by Susan Gable
Summer vacation had begun, and the sound of screaming kids playing outside should've been his first clue that he'd overslept. Overslept! He never overslept. Of course, he didn't usually toss and turn three-quarters of the night, either.
We make this baby the old-fashioned way.
Her words rattled around in his brain, as they had all night long.
What the hell had he gotten himself into?
Throwing back the sheet, he slid from the bed. The dogs scrambled to their feet. "I suppose you guys want to go out?" he asked as he padded to his dresser. They whined in response. He pulled on a pair of navy cotton shorts and walked quickly toward the door.
After they'd taken care of business, he shut them back in his room and headed for the shower. No running or workout at the gym this morning.
The bathroom door snapped open as he reached it, and a towel-clad Harley exited. She stopped short before they collided. The curves of her breasts peeked seductively over the towel. His thin cotton shorts did little to conceal his sudden arousal; he hoped she wouldn't notice. He cleared his throat. "Good morning."
"Morning."
Roses. He leaned closer and inhaled deeply. "You smell good. What is that?"
"My shampoo. I hope you don't mind that I took another shower."
Jake lifted his gaze from the towel to really look at her. Her eyes were wide and filled with … concern? Fear?
"You're welcome to use the shower whenever you want."
"I thought you'd already left. I won't use any more water."
"Water's cheap. I told you to make yourself at home."
She clutched the towel with one hand. "Whatever that means," she muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing. I'll get dressed and get out of here."
"Where will you go? I told you, the room's yours until we find you someplace else to go and a job to support you."
"And then what?"
"Then we talk about my baby again." His gaze swept over her. "And about your terms."
He stifled a groan as uncertainty clouded her eyes. He couldn't allow himself to feel for this woman. This was a business arrangement, no matter how they decided to play it out. "I'm behind schedule. I have to hit the shower now."
She hesitated, then nodded and turned toward Melanie's room. He did his best to ignore the sway of her hips and the long, lean legs that taunted him until she disappeared behind the bedroom door.
He bolted into the bathroom and twisted the cold water tap wide open. Maybe that would clear his head. Maybe that would subdue his hormones. But he doubted it.
* * *
Beggars can't be choosers. Harley knew it, had embraced it as her part of her life's credo, but she hated it. Hated it with a passion. At least there was some challenge to being a mechanic, and damn it, she was good at what she did.
But this?
She plopped down on an overturned plastic bucket and braced the course catalog on her knees. Both overhead doors to the narrow garage that housed the Quik E. Lube stood open, and a sticky breeze flowed through, circulating the smell of oil.
Officially she was an "oil change technician." Unofficially, she was a grease grunt making even less money than Ned's lousy pay.
The one advantage was that the owner trusted her enough to leave her alone in the place. The fact that he knew Jake probably helped.
Harley ran a finger over the list of courses she still needed for her degree: business policy, several more business electives, another literature class—thirty more credits in all. The breeze rustled the pages.
The purr of a finely tuned engine grabbed her attention as a car pulled into the garage. "Oh, yeah!" She dropped the course catalog beside the upturned bucket and stood. "You've got to be kidding me," she said to the convertible's driver. "A Mercedes SL500, and you bring it to Quick E. Lube for work?"
The blond man in a dark suit that screamed money slipped off a pair of dark sunglasses and flashed a perfect set of teeth. "Not the most impressive job of salesmanship I've ever heard."
Harley ran an appreciative eye over the silver car. "Sorry, just telling the truth. This car starts at eighty-thousand—"
"Eighty-three."
"Whatever. If you can afford this, you can afford to take it to the dealer for service. I don't think I even have the parts in stock." She crossed behind the car and headed to the work counter and the computer.
"I don't have time to wait around for dealerships. Time is money and I don't waste either." The man stepped out of the convertible and strutted around to the passenger side, leaning against the door and folding his arms over his chest. "Check quickly."
