ANYBODY'S DAD

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ANYBODY'S DAD Page 3

by Amy Fetzer


  "No." Tessa was annoyed that Dana addressed Chase, waiting for his command. The interfering man.

  "Just water," Chase said, laying Tessa on the stuffed couch. He tugged off her shoes as Dana filled a glass from the cooler and brought it to him, then left, closing the door.

  "I have to see to Miss Dewberry."

  "That crabapple can wait."

  "This is a business, Chase Madison, and I need hers."

  She started to get up, but he pressed her gently back down, handing her the glass before pulling a chair alongside the sofa. He sat. "Drink." When she looked as if she'd rebel, he tipped the glass to her lips. She drank obediently. "Are you hungry?"

  "I never had the chance to eat it," she said, gesturing to the meal on her desk, her breathing a little fast. Chase stood and scooped up the sandwich and fruit, bringing it back and setting it beside her on the sofa. "Eat."

  "Eat. Drink," she grunted lowly. "Can't you do anything but bark at me?"

  "Yes." His gaze swept her leisurely. "But I'll get to that later," he said in the sexiest voice God could create, and Tessa had to smile. He really was too handsome.

  She bit into the sandwich half, moaning with pleasure, and Chase wanted to hear more of it, when he kissed her someday. The sandwich was gone in seconds, and as she reached for the other half, Chase leaned back in the chair, stretching out his legs. It amazed him how much he enjoyed just watching her. She was totally focused on her food, devouring it in minutes, drinking water, popping bits of fruit into her lovely mouth. He didn't think she remembered he was there until she frowned at the empty wrappers and looked around as if searching for crumbs. He chuckled and her gaze flew to his, a dull red creeping into her face. Tessa wiped her mouth with a paper napkin and shrugged. She wasn't going to make excuses for her appetite.

  "Want me to get you more?"

  "No, thank you. We're satisfied." She patted her stomach.

  We. A package deal. Chase had racked his brains for a solution to their problem, but late last night, when only her fiery green eyes filled his mind, he realized that first he had to get to know her. Then they could do something about their child and the opposition they had.

  Sitting here with her, taking care of her, felt so natural he wanted it to go on. However, the uncomfortable look on her face said she didn't want him around, ever. It stung, he admitted, and abruptly stood to refill her glass.

  A rap on the door and Dana popped her head around the panel. Chase looked up, glancing between the girl and Tessa.

  "I'm sorry, Miss Lightfoot, but Miss Dewberry is asking for you. I tried to explain, but I think she's going to leave."

  Tessa straightened, swinging her legs off the couch.

  "You stay put," Chase commanded, pointing at her, and Tessa froze. He looked at the salesgirl. "Tell Miss Dewberry to keep her shorts on. I'll take care of her."

  "You?" both women squeaked, stunned.

  "Yes, dammit, me." He waved Dana on, then turned to Tessa, lifting her legs back onto the couch.

  "I have to get back to her."

  His gaze darkened. She looked more ready to sleep than work. "Let her wait."

  "Chase Madison, this is my shop, my livelihood, and that woman—" she pointed to the door "—no matter how finicky she can be, is a very good paying customer."

  He towered over her, forcing her to crane her neck to look up at him. His body blocked the light, blocked any escape, and she felt like a prisoner before an armed Marine.

  "Don't try to tell me what to do," she warned. "Just because there's a child between us does not give you rights over my life."

  Chase's shoulders drooped and he knelt beside the couch, looking her in the eye. "I deal with people like that woman all the time." Her expression was doubtful. "I can't tell you how many of my customers have decided what they wanted only to insist my crew rip it out and start over a week later." When he realized she wasn't buying the comparison, he tried another route. "You're tired, Tessa. Your feet are swollen."

  She looked at them, wiggling plump toes. "I've learned to live with it."

  Chase sighed and snatched up a pillow, stuffing it beneath her knees, then pushing her back into the cushions. "I'm not trying to take over. God knows, I don't know squat about women's clothes." He flashed her that devastating grin. "Except maybe taking them off." Her eyes flared. "But," he warned, "you're pushing yourself too hard." She opened her mouth and he put up his hand. "I swear I won't let that old biddy leave without buying at least one of your creations."

  "She usually buys two, with shoes."

