“I don’t forget to eat.” Actually, she had forgotten to eat…more than once in the past month.
“I’m sorry I have to run off. I’d rather we spend the day together and talk about us.”
She bit into the dry toast to hide her expression. What could she say to hold him off on pushing “us” right then?
“You know, Dean. It might be good for us to think about the us part before we talk about it. I wasn’t exactly expecting this.”
He sat beside her, his face blank. “You don’t look like a woman filled with remorse.”
“That’s because I’m not.” She didn’t want to lead him on or shove him away. Patrick was due to call her over the weekend to update the baby status. If Katie could hold off Dean until Savannah was out of the closet…
“I’m not either.”
“I need to think. And I can’t do that with you by my side.”
“All right. I can accept that.”
Good. One hurdle down.
“There’s just one thing I want you to do when you’re thinking,” he said.
“Oh, yeah…what’s that?”
He took her lips with his and tilted her head back. The taste of coffee and jam laced his tongue as it took its sweet time playing with hers. Katie’s eyes fluttered closed and thoughts of thinking drifted away.
Their slow morning kiss ended too soon. “Think of that.”
Dean sure knew how to stack the cards in his favor. It would be impossible to close her eyes and not think of him.
“Go to work, cowboy.”
He winked, kissed her forehead, and sauntered to the door. Yep, he’d certainly developed a certain swagger since the last time he’d shared her bed.
She liked it.
“Have a beautiful day, darlin’.”
Katie kissed her finger and waved in his direction. “’Bye.”
She took her time finishing her coffee and eating her toast.
And she thought.
Denying her attraction, her emotions, when it came to Dean felt like a waste of energy. She didn’t have a deep reserve of energy.
She’d walked away from him, and everything he wanted in life when she found out she couldn’t have children. Yet here she was with a child counting on her every single day.
No. There had to be a better reason to stay away from Dean than a dysfunctional…no, the doctor had called it an inhospitable uterus.
There was always the question if Dean could accept Savannah and what he would do when he found out about her.
“I’ll have to think about everything later,” she told herself.
After a quick shower and packing a small bag with fresh clothes, Katie made her way out of the hotel. She stopped at the reception desk. Naomi had a younger woman beside her watching every move she made.
“Hi, Naomi.”
“Miss Morrison, hello. Have you met Tammy? She’s new with us.”
Katie put on her most congenial smile. Most new employees tripped over themselves when they found out she was a Morrison. Katie always did her best to be as unassuming as possible. “Hi, Tammy. How are you liking it here?”
“I love it. Thanks for asking.”
“Good, good. Listen, Naomi, I need you to be alert to any phone calls coming in for me.”
Naomi picked up a pen and waited for Katie to continue.
“If Patrick Nelson or a Ben Sanderson call, have them call my cell. Oh, and Dean Prescott.”
“I can do that.”
“Good.”
“Tell housekeeping I left my laundry in the bedroom closet and be sure and send the red dress to the dry cleaners.”
“Will we expect you this evening?”
Katie glanced at the time on the clock behind the desk. “No. I will check in tomorrow.”
“Very good. Have a nice day, Miss Morrison.”
“You, too, Naomi. Nice meeting you, Tammy.”
The women said good-bye and Katie left the hotel with a smile on her face. Between the amazing sex and a good night’s sleep, she couldn’t wait to spend the day playing with Savannah. She missed her daughter.
Chapter Sixteen
He sent flowers. Two dozen long-stem pink roses. Roses that would match the frilly bra and panties Katie had worn last night.
Flowers had been off limits before…when they’d met in secret.
Not this time.
Dean wasn’t going to hide…this time.
He smiled after getting off the phone with the florist. Dean escaped into the mess of his day but didn’t mind any of it. The temporary power pole had gone down and sparked a small fire. Luckily, he had a security guard on site at night who had managed to take down the flames with a fire extinguisher. The power company and the fire department then needed to repair and sign off on the broken pole, which took the whole morning.
One full pallet of roofing material escaped its binding and blew all over the site. Dirt covered every surface. Even three of the Porta-potties had tipped over. Now that was a mess. Two windows, one standard and one bay, broke when some kind of debris flew through them.
He called in a couple of guys and lent a hand securing the material that might be a problem again overnight. The forecast of Santa Ana winds and red flag warnings wasn’t going to be lifted until early Monday morning. Outside of the immediate issues, Dean saw no need to fix everything until after the wind stopped. He called the portable john guys and asked them to come by and upright the toilets.
Feeling gritty from working in the dust-coated wind all day, Dean made his way home while singing along with the radio. Damn he felt good.
At home he checked his messages and heard only the men from the job site when they’d attempted to get a hold of him that morning. Nothing from Katie.
Did she like the flowers?
Of course she did. She might not admit it, but she’d enjoy them anyway.
Don’t most women call and thank a man for flowers after they arrive?
Then again, she wanted time to think. Thinking didn’t include talking to him about flowers sent just hours after he left.
Dean took a long, hot shower and scrubbed the dirt from his hair. Hair that needed some quality time with a pair of scissors. After his shower, he made himself a simple sandwich and chased it with a beer.
