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Daddy By Surprise
Pat Warren
LITTLE–AND BIG!–DARLIN'(S)Devin Gray had long ago made two resolutions about what was NOT in his future–marriage and fatherhood. And then along came beautiful, lovable and sexy neighbor Molly Shipman to test his resolve on the former. As to the latter, well, when adorable six-year-old Emily showed up on his doorstep, with only a ratty old teddy bear… and a note, claiming HE was her father, well… what was a bachelor to do?Learn to braid hair, for starters. And have tea parties. And chase away bad dreams. And maybe, just maybe… learn how to make both Molly and Emily his own?
“Will you read me a story, Daddy?” Emily asked.
Daddy. It was the first time she’d called him that, and the feeling that flooded Devin stunned him. Like a fist to the solar plexus. He’d used the word himself in his thoughts, but somehow, hearing it from her made it more real, more special.
Devin opened his arms and Emily climbed up onto his lap, settling her head just under his chin. She smelled like her peach-scented bubble bath, all warm and fragrant. He gazed into green eyes as familiar as his own. The shadows of fatigue were gone from her cheeks, the sadness had disappeared from her eyes and she no longer woke during the night, crying for her mother. She also had the sweetest smile, he decided, as he opened the book.
Of course she would. She was his daughter.
Dear Reader,
It’s going to be a wonderful year! After all, we’re celebrating Silhouette’s 20th anniversary of bringing you compelling, emotional, contemporary romances month after month.
January’s fabulous lineup starts with beloved author Diana Palmer, who returns to Special Edition with Matt Caldwell: Texas Tycoon. In the latest installment of her wildly popular LONG, TALL TEXANS series, temperatures rise and the stakes are high when a rugged tycoon meets his match in an innocent beauty—who is also his feisty employee.
Bestselling author Susan Mallery continues the next round of the series PRESCRIPTION: MARRIAGE with Their Little Princess. In this heart-tugging story, baby doctor Kelly Hall gives a suddenly single dad lessons in parenting—and learns all about romance!
Reader favorite Pamela Toth launches Special Edition’s newest series, SO MANY BABIES—in which babies and romance abound in the Buttonwood Baby Clinic. In The Baby Legacy, a sperm-bank mix-up brings two unlikely parents together temporarily—or perhaps forever.…
In Peggy Webb’s passionate story, Summer Hawk, two Native Americans put aside their differences when they unite to battle a medical crisis and find that love cures all. Rounding off the month is veteran author Pat Warren’s poignant, must-read secret baby story, Daddy by Surprise, and Jean Brashear’s Lonesome No More, in which a reclusive hero finds healing for his heart when he offers a single mom and her young son a haven from harm.
I hope you enjoy these six unforgettable romances and help us celebrate Silhouette’s 20th anniversary all year long!
Best,
Karen Taylor Richman
Senior Editor
Daddy by Surprise
Pat Warren
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This book is dedicated to Perry and Ginny Huellmantel,
old friends and traveling companions, with affection
Books by Pat Warren
Silhouette Special Edition
With This Ring #375
Final Verdict #410
Look Homeward, Love #442
Summer Shadows #458
The Evolution of Adam #480
Build Me a Dream #514
The Long Road Home #548
The Lyon and the Lamb #582
My First Love, My Last #610
Winter Wishes #632
Till I Loved You #659
An Uncommon Love #678
Under Sunny Skies #731
That Hathaway Woman #758
Simply Unforgettable #797
This I Ask of You #815
On Her Own #841
A Bride for Hunter #893
Nobody’s Child #974
A Home for Hannah #1048
Keeping Kate #1060
Daddy’s Home #1157
Stranded on the Ranch #1199
Daddy by Surprise #1301
Silhouette Romance
Season of the Heart #553
Silhouette Intimate Moments
Perfect Strangers #288
Only the Lonely #605
Michael’s House #737
Stand-In Father #855
Silhouette Books
Montana Mavericks
Outlaw Lovers #6
PAT WARREN,
mother of four, lives in Arizona with her travel agent husband and a lazy white cat. She’s a former newspaper columnist whose lifetime dream was to become a novelist. A strong romantic streak, a sense of humor and a keen interest in developing relationships led her to try romance novels, with which she feels very much at home.