Harley felt the weight of his stare as he slowly looked her over. She focused on the computer screen as she typed in the model number. "Nope, sorry. Don't have the filter."
"Well, now, that is a loss for me. I would've liked to see you bent over my engine."
Harley's face heated. I'll bet. "Not today."
He straightened away from the car and sauntered around the short counter separating them. "A shame indeed. You know, it's not easy to find a gorgeous woman who appreciates a fine car. I've had bimbos who like the way it looks, but never one who knew the model and price tag just by sight."
Her mouth went dry as he advanced on her. She backed against the wall. "No customers behind the counter." Eyes locked on his, and not liking the predatory stare she found there, she cast blindly across the counter with her left hand.
"I'd like to be more than a customer, baby. I appreciate fine cars, fine wine and fine women." He lowered his gaze to her chest. "And you are one of the finest women I've seen in a long time. I can take you places you've never been before. I came for a lube job—" he ran his tongue over his lips "—and I'd really like to get one. What do you say?"
She found what she was searching for and tightened her grip. "I say, unless you'd like a wrench upside that thick skull of yours, you'd better get back in your car and get the hell out of here." She held the wrench out in front of her.
Pretty Boy stopped in his tracks. "You wouldn't."
"Care to bet those capped teeth on it?"
He slowly—scornfully—looked her up and down again. "Come to think of it, you're not worth the effort. And these teeth probably cost more than you make in a year." He smoothed his suit jacket. "No, now that I take a good look, I don't think a woman with grease under her stubby fingernails is something I need. Not even for a quick lube job." He cast her a final, disparaging glance as he opened the car door. "And I certainly wouldn't have wanted anything more than that from you."
The engine roared and his tires squealed as he tore out of the garage.
The wrench trembled in her hand, and she placed it back on the counter. On slightly unsteady legs, she crossed the garage and retrieved the course catalog.
"Success is the best revenge," she muttered. She would be more than this. Harley Emerson would be somebody worthy of people's respect. And right now it looked like there was only one way to make that dream come true.
* * *
Delighted giggles greeted Harley as she trudged into Jake's house, and she remembered his early-morning comment about babysitting his sister's twins, Grace and Hope, for the evening. She'd met them briefly the day she'd arrived.
This would be the perfect time to check out the truth of his daddy résumé. Would the realty match the hype? After the run-in with Pretty Boy this afternoon, she hoped he'd be able to give a child the happy home she'd always envisioned. The fact that he hadn't pressured her into the surrogacy had already scored him points.
So had the job he'd helped her get, and the fact that he'd invited her to stay until she could accumulate enough money to rent a new apartment. Which would take a few more weeks. Part of her already regretted the day she'd have enough to leave.
The dogs raced to the foyer, skidding to a stop when she pointed a finger in their direction. "No! Sit! Stay!" She unlaced her work boots with a wary eye on them. Tails wagging, they disregarded her comma
nds and ran back the other way.
Harley rounded the corner to find Jake on his hands and knees, a pair of blond "cowgirls" dressed in sleeveless white shirts and tiny jeans riding on his back. The "horse" bucked gently, carrying the toddlers around the living room.
"Now, there's a sight," Harley announced.
Jake started and the little girls shrieked with delight, apparently thinking it was part of the act. "Okay, girls, off you get. The horse needs a rest."
"No," said one twin.
"No," repeated the second.
"Yes. I'll give you another ride later." Jake slid the children off, then rose to his feet, brushing dog hair from his knees. "How was your day?"
Harley clutched the course catalog to her chest. Jake's face was flushed with exertion and excitement, emphasizing his high cheekbones. His normally fastidious clothes were rumpled from his romp with the children, and she decided he'd never looked more appealing.
"Harley?"
"Oh, my day was fine." If you didn't count being bored to death, accosted by a rich jackass or afflicted with PMS. She waved the book at him. "Let me go put this away."