It was nearly seven.
He needed to see her. He wouldn’t stay long. Just long enough to know that she wasn’t sitting in a pile of regret after last night.
He shoved into his cowboy boots and found a hat. On the weekends, he tried to capture his Texan side, a side Katie liked and he would exploit at every turn.
The ride to The Morrison was short despite the wind blowing sand across the roads like blizzards blow snow.
Determined strides took him through the doors and to the elevators. He didn’t have a key to the penthouse level so he turned toward the stairs. Then he stopped.
No. He’d used the back way up in the past. Thinking of that left a bad taste in his mouth.
Behind the reception desk stood a girl no older than twenty-two. She smiled easily and asked to help him.
Dean looked at her name tag and used it. “Hi, Tammy. Would you be kind enough to let Miss Morrison know that I’m on my way up?”
Tammy’s eyes grew wide. “Miss Morrison…right…” She flipped through some papers on the desk. “Ah, are you Patrick Nelson?”
Dean felt his happy disposition slip. Who the hell is he? “No.”
Tammy’s smile started to fade.
“Ben Sanderson?”
The old guy? What the hell? “No!”
“Oh, um, Dean Prescott?”
Finally, his name made the short list. “Bingo.”
Tammy grinned, entirely pleased she’d gotten the name right. “Oh, good.”
Dean turned toward the elevators with his fists gripped at his sides. What in the depths of hell was Katie doing?
“Mr. Prescott,” Tammy called behind him.
He turned and barked at the girl. “Wha
t?”
“Um, Miss Morrison isn’t here. She asked if you or any of the others called, to have you call her cell phone.”
He glared at the elevators. Not home? That explains the lack of phone call about the flowers. Hard to say thank you if you haven’t seen them yet.
“Did she say when she’d be back?”
“Tomorrow…I think. Yeah, tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” So where the hell was she sleeping tonight? And with whom?
“Savannah’s sleeping and you’ve had a glass of wine. I’ll go.” Katie moved about the apartment and found her purse. “I’ll swing by the grocery store and pick up more formula before getting our dinner. Do we need anything else?”
Monica reclined on the couch as Katie shuffled around the room. It was nice having someone there to run simple errands. It didn’t suck that Katie was used to eating out so she ordered takeout half the week. It’s a little thing I can do for you letting Savannah and I stay here. Katie had insisted and Monica wasn’t about to refuse. “Might as well get diapers. And get a bigger size. Savannah’s growing out of those tiny ones.”
Katie paused for a moment and a smile slid over her lips. “She’s getting big.”
Monica made a swishing motion with her hands. “Go. Before she wakes up.”
“Right.” Katie shuffled out of the apartment while Monica continued to drink her wine. Even though Jessie and Katelyn were actually sisters-in-law, Monica found the joy in a sister by marriage. There was a huge bonus that they both held very little regard for their mothers—one for having left and the other for staying, yet not really being there for Monica and Jessie. Monica could see how hard Katie was trying to make things right for Savannah, and much of that stemmed from a lack of a mother in Katie’s life.
Monica turned the channel to the opening credits for the popular reality show that spun new musical talent. Twenty minutes into the show, a loud knock jarred her from the TV.
She surged off the couch. “Keep it down,” she called out. The thought of putting a note on the door about a baby sleeping crossed her mind.
The knock came again, this time louder.
“I’m coming.” She grabbed the door and swung it open. “What’s the big…Dean?”
Dean’s gaze soared over her, his brows pitched together with barely contained fury. His eyes sparked and not in a good way.
“Where’s Katelyn?”
“Excuse me?”
He pushed his way into the apartment, did a quick once-over and turned to her again. “Katelyn? Where is she?”
“W-what?” Monica felt a nest of lies start to form on her tongue and wondered just how much she should say. Did he know Katie was staying with her? Had he seen her leave?
“C’mon, Monica, you two have been thick ever since Jack and Jessie hooked up. You know what’s going on with her and we need to talk.” His voice rose, crackling the air with tension.
Monica glanced beyond him toward Katie and Savannah’s room. Dean was going to wake the baby with all his yelling. “She’s not here.”
“But you know where she is, damn it, and you’re going to tell me.”
Monica thrust her hands on her hips and straightened her shoulders. “The big macho Tell me now or else routine isn’t going to work with me, Dean. You can take your alpha self and march the hell out of here.”
The wind left Dean’s sails with her words. His shoulders slumped and he lowered his gaze. “Sorry, Monica. I didn’t mean to come off like that. It’s just…” He glanced up and turned away from her. “It’s Katie. I’ve been trying to get a hold of her…” His words trailed off as he looked around the room.
An infant swing sat in the corner. A forgotten pacifier and baby rattle cluttered the kitchen counter.
Monica rushed in front of him and made him focus on her. “Katie’s not here. You might try her cell phone.” She laid a hand on his arm and tried to push him out of the apartment.
“Tried that.” He easily dodged her hand and picked up a baby bottle. “Have a kid when no one was looking?”
“I babysit sometimes.” Not a lie.
“Don’t nurses make decent money?”
“Yeah.”