  Chase smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and Tessa felt the warmth of his honest feelings down to her sore feet. How had he wiggled his way into playing concerned lover? No, he wasn't after her, she reminded herself, but his child, and she refused to believe he was interested in her, the woman. His marriage proposal was a path into her baby's life. The baby obviously meant more to him than she had first imagined. Suddenly, Tessa hated him for trying to get close and she hated herself for getting comfortable.

  Chase's lips thinned as her expression suddenly hardened. He didn't think someone so soft and lovely could deal such a loathsome look with that much power. He sighed tiredly, took the glass and set it on the desk.

  "Rest, Miss Lightfoot," he said tersely, then moved to the door.

  "Chase?"

  He stilled, his hand on the knob, his back to her. "Yeah?"

  "This doesn't change anything."

  He glanced back over his shoulder, looking her over. "If you say so."

  Tessa did not like the sound of that. Not at all.

  "He actually came in here and sold dresses?" Dia said when she arrived twenty minutes after Chase had left, and Tessa wanted to pinch her. It wasn't that big a deal. Yet when Dana nodded, Dia squealed with laughter. Tessa gave her sister a thin-lidded glare, and Dana, impressionable creature that she was, gushed.

  "He's so cute and Miss Dewberry was just drooling over him. She bought the dresses you tried to get her to try on," Dana said to Tessa. "You know, the ones that actually fit." The salesgirl turned back to Dia. "He even sold her shoes and a hat! God—" Dana fanned herself, sighing dreamily "—he fills out those jeans sooo nicely. For a man his age, of course."

  "Of course," Dia agreed, her smile quivering. Dana looked at Tessa suddenly. "How do you know him?"

  Tessa's skin fused with heat and she glanced at Dia. "He's ah—um—" How was she supposed to explain this? It was all getting so complicated. She looked at Dia, her expression pleading for help.

  Dia let her squirm for a few seconds, then said, "He's just a friend … of the family, you could say."

  Dana nodded, obviously satisfied, and excused herself to collect the remnants of Chase's whirlwind sales victory.

  "Where is he now?"

  "How the hell should I know!"

  Dia reared back, eyeing her sister thoughtfully. "God, you are tired."

  "No, I'm not." Tessa flipped through hung garments, checking the sizes. "I'm angry. You were no help in that meeting yesterday, Dia. None."

  Dia's brows drew down and she pulled Tessa from the center of the store and into the little alcove behind the register. She gripped her sister's arms, forcing her to calm down.

  "Whether you think that or not is irrelevant. Chase Madison could have sued for custody, Tessa. He still could." Tessa paled. "We're damn lucky he has a heart, because if he didn't, as soon as you gave birth, this baby could have been taken by the courts until an agreement was reached. Do you want someone else holding your newborn baby before you? Caring for her? Deciding your child's future? Or would it kill you to be his friend?"

  "Yes. It will," Tessa cried dejectedly, the images her sister painted striking her hard. "It will give him leverage. I can't trust him."

  Dia let her go and stepped back. "No one says you have to marry the man, for God's sake."

  "No one but him."

  "Oh, get real." Tessa arched a brow and Dia's features stretched taut as she said,
"You're serious?"

  "Don't listen to the messages on your private line much, do you? I called you immediately after our lunch, all night and this morning."

  Dia's gazed faltered. "I was … out of town for the evening."

  Tessa gave her sister the once-over, then smiled softly. At least someone was having fun, she thought, then explained their lunch date.

  Dia folded her arms and propped her hip against the counter, looking very much the high-powered attorney. "Did he badger you?"

  Arranging ribbons on a dowel rod, Tessa gave her a side glance. "No."

  "Would you consider his visit harassment?"

  "No." How could she? He'd helped her, saw that her best customer was satisfied, and had only her best health in mind, damn him. If he hadn't forced her to rest, she'd have kept going and that wouldn't have been good for her or her baby.

  "If we put a restraining order on him, it might make him pursue custody."

  "Then don't." Tessa dropped her head back onto her shoulders, sighing long and slow. "I'm not due for another three months—let's not look for trouble. Maybe he'll lose interest."

  When Dia didn't respond, Tessa looked at her sister. "Don't hold your breath," she finally said.

