WHOSE CHILD?

by Susan Gable

  The remnants of her dreamer breathed a small sigh of hope.

  The realist in her urged her to do it now, before he changed his mind, and have at least one night in his bed and his arms.

  He grinned that irresistible grin. "Good. Lift up your arms."

  Light streamed in behind him. She hesitated. "Is naked really necessary? Can't we just—"

  This time he quieted her with another hard kiss. His mouth left her lips, trailing down her chin. Tipping her head, she offered and he took, teeth nipping gently at her collarbone as he pushed the neck of her nightshirt aside.

  Before she'd realized it, he had the fabric bunched just below her breasts. His thumb skimmed the curve and she sucked in her breath, a shiver of desire crawling up her spine. Watching her carefully, he raised the shirt higher. She lifted her arms, letting him peel the garment from her.

  He tossed her clothing to the floor and leaned back. His face cloaked in shadows, he simply looked at her. She squirmed beneath his scrutiny.

  "Mmm," he hummed. "Beautiful." David lowered his head and used his tongue to tease her nipples to attention. When he closed his mouth on her, she sighed, threading her fingers through his hair. She'd had no lovers since Andrew, and the fact that this was David, object of all her adolescent and not-so-adolescent sexual fantasies, made the sensations even more intense.

  Using his nimble fingers and lips, he explored her body, causing the most delicious tension to wind tighter and tighter within her.

  He paused over her belly, just below her navel, his fingertip tracing a slight indentation in her skin.

  "It's a stretch mark," she said, her face warming.

  His eyes widened as he caressed the spot again. "From Sarah?"

  She nodded, her own hand snaking down her belly to cover it.

  He shoved her fingers aside, then placed his mouth on the mark, kissing it. He raised his head to lock eyes with her. "I love it."

  "You do?"

  "Yes. It's a reminder of everything you did to make my dreams come true. Lexie Jacobs, have I told you lately how amazing you are?"

  The warmth pumping through her sweetened, shifted from lust to love with his proclamation. She shook her head.

  "You are." He kissed his way back up her body. The ridge of his arousal pressed into the apex of her thighs when he settled himself against her. Only two thin pieces of cotton, his briefs and her panties, separated them. She needed him with an intensity that almost scared her. She shifted beneath him, seeking more.

  "You're beautiful, caring…"

  God, she loved this man. Was it possible that he could…?

  No, no, the cynic inside her shouted at the dreamer, scaring it back into hiding. Don't even think like that. You know how the story ends in real life. Shut up and take what he's offering for now.

  "Make love to me, David. Now." She forced her hips up, grinding against him.

  He moaned, shutting his eyes. "Lex."

  She wiggled again. "We have too many clothes on. I thought you said naked." Hooking her thumbs in the elastic waistband of her underwear, she pushed them down.

  With a groan, David rolled off her. "I—I don't have anything with me, Lexie." He cursed under his breath.

  "Anything?" Her mind scrambled to make sense of what he meant.

  "Protection? A condom?" The bedsprings creaked as he shifted farther away, his breathing ragged.

  "Oh." The impact of his words sunk in. "Oh." She wanted to curse, too, but then she started to giggle.

  "What's so funny? I'm going to die here, and you're laughing?"

  She nodded. "I can take care of this. Don't go away." She jumped from the bed, the wooden flooring cold on her bare feet. Dashing into his bathroom, she grabbed the heavy terry-cloth bathrobe from the hook on the back of the door. She tied the sash around her waist as she left. "I mean it, don't move. I'll be right back."

  He laced his fingers behind his head, giving her a lazy, seductive grin, complete with dimples. "I'll be timing you."

  She darted into the hallway, avoiding the squeaky board near the top of the stairs. Don't think, don't think. In her room, she raised on tiptoe, pulling a box from the top shelf in her closet. Grabbing two packets without looking, she crammed them into the robe's pocket, replaced the box and headed back to his room before she could give herself a chance to change her mind.

  He hadn't moved at all, just grinned again as she scurried into the room. She tossed the square packages onto the bed by his side. "There."

