Surprise Delivery

by Susan Mallery

  “Hmm.” She didn’t sound convinced. “I suspect there’s more to it.”

  There was. The wide circle of people around him allowed him to continue in the illusion that he had a place to belong, that there were caring individuals in his life. The reality was he moved them along before they had the chance to get too close and figure out the truth.

  “I want to believe you,” she said. “I want to believe that you’re one of the good guys, but I’ve spent my life being around men who were decent on the surface and lousy underneath. I don’t want to make that mistake again.”

  She stared up at him with a damned earnest expression on her face. God, she was so beautiful with her big eyes and tempting mouth. He wanted to kiss her right there in front of everyone. But he didn’t. If he ever kissed Heather, he wanted it to be in private. Not like this.

  Instead he touched her cheek. “I’m not one of the good guys or bad guys. I’m just a man. I have things I like about myself and things I want to change.”

  “You make it sound so simple.”

  Her skin was like silk against his fingers and he wanted to discover every curve. But this wasn’t the time. He lowered his hand to his side, then shoved it into his jeans pocket. “It is simple,” he told her. “I know you’ve had some bad experiences, but there are more men in the world than those three.”

  She didn’t look convinced. “Can you give me a list of names and phone numbers? I want to meet these regular guys myself. Not that I don’t trust your judgment.”

  “But you don’t,” he said.

  “Not really.” She smiled. “Actually, I do trust you, but your criteria for a good man are probably different from mine. Men get weird when women are involved. Not to mention sex.”

  They were alone in a crowded room. Jim had heard that phrase before, but he’d never experienced it until this moment. Despite the conversation and music flowing around them, he could only see Heather.

  Her gaze held his and he wanted to believe he saw desire there—a flame that matched his own. But he wasn’t sure. Besides, they’d agreed to keep it simple. She was bright and funny and pretty and he was terrified she was going to find out the truth about him. He could understand why he wanted her—what man wouldn’t?—but what would she see in him?

  “I still can’t decide about you,” she said. “If you are a real, live hero, I might have to rethink my opinion of men. Although I’m not thrilled with being someone’s charity case.”

  “You were never that.” He touched her arm, trying to ignore the warmth of her and the softness of her skin and the feel of her blouse against his fingers. “I admire your spirit. You’re strong and brave and devoted to your daughter. You’ve also done a great job at planning your life.”

  She grinned. “Gee, don’t you think a decent grizzly bear mom would have all those same characteristics? Well, not the planning part, but the rest of it. Of course I’m devoted. I love Diane with my whole heart and I’m lucky to have my mother as a role model on how to be a single parent. I’m not so sure about brave. Maybe stubborn would be a better description.”

  “Whatever works,” he said.

  She nodded her agreement. “As for planning my life, I’ll have to disagree with you on that. If I’d planned better, I probably wouldn’t have gotten involved with those three men in my life. Except if I hadn’t met Luke, I wouldn’t have Diane. In my opinion, it was worth it to deal with him because I got her.” She nibbled on her cake. “It’s one of those time-and-space paradoxes that can’t be explained.”

  “I was referring to the plans you made since finding out you were pregnant. You’ve worked with a potentially difficult situation and made the best of it.”

  “Thanks.” Her smile made her eyes crinkle at the corners. “I’ve learned from the best.”

  “I admire you.” He said the words without thinking, then figured she wouldn’t understand what he really meant, so it was safe.

  Her grin broadened. “Okay. I’ll be your hero if you’ll be mine.”

  “I’m not hero material. Wish I were.”

  “Sorry, Jim, but you’re outvoted. And if you don’t believe me, I’d be happy to take an informal poll in this very room.”

  She motioned to the party in progress around them, and he didn’t have any choice but to agree with her and let it go. No one here knew the truth except maybe Flo, who might have guessed it. So he changed the subject and they ended up talking about work. Then Harry and Flo joined them, and his few moments alone with Heather were gone.

  He watched her as she talked with different people, watched the way the fading sunlight played on her hair and how she would excuse herself to check on Diane who was sleeping in a quiet alcove in the hangar. He thought about how much he’d grown to want her, how the wanting was painful at times, and yet he wouldn’t change it for the world. When he wanted Heather, he felt that he was still alive, that he was connecting with another human being. With her around, he could pretend the world wasn’t so very empty.

  He could want her and even need her, but he had to stop short of caring for her. He alone knew the price of that and it was one place he was never going to go to again.

  Chapter Eight

  “This is never going to work!” Heather said with a laugh as her lovely daughter completely ignored the photographer frantically waving a stuffed bear.

  “Of course it will work,” Jim told her seriously. “Diane is being a little coy because she knows she’s the prettiest baby here and she doesn’t want to give anything away, but she’ll come around.”

  “You’re crazy. I love my child and I think she’s brilliant, but she’s not even three months old. There’s no way she’s capable of thinking such complex thoughts.”

  Although when Diane happened to glance at her, a serious and thoughtful expression on her face, Heather suddenly wondered if Jim was right.

  “Maybe she hates being dressed like a rabbit,” she said. After Diane had been photographed wearing a pink dress, they’d put her in a little bunny costume.

