“You’re an exasperating woman at times, do you know that? My mid-life crisis is tough enough to handle without having to deal with this cockeyed program of yours.”
Hannah’s eyes widened. “My stars, you’re having a mid-life crisis? Aren’t you rather young for that?”
“At thirty-four?. Yeah, I think I am, but there’s no other explanation for the way I’ve been feeling.”
“Such as?”
“Restless, edgy, wired. My leisure time is the pits all of a sudden, and I—” He stopped speaking and sliced one hand through the air. “Cut. You’re tricky, Ms. Doodle, very clever, but it didn’t work. We’re discussing you here, not me.”
“Actually, this discussion is finished because I’m exhausted and I’m going to bed.” She got to her feet. “I want to thank you again for coming over when the electricity went out. It was very kind and thoughtful of you. I’ll buy some batteries for my flashlight so I’ll be properly prepared in the future.”
“Well, keep my flashlight in the meantime. I have another one.” He started toward the door. “I’ll get out of here and let you get some sleep.”
Hannah followed him to the door. Ted opened it, then turned to look at her.
“And the discussion is not finished.” He brushed a kiss over her lips. “Good night, Hannah.”
“Good night, Ted,” she said softly.
He left the apartment and Hannah locked the door behind him. She stood statue-still for a moment, the fingertips of one hand floating upward to rest on her lips.
“Forget it,” she said aloud. “Come on, Daisy. It’s time for bed.”
The next evening, Ted, Deedee and Ryan sat at a round table on the MacAllisters’ deck, enjoying dinner.
Teddy was already in bed for the night, having refused to take an afternoon nap. The tired baby had been more than ready to be tucked into his crib shortly after Ted had arrived.
Scooter the beagle was planted firmly across Ryan’s feet.
“Why does she do that?” Ryan said, peering under the table. “Every time I sit down, she flops onto my feet. When I move or get up, she’s disturbed, then does it all over again.”
“Maybe she has a foot fetish,” Ted said.
“Only for Ryan’s feet,” Deedee said, laughing. “She doesn’t do it to anyone else.”
“Lucky me,” Ryan said dryly. “I can’t tell you how thrilled I am.”
“Have some more pizza, honey,” Deedee said. “Just pretend she’s not there.” She reached for a slice for herself. “Super-Duper Pizza Supreme Deluxe Extraordinaire. Mmm, delicious. I’m so glad Jillian introduced us to this delight from Mario’s. It was awfully nice of you to bring it, Ted.”
“It’s a bribe,” he said, taking another slice. “I need the two of you to give me some advice.”
“Really?” Ryan said. “We were together the entire day, Sharpe, and you didn’t tap into my genius-level brain.”
“Because,” he said, glaring at Ryan, “you’re not a woman.”
“He certainly isn’t,” Deedee said, batting her eyelashes at her husband. “And I can’t begin to tell you how pleased I am about that fact.”
“Could we get serious here, people?” Ted said.
“I told you he was hard to live with, Deedee,” Ryan said. “I may have to shoot him to put him out of his mid-life-crisis misery and save my own sanity.”
“Hush, Ryan,” she said. “Ted is, even as we speak, contemplating punching you in the nose.”
“Oh. Okay, Theodore, you have the floor.”
“I don’t want to talk about my mid-life crisis,” Ted said, frowning. “The subject matter is Hannah.”
“Ms. Doodle?” Deedee said.
“Yeah. Now then, listen up.”
Ted related the conversation he’d had with Hannah the previous evening, omitting the fact that he’d kissed her. He also failed to mention that he’d spent the night tossing and turning, due to his body aching with desire.
“Goodness,” Deedee said when Ted stopped speaking. “Let me sum this up, to be certain I understand it all correctly.”
“Whatever,” Ted muttered.
“Hannah Johnson,” Deedee said, staring into space, “believes she is unable to properly perceive the true nature of a man. Her choices in the past have been wrong, because the men were never who she believed them to be.”
Ted nodded. “Yup.”