  "Why, Lexie Jacobs, you have grown up. What would your mother think about her girl keeping condoms on hand, just in case?"

  Lexie's face scorched. "That she's smart? Look, those were a gag gift from a friend. I really don't go around jumping into bed with guys…"

  "I know you don't." He reached over, tucked the condoms under his pillow, then grabbed her by the knot in the belt of her robe. "I'm just teasing you. And I'm glad. Now get back in here."

  She tumbled into his embrace as his mouth found hers. He parted the robe, staring down at her. With the end of the belt, he caressed her skin, starting at the hollow of her throat. Down through the valley between her breasts. Then he circled each one, making her push her shoulders into the mattress, a silent plea for more.

  The terry cloth brushed lightly over each nipple, causing them to tighten.

  Lexie moaned as David cupped one breast, drawing the other into his mouth. The aching need within her spiraled higher with each stroke of his nimble fingers, each hot caress from his tongue. "David, please!"

  "That's exactly what I'm going to do, Lex. Please you."

  "So get on with it air—" She gasped when he grazed his finger across the juncture of her thighs.

  "Patience."

  Patience was the last thing on her mind. But he wouldn't be rushed. The slow smolder became a raging wildfire beneath the ministrations of his talented hands and mouth. The ability to think rationally fled by the time he finally reached beneath the pillow and retrieved the condom.

  "Look at me, Lex," he ordered, poised just over her.

  She glanced at him, hips straining to join them.

  He smiled and slowly sank into her.

  "Oh, David. Yes."

  He teased her, varying his rhythm, sometimes fast, then slowing to a maddening pace. Sometimes he plunged deep, sometimes he didn't, at one point withdrawing fully while she cried out, writhing in frustration until he rejoined them. She gripped his shoulders, locked her ankles in the small of his back.

  "Greedy," he murmured, gently biting her earlobe. "I like that in a woman."

  "Stop teasing," she demanded, then gasped as he slid even deeper.

  "Whatever you say, princess." This time he set up a steadily increasing pace. Sweat slicked their bodies.

  Lexie arched up to meet him, panting, begging.

  "Just let go, Lex." He reached between her thighs, stimulating her to the point of insanity.

  Her orgasm wracked her body, made her shake and tremble in a way she'd never thought possible. And then he was calling her name, finding his own release.

  Their heavy breathing gradually slowed. David rolled them onto their sides, reaching out to caress her face. "Still think it was a dream?"

  The heat of a blush crept across her cheeks as she nodded. "An amazing dream. Fantastic."

  He grinned. "Don't go anywhere, okay? I'll be right back." He slipped from the bed, heading toward the bathroom.

  Lexie pulled her nightshirt on, then searched for her misplaced panties.

  She could pretend it had all been a dream, but only if she left now, before he could ruin it with reality.

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  « ^ »

  Somewhere behind the heavy cloud cover, the sun had been up for several hours. John sat at the kitchen table holding a mug of coffee he'd had to make himself.

  Not like Missy to sleep in this late. Even without bright sunshine to wake her.

  He had a pretty good idea what Doc Riley
had brought in his brown envelope that had shaken up the gal.

  He'd never seen her take to her bed like this, not even when she had the flu or something. Poor thing. Another bite of his toast did nothing to settle his own unhappy stomach.

  A clumping noise clattered down the back stairs, every other step a heavier thud. The door opened and Sarah entered the kitchen, holding one black boot, the other on her foot. She wore a long-sleeved, green plaid sweater and a pair of purple shorts.

  Tarnation. Even he knew that wasn't a good combination.

  "'Morning, Pappy." She held the boot out in his direction. "I can't work this. I dressed myself," she said, clearly proud of herself.

  "I can see that. How come?"

  "Momma's still asleep," the child whispered, as though her mother could hear her all the way from upstairs. "She didn't feel good last night, so I let her sleep."

  "You're a good kid, sprout."

  "Can we make her breakfast on a tray? Like she does when my tummy is sick?"

  "Well, maybe we could make her some toast on a plate, okay? My ole bones ache after running up those stairs the other night. I don't think I could carry a tray up there."

