To Be a Dad (Harlequin Superromance) by Kate Kelly

her up. Once she realized their concern, she’d made a concentrated effort to gain a few pounds because she didn’t want to worry anyone. She didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but Teressa was an excellent cook, and the cake was sure to taste delicious.
    “Have you been up to Dusty’s house lately?” Sylvie asked quietly.
    “Yesterday. He wanted to know which bathroom fixtures looked best.”
    Sylvie dropped her brush into a jar of water. “What did Teressa think?”
    “I’m not sure. Dusty said she didn’t care one way or the other. He seemed confused,” she added.
    Sylvie gave her a tight smile. “I think we have to do an intervention with Teressa. She should be making more decisions about the house. I thought she’d love doing that, you know?”
    “Who’d love doing what?” Teressa asked, emerging from the kitchen with a loaded tray.
    Anita edged back from the table. All she’d wanted to do was drop off some paint chips and spend a few minutes chatting about inconsequential things, like the weather. That was the problem with stepping outside her comfort zone—things came up she wasn’t prepared to deal with. But she wanted these two women to be her friends, and if that meant extending herself beyond her normal, polite boundaries, so be it.
    She fixed a smile on her face. “We thought you’d love picking out colors for the house.”
    Sylvie shoved the file of paint chips in front of Teressa. “What color do you want for the kitchen?”
    Teressa ignored the file as she placed a full dessert plate in front of each of them. “I haven’t thought about it.”
    “Well, think about it now.” Sylvie flipped the file folder open.
    Without looking at it, Teressa turned to Anita. “What do you think?”
    “Umm....” She stabbed a small piece of cake with her fork and ate it. “The cake’s delicious.”
    “I meant what color do you think we should paint the kitchen?”
    “Good dodge, Anita.” Sylvie glared at Teressa. “It’s your kitchen, not hers. What color do you want?”
    Anita put down her fork as Teressa got a mutinous look on her face. Maybe she should leave. She’d never been good at handling conflict. She pushed back from the table.
    Sylvie narrowed her eyes at her. “Don’t even think about it. If you leave me alone with her, I might have to kill her, and it’ll be on your head.”
    Anita opened her mouth to make a polite protest, but giggled instead. Giggling, according to her father, was an unforgivable social gaffe that rivaled farting or burping. Both women stared at her before they started giggling at the same time. Pleased, Anita grinned and had another bite of cake.
    Teressa pulled the file in front of her and flipped through several pages before stopping at the golds and yellows. “What do you think of this color?” She pointed at a dark gold.
    Anita tried not to grimace. She glanced at Sylvie for the go-ahead to offer her opinion. “Gold is a lovely idea for the living room. What about this one?” She pointed to a much lighter tone.
    Teressa smirked. “I was thinking of the kitchen, but okay.”
    “I’m so sorry,” Anita apologized.
    “She’s yanking your chain.” Sylvie laughed.
    She’d suspected as much, although understanding people’s sense of humor had never been her strong suit. When she wasn’t certain she was reading the situation clearly, she defaulted to her polite mode.
    Cal hated it when she did that and often pushed her to speak her mind. It was the exact opposite of what she’d been taught, which was to listen carefully and give the person what you thought they wanted to hear. Speak your own mind? That took a boldness and certainty she’d yet to cultivate, but she was willing to try.
    “Dusty said something about oak doors for the kitchen cabinets,” Sylvie continued. “Gold or yellow would be too close to the same color. You have to pick something that contrasts. Right, Anita?”
    “Since when did you become the expert?” Teressa flipped