His nieces had wandered off to the sofa, where they were turning a big canvas bag upside down and shaking out the contents. Diapers, powder and other items she couldn't identify tumbled to the floor.
"Girls!" Jake dashed toward them.
Harley chuckled and turned on her heel, walking down the hallway to her room. She eased open the door, then shut it behind her before either of the two dogs or the cat could scoot in. She'd learned quickly that the only way to avoid an animal on her bed was to keep the door closed at all times.
She dropped the course catalog on the dresser and threw herself down on the twin bed. She loved this pretty purple room.
One week in the place had given her a new appreciation for the word home. For this home in particular and for the man who owned it.
"Harley? Did you eat?" Jake called. "We're having pizza if you want some."
Harley pushed herself upright and clambered off the bed. "Sounds good to me."
The twins sat on booster seats attached to the dining-room chairs with straps. As Harley walked in, Jake deftly fastened a bib around one of the girl's necks. He tossed another bib at Harley. "Here, you put on Hope's while I get the pizza."
"Peeza!" Grace shrieked as Harley snatched the bib from the air.
She approached the tiny child with trepidation, turning the bib in various directions. Okay, she was mechanically inclined; she could figure this out. The snaps didn't look that difficult.
Closing them around the neck of a wriggling child, on the other hand, was something else entirely. "Hold still a second, Hope."
Each time she brought the pieces together, the child moved. Fearing she'd choke the little girl, Harley flung the bib on the table in disgust. She glanced at the frilly white blouse and envisioned pizza sauce all over it. "I've got a better idea." She grabbed the bottom of the shirt, tugging it up over the little blond head. It came off easily, and Harley nodded in satisfaction. "There."
She sank into a chair at the end of the table, a twin on either side.
"Peeza!" Grace shrieked again as she pounded her palms on the tabletop. "Me want peeza!"
"Me too, peeza," Hope echoed, mimicking her sister's motions.
"It's coming, squirts, be patient!" Jake emerged from the kitchen, holding two paper plates. He set one in front of each child, cleared his throat when he saw Hope, then raised his eyebrows at Harley.
"What?"
"I asked you to put her bib on, not strip her half-naked."
"Relax. Skin cleans up easy, a lot easier than that white shirt would. You were going to give them a bath tonight, anyway, right?"
Jake nodded.
"There you go. So, you give her a bath, the pizza sauce comes off, and you don't even have a bib to wash."
Jake offered her a half smile. "I have to admit there's a certain logic in that statement."
"Thanks … I think."
By the time supper was over, he definitely conceded the logic of her approach. The twins not only had pizza sauce covering their bibs, or in Hope's case, her chest, but they had it smeared all over their faces, and plastered in their hair. For some reason, feeding them had never been such a messy chore. Of course, Harley's laughter every time they made a mess had encouraged the slovenly eating, but he hadn't had the heart to chastise any of them for it. Harley's laughter delighted him no end.
"I'm going to get their baths ready. You entertain the troops while I'm gone, and whatever you do, don't let them down from those chairs until I call for them."
"I think I can handle it." Harley pulled a bite-size piece of pizza from Grace's hair, then flicked it onto the paper plate. Grace giggled and grabbed it, hurling it to the floor, where Benji immediately raced in to snatch it.
"Don't feed the dogs pizza," Jake admonished.
"Don't tell me, tell your niece. I wouldn't feed the dogs anything. They'd probably take my fingers with it."
Hope, always one step behind her sister, threw a square of pizza at Pepper. "Dog!"
Harley laughed.
"Stop encouraging them, Harley."
She covered her mouth, stifling a chuckle. "Sorry." When her hand came down, her face was a mask of seriousness. "Ladies, this behavior is totally unacceptable and must cease. No more pizza-throwing."
"That's better." He turned and strode down the hallway, gathering towels from the linen closet as he passed. He tried to ignore the implications of the giggles he heard behind him.