  "I can carry toast." Her curls bobbed as she shook her head. "Let's do that."

  "Let's get that other boot on first, okay?"

  "Okay." She picked the shoe back up and then plopped on the floor in front of him, sticking her foot in his lap. "Don't I look nice, Pappy?"

  "Sure are colorful today. Which is good since there's no sunshine." He smiled.

  "I wanted to surprise Momma."

  "Oh, I'm sure she's gonna be surprised." He chuckled. Somehow the gal would gently suggest a different combination and the young'un wouldn't feel at all like she'd gotten it wrong. Lexie was one of the best mothers he'd ever seen in action, 'cept his own Doris.

  And somehow, he had to make sure she kept her child.

  Losing a child, even if there wasn't a blood bond, was the worst feeling possible. He'd thought losing Doris had been the worst, but it had paled in comparison to losing their adopted son, daughter-in-law and grandson to a fire.

  Thank God his Doris had been spared that pain.

  He wasn't about to let Lexie feel it. Not when she'd been the one to save him from just wasting away the rest of his life.

  "There ya go, squirt. Now let's get some toast cooking for your mom, and something for you."

  "'kay."

  He helped the child pull a chair to the counter and put two slices of Missy's homemade bread into the toaster oven. Sarah pressed the lever down, then propped her elbows on the counter, chin on her palms, to watch it cook. "Pappy?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Momma said that man is my daddy. Dr. Riley made tests, and they said so."

  "Yeah?" He steadied the chair as she wiggled on it.

  "Does that mean I gotta call him Daddy now?"

  "Do you want to call him Daddy?"

  She shook her head.

  "Well, then call him what you want to for now."

  The little girl giggled.

  "What?"

  "I think Momma would get mad."

  He fought back a smile. "Why?"

  Sarah looked around the kitchen, then stood up on the chair and crooked her finger at him. "I call him Mr. Stuffy Pants."

  John coughed to hide his laughter. Pasting a stern expression on his face, he said, "I'm sure your momma wouldn't like that, sprout. Maybe you could just call him David for now. And he's trying. Gotta give him credit for that." And he had to. Even though he didn't want to. The man was trying to get to know his daughter. And that was fine. As long as he left his daughter—and her momma—right here in Mill Creek.

  "Connor's daddy was here, then he left. My daddy was gone, and now he's here."

  He waited awhile for her to say something more. "And? Does that mean something?"

  "Is it only mommas who stay with kids all the time, Pappy?"

  John rubbed a hand across his stomach. If David Mitchell had his way, the child wouldn't have a momma anymore. "Not always, sprout."

  The lever on the toaster popped up and the bell dinged. "Lookie there, it's done." Thank God. 'Cause this wasn't a conversation he should be having with the little one. "No, now git your fingers away from there. You know it's hot."

  He helped Sarah butter the toast. She jumped down off the chair and carefully took the paper plate from him. "Okay, you take that up to your momma."

  She stared at the food, making very exact steps. Her boots clomped on every stair this time, not just half.

  He went back to the table, chugged down the now-cold dregs of his coffee. He glanced out the window as he placed the mug in the sink.

  A silver minivan crawled down the driveway and pulled in to a parking space alongside David's rented SUV. A middle-aged couple emerged from the front seats and a tall young fellow unfolded himself from the back, stretching his arms over his head.

  The men moved to the back of the van and hauled out several suitcases.

  As far as John knew, they weren't expecting any guests.

  Tarnation. Maybe they were from that magazine Missy kept harping about. The "mystery guests" she'd been expecting.

  He hollered up the back stairs. "Missy! Looks like new guests." Getting no response, he shuffled down the hallway, heading for the foyer.

  He made it to the front door at the same time they did. Opening it, he gestured inside. "'Morning, folks. Welcome to the Mill Creek Bed-and-Breakfast. I'm John Nonnemacher, your host."

  The woman, with short dark hair and lively brown eyes, smiled at him. "Oh, you're Pappy! Lexie's mentioned so much about you on the phone." She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I can't thank you enough for taking care of my baby and grandbaby."

