by Susan Gable
Harley had a sudden vision of the handsome architect standing on the front porch, a beautiful child in his arms, a warm smile on his face—a smile directed at her as he welcomed her home.
Home. There'd been no real home for Harley since she'd lost her dad.
What are you doing, stupid? she chastised herself. He's out of your league, remember? You're not good enough for him. He's interested in you for one reason and one reason only—and that's your ability to give him what he wants. A baby. Get real! There are no white knights, no nice guys, only pretty words and empty promises.
Her stomach rumbled again, reminding her exactly what reality meant. It meant being cold and hungry and lonely. It meant being a nothing.
It meant getting her damn butt out of the truck, crossing the tidy lawn to the house, and seeing what she could do about making her own dreams come true.
* * *
Jake grinned down at the baby in his arms. Matthew Jacob Manning, his new nephew, named after Dusty's father—and Jake. "He's a cute kid, Dust."
His brother beamed at him from the love seat on the far side of the room. "You think he looks like me?"
"Nope, he's all Kate. That's what I said. A cute kid." At Jake's side, Kate chuckled.
"Guess he told you, brother," Melanie said, laughing and giving Dusty a pat on the arm. Dusty mock-scowled at the room in general as the rest of the family—Melanie's husband, Peter, and their twin daughters—joined in the laughter. The little girls had no clue what the fuss was all about, but if everyone else was laughing, they'd add their shrieks of joy, too.
The dogs jumped to their feet, barking and staring up at the picture window that looked out onto the screened front porch. Jake followed their lead, glancing at the window, discovering a pair of emerald-green eyes, wide with fright, staring back at him.
He handed the baby to Kate. "Here, take him. I'll be right back."
Dusty was already opening the front door. The dogs bounded past him, onto the porch.
A scream of unholy terror sliced through the air, followed by the sound of the screen door banging shut.
Jake slid into his loafers in the foyer. "I'll handle this, Dusty," he said, rushing after his ill-behaved pets. The second slam of the screen door informed him that Pepper and Benji were now on the loose in the neighborhood and hot in pursuit of the woman for whom he'd spent the past week searching.
The drizzling rain turned the front lawn into a series of squishy patches, some muddier than others. The dogs danced around a still form on the grass. Jake pulled up short, muttering curses under his breath.
"Pepper, Benji, sit. Back off, you guys."
He grabbed the Labrador by the collar and hauled him away from Harley, who lay in the grass curled into a ball with her hands over her face. "Harley, it's okay. They won't hurt you."
He crouched and ran his palms over her back, surprised at the way she was trembling.
Her hands muffled her response. "Hell, yes they will. That big dog wants to eat me and the little one is hoping for leftovers."
Jake bit down on his tongue to stifle his laughter. The last thing he wanted to do at the moment was alienate her. "Get up. I'll protect you from them." He straightened.
She lowered her hands cautiously, then peeked around him. When Pepper woofed an enthusiastic greeting for this newfound playmate, she jumped to her feet and threw herself into Jake's arms. "Don't let it bite me."
"They don't bite." Mud ran down her face, and water dripped off the tip of her nose. She smelled of the outdoors, a wild, uninhibited aroma of rain mingled with woodsmoke. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and with the other, brushed a strand of hair off her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. Even in such a sorry state, she was beautiful.
The dogs cavorted around them. Harley muffled a shriek and pressed her body so tightly against his, a sheet of graph paper couldn't have come between them. Jake lost himself in the heavenly sensation.
"Everything okay out there, Jake?"
He turned his head to see Dusty on the porch steps, umbrella held over his head, ready to dash out to his big brother's rescue. His sister was also watching the scene from her vantage point behind Dusty. "Fine. Open the garage door, will you?"
"No problem." Dusty disappeared into the house.
Jake waved a hand at Melanie, shooing her back inside, as well. "All right, Harley, let me introduce you to the dogs." He reluctantly released her from the embrace. "Sit, boys."