Soon he had the tub filled and all the supplies lined up. "Harley! I'm ready. Bring in the dastardly duo."
He debated going to help her. Sometimes getting them both to move in the same direction could be a real challenge.
"Yay!" screamed Grace as she charged into the bathroom, Hope hot on her heels. "Bath!" Grace held her arms over her head, and Jake peeled her shirt off.
Hope plopped onto the floor and yanked off her pink socks. "Me too, bath."
Jake glanced up at Harley, who leaned against the doorjamb. "Okay, how'd you get them both in here so fast?"
She smiled. "That's our little secret, right, girls?"
Blond heads bobbed agreement.
"I've been overrun by women." Jake growled at the twins, inciting shrieks of delight. "All right, if you're so good at hustling them in here, maybe you should give them their bath."
The color drained from her face. "No, I think I'll clean up the dining room and kitchen instead. You deal with the bath." She turned quickly and vanished.
Jake finished undressing the twins and then lifted them into the tub, his thoughts miles away.
Harley obviously had little experience with children, but what she lacked in actual knowledge she made up for with pluck and improvisation. He still knew almost nothing about her family life, and suspected a few more skeletons might fall out of her closet if he rattled it hard enough, but he knew enough to admire her. She was intelligent, spunky and resourceful. She'd make an excellent surrogate.
Images of making that baby occupied his mind far more than he cared to admit. But he felt a sliver of fear, too. What if she turned out to be different from most of the women he'd known? What if she had a hard time spinning through the revolving door and out of his baby's life?
He needed to consult his lawyer again and make sure his biological rights, in addition to the agreement he'd already had drawn up, would be enough to assure him custody if Harley changed her mind about giving up the child.
When would she feel convinced of his fitness as a parent? When could he be sure she was no longer a woman desperate enough to agree to anything? The job was a good first step.
However, keeping her in his house while she carried his baby wasn't a bad idea. He'd be able to monitor things much better that way, bond with the baby before it was even born.
A splash of soapy water hit his face, and Jake blinked, then rubbed his eyes. "Keep the water in the tub, you t
wo. Let's wash your hair and get out of here."
Ten minutes later, he pulled two clean, fresh-smelling toddlers from the tub, then let the water drain. While he wrapped Hope in a towel and began to dry her, Grace seized the opportunity to run naked from the bathroom. "Hey!"
He dried Hope quickly, then wrapped the towel around her and picked her up. Before he could leave the bathroom, Harley appeared in the doorway, Grace held firmly around the middle and tucked under her arm like a football. Grace giggled and kicked her feet wildly.
"I caught this dripping-wet streaker jumping on the sofa. What do you want me do with her?"
Jake grinned. "Dry her off and follow me." He tossed a fluffy yellow towel at her and carried Hope to the living room.
He spread out another towel on the floor and laid the toddler down on it, reaching for the diaper bag. Harley sat on the couch, Grace held captive between her legs while she dried the squirming child. Jake felt her eyes on his every move as he diapered and dressed Hope.
"You're pretty good at that."
"I've had plenty of practice."
"Oh?" She ran the terry cloth over Grace's hair.
"I took care of Mel and Dusty a lot when they were little." Jake scooped Hope off the floor and set her on her feet. "There you go, squirt." He glanced at Harley. "Your turn."
"Oh, no, I'll leave it in your capable hands." She passed Grace to him.
Jake placed the second twin on the towel. "You haven't been around kids much, have you?"
"No."
"No brothers or sisters?"
"No." Her face was taking on that wary expression again.
"Where'd you grow up?" Jake fastened the diaper tabs around Grace's middle.
"Here and there."
He raised his head to meet her gaze and locked eyes with her, refusing to let her off the hook this time. He knew from the day at Dusty and Kate's that she'd lost her father at some point, but surely there were other relatives? "Where's your family now?"
"I—I don't have any."
"None?"
She shook her head. "None to speak of. My—my mother might be out there somewhere, but I don't know where."