  John's face got hot, and he tried to gracefully untangle himself from the woman's embrace.

  "Honey, you're choking the man. That's not a nice way to thank him," the older man said.

  "Oh, sorry, right." She released him and stepped back.

  "You think you all could move in just a bit farther, so I can get in with all this luggage?" the younger man said.

  "Sorry, Marc," the woman said. "I'm just so excited, I'm not thinking straight. Where's my baby?" She glanced around the foyer.

  "Maybe we should introduce ourselves properly," the older man said, extending his hand, which John accepted. "I'm Timothy Jacobs, that's my son, Marc, and—"

  "Pappy!" came Sarah's shout from the kitchen. "Where are you?"

  "In the foyer, sprout."

  The black boots clattered down the hallway. "Pappy! Momma said thanks for the toast, she feels better. She's in the shower now…" The young'un skidded to a stop, wrapped her arms around his leg and pressed her face into his blue jeans when she realized there were strangers in the house.

  The woman's eyes widened and she stared at the small form attached to him like a burr on a blanket. "And I'm Sarah Jacobs," she completed the introductions.

  The little one risked a quick peek at the lady, then hid again. But she tugged on his pants. He bent over. "Pappy," she whispered. "I'm Sarah Jacobs."

  "Yep, you are, sprout. Tell you what, why don't you head on back upstairs and tell your momma that there's another Sarah here to see her."

  Sarah turned quickly and scampered up the stairs.

  "Oh, I wanted to surprise Lexie," Mrs. Jacobs said, heading to follow the little girl.

  "Now, the young'un said her momma was in the shower, so you probably want to give her a chance to get dressed, right? Besides, I'm sure she's gonna be surprised enough."

  "I've waited a long time to see my daughter, Mr. Nonnemacher. I really don't want to wait, not even five more minutes. I've seen her in a towel before." The woman grasped the wooden banister and slowly started up.

  "Turn right at the top of the stairs. First bedroom on the right," he said.

  Missy's dad chuckled. "Sorry. That woman has had me in a complete frazzle to get her out here. We'd have been here soo
ner but our son, Kenny, and his wife just had their first baby."

  "Don't apologize. Now I know where Lexie gets her determination from." John looked at the luggage, then gestured toward the stairs. "Might as well get yourselves settled, too. You got yourself the pick of the rooms up there, 'cause we ain't got any other guests at the moment. Well, 'cept for the young'un's father, and he's not exactly a guest, I suppose."

  Marc's mouth twisted into a scowl. "He's staying here?"

  "Marc, you promised you'd behave yourself."

  "Tell it to David." He hefted the suitcases and headed for the stairs.

  Timothy Jacobs offered John a wry smile and a shrug as he also moved toward the steps. "Melodrama."

  Hellfire and brimstone. Between them and David, it was the most excitement he'd had in his life since Lexie had arrived.

  He wanted boredom back.

  Lexie fastened a towel around her head, then dried off and wrapped a large yellow one around her body, tucking the end to secure it. The mirror showed only slight bags under her eyes. Sleep, a rare commodity of late, hadn't come till dawn. Too much time spent thinking about what had happened between her and David last night. She splashed some cold water on her face to tighten the skin. Leaving the exhaust fan running in the bathroom, she went out into her bedroom.

  A quick rap sounded on the door. "Lex? It's me."

  David.

  Another gentle knock.

  "What?"

  "I need something," David muttered into the crack of the doorjamb. "Open up."

  She partially opened the door. "I'm not dressed yet," she hissed.

  He grinned. "Works for me."

  "You needed something?"

  "Yes. For starters, this." He shoved the door wider, then cupped her face with both hands and kissed her soundly, spreading gooey warmth through her entire body. Memories of their loving last night increased that languid feeling. Would it be enough to change things between them? Make him more receptive to granting her visitation?

  Or had she made a huge mistake indulging herself like that?

  "Mmm." She indulged a little more in some exploration of his eager mouth, then pushed against his chest. "We can't do this now."