Contents
Chapter One (#u45c5d03c-beb4-5f9b-9e7c-d1f836d4fa6f)
Chapter Two (#u575e7f30-6ed8-5c66-b07f-d76177ba9a5a)
Chapter Three (#u971a9958-6c1b-5e0d-b3bd-f4a76532a762)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
If there was one thing Molly Shipman hated it was arriving anywhere late. The kitchen clock indicated that she had exactly seven minutes to get to her appointment with Della Bailey, her friend, Trisha’s, mother and the owner of a roomy duplex on a quiet residential street in south Scottsdale. She’d gotten up at six just so she wouldn’t have to rush. Of course, if she hadn’t dripped orange juice on her blouse, necessitating a change, or broken a nail opening the coffee can, she’d have had time to spare. As it was, she had to fly.
Stuffing the last bite of toast in her mouth, she grabbed her large canvas bag before racing down the outside stairs of her apartment building. She unlocked the door of her eight-year-old Honda and got in, wondering why she ever bothered to lock it. Nobody but the truly desperate would steal old battered Bessie.
Sending up a silent prayer, Molly turned the key in the ignition and breathed a sigh of relief when the tired old engine wheezed into life. Just two more paychecks and she’d have enough saved to take old Bess in for a much-needed tune-up.
Whipping out of the parking lot, she turned onto Thomas and headed east. If only this rental would turn out to be perfect, or nearly perfect, Molly mused. According to Trisha, who waitressed alongside Molly at the Pan Handle Café, the recently vacated house with an upper and a lower apartment had just had a face-lift consisting of fresh paint and new carpeting. Mrs. Bailey, who lived next door and used the income from several such homes to supplement her Social Security, always kept up her properties.
The mid-April sun was already quite warm as Molly made a right turn, her mind racing. Since learning that her apartment building was converting to condos, she’d given notice and been searching for a place not too far from her job because old Bess couldn’t be counted on for long daily trips. Good rentals at reasonable rates were hard to find and the lower unit sounded ideal. She was sick of the three flights of stairs she’d had to climb several times a day for the past three years. Molly hoped no one else had spotted the For Rent sign and beaten her to the punch. Reminders of the early bird getting the worm buzzed through her anxious thoughts.
A quick glance at her watch told Molly she was only a few minutes late as she swung onto Cactus Lane. As she completed the turn, a noisy Harley came zooming around the bend behind her. The driver wasn’t wearing a helmet, she noticed in the rearview mirror, his dark hair shifting in a soft morning breeze.
Slowing, she turned into the drive of number 9430 where, thankfully, the sign was still in the lawn. The two-story stucco house with its southwestern style, red-tiled roof was set back from the street leaving room for a small lawn and several old cottonwood trees that provided much-needed shade. Mrs. Bailey was waiting on the porch and raised her hand in a wave. Molly turned off the engine and got out. But before she could take a step, the Harley pulled in alongside the Honda, blocking her path.
Unhurriedly, the rider dismounted and engaged his kickstand. Arizona sunshine reflected in his mirrored sunglasses before he took them off, tucking one stem inside the opening of his white knit shirt. Molly found herself staring into the greenest eyes she’d ever seen.
He didn’t look like her idea of a biker, she thought, dressed conservatively as he was in clean jeans and very white Nikes. His square chin—sporting a deep dimple—looked as if it had been carved from granite, hinting at a stubborn streak. His gaze was every bit as measuring as hers. An unexpected sensual pull lasted mere seconds yet took her completely by surprise. Why was this man following her? Molly wondered, her pulse slightly erratic.
“Do I know you?” she asked, though she doubted very much she’d have forgotten this man.