  Tessa felt as if she were tottering on a peg with nothing to stop her fall, waiting for the shove that would send her into oblivion. "Go ahead, say it, I see it in your eyes."

  "I've never seen a man more determined to be a father, Tessa."

  "Me, either," came dispiritedly.

  Dia laid a hand on her arm, forcing Tessa to meet her gaze and listen hard. "Then perhaps for once in your life you ought to quit planning out every facet with annoyingly meticulous detail and just go with it."

  Tessa eyed her warily. "You like him, don't you?"

  Dia shrugged elegantly clad shoulders. "I'm not the one who matters, but yes. He's charming, handsome, smart, a decorated ex-Marine, owns his own business, comes from a good family." Her eyes sparkled suddenly, devilishly. "Has two drop-dead gorgeous brothers—"

  "Great." She rolled her eyes. "If he's won you over, what chance have I got? And isn't that conflict of interest or something?"

  "Hey, I wouldn't worry so much, Sis," Dia said, slinging her arm over her sister's shoulder and dropping a kiss to her temple. "He hasn't met Mom or Samantha. They'll make any man run for the hills."

  Tessa laughed softly at the picture of her eccentric mother and Chase in the same room. Even though she never wanted him that deep into her life, it would be something to see. She wondered idly what he'd say if her mother read his palm before ever speaking to him.

  The door chime jingled and Tessa said goodbye to her sister. Dia flipped open her cellular phone, thumb-dialed a call as she grabbed her briefcase and left the shop in a brisk walk. Dia needed to slow down, Tessa thought. She was always in a rush to be somewhere she wasn't.

  Tessa walked over to the customer, smiling and offering herb tea. The older, distinguished-looking woman smiled back, so warm and endearingly gentle that Tessa felt the tension in her wash away like a summer rain. This was the first person in a long time to look at her and not her tummy. As Tessa went to prepare tea, she decided that Chase Madison could be as charming and as likable as he wanted. Her guard was up, cemented into place, and ex-Marine or not, he wasn't storming past it.

  Chase's gaze snapped up from the pile of tomatoes so carefully arranged in the bin. "Are you following me?" he asked hopefully.

  "Hardly." Tessa's eyes narrowed on him, her hand on her hip. "I could ask the same of you."

  "Yes." Unashamed, reckless.

  "What?"

  "I found out you shopped here, every Monday morning, at nine." His forehead wrinkled a bit. "Are you always so predictable?"

  "No." She jammed tomatoes into a plastic sack.

  "Careful, they'll bruise."

  "I want to bruise you," she hissed over the stack of red fruits.

  Chase's grin widened.

  "Will you quit smiling!"

  He didn't. "Bothers you, doesn't it?"

  "Everything about you bothers me." She dropped her selection into the cart and moved on.

  Chase rounded the bin and dogged her heels. "What bothers you the most? That I'm the father of our baby or that you're attracted to me?"

  "Is your ego always so overblown, Mr. Madison?"

  He caught the cart, keeping her near, and Tessa felt her insides shift and twist. And it had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with her baby. Those disgustingly sculptured shoulders of his looked bigger and more muscular than when he was in her shop on Saturday, his eyes a darker blue and unspeakably intimate as they traveled the line of her body, caressing it without touching. As if they weren't in the middle of the produce aisle drawing attention, for heaven's sake.

  "Admit it, you feel this—" he inhaled through clenched teeth, his gaze simmering "—this assault on the senses, the blood, every time we get close."

  "Sexual attraction is hardly the basis for a relationship—" Oh, what made her admit that?

  "Aha. So you have thought about it."

  He was grinning again, the rat. "No." Her reddening cheeks contradicted her.

  "Liar."

  "I'm not lying. Now, leave me alone." She brushed him aside with the cart. He was right beside her, nodding to the eavesdroppers and interested customers.

  "I'm here, Tessa, to stay. Get used to it." Half threat, half coaxing.

  "Not a chance." She wouldn't look at him, dropping item after item into her cart.

  Chase knew he was getting to her. "God, you eat that?"

  She looked to see what he meant and frowned, then snatched up the sardines, replaced them on the shelf and reached for tuna. Oh, just go away, she thought.

  "Got you all confused, don't I? Wondering where I'll turn up next?"

