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“No, I don’t want you to come in, and no, I don’t want to be grist for the rumor mill in this building.”
“It’s one or the other,” he said, pushing gently on the door.
“All right.” She let him into the entry way, then shut the door after him. “How did you find me?”
“Palmdale’s not all that big. I found that accounting firm you’d told me you worked for in the phone book. Wasn’t too hard to charm your address out of the receptionist.”
Kim Delaney had the loosest lips in the world—a failing Casey planned to take up with her friend at the first opportunity.
“So you found me. Why did you bother? For that matter, why did you keep a date we made a year ago?”
His gaze turned intense as he looked from the top of her head, over her buttercup yellow tank top, khaki shorts, bare legs and down to her pink painted toenails. The heat of the megawatt smile he turned on her never reached his eyes.
“I had to see for myself if you were as cute as I remembered. If that wheat-colored hair of yours was as spiky and flyaway. If your eyes were still as green as the hills after a rainstorm.”
Her knees went as weak as soft-serve ice cream. Just like the first time she’d seen him. She leaned back in the entryway, trying to make the movement appear relaxed. The leaning had more to do with selfpreservation, since she needed to sit down before she collapsed. As it was, she could barely manage to find the wall and plant her rear end firmly against it.
She’d been almost glad last night when he’d thought she was a deceitful witch. It had given her a good reason to leave and not look back. If he kept up this sweet talk, she would have no defenses left.
She didn’t have enough self-control to keep from asking breathlessly, “Am I?” She blinked. “Spiky, flyaway and green, I mean?”
“Nope.” A muscle in his cheek jerked as his jaws clamped tightly together.
“Oh.” She should have been relieved. Instead, disappointment settled over her.
“As for why I bothered coming today, I want to see the baby. Boy or girl?”
“What?”
“Last night you didn’t say whether it was a boy or a girl.”
“I had a boy.”
A small smile lifted the corners of his nicely shaped mouth. That information seemed to please him. Absurdly, she was glad he was glad.
“Can I see him?” He took his hat off and jammed his fingers through his hair.
“He’s asleep.” For reasons she didn’t understand, her protective instincts started blinking like a pediatrician’s switchboard on Monday morning.
“I won’t disturb him.”
“He’s a light sleeper,” she said quickly.
She needed time to think through the ramifications of suddenly having her baby’s father in the picture. If she was lucky, he would get good and mad at the abrasive attitude she assumed just for him, tell her off, then turn around and walk out before she could say, “Been nice knowing you, Cowboy.” Instead, he stood his ground, looking at her as if she’d cut the stirrups off his favorite saddle.
His mouth thinned, making his jaw look more square. “Look, Casey, I’ve been up all night. I’m not in the mood to play games. I just want to see my son.
“Why do you suddenly believe he’s yours?” She stared up at him. Lord, he was tall. Six foot two if he was an inch. At her own five foot two, that was a lot of distance between mouths. A year ago they’d succeeded in overcoming that problem. The memory set off a serious fluttering in her stomach, a sensation she tried her best to ignore.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Just a feeling.”
He glared down at her. Funny, she thought, those eyes carried as big a wallop angry as they did when passion filled. He rubbed a hand across his jaw, setting off a rasping that told her he hadn’t shaved any more than he had slept.
“I don’t want his routine upset.” It was worth a last-ditch effort to see if she could make him angry enough to leave her in peace.
She hoped for one final mad-as-hell scowl before he turned on his boot heel and hit the trail. But he stood in her doorway looking as tall as a mountain and just as immovable. Apparently she wasn’t going to be lucky. He was ticked off, all right. But he wasn’t leaving. She was stalling, and he knew it
Actually, what harm could it do for him to see the baby? It would be quick, she told herself. He’d do his duty, feel noble, then he could go. After all, one reason they had hit it off so well was because they had both agreed relationships were a complication. Neither wanted any strings attached. She hadn’t changed her mind about that, except where her son was concerned. Since Tucker was a transient rodeo cowboy, the odds were in her favor that he hadn’t changed his mind, either, and would be especially reluctant to want a child hampering his life-style.
She stood up straight and held a hand out, finally indicating that he should come in. “I apologize. I’m being rude. Please…”
“Thanks.” He frowned, then walked in, his boots thudding on the oak floor in her entry way.
Without hesitation she could say that there had never been a pair of boots in this condo. If all went as she hoped, there never would be again. Blue eyes, dimples, black hair, cowboy hat and boots. There was more masculinity under her roof than she was prepared to handle.
She led him up the two steps into her living room. “Have a seat,” she said, indicating the mauve-andblue floral chintz sofa.
“Thanks.”
He laid his hat on the rosewood coffee table. Then he sat down, draping both arms across the back of the couch as he rested one booted foot on the opposite knee. She bit back a smile as she thought how out of place he looked in her feminine surroundings. His loose-limbed, relaxed posture said he felt right at home. As the rolled-up sleeves on his white cotton shirt pulled up his forearms, she was amazed at the muscles there.
“He should be waking up anytime for a feeding. Would you mind waiting until then to see him?”
His black eyebrows pulled together thoughtfully as he nodded his head. “Give us a chance to talk, without one of us running out.”
“One of us had a pretty good reason,” she said.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner that you were pregnant?”
She cursed the heat that burned her cheeks. For God’s sake, she was a twenty-eight-year-old woman. Why couldn’t she do this without blushing like a teenager?
She sat in the powder blue velvet wingback chair across the table from him. Nervously twisting her fingers, she gathered her thoughts. “You move around a lot.”
“Yeah. I know. You said something about that last night.”
She shrugged. “I’ll admit, I didn’t try very hard.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because when it comes right down to it, the whole thing was my fault. I know that. I didn’t want you to feel that you had to do anything. No one should take responsibility for me. I made my bed—” she glanced up quickly “—metaphorically speaking. And I had to lie in it.”
