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

the kitchen between the two counters, like a hunted animal about to strike back.
    He took a swig of the beer he’d grabbed the moment he walked in—as if he needed further proof of how shaken he was, how weak and close to utter ruin.
    He rarely drank, but every time he did he felt as though he was his father.
    “Thank you, Jesse, we won’t take long,” Julia said, her eyes clinging to his for a moment too long.
    God, did she have to be so naked? Did she have to be so damn obvious in her feelings for him? It made the air so thick he couldn’t breathe.
    “Bathroom’s through there.” He pointed down the dark hallway.
    “Uncle Jesse, do you think you could fix this thing?” Amanda asked, swinging the stroller beside her as she walked in.
    “Sure.” He grabbed it midswing and she let go. She looked down the hallway to make sure Julia was out of earshot and then leaned toward him, her eyes wide and bright.
    “Wow,” Amanda said. “She’s so pretty. Do you think she’s married?’ Cause, she’s totally into you. So, you shouldn’t—”
    “Call your folks to come pick you up,” he told her. “I don’t need your help around here anymore.”
    His too-wise niece eyed him with skeptical disbelief, and he watched her right back until she finally looked away, clearly disappointed in him. He took a long swallow of the beer that slid down his throat like ice after a trip through the desert.
    “Fine,” she said, then grabbed her school bag from the kitchen table and dug out her cell phone. “I’ll tell them you’re mean and a jerk and—”
    Jesse walked out, cutting off her tirade with the slam of the screen door.
    He’d let that girl hang around and it had gotten into his head, made him forget who he was and what he was here to do. And now, thanks to her, he had Julia and her boy in his house, using his sink, his towels, filling the rooms with her smell.
    Things had gone too far.
    Well, he knew how to fix that.
    He headed to the garage and the tools he’d spent sleepless nights cleaning up. He rattled all the jam jars filled with screws until he found one that might work. He had to bend the metal crossbar to its original shape. Even with the new screw and a little grease, the stroller maybe had a week left.
    “Do you need this?”
    Julia stood in the doorway of the dark garage, sunlight streaming in around her, turning the dust in the air to glitter.
    “What?” Her beauty physically punched him.
    “The wheel.” She smiled, shy and careful like the beautiful woman/girl he remembered in Germany.
    He grabbed the beat-up wheel from her and bent over the stroller.
    “Thank you for doing this.” She stepped closer and Jesse fought the urge to step away, to keep the distance between them tolerable.
    “It’s not going to do much good. This is a piece of crap.”
    He saw her shrug from the corner of his eye. “Well, it’s all the crap I’ve got at the moment.”
    “Where is the boy?” he asked, glancing around her feet for the boy with Mitch’s hair.
    “Amanda and Wain are playing with him.” She fiddled with the clamp attached to the old workbench. “She seems like a very nice girl.”
    Jesse searched through the jar at his elbow for a screw that would work with the wheel.
    Cheap plastic things. What was she thinking hauling her baby around in this?
    “You never mentioned a niece that night in Germany,” she said in the way of a woman who wanted to play with fire. He didn’t answer her.
    He twisted the screw in and spun the wheel once. It wobbled, but it worked.
    “I don’t understand you, Jesse. This isn’t what you were like in Germany.” She reached out a hand to his shoulder and he dodged it. He ignored the foolish bravery and determination she seemed compelled to display and concentrated on chasing her out of his life.
    “Well, it’s what I’m like now.”
    “Is it because of Mitch? I’m not married anymore,” she finally whispered, like some sort of invitation to his worst