His Best Friend's Baby by Molly O'Keefe Page A

don’t think I can do this .
    “Are you okay?”
    Julia whirled toward the voice to find a pretty teenager, her blond hair scraped away from her thin face, standing there with a world of sympathy in her eyes.
    “We’re okay, thanks,” she lied with a smile and tried to lift the stroller so it wouldn’t drag, but she accidentally rubbed Ben’s scrape and he lost it right in her ear.
    “Here, come on,” the stranger said. “Let me help you get this—”
    She tried to take the stroller from Julia, but just as she grabbed it the right front wheel, already cockeyed, fell off and bounced down the street.
    She and the girl watched it go and finally, Julia realized there was nothing left to do but laugh.
    At first it was only a weary chuckle. Butwhen the teenager joined in and then Ben, they all laughed until things didn’t seem so bad.
    “Are you okay?”
    He was behind her.
    Her lungs went tight and face got hot. She could smell him—sun and sweat and something else, something dark and moody that crept into her head and made it swim. Jesse’s gravelly voice scraped down her spine into her belly.
    “We’re fine,” she said, pleased her voice didn’t tremble or waver or give away any of her discomfort. She turned to face him, but she couldn’t look at him, and she guessed that gave away everything her steady voice did not.
    “I’m Amanda,” the girl said into the thick hot silence that surrounded Jesse and Julia. “Do you want to come over and clean up a little?”
    “That’d be great,” Julia answered quickly, trying to pretend the side of her neck, where she could feel him staring, wasn’t on fire. “Do you live—”
    “Uncle Jesse?” Amanda asked, her voice and eyes held a note of steel and accusation. “Would that be all right?”
    “Oh, don’t worry. We can make it home.” Julia quickly backpedaled. She’d rather dealwith Agnes than her own fiery reaction to Jesse’s icy dismissal. “We’re only a few houses down.”
    “It’s not a problem,” Jesse said, and finally she had to look at him. Thank God he was wearing a shirt. But the faded black T-shirt was threadbare, damp with sweat and clung to his chest and arms in a far more provocative way than the sunshine and air had.
    “Do you two, like, know each other?” Amanda asked, her eager eyes darting between them.
    “No,” she said, just as Jesse said, “Yeah.”
    “Whoa. Cool,” Amanda said, but Julia was barely listening.
    “No, really, I’d much rather—”
    “Deal with Agnes?” he interjected and Julia’s gaze flew to his. “I doubt that.”
    “She’s been great to us,” she said, feeling stiff and prickly even though he’d somehow read her mind.
    “I’m sure she has. You can use my bathroom or not. Your choice.” His black eyes seemed to understand that she dreaded going back to that house with a crying baby and a broken stroller. She couldn’t take any more of those sideways looks and barbed words that accused her of not being the best mother to her son.
    Jesse’s eyes seemed to see right through to her worry that the Agnes was right. Good mothers didn’t drag their sons all around the world in a broken stroller looking for jobs they weren’t qualified for.
    “Thanks,” she murmured.
    He turned and walked away.
    “Come on,” Amanda said, “he’s a jerk but he’s harmless.”
    “Maybe to you,” Julia muttered. She felt in dire peril every time she was near him.
    “I’ll grab this and we’ll see if Uncle Jesse can get his head out of his butt long enough to fix it.” Amanda grabbed the stroller and headed toward the house.
    Julia knew she had every chance to decide otherwise, to take her chances with the devil she knew at the Adamses rather than the one that lurked in Jesse’s eyes, but she picked up the stroller wheel and followed Amanda anyway.
       
    “I DON’T HAVE ANY BANDAGES . Just soap and water,” Jesse told them as soon as they walked in. He had braced himself in the far corner of