She turned to face the dogs, but hovered close to him.
"The black dog is Pepper, and the little one is Benji."
"Great, wonderful, pleasure to meet you," she muttered. When Benji lifted a paw, she backed into Jake's chest. "What happened to his ear? Did the big dog eat that, too?"
"No. Benji lost a fight with a coyote before he came to live with me. Look, he wants to shake your hand."
"Too bad. That big one's too close."
The automatic garage door rumbled to life, and the dogs took off like a shot in that direction. Harley exhaled loudly and sagged against him.
"Come on, let's go inside." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and nudged her toward the back of the house.
"Do we have to go this way? Can't we go in the front door?"
"No, we're wet and muddy, so we're going through the back." Jake's loafers squished a soggy rhythm as they slogged up the driveway.
He guided her past the Mustang. The dogs waited at the bottom of the steps that led to the kitchen door. Just as Jake and Harley reached the car, Pepper leapt to his feet and shook himself, spraying water in every direction.
Harley ran the back of her hand over her face and glared at the dog. "Look what you did to his car!"
From the doorway, Dusty said dryly. "I can see your priorities are in order."
Melanie peered over Dusty's shoulder.
Jake looked pointedly at his siblings. "Don't you have something to see to in the living room? Like kids?"
"Uh, yeah."
They hurried into the house.
Jake turned his attention to the dogs. "Since you were both so eager to get out, you can just stay out until you dry off."
The wooden steps creaked beneath his tread. He pulled open the screen door, pausing to press the button for the overhead door. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Harley remained off to the side, as far away from the dogs as she could possibly get in the enclosed space. "Aren't you coming?"
She gestured at her clothes, then looked back up at him. "I thought maybe I had to stay out here until I dried off, too."
"Not this time."
* * *
Jake had changed into dry clothes, and his sister, brother-in-law and the twins were already gone when his brother dropped the duffel bag onto the gray-slated entryway floor. "Here." He frowned over Jake's shoulder. "Your new stray's clothes. How long you keepin' this one?"
Jake arched an eyebrow at Dusty. "How do you know she's a stray and that I plan on keeping her at all?"
Dusty ticked off the reasons on his fingers. "One, you've driven me nuts trying to find her for a week. I'm guessing the reason you haven't is that she's been living in the back of her truck." He raised another finger. "Two, I see the way you look at her, and can't say I blame you. She's easy on the eyes. Three, you're just a bighearted softie."
"Am not."
"Are too," Dusty insisted.
"If Kate kicks you out, I'm not taking you back in, so you'd better get her and that new baby home. Don't keep her waiting out in the car."
Dusty poked Jake in the chest with his index finger. "Watch your back, your wallet and your car. Not to mention your heart. I don't want to see you go trough another mess."
"You don't have to worry about me, little brother. I learn from my mistakes. Now, get going."
"Listen, you've been moping around since you lost Austin and that birth mother changed her mind. You're vulnerable right now, whether you know it or not, and—"
"Goodbye, Dusty. Give Kate a kiss for me." He s
hoved his brother out the door and slammed it, bending over to pick up the maroon duffel bag.
Moping? He wasn't moping. Real men didn't mope.
He was planning. Big difference.
Was Harley really living out of her truck? If so, it was his fault. He'd been the one to get her fired. How the hell could he make that up to her?
Deep in thought, he made his way to the bathroom and knocked on the door. "Harley?"
The hiss of running water conjured up images of her, erotic, exciting images. The realization that she stood naked in his shower, with his bar of soap gilding across her wet skin, caused an instinctive, hormonal reaction. He rested his forehead against the door. Dusty had been right: she was damn easy on the eyes.
Lifting his head and raising his fist again, he rapped harder. "Harley?" The water ceased abruptly. "I've got your stuff."
The shower curtain rings clinked against the rod, and he closed his eyes, fully able to envision the scene inside as she climbed from the tub. A moment later the bathroom door opened a crack and steam rushed into the hall.
