An Unlikely Daddy by Rachel Lee Page A

way. Let’s just leave it, okay?”
    He started to pass her, but her voice stopped him.
    â€œYou don’t have a home?”
    He hesitated. “Depends on what you mean by that.”
    â€œOh, for the love of...” She broke off. Then, almost a command, she said, “Follow me home.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause I want to talk.”
    â€œYou’ve got plenty of friends.”
    She drew a breath. “But they’re not you.” Without another word, she walked around a car and climbed in behind the wheel.
    â€œShould you be driving?” he called after her.
    â€œWho else will do it for me?” She revved the engine and drove away, leaving him somewhere near hell’s door as he wondered if he should follow her or ignore her. He certainly hadn’t come here to make her life harder.
    But his feet seemed to have a mind of their own and carried him toward Marisa’s place. He guessed they were going to have it out. Maybe then he’d be free to leave.
    She opened the door to him, and he stepped in from the cold. Odd how symbolic that suddenly seemed. “I made you coffee. I need to get my feet up.”
    â€œSomething wrong?”
    â€œPregnancy. Nothing’s wrong.”
    â€œYou want coffee, too?”
    â€œSure, why not?”
    Hardly inviting, but she’d seldom been inviting toward him. He was like a mess she didn’t know how to clean up. He got it. He just wished he could explain what kept him stapled here when he was clearly so unwanted.
    He brought coffee into the living room and found her in the rocker with her feet up on the hassock. “Badly swollen?” he asked, trying to be polite.
    â€œIt’s becoming more common, but the doc isn’t too worried. Just spend a little less time on my feet and put them up when I can.”
    Well, that was more than she’d been sharing since their first meeting. Was that good or bad? “So, what’s been keeping you on your feet?”
    She surprised him then, laughing softly. “Nesting.”
    â€œNesting?”
    â€œI was warned this would happen toward the end of my term. Cleaning binge. Getting everything ready.”
    â€œThe crib is sorted out?” He’d managed to put those brackets in for her in the midst of handling the staircase.
    â€œGo look,” she said, waving her hand.
    So he did. The crib was at the foot of her bed, a mattress in place, the bedding all made up, pads around the entire thing for protection, he supposed. He had to do a lot of guessing when it came to babies. He’d learned some things after his sister was born, but a ten-year-old boy didn’t pay attention to many of the details. A mobile hung from the ceiling, and he imagined one of her friends had done that for her. Soft cartoon characters hung from it. The top of her dresser looked ready to be a changing table.
    He returned to the living room feeling odd in some way. Preparation for a new life. Never had he felt more out in the cold. He perched on the edge of the couch, alert, ready to leave as quickly as necessary. Hell, he lived most of his life that way.
    â€œSo you don’t have a home?” she said.
    â€œNot really. I’m gone too much.”
    She nodded. “Johnny was, too.” Then she surprised him. “I’ve been rude to you.”
    â€œNo—”
    â€œYes,” she interrupted. “Rude. You were Johnny’s friend. Apparently, a good enough friend to come to the back of beyond to check on his wife. I’ve treated you exactly like that gum on my shoe.”
    â€œIt’s okay.”
    â€œNo,” she said hotly, “it’s not okay. You were my husband’s friend, one of the best he had, and I’ve treated you poorly. I didn’t want you here.”
    There, she’d said it. He edged forward, ready to leave.
    â€œBut the thing is,” she continued, “I didn’t want you here for reasons that