  “It’s not that,” Jim said confidently, as if he and Diane had chatted on this very topic.

  “Come on, Diane,” the young male photographer urged as he continued to wave the toy in the air. “Look at the camera and smile so Mommy can have a nice picture of you. Come on.”

  Diane sat propped up against a pile of powder-blue pillows in front of a backdrop painted to look like puffy white clouds and a broad expanse of sky. She wore the terry-cloth bunny jacket and hat with great style, but she didn’t seem the least bit interested in having her picture taken.

  Heather leaned against the front counter and figured she’d have to step in herself at some point to see if she could get Diane to look toward the camera.

  “Are you glad you’re doing this?” Jim asked.

  “Actually, I am.”

  He’d asked her help in picking out a wedding present for Rick and Lupe, then had suggested that they stop by the department-store photographer so that Heather could have pictures taken of Diane. It was, he told her very seriously, important to have a record of her daughter’s changes over the months. Heather hadn’t had the heart to tell him that she already had dozens of photos at home. However, the idea of a more professional photograph had been appealing. She could pick out a couple of different poses and send them along to her mother.

  “Come on, Diane,” the photographer coaxed once more.

  Diane seemed fascinated by a loose thread on one of the pillows.

  “I’ll fix this,” Jim said in that tone of voice that announced he was a man about to solve an important problem. Women and children should step aside.

  Heather did just that. Jim moved to the box of toys and picked out a stuffed purple puppy. He shook it a couple of times as if checking the flexibility of the animal, then walked toward Diane. He crouched down and checked to make sure he wasn’t in the way of the camera.

  “Hi there, sweet cheeks.”

  Diane turned toward the sound of his voi
ce and gave him her best toothless grin. Her entire face lit up, her little eyes scrunching together and her hands waving in delight.

  “Got it,” the photographer said as the camera flashed several times in a row. “Just a couple more.”

  “You want a puppy?” Jim asked, holding up the stuffed animal. “Can you say puppy?”

  Diane’s expression remained thrilled. She was getting attention from the favorite guy in her life. Heather watched her daughter and realized the situation had just gotten more complicated. It had probably been that way all along, but she hadn’t been aware of it. Here she was trying to keep the possibly perfect Jim Dyer at arm’s length while not noticing how her daughter had bonded with him. In Diane’s very simple world, Jim fulfilled all the functions of a father.

  Heather reacted first with panic, then forced herself to stay calm. She didn’t have to change anything just yet. Jim was great with her daughter, and until she found a reason to worry, she should just be happy that her child was surrounded by people who adored her.

  Her own concerns were different. Because she was an adult, her relationship with him was more complicated…especially because she still couldn’t find any serious flaws in his character. Even so, she couldn’t escape the suspicion that he was hiding something pretty big. What was it? Had he robbed banks in his youth? Did he practice extortion? There had to be something because no one was that good.

  “That should do it,” the photographer said. “You can pick the pictures up in ten days.”

  “Thanks,” Heather said, but made no move to collect Diane. Jim was already taking care of that, first removing her costume, then holding her close.

  “You were brilliant,” he told the infant as he cradled her in his arms before setting her into the stroller and carefully securing her in place. “Very lovely. The pictures will be beautiful because you’re beautiful. Yes, you are. And smart and fun. Did I mention you were my favorite little girl in the whole world?”

  He straightened and gave Heather a quick smile. “She says she’s ready to go, but she wants us to leave via the toy department.”

  Heather settled her purse strap over her shoulder and motioned for Jim to push the stroller. “She did not say that. You said that. And she doesn’t need any more toys.”

  Jim looked hurt. “She did so tell me. She whispered it. I know the books say kids can’t talk yet, but she does. She’s a little worried about upsetting you, so she doesn’t want me to tell you.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “You need to pretend you don’t know.”

  He looked completely serious, Heather thought, trying not to laugh. As if he believed every silly thing he said. How was she supposed to resist a man with a perfect sense of the ridiculous?

  Perfect. There was that word again.

  She sighed. “Fine. We can go through the toy department, but you are not allowed to buy her anything.”

  “Of course not.” He looked hurt at even the suggestion.

  Heather knew better than to believe that expression. They would get into the middle of the doll aisle and he would go crazy picking out a half-dozen things for Diane. She’d seen it happen before.

  There are worse things, she reminded herself. Jim was a lot of fun and he genuinely cared about her and her child. Maybe he was a little too indulgent, but they could both survive that.

  They walked to the elevator, then waited to go down to the basement. Heather noticed a couple of women glancing at Jim with a hint of longing in their eyes. That she understood completely. He was too good-looking by far. She still had trouble when he smiled and flashed his dimple. Her thighs quivered just at the thought. He was tall and strong and smart and gentle and…And she’d better watch herself or she’d end up doing something silly, like falling for him.

  Five minutes later, Jim stood in front of Diane. He held several dolls in each arm. “Which do you like the best?” he asked.

  Diane blinked but otherwise didn’t respond.

  “You’re ignoring me,” Jim said patiently. “I’m going to hold these up one by one and you let me know which one you want.” He held up the first doll, a cloth beauty with cotton curls, and shook it. Diane yawned.