"Thanks. And I appreciate the shower." Her hand snaked around the door.
The scent of her freshly washed skin rose to tantalize him. Damn, that soap never smelled as good on him. "No problem." He placed the handles in her palm, then curled her fingers around them. "Here you go. I'll be in the kitchen when you're through."
"Okay, I'll be right out."
"Take your time."
He wandered into the kitchen and occupied himself with the task of cleaning up from his family's dinner gathering, a celebration of his nephew's birth. Kate had been eager to get out of the house, but Dusty refused to take her and little Matthew anywhere public yet. The new daddy was too afraid the baby might catch something from strangers.
Not that Jake blamed him. He understood the fear of bad things happening to those you loved. He rinsed off some silverware and loaded it into the dishwasher. Dusty would lighten up as soon as he realized that babies were a lot hardier than people thought. Why, Jake's main concern when Dusty was small had been to keep him from eating dirt. The big brother chuckled at the memory.
"You know what they say about people who laugh to themselves, right?"
Her voice sent a shiver of delight down his spine. The woman really should've been a radio deejay, with a sultry voice like that. "No, what?"
"They're not firing on all cylinders." She leaned against the door frame and toweled off her hair.
Oh, boy. She wore that clinging pink T-shirt again, the one that accentuated the curves of her breasts. Jake let his gaze slide lower, taking in the form-fitting black jeans that hugged her hips. She was temptation personified, every man's fantasy. And she was standing barefoot in the entrance to his kitchen. He still couldn't quite believe his good fortune. He'd assumed he'd never see her again when his latest envelope was returned to him, stamped Undeliverable.
Her stomach rumbled, and her cheeks flushed as she lowered her hand to cover her midsection. "Sorry."
Jake smiled at her. Definitely a stray. They usually came to him hungry. "Can I get you something to eat?"
"Um, sure. That'd be great."
"Turkey sandwich? Tuna? Peanut butter and jelly?"
She shrugged. "Whatever. I like PB&J."
"Okay, peanut butter and jelly it is, then." He pulled the fixings from the cabinets and thumped them down on the counter. "So, Harley, what brings you here?"
"Actually, I … well, I…"
"Yes?"
"I wanted to talk to you about your proposition."
His heart rate increased. The knife in his hand trembled slightly as he spread grape jelly across the whole wheat bread. "Oh?"
"Yes. I've studied your daddy résumé, and I've been thinking about it."
"And?" He slapped one slice of bread over the other. Placing the sandwich on a paper plate, he turned to her.
"Well, I really need to know you a lot better to begin with. Résumés have been known to be padded." She twisted the end of the towel in her hands. "And I've got two conditions that are absolutely non-negotiable."
Jake swallowed hard and crossed the kitchen. "Okay, come and sit at the table and tell me what they are."
She followed him to the dining room, sinking into the chair he pulled out for her. Once he was seated, she nudged the sandwich, breaking off small pieces of the crust.
"Well?" he prompted.
"First, you marry me for the duration. You can divorce me later. I'll sign whatever prenuptial agreement you want, but I will not bring an illegitimate child into the world."
A little flash of pain flickered in her eyes; the set of her mouth indicated something more than she was saying.
"I'll consider it. The second term?"
"No artificial insemination. We make this baby the old-fashioned way."
He was grateful she'd waited until he was sitting down.
* * *
Chapter 4
«^»
Judging by his wide eyes and slack jaw, he hadn't expected that. Harley's fingers flicked the edge of the paper plate as she worked on devouring the sandwich.
"No," he finally said.
Trying not to choke, she washed a chunk of bread down with the orange juice he'd provided. "No? No what? No marriage? No standard conception? No baby?"
Now what?
"Are you living in the back of your pickup?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Everything." He eyed her plate and the remaining crust. "Are you finished?"
She nodded.
He pushed his chair backward. "Come with me."
He leaned over and grabbed her duffel bag from the floor, then rose with a fluid grace.
