Chapter Seven

Hayden waited until Alex finished straightening the quilt on the bed before placing her bags on top. His attraction to Alex had tripled in the last hour they had spent in this godforsaken dive. Sure, he’d been attracted to her from the first night he met her, but now he was more than attracted. He was very, very interested in her. She had demonstrated a few cracks in the massive wall she’d constructed around herself.

Of course, the attraction part hadn’t diminished, because he found himself checking her out and appreciating everything he saw…constantly. He knew she had to be somewhat self-conscious because he’d caught her making jokes about her weight a few times. And he didn’t really know what she was talking about. Sure, she wasn’t what he’d describe as skinny. She was what he’d describe as hot.

It shouldn’t matter to him, of course, because she was only supposed to be the mother of his supposed kid. So the fact that she had a temptingly curvy body should not matter. Nor should he be thinking how great her ass looked in her dark jeans. Or the breasts that he knew, based on his own God-given talent, would spill out of his hands. Of course, the only reason he was even checking her out was because she seemed completely unaware of her…assets. She was wearing a T-shirt with a V because both of their top layers had been wet from the snow. When she’d removed her boring sweater, he’d be blind not to notice.

“I think I need to ask Igor if he has any alcohol for the guests,” he said, forcing himself to look away. He was acting like a sixteen year old.

“I’m not drinking anything that man gives us.” Her hands were perched on her hips, and her shirt was spread tight across her breasts. She snapped her fingers and shooed him away from the bags. “You are in luck. Matt was on my shopping list. Matt loves good beer. I went to this micro-brewery today to pick these up.” She pulled out a six-pack.

“It’s a Christmas miracle,” he said, smiling as she laughed. Alex had a laugh that could warm him faster than any alcohol. Her whole face lit up and it had almost a musical note to it. What the hell was wrong with him?

He forced himself to look at the bags again. “What else do you have in there?”

She gave him an adorable, secret type of smile and then proceeded to pull out a parade of gifts. Toys, scarves, books, and then finally a bag of popcorn, tortilla chips, salsa, and a box of chocolates. “So you had me walking through a blizzard with a six-pack of beer and the entire contents of a department store?”

She thrust the bag of popcorn at him along with the beers. “Those are twist-off, so we’re in luck. The problem is where to set up. The floor is sketchy at best.”

“The bed. Picnic.”

“Right.” She gave a nod like she was trying to convince herself it was okay.

He propped up a few pillows and made sure they both had enough to lean against the headboard. Except she didn’t sit beside him, she sat across from him. He opened the beers. “Who’s the food for?”

She held up the box of chocolates. “These are Cara’s favorite. The tortillas and salsa are for Kate, sort of a joke,” she said with that cute smile again.

“What’s the joke?”

Her green eyes sparkled, and she was still smiling while he sat there smiling back like a teenager on his first date. “Well, the night Kate met Matt she was trying to enter into a food-induced coma and she really wanted nachos. But then I found Matt.”

“You found Matt?”

She nodded proudly. “I hand-picked him for her.”

“What does that mean?” He found his smile…not working.

“I picked him out of the crowd.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Hello?”

“Are you calling me on a phone?”

“I mean, hello, have you seen Matt?”

He couldn’t imagine smiling ever again. “I’ve seen him lots of times. I wouldn’t pick him out of a crowd.”

She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, the rest is history. I feel really bad because these beers were for Matt.”

“Don’t worry about him. Here, desperate times,” he said, handing her a bottle. “Who’s the popcorn for?”

Her face turned slightly pink. “Me.”

He laughed. “What kind?”

“Aged cheddar, organic, hand-popped.”

“Beer, chocolate, nachos, and popcorn. It doesn’t get any better than this.”

“All we need is for this storm to end so we can go back home tomorrow.”

“Will Cassy be upset that you’re not home tonight?”

She put a piece of chocolate in her mouth and kind of did some swirling sucking motion; he forced himself to look away. Having, wanting, the adopted mother of his child was not an option. Things would get messy when the paternity test came back and it was time to discuss custody. Feelings would only complicate things even more—sexual feelings or feeling feelings. Neither were appropriate or welcome. He stretched his legs out, concentrated on the food and beer, and waited for her reply.

“Cassy’s really well adjusted. Like, I think she’s more well-adjusted than I am,” she said with a laugh.

He took a sip of beer, smiling as he thought of Cassy.