  Heather stood by the stroller. “You shouldn’t be doing this. I’ve already said she has more stuff now than she’ll ever play with. She’s a baby. Toys aren’t that important.”

  “I know all that, but what you keep forgetting is that I’m not just doing this for her. I’m doing it for me. I like buying her things.” He returned his attention to Diane. “Okay, so none of these work. Let me get another batch.”

  He walked down the aisle, both putting the dolls he already had back in place and collecting new ones. Heather didn’t know whether to laugh or strangle him.

  “Your husband is very devoted to his daughter,” a voice said from behind her.

  Heather turned and saw an older woman smiling at her. She held several toys in her arms.

  “I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation,” the woman continued. “You have a very lovely family. That’s nice to see.”

  Rather than trying to explain the situation, Heather said, “Thank you. I feel very lucky.”

  The older woman waved and walked toward the cashier.

  Heather stared after her. No doubt she and Jim did look like a married couple out with their baby on a Saturday afternoon. A wave of sadness and longing swept over her. Part of her wanted it to be true—if not with Jim, then with someone else. There were times when it was difficult to be alone.

  But she’d already had her chance. Three chances, in fact, and each time she’d struck out. Was she really willing to try again? She knew how to be a good single parent because she’d grown up with one. She wasn’t afraid of taking care of Diane on her own. Yet sometimes she was lonely and wanted more. Was that person Jim? She looked at the man patiently trying to get her eleven-week-old baby to pick out a doll. How was she supposed to resist him? How could she not? Nothing in her life had allowed her to experience a relationship with a normal, loving guy who wanted the same things she did. Why would she think her luck was about to change now?

  *

  Heather heard Jim’s tuneless humming as he prepared the barbecue for their steaks. She finished burping her daughter, then set Diane down to sleep.

  “I love you, sweet cheeks,” she murmured as she stroked her baby’s face. Diane made a soft cooing sound, more breath than vowel, but it was enough to make Heather smile. “You’re a special little girl, aren’t you?”

  Heather pulled the drapes shut, then stepped out of the room and into the hallway. She followed the sound of Jim’s voice and found him on the patio, carefully lighting the charcoal he’d poured into the barbecue.

  “This will take a little time to heat up,” he said without turning to look at her. “Give me thirty more seconds and I’ll join you inside.”

  She moved back into the living room. As she did so, she wondered how he’d known she was behind him. She didn’t think she’d made any noise, nor was she wearing perfume. He’d just known. The way she sometimes knew things about him.

  It was just the result of their spending several evenings together each week, she told herself. They were friends, nothing more. But she couldn’t help the warmth that spread through her or the flash of fear that followed. What was that expression? Damned if she did and damned if she didn’t.

  Two large bags stood by the front door. They were the wedding presents Jim had purchased earlier that day for Rick and Lupe’s wedding. Heather had steered him clear of an incredibly ugly, incredibly expensive ceramic clock and had instead persuaded him to buy several items from their gift registry.

  She glanced around the room. On the sofa was a big bag containing a stuffed bear several times larger than Diane. Jim had insisted it was exactly what the infant needed, and that as she got older, she could sleep with it and never have to worry about being afraid of monsters in the closet. Heather didn’t completely agree with his reasoning, but she’d given up prot
esting after about ten minutes of heated argument. Some things just weren’t worth winning.

  Her gaze moved to the new mini blinds in the living-room window. Mini blinds she’d purchased six months before but had never found time to hang. In the kitchen and bathroom she had new towel racks, and her bedroom furniture had been shifted so that the morning sun no longer shone directly into her eyes. All compliments of Jim. He’d also put together most of Diane’s furniture and fixed the baby monitor when it had suddenly stopped working.

  “You’re looking serious about something,” Jim said as he came in the back door. “Everything all right?”

  “Yes.” She pointed to the sofa, then went into the kitchen to get him a beer. She collected a glass of water for herself. “I was just thinking about everything you’ve done in the house,” she said as she returned and took a seat at the opposite end of the sofa.

  He paused in the act of opening the bottle and frowned. “Are you going to get all feminist on me and tell me that you resent a man helping?”

  She laughed. “Not at all. I appreciate your help. Most of the stuff I could have done on my own, but I’m willing to admit that it was nice to have assistance.”

  He didn’t look convinced.

  “I swear I’m telling the truth,” she said, crossing her heart. “I grew up with a mother who learned to do a lot on her own. She was really good at it, but she would’ve liked having a man to help around the house, especially with anything heavy. I would’ve put up the mini blinds myself, but by the time they arrived, I was a little too pregnant to feel comfortable standing on a ladder, so they had to wait.”

  “If you hadn’t helped me, I wouldn’t have picked out the right present for the wedding,” he said cautiously, as if still worried that she might yell at him. “I’m terrible at choosing ties.”

  She shifted until she was facing him, then tucked her right leg under her. “If you’re trying to make me feel that we each contribute the same in the helping category, you’re not doing a very good job, but don’t worry about it. I was making an observation, not complaining. You’ve been very kind to me and I appreciate it.”