“Therefore,” Deedee went on, “she’s determined to never again become seriously involved with a man. She’s very calm about her conclusion, has moved past the pain of being hurt time and again and now presents the philosophy for her entire future as calmly as she might report on the weather. Right?”
“That’s it in a nutshell,” Ted said.
“Okay,” Ryan said. “But what are we supposed to give you advice about?”
“You’re so dense, MacAllister,” Ted said. “Read my lips. How do I convince Hannah that she’s making a terrible mistake? She’s sentencing herself to a life alone for no reason. So, yeah, she picked some duds, including her husband, but there are nice guys in this world.”
“Like you?” Deedee said.
“No, Deedee, not like me.” Ted paused. “I mean, I consider myself a nice guy, but that’s beside the point. I’m not attempting to get her to trust and believe in me, or have a relationship with me. I just think I should convince her to chuck her lousy philosophy, and keep an open mind about men in general, so she doesn’t miss out on the happiness she deserves to have.”
“Oh-h-h, I see,” Deedee said. “That makes sense.”
“It does?” Ryan said.
Deedee patted his hand. “Trust me. It does.”
“Why do you consider this your mission to undertake?” Ryan asked Ted.
“Because I’m a nice guy, remember?” he said, nearly shouting.
“Stay calm, gentlemen,” Deedee said. “Ted, I’m very impressed by your noble intentions.”
“Oh, brother,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes heavenward.
“Hush, Ryan,” Deedee said. “Ted, the first order of business is for us to meet Hannah. It’s extremely difficult to give you advice about a person we know in name only. Why don’t the four of us go out to dinner Saturday night? We’ll pick a place that isn’t too fancy, but quiet enough to chat easily.”
“What am I supposed to say to her?” Ted said. “‘Hey, Hannah, want to go out to dinner so Dee-dee…forget about Ryan being any help…can gather data on you, and formulate a plan I can use to straighten out your wacko thinking?’ Give me a break.”
“No, idiot,” Ryan said. “You say that as her friendly neighbor it has occurred to you that you know some terrific people she might like to meet, so how about going out to dinner with you and them?”
“Ryan MacAllister,” Deedee said, “that’s marvelous.” She narrowed her eyes. “When did you become such a slick operator?”
He grinned at her. “I have hidden talents.”
“Mmm,” she said, raising one eyebrow.
“Well,” Ted said, “I could try that approach, I guess. I’ll let you know how it goes.” He looked at Ryan. “Terrific people?”
“Terrific,” Ryan repeated decisively, then his eyes widened. “Oh, hell.”
“What’s wrong?” Deedee said.
“Scooter just wet on my shoes!”
Deedee and Ted dissolved in laughter.
After Ted left, Deedee and Ryan remained on the deck, watching the stars appear like sparkling diamonds on black velvet.
“Hannah Johnson,” Deedee said finally, breaking the comfortable silence.
“I told you Ted was acting weird. Some people get hooked on saving the whales. Sharpe is determined to save Ms. Doodle…from herself.”
“Tsk, tsk,” Deedee said. “You didn’t see the forest for the tree in front of your nose.”
“Huh?”
“Honey, remember when I said that Ted was attracted to Hannah? What he doesn’t realize yet is that he’s on this campaign for hims
elf. He wants to change Hannah’s philosophy so she’ll give him a chance to be an important part of her life.’’
“He does?”
“Yes, my sweet, he most certainly does.”
“Well,” Hannah said, “I don’t know, Ted.”
“Hey, Deedee and Ryan are terrific people,” Ted assured her. “Wouldn’t you like to make some new friends?”
“They’re the ones who are parents to your godson, Teddy?”
“Yes.”
“That would be nice. You know…to talk to the mother of a baby. My teacher friends don’t have any children.”
“It’s settled then. We’ll all go out to dinner. Saturday night to a casual but quiet restaurant. I’ll pick you up at seven o’clock.”
Chapter Six
On Saturday evening, Hannah sat at the piano playing Claire de Lune, willing the lovely melody to soothe her jangled nerves.
