Page 83 of Love Bomb

She hurried inside and shut it firmly behind her.

Feeling like she’d just gone through a portal into another dimension, Rona followed Bain. He was standing at the kitchen counter, hovering over a baby’s bottle which was suspended in hot water.

Rona made several attempts at speech before she managed to say, “that’s a baby.”

“Thanks for clearing that up,” Bain muttered as he took the bottle out of the water. He shook it, then tipped a few drops onto the inside of his wrist. “This is not a scientific method for testing temperature,” he muttered to himself, sounding disgusted.

Okay, she had to ask. “Is that your baby?”

“No,” Bain snapped.

He put the milk on the table, unstrapped the carrier from his chest, and removed the baby. He then sat down with it in his arms and proceeded to feed it. As though he’d done the same thing a million times already.

Rona stared at him some more. “Who does the baby belong to?” she finally said.

“Now, that’s the question of the hour,” Bain replied.

The doorbell rang.

“That’ll be Officer Donaldson,” he said. “Do you mind?”

“No.” Bewildered, Rona went to answer the door.

Sure enough, the town’s entire police force was standing on the front step.

“Hey Rona,” Matt said. “Nice to see you. Did you break in or did Bain let you in?”

Rona waved him into the house. “I see your sense of humor hasn’t improved,” she said with a smile.

“Being amused by the town is one of the few perks of the job,” Matt said. “Where is he?”

“Kitchen.” Rona gestured down the hall to the back of the house.

Rona supposed she should have left Bain’s truck keys behind before politely exiting a situation that was clearly none of her business. But seeing as it was genetically impossible for her not to poke her nose into Bain’s life, she followed the cop. And was yet again stunned into silence by the sight of Bain casually feeding the baby.

“What’s the news?” Bain asked Matt.

The cop helped himself a mug of coffee from the full pot on the counter before pulling out a chair at the table.

“Not good,” he said, taking out his notebook. “The mother’s name is Sandra Clark.”

Rona gasped. “This is your paternity suit baby?”

Bain frowned at her. “He isn’t my baby at all. As I keep telling everybody, I never slept with his mother.”

“Moving on,” Matt said firmly. “Up until six weeks ago, Sandra lived in Fort William.”

“I met her at a bar there almost two years ago,” Bain said. “I remembered because she was with a couple of friends and I spent an hour hanging out with the three of them.” He turned to Rona. “Before going home alone.”

“Aye.” Matt’s lips twitched as he fought the urge to smile. “I know. I spoke to her friends and asked them about you. They said the only reason they remember you was because it was karaoke night, and you murdered a rendition of⁠—”

“I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For, by U2,” Rona finished, grinning as memories came flooding back. “It’s his favorite song and he’s never been able to sing it.”

Matt nodded. “One of the women videoed the whole thing.” He grinned. “You do a good impersonation of Bono, even if the vocals are sadly lacking.”

“It’s all in the swagger,” Bain said drolly. “What’s the story with this Sandra Clark?”

Matt sipped at his coffee before answering. “You were right about her, she’s in a bad way. I spoke to her GP up in Fort William, and she’s been treated for postnatal depression since the baby was born. Seemed to have been improving too, until life bit her on the backside at the end of November, when the baby’s father died in an accident.”