“So you babysit for charity?” Doubt laced his gaze and he moved deeper into the room and made an audible sniff.
“Kinda.” She knew if Dean searched hard, he’d find evidence of Katelyn. In fact, a pair of stilettos that defined Katie were carelessly tossed under the coffee table. “You can see that Katie isn’t here so you should look for her somewhere else.”
Dean’s eyes settled on her and she felt the need to fidget. “Why the hurry, Monica?”
“I’m watching my favorite show and you’re becoming a pain in my ass. If I wanted company, I’d have invited you over.”
“Right.” Dean sniffed the air again.
“You sound like a dog. Do you have a cold or something?”
Dean grinned. “Do you know who Tom Ford is?”
Where the hell did that question come from. “Tom who?”
“The designer.”
“Why would I know that?”
“He’s a fashion designer who created a very unique perfume.”
Monica squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “I’m not sure what perfume has to do with you sniffing around my apartment like a bloodhound.”
Dean smelled the air again and moved toward the hall, closer to where Savannah was sleeping.
Monica’s heart thudded in her chest. It was as if a house of cards were standing in the direct path of a cat’s swishing tail and she couldn’t get to the cat before it knocked the cards over. She scrambled in front of him again, blocking his path to the hall. “I’ll call Katie myself. Tell her you’re looking for her.”
“Black Orchid. I’d know the scent anywhere.” He was rambling about perfume and moving around her.
She pushed in front of him again.
He smiled, placed his hands on her shoulders, and moved her to the side. “It’s Katie’s perfume. I know because I’ve bought it for her before.” Dean lifted his finger and waved it once in front of her face. “Stay!”
She did. She didn’t mean to, but she couldn’t stop watching the slow-motion action of him opening the door to Katie’s room.
She heard him draw in a breath and let it out slowly.
A hundred lies formed. I’m babysitting for a friend. I have a roommate that wears Katie’s perfume.
Dean sauntered into the bedroom and peeked into the small bassinet.
His gaze shifted from Savannah who was just opening her eyes to the interior of Katie’s room. The closet space was limited and Katie’s clothes hung on hooks and on the curtain rod. A mountain of shoes took up one corner and another was filled with baby essentials.
“Oh, God!” Katie shrieked behind Monica.
Monica turned to stare at the panicked face of her friend. “I tried to make him leave.”
The only sound in the room was that of the breath escaping the occupants.
A storm brewed under the surface of Katie’s skin. She met Dean’s confused stare and held still.
Her game was up. No explanation large enough would keep him from knowing that she was living with Monica. And why.
No one spoke. No one moved.
Savannah let out a wail and all three of them turned to her.
Katie shoved past Monica and had to step over Dean’s foot to get to the baby.
“It’s OK, baby girl. I’m here,” she cooed. The instant Savannah was in her arms she quieted. Katie flung a burp cloth over her shoulder and positioned Savannah so she was looking over her shoulder.
Savannah hiccupped a few times and Katie rocked. “Shh, it’s OK.” Gathering her courage, Katie turned toward Dean and met his stare.
They said nothing.
“I think I should go.” Monica finally spoke. “Unless you want me to stay, Katie.”
“No. It’s OK. I’m OK.”
Monica sent her a sympathetic smile before turni
ng to Dean. “You behave.” She wiggled a finger in front of his face as he had done hers.
Monica slipped from the room and out of the apartment.
Katie moved around the room and prepared to change Savannah’s soiled diaper. Dean had backed up to the doorway and watched in complete silence.
Several weeks of practice granted her speed and agility with the task. Within a couple of minutes, Katie had Savannah back in her arms, before she walked past Dean and into the living room. Katie folded Savannah into the swing and turned the knob. Savannah attempted a smile and contently enjoyed the rocking motion.
Without explanation, she washed her hands in the sink and moved to prepare a bottle. Just because Savannah wasn’t screaming for it, didn’t mean she wouldn’t ask soon if it was delayed for long. The domestic chores and silence gave Katie a little time to think. Her heart had finally slowed to a normal pace and the situation felt less dire.
“She’s yours, isn’t she?” Dean asked.
“Yes. No. Well, not quite mine.” That had to be the most screwed-up answer to a question ever.
“Which is it?” Dean’s question was soft.
Katie placed a plastic liner into a bottle and filled it with formula. A pot was already on the stove to boil so she turned it on. “Legally she’s mine. At least as far as we can tell.”
“I don’t understand. How can you not know?”
“It’s complicated, Dean.”
Dean turned toward the living room and watched Savannah on the swing. “She’s grown. It’s Savannah, right?”
“Yeah.”
Dean removed his cowboy hat and tossed it on table. It was his way of saying he wasn’t leaving any time soon. “I could use a beer.”
Katie opened the refrigerator and handed him one.
He finished half of it in one swallow. His shoulders slumped and he blew out a long-suffering sigh. “She’s why you’ve been so worn out, why you’re not at the hotel?”
“Yeah. Monica let us stay here until we work things out. I couldn’t exactly parade an infant around without everyone knowing about her. Daddy would blow a gasket and Jack…I don’t even know what Jack would do.”
Not Quite Mine (Not Quite series) Page 15