Harley shoved away from the table. "What are you doing with my stuff?" She scurried after him as he vanished down the hallway, past the bathroom and around the corner.
He flung open a door and strolled into the room.
She hesitated.
The far wall boasted an oak dresser with a long mirror. On either side, floral curtains flanked the windows; the last vestiges of twilight floated in. About two feet from the opposite wall stood a twin bed with a bookcase headboard; it was covered with a bedspread that matched the curtains. A border in the same pink-and-lilac floral pattern edged the room at ceiling height.
Harley's heart tried to crawl into her throat. At eight, she'd begged her father to paint her room this exact shade of purple. After two weeks of her pleading, he'd finally caved in, and they'd spent an entire Sunday—the only day the garage was closed—painting the room together. But this … this was even prettier.
Jake dropped her bag on the foot of the bed, then leaned against the dresser. "This was my sister's room. You can stay here until we find you another job and another place to live."
"We?" She raised her eyebrows.
"Yes, we. I'm not about to take advantage of your situation."
"I thought you wanted a baby?"
His face softened and a wistful light appeared in his eyes. "I do. Listen to how quiet it is here, Harley. My home needs the sound of a child's laugher to bring it to life again."
He pushed off from the dresser. "This isn't something we have to discuss tonight. I know some people around town. Tomorrow I'll make a few phone calls and see what I can do about helping you find a new job. Until then—" he gestured toward the bed "—make yourself at home."
"At home," she murmured with a small sigh.
He paused in the doorway beside her, so close the warmth from his body made her cheeks flush. The lingering scent of his spicy cologne hung in the air between them. How was it that he made her feel like a teenager in the throes of adolescent hormone-rush? His gaze settled on her mouth, and for a moment she feared he was going to kiss her—and at the same time she feared he wouldn't…
Kissing was not something she was supposed to be thinking about when it came to Jake Manning. Making a baby, yes; kissing, no. Kissing implied a relationship. They were just going
to have sex. Eventually. Maybe. Her flush deepened.
"Good night, Harley. I'll keep the dogs in my room, so you don't have to worry about them bothering you."
The dogs. How could she have forgotten? Easy. Out of sight, out of mind. "Your dogs don't have rabies, do they?"
His rich laughter flowed over her, then suddenly stopped. "You're not joking, are you?"
Her hand covered her stomach. "No."
"What happened to you?"
She couldn't resist the genuine concern in his eyes. "I was attacked by a dog when I was little. They never found it, so I had to have rabies shots."
"Ouch. From what I hear, that's pretty painful."
"It was." Besides pain, the strongest memory of the experience was her father's callused hands, smelling of soap and lingering grease as he comforted her.
"I'm sorry. But honestly, my dogs won't hurt you. And neither will I." He brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek.
Startled by the unexpected contact, she flinched. That's what they all say, she reminded herself. Pretty words and empty promises. Why did you tell him all that?
He shoved his hand into his pocket. "Like I said, make yourself at home."
He slipped away and headed down the hallway, back toward the dining room.
Harley closed the bedroom door and turned the old-fashioned lock.
She surveyed the room again. Hands down, it qualified as the most beautiful room in which she'd ever stayed. But make herself at home? She didn't have a clue what that meant. Should she do the dishes and sweep the floor? Chores had been a requirement in most of her foster homes.
A cold sweat broke across the back of her neck. The price for this lodging was going to be steep—although he hadn't pressed the baby issue, nor had he mentioned her "demands."
She decided to ignore her worries about the price. For tonight, I'm going to sleep in a nice, comfortable place. Tomorrow is soon enough to worry about tomorrow.
She stripped down to her T-shirt and panties, shoved the bed against the wall, then climbed in.
* * *
The sounds of wild laughter drifted through the open window and prodded Jake upward toward consciousness. He lifted his head and opened one eye to peer at the numbers on the clock. "Damn!" He bolted upright.