“She has this confidence, almost an air about her that I admire, you know?” As she finished her voice trailed off softly and she was looking at him with a strange expression. She took a long drink of beer this time but didn’t look back at him.

“She’s definitely outgoing,” he said. “She has the right personality for her career choice, too.”

She tilted her head. “Career choice?”

He stretched his legs out. “You know, as captain. Well, pirate.”

Alex burst out laughing.

“She told me I could help out below deck.” He laughed along with her. He imagined this is what parents did, talk about the funny things their kids said and laugh about them. He could get used to it.

“I’m glad she’s tough,” Alex said, still smiling as she looked down at her beer.

“Me too.”

“So, what do you think the ghost situation is around here?”

He choked on his beer. He realized she was serious when she didn’t laugh. “Uh, non-existent. You can’t tell me you actually believe Igor?”

“Why would he lie?”

“Oh, I’m not saying Igor thinks he’s lying. I think Igor actually believes there’s an Irish ghost wandering around here. But that’s bull. He’s slightly insane,” he added when she didn’t look convinced. The wind continued to rattle the one lone window in the room, and her gaze darted around whenever there was a loud gust of wind. “Another beer?” he asked.

She shook her head and then nodded. He opened it and passed it over to her. “Do you want to trade chocolate for popcorn?”

“Sounds good,” she said, then proceeded to lick the chocolate from her fingertips. He shifted on the bed and looked away.

“Tired?” he asked when she yawned.

She quickly shook her head. “Not at all. Actually, I was contemplating staying up the entire night.”

He stilled, his beer halfway to his mouth. “What?”

She nodded. “You know, I mean, it’s already so late anyway.”

He looked at his watch and frowned. “It’s eight.”

“Yeah, well, I was thinking of staying up and reading one of the new books I bought.”

He put his beer down and studied the expression on her face, except then he ended up looking at her mouth. It was a damn fine, deliciously kissable mouth, but on the wrong woman. His gaze went up to her eyes and his stomach sank. She looked upset, or worried. He ran his hands through his hair. “There are no ghosts, you know that, right?”

She waved a hand away and totally looked like she was lying. “Of course. I just really like reading,” she said, yawning again.

“I’m not tired yet. Why don’t we get to know each other?” There. That was his attempt at being nice. This woman had taken his daughter in and been the perfect mother to her. Sure, she had some hang-ups and apparently believed in ghosts, but he didn’t like the idea of her being so afraid she didn’t want to sleep.

Her eyes narrowed on him. “Why do you want to get to know me?”

He dropped a handful of popcorn into his mouth and chewed while he watched her. He shook his head. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She shrugged, the movement sending a clump of hair over her shoulder. Her hair was never really styled, not that it needed to be; it was thick and shiny. Now that it had gotten wet, he could see it had a wave to it. “Well, after this whole thing is settled, we’re going to be on opposite sides.”

Guilt stabbed him as she looked at him, vulnerable, beautiful. “We don’t have to be enemies. I told you when I first came here, that I’m not here to ruin your life. If I’m Cassy’s dad, the last thing I’d want to do to my daughter is rip her apart from her world. And you’re her mother. I’d owe you. A hell of a lot. More than I’d ever be able to repay you, because you loved her and gave her an ideal home.”

She blinked rapidly, and he could see the tears in her eyes. If she were any other woman, he’d lean across the bed, slip his hands into her hair, and kiss her until she forgot why she was crying. He finished his second beer and reminded himself she wasn’t any other woman.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Hell no she wasn’t any woman. She was just a woman he wanted really badly. She was a woman that made him crave things he hadn’t craved in a hell of a long time. She was a woman that you made love to, a woman you built a home with, a woman you had a family with. She was a woman you wanted by your side. Shit. He reached for another beer.

“So what about your family back home?”

“I have a dad. He recently turned eighty. He’s in great shape though. Still comes into the office most days.”

She smiled. “That’s nice. You work together?”

He nodded. “Yup. He built the company from scratch. We build mostly corporate or high-rise residential buildings. I knew I would always work with him. He’s a good guy.”

“Did he ever get married again?”

He shook his head. “My mother was, uh, very special.” He was going to add that she reminded him of her at times but that sounded kind of creepy so he didn’t. But they had been the same type of mom. Both caring, loving, involved. “What about you?”

She picked at the label on her beer, not looking at him. “No family.”

“Just you and your sisters?”

She looked up at him with a start. “Oh, uh, no we’re not actually related.”