His smile softened his hard image, his teeth gleaming white against his tan face. “I haven’t had the pleasure,” he answered, holding out his hand. “Devin Gray.”
From the corner of her eye, Molly noticed Mrs. Bailey shuffling her feet impatiently. But she could hardly ignore the man’s offer to shake hands. “Molly Shipman,” she said, noticing that her fingers barely touched his skin before her hand was engulfed by his. Oddly fascinated, she stared at the contrasts, pale to tan, small to large, soft to hard.
He was the first to break away as he nodded toward the house. “I’m here about the rental. You, too?”
Molly swallowed around a dry throat and took a step back. “Yes.” Did she want to share a house with a ruggedly handsome biker? she wondered. However, she might have no choice in the matter, she realized as he fell in step beside her on the walk to the porch.
“Hello, dear,” Mrs. Bailey greeted Molly. “It’s good to see you,” she told the older woman, then stood aside as the newcomer introduced himself.
Della Bailey patted her short hair, which was dyed a becoming ash blond, and smiled at both young people. “I hate to rush you two, but I’m being picked up shortly by a friend. We’re going to the Indian reservation casino to play bingo.”
Molly knew Mrs. Bailey since she often came into the café to visit her daughter. She also knew that the widow had two passions: bingo and kids. A retired schoolteacher, she baby-sat several neighborhood children after school.
“We wouldn’t want to hold you up,” Devin said, opening the screen door for the short little woman to lead the way into the lower apartment. He watched Molly Shipman walk past, her eyes avoiding his. She seemed a little nervous and he wondered why.
“As you can see, this unit’s unfurnished,” Della began, showing them through a good-sized living room, one large bedroom and an old-fashioned kitchen with wooden cupboards. The smell of fresh paint was evident.
Not bad, Molly thought, checking out the living room with its tiny corner fireplace. She’d have to get rid of the heavy drapes, get something light and airy. She strolled on, admiring the cozy window seat in the bedroom, the bright blue carpeting, the sunny kitchen where her plants would thrive. Yes, it would do nicely. Best of all, no stairs to climb. As soon as Trisha had told her about the place, she’d hoped she’d like the lower. “I have my own furniture,” she said, opening the refrigerator, pleased at how spotless it was. When she looked up, she noticed that Devin Gray was studying her far more than the apartment, which brought a frown to her face. Was this man going to be a problem?
Devin could see by her expressive face that Molly Shipman was already moving in mentally. “Is the upper furnished?” he asked as Mrs. Bailey checked her watch. He had a few things, but he’d moved too often to drag along a houseful of furniture.
“Yes, and it has its own entrance and stairs in the back.” She led the way onto the back porch and pointed to a door at the far end. “That’s the laundry room. You’d have to share.” She started up the stairs. “The upper’s rooms are a bit smaller, but there’re two bedrooms. I believe you said you needed the extra room.” Devin followed her.
She’d already decided she wanted the lower, but it wouldn’t hurt to look at both, Molly thought as she trailed after them. Her gaze naturally fell on Devin Gray’s broad muscular back, the way the faded denim fit over impressive buns and long, long legs. Quite a package, her feminine side couldn’t help registering. But not for you, her practical brain reminded her.
Along with the usual appliances, the kitchen contained a small oak table with two chairs and checkered linoleum that looked newly installed. An archway opened into a square living room with a couch and pole lamp along one wall. A short hallway led to two small bedrooms and a bath. A double bed, dresser and night-stand were in the largest room, but the other was empty except for a studio bed.
“I suppose I should say this unit’s semifurnished,” Della said as Devin examined the second bedroom. “You mentioned you work from home. Is this large enough for what you had in mind?” she asked, peering at him through her new bifocals that she still evidently hadn’t gotten used to.
“It’s fine.” Devin turned from the window. “Is that pool in the lot next door yours?” She’d told him on the phone that she lived one house over. “It’s not exactly the ocean I’m used to in California, but it sure looks inviting.”