“It’s an awfully big bed to lie in by yourself. What’s his name?”
She blinked. “Who?”
“My son.”
She frowned. He was suddenly taking this more seriously than she had expected. “I named him Jason Smith Wright.”
“My father’s name was Jason.”
“I know. He weighed eight pounds, four ounces. He was twenty-one inches long.” She looked into Tucker’s blue eyes, then lower to the dimples that were more like slashes on either side of his mouth as he frowned. “He’s the spitting image of you.”
He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I’d figure you to question again whether or not I’m telling you the truth.”
“My gut tells me you didn’t plan to tell me anything at all if I hadn’t showed up on your doorstep today. Why would you lie?”
“I wouldn’t.”
He frowned. “That night—a year ago, we discussed this. Well, not this, but pregnancy. Right after I told you there was nothing to worry about from me. You said it was a safe time for you.”
“I truly believed that. Apparently I practiced the idiot’s method of rhythm contraception. I counted wrong. My cycle threw me a curve. My body has a wacky sense of humor. I zigged when I should have zagged. I don’t know what happened.” She threw her hands in the air. “It’s all my fault. Not yours.”
He shook his head. “It takes two.”
An undeniable fact. So she didn’t bother contradicting him. He laced his hands together and rested his elbows on well-muscled thighs encased in jeans. Wranglers, she remembered.
That’s part of what had set the course of events in motion. She had admired his boots, then wondered how he got those jeans over his boots. Then she’d put that wondering into words. The next thing she knew, he had taken her to his room to show her exactly how easy it was to pull those Wranglers over his boots. They had talked and laughed long into the night. Then he had turned those eyes and dimples loose on her, and she’d been a goner. It wasn’t his fault. He shouldn’t be stuck with the consequences. After all, Jason didn’t need anyone but her. And she would never let him down.
“You don’t owe me anything, Tucker. I’m not asking you to be involved in any way.”
He stood up. “Now hold on. Not so darn fast. You don’t spring this on a man, then say adios.”
“I’m the first to admit that I find security in rules, but I don’t think there are any for a situation like this. I don’t know what to do.”
“You might start by giving me time to take all this in.”
Nervously she looked at her watch again, wishing the baby would wake up. “Okay. You’re right.”
“It’s not every day a man finds out he’s a father.”
“And thank goodness for that. The world is overpopulated as it is.” She stood up and stuck her hands in the pockets of her shorts. “I’m sorry, Tucker. This has to be a shock, and I guess I’m not handling it very well. Let me make myself clear. I’m not asking you for anything. I don’t expect anything from you. I’m trying to make this as easy for you as I can.”
Brave words for a woman in her situation.
“There’s no way to make it easy.”
“Sure there is. Just walk away,” she said, holding her hand toward the door.
“Is that what you want me to do?” he asked, irritated.
“Isn’t it what you want?”
“No. But I’m getting the feeling it’s what you want. You didn’t want me here in the first place. Now you’re trying awful damn hard to get rid of me. Why, Casey?”
She looked away for a moment. “My feelings could best be described as mixed. How about this— if you want to go, it’s okay with me. If you want to stay and see the baby, it’s okay with me.”
“I want to see him.”
Casey smiled. “Okay. I think I heard some noises from the nursery. Follow me.”
The thick beige carpet silenced their footsteps as they climbed the stairs to the nursery. Opening the first door on her right, Casey led him over to the white crib on the wall opposite the door. When she peeked in, Jason was on his back, big blue eyes staring up at her.
“Hi, big boy,” she crooned.
A big toothless grin greeted her as he kicked his legs and waved his arms. She felt Tucker behind her, looking over her right shoulder. His nearness sent shivers through her.
Tucker wrapped his hand around the rail and looked down at the baby. “I feel stupid asking this, but how old is he?”
“Three months. He just started rolling from his tummy to his back. Of course I think that’s because he’s the smartest, most well-developed child ever born. But every baby book I’ve read says he’s within normal range.”
“Is it all right with you if I pick him up?”
“Sure.”
He reached in, then stopped and looked at her. “I don’t know how.”
“It’s easy as falling off a horse,” she assured him.
“That’s not all that easy.”
She laughed. “Put your palm up under his back and neck to support him. Like this.” She took his wrist, shivering at the harnessed strength she felt. Ignoring her reaction, she placed his hand beneath the baby. “Put your other hand under his bottom and lift.”
He did as she directed and cradled the baby’s head in the crook of his elbow, while the rest of Jason’s chubby body trailed down his arm.
She slanted Tucker an approving look. “See? You can do it with one arm tied.behind your back.”
“I think I’d rather wrestle a steer.” When his uneasy expression faded slightly, he glanced at her. “He’s a sturdy little fella.”
“He’s not fat,” she said defensively.
Tucker looked at her and raised one brow. “Didn’t say he was.”
“Good. Because he’s not.”
So she was a little sensitive. The pediatrician had made her aware of fat cells and a person’s predisposition to putting on weight. Although, seeing the lean, rugged strength and height of Jason’s father, whom he resembled more than a little, she wasn’t nearly so worried. Although it occurred to her, and not for the first time, that she hardly knew anything about her son’s father.
The baby started to fuss and Tucker froze. “What do I do?”
“Unless you have breast milk, not a thing. It’s time for his feeding.”
“Do you want me to leave the room so you can have some privacy?” he asked.
She took the baby from his arms, wondering why he’d qualified that, as in “leave the room,” not the premises and her life. Jason started fussing louder, and she didn’t give it any more thought.
“You can stay if you want. I’ve gotten used to doing this discreetly.” She looked up at him as she sat in the rocker by the window. “Unless you’re embarrassed.”