He didn’t say anything.

“We met in foster care. Connected. Bonded. Moved in together when we were adults. Each of us always wanted to adopt a child in foster care…so that’s my family. Kate, Cara, the girls…and now Matt.”

“How did you end up in foster care?”

She didn’t say anything for a few minutes. She opened her mouth to speak but the lights went out, blanketing the room in darkness. He heard her gasp, the only sound besides the wind still howling. “Omigod,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “it’s not Patrick.”

She gave a small laugh that didn’t sound like she thought anything was remotely funny. “Sure, but I’m not moving from this bed.”

“Fair enough. Let me find that lantern Igor gave us.” He rolled off the bed and felt his way over to the dresser.

He heard some rustling on the bed. “Can’t you hurry up?”

“Just trying not to impale myself as I rescue us.” His hand wrapped around the box of matches. In seconds he managed to light a match and the lantern. Now the room glowed softly. Alex was sitting beside his spot on the bed, covers drawn up. She looked young and a lot less like the fearless, I-can-handle-everything woman he’d met that night at the bakery. She looked beautiful and vulnerable, and good God, he wanted her. She was staring at him and he read the relief in her eyes. It distracted him momentarily from wanting her because then the memory of her being a kid in the foster care system came through again. He sat down beside her, stretched out over the covers, careful not to disturb her side of the quilt. He would have rather have been the one to keep her warm, but for once his desire to learn more about a woman won over his desire to sleep with her.

“So we should probably turn in.”

“I thought you weren’t sleeping tonight.”

She frowned and finished off her beer. He took the empty and placed it on his nightstand. “Want another?”

She thought about it for a second and then held out her hand. He opened it and passed it to her. She tilted the beer bottle toward his chest. “Don’t let me finish this beer.”

“Why?”

“You won’t like me very much. Apparently I talk non-stop.”

He grinned. “All right, I’ll finish the rest when you’re done.”

“Thanks.”

She swept her hand in the air toward him.

“So back to what we were talking about.”

“Ghosts?”

“How did you end up in foster care? What happened to your family?”

“I never met my dad so he wasn’t a factor. I lived with my mother for eight years.” He was hanging onto every word and had to rein in his patience when she paused to take a few long gulps.

“What happened to your mother?”

She didn’t say anything for a long time, and he thought she wasn’t going to answer, while she finished the rest of her beer and then looked at it, wincing. “Oops.”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you’d polished it off so quickly.”

She smiled. She peeled the label off, scrunched it in a ball and then placed the bottle and the garbage on her nightstand. He thought she was going to roll over and fall asleep. “We lived above a little bakery. The owners were this really sweet elderly couple, and every day they’d give me a treat after school for free. My mother was…let’s say negligent at best. I was pretty self-sufficient.”

“At eight?”

“I had no choice. When you have an incompetent parent, you learn pretty quickly how to take care of them. And yourself. I would do things to try and make her happy. I’d try and make her happier than the guys she went out with.”

He wished he’d asked Igor for whiskey as he tried to ignore the sick feeling in his gut.

“Anyway, one Saturday morning…actually, no, it wasn’t one Saturday morning, it was the Saturday before Christmas, she said we should go down to the bakery and have breakfast there. I was ecstatic. I thought maybe she was finally going to be happy and have a fun day with me. Maybe she’d think I was a really cool kid and she would suddenly want to spend all this time with me. I thought maybe she was showing me how much she appreciated the fact that I’d stayed up late the night before while she was out and I’d cleaned the entire kitchen and washed the floors. Maybe this would be the day my mom said ‘I love you, Alex.’”

God, he knew this was going to end so fucking badly and he just sat there, waiting for it.

“Do you really want to hear this? I don’t know why I’m talking about this with you,” she whispered. She looked over at him and his insides felt raw and stripped. He hurt for another human being more than he’d ever hurt for himself.

He reached over and took her hand in his, then lifted it up to his lips. It wasn’t enough, but it was what she needed, because she started talking again.

“We sat at the table in the window. I kept on blabbering to her how it was so pretty out. Snow was falling. There were Christmas lights in the window of the store. Shoppers had filled the streets, carrying big bags and boxes. I drank my hot chocolate, and I was so happy. She asked me to go and get her a napkin. Of course I jumped up ready to do whatever she wanted because it was the best day ever. And then I remember walking toward our table and not seeing her there. I knew, deep down. I knew.”

“What?” he