  She spared him a withering glance. "Amuse yourself with the idea, Mr. Madison. You have so far."

  "I'm going to do more than amuse myself with it," he said with a long glance down her body. Those eyes were dangerous, she thought, and was about to ask him what he had planned in the let's-mess-up-Tessa's-life scenario, when someone called out.

  "Hey boss, you're needed on the site!"

  Chase twisted, nodding to a man dressed in work clothes, a tool belt slung over his shoulder, a cellular phone in his hand.

  Chase looked back at Tessa, loving her wide, puzzled eyes. He had her flustered nicely, he thought, and let impulse take him. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her flush against him. His child kicked, as if joining its mother's effort as she pushed at his chest.

  "Let go." She glanced around nervously, then looked at him, embarrassment blooming in her face.

  He bent, inhaling the scent of cinnamon near her ear, and whispered, "I can't. I've never walked away from a challenge." His words burned her skin, sending gooseflesh down her throat to her breasts. "And baby or not, Tessa Lightfoot—" Her fingers flexed on his chest and she closed her eyes. "It's you I want."

  Even though she would never believe him, his words sank into her heart like tiny arrows, weakening her resolve. She pushed at his chest. "No, Chase, you can't," she whispered back, then gasped as his lips ground against her neck in a hot, quick kiss before he pulled away.

  They stared at each other for an instant and Tessa touched her throat, feeling warm and tingly all over. That was … was … delicious.

  He smiled slowly, privately. Then he left her standing in the middle of the aisle between the cabbages and kumquats. Gripping the cart, Tessa watched him, his broad back, his indecently tight behind. Her heart pounding in her throat, her body awake and alive with sweet, quick passion. It had been so long she almost didn't recognize the sensation. Not that it had ever been like that. And she wondered, hoped, she had at least some effect on him.

  When he met up with his crewman and back-stepped to look at her, Tessa's gaze dropped briefly to the well-worn mold of his jeans. She smiled, smug as realization played across his face. His skin darkened, his express
ion sheepish as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

  She wasn't without a little power.

  And it made them even.

  Later that evening, Carole Anne Madison shifted to the edge of the Queen Anne tapestry settee, her hands poised on her lap as she stared up at her eldest son. Chase saw her gaze flick to his father, the pipe clenched in his teeth. Idly, Chase wondered if it was lit this time.

  "She's a lovely woman, Chase."

  "You saw her!" Chase's wide eyes narrowed suddenly. "She didn't know it was you, did she? God, Mom, if she thinks we're all ganging up on her, she might leave town!" He paced, wearing a path in the carpet. The last thing he wanted was to scare Tessa.

  "Chase dearest, please."

  "You're mother isn't an imbecile, Chase, don't treat her like one."

  "Carl, hush. He's just concerned, as we all are." She patted the space beside her, and Chase paced a bit more, then sank down beside her, rubbing his hand over his face.

  "I like her, Chase. She's poised, gracious. One can tell a great deal about a person when you're in their territory."

  Though those were not the traits Tessa had shown him, Chase took his mother's word for it. "And you discovered?"

  Carole Anne looked thoughtful before she spoke. "She makes everyone feel welcome, instantly. Even offered tea and joined me to have it. She's very honest about her designs and whom they suit." His mother paused, her eyes unusually bright. "And your baby's growing beautifully." Chase enjoyed the happiness spreading across his mother's face.

  His father cleared his throat. "It's just like you to do everything backwards, boy."

  Chase stiffened and left his chair in a lurch, wondering if his father would ever forgive him for not becoming a politician. As usual, his mother defended him with a sharp glare at his dad.

  "Do you think Janis did this thing with the computer mix-up?" his mother asked.

  Chase shrugged. "I wouldn't put it past her." He didn't want to address his suspicions, not when Tessa could use them to keep him out of his child's life. Things were just too fragile right now. "But then we all know how she hated being excommunicated from the Madison clan." The divorce settlement had nearly made Chase broke, and he eyed his father, all too aware that the man had never liked Janis, thought she was a gold digger, and had let him know it on a regular basis. Yet Chase had understood her need to feel part of a family. Of course, only Senator Madison's family would do. His dad thought Janis had married him because of who his father was, and finally, Chase had been inclined to believe it.

 

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