She did not want to go to dinner with Ted and his terrific friends. Why she had accepted the invitation, she had no idea.
She was going to feel like a bug under a microscope the entire evening, she just knew it.
Ted Sharpe, Mr. Swinging Bachelor of the Decade, was going to parade a pregnant, divorced woman in front of Deedee and Ryan MacAllister, instantly evoking their curiosity about her personal circumstances, and bringing to the front of their minds the question of what on earth a man like Ted was doing with the likes of her.
So, yes, all right, Ted’s intentions had been admirable. He seemed very sincere about the conclusion he’d drawn that she might like to make new friends. The fact that Deedee and Ryan were parents of a baby held appeal, and she’d agreed to the proposal before thoroughly thinking it through.
She hadn’t had one glimpse of Ted since he’d shown up at her door to present the plans for Saturday night.
On two occasions, she’d stood in the hallway fully prepared to march to his apartment and inform him that she’d changed her mind about the dinner date.
Both times, she’d decided she would sound like a childish idiot, and had rushed back into the safe haven of her living room.
Dinner date, her mind echoed. Dinner date? No, no, no, this was not a date in the usual sense of the word. She didn’t have a date with Ted, swinging single that he was. That thought was really absurd. She didn’t go out with men like him, whether she was pregnant or not.
No, this wasn’t a date. It was a…
“Well, drat,” she said, increasing the volume of her playing, “I don’t know what this thing is, but I don’t want to go.”
Daisy managed to climb up one of the legs of the piano bench, then sat next to Hannah, giving the impression she’d arrived for the sole purpose of listening to the music.
Hannah smiled at the kitten, then continued to play, her fingers flying over the keys, pounding out Claire de Lune louder and louder.
* * *
A grin broke across Ted’s face as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror to comb his hair.
Claire de Lune, he thought, was being played on the piano by Ms. Doodle at a volume that was probably being heard by the occupants of the apartment on the other side of her, as well as by those on the floor above and below.
Hannah certainly was an accomplished pianist, and the song was hauntingly beautiful. That, however, was ‘beside the point. What was being telegraphed was the fact that Hannah was stressed, nervous about the evening ahead.
Ted nodded at his reflection, a smug expression on his face.
He’d known, just somehow known, that Hannah would get cold feet about the dinner date with him, Deedee and Ryan. He’d very carefully kept out of sight since issuing the invitation so she’d have no opportunity to cancel.
Each time he arrived at the apartment complex, he’d checked to see if her car was in the parking lot. If it was, he used the back stairs, to be certain she couldn’t corner him in the elevator. He’d peer down the hall, then hightail it to his own apartment.
To wiggle out of going to dinner, Hannah would be forced to knock on his door, then present whatever lame excuse she’d manufactured. She might have considered doing exactly that, but he’d figured—and had been right—that she wouldn’t have the courage to do it.
“You clever son-of-a-gun,” he said to his image.
Ted left the bathroom, then shrugged into a gray sport coat that he wore over black trousers and a pale blue dress shirt open at the neck.
Without realizing he was doing it, he began to hum along with the music still reverberating through the wall. He shot the cuff of his shirt to check his watch, and realized he was ready to go far too early.
Wandering around the living room, he continued to hum as he straightened some magazines on the coffee table, then scooped a pile of junk mail off the sofa and dumped it in the trash.
In the kitchen, he put three glasses and two coffee mugs in the dishwasher, then wiped a blob of catsup off the counter.
As he surveyed the area for anything else needing his attention, he suddenly frowned.
Why was he spit-shining his apartment? He was admittedly a bit of a slob, and had never apologized to anyone for that fact. So, why was he fussing over a few dirty dishes and scattered mail?
It wasn’t as though he was expecting company. He’d collect and deposit Hannah at her own place. She’d have no reason to be in his. Even if she was going to come in, he’d never worried about appearances when he’d brought other women in here.
Lord, was his mid-life crisis going to change him into a neatnick? What a disconcerting thought.
“Forget it,” he said, starting across the room.
He had a dinner date with a lovely lady and two of his closest friends. Everyone would have a nice time. Deedee would get to know Hannah, and therefore be able to give him advice on how to tackle Ms. Doodle’s ridiculous program for her future.
He left one lamp on, turned off another, went to the door and grabbed the knob.
Dinner date? he thought, not opening the door. As in, he had a date with Hannah Johnson to go out to dinner? Well, no, not really. Sort of. But not exactly. The evening ahead was set in motion so Deedee could accomplish a fact-finding mission regarding Hannah.
It wasn’t a date, per se.
Well, yeah, okay, so he’d found himself looking forward to the event. Hell, he’d been in a better mood today than he’d enjoyed in quite a while.
Fine, that made sense. Hannah was an attractive, nice-to-be-with woman. Why shouldn’t he be anticipating the pleasure of her company? Not, of course, that this was officially a date.
“Sharpe,” he said aloud, shaking his head in self-disgust, “get out of here before you think yourself to death.”
When Ted knocked on Hannah’s door, the lilting music within the apartment stopped abruptly. A few moments later, Hannah opened the door.
“Hello, Ted,” she said, not smiling. She stepped backward, her hand on the doorknob. “Come in.”
Ted didn’t move. When a sharp pain radiated across his chest, he realized he was also not breathing and attempted to unobtrusively draw much-needed air into his lungs.
Oh, Lord, his mind hammered, Hannah was a vision of loveliness. She was just so…so beautiful.
His gaze swept over her, missing no detail of her silky dark hair, those incredible big dark eyes, the white velvet texture of her skin. And her lips, those kissable lips, that were beckoning to him.
She was wearing a powder blue maternity dress with a gracefully draping bow tied at the neck and tiny pleats across the bodice. The slope of her stomach beneath the soft material was sensuously feminine. Her medium-heel navy blue pumps accentuated her shapely calves and slender ankles.
Hannah cocked her head slightly to one side, causing her hair to swing in an enticing dark curtain around her face. She looked at him questioningly.
“Ted?” she said. “Is something wrong?”
He blinked. “What? Oh!”
He stepped into the room and Hannah shut the door as he turned to face her,
his heart thundering.
Then Hannah smiled.
“Oh, hell,” he said, dropping his chin to his chest. He raised his head again and closed the distance between them. Framing her face in his hands, he lowered his head and kissed her.
Hannah’s smothered gasp of surprise instantly changed into a purr of pleasure as she parted her lips to receive Ted’s tongue. Her hands floated upward to encircle his neck as he wrapped his arms around her. The kiss deepened and passions soared.
It had been an eternity since he’d kissed Hannah, Ted thought hazily. A lifetime. Forever. He needed this kiss with an intensity beyond description. It was filling him with a warmth separate and apart from the heated desire coiling in his body.
Hannah, his mind hummed. Yes.
Hannah inched her fingertips into Ted’s thick hair, urging his mouth harder onto hers, savoring his taste, aroma, the ecstasy of his tongue dueling with hers.
A part of her knew that kissing Ted was wrong. It was what she had pledged not to do ever again. But the other section of herself didn’t care. The kiss was heavenly, and she wanted it to go on and on.
Ted lifted his head, drew a ragged breath, then shifted his hands to Hannah’s shoulders, easing her away from his throbbing, aching body.
“Hannah,” he said, then cleared his throat as he heard the gritty quality of his voice.
“Hmm?” she said dreamily, then ordered herself to pay attention to what Ted was saying. “Yes?”
“Don’t go nuts because of that kiss. Okay? You know, don’t whip your that-shouldn’t-have-happened spiel on me, because it was a perfectly justifiable kiss.”
“This ought to be good,” she said, smiling. “All right, Ted, I’m all ears. Why was that a perfectly justifiable kiss?”
“Because, Ms. Doodle, it was a hello-Hannah-it’s-good-to-see-you kiss. Neat and tidy. Get it?”
The Father of Her Child (The Baby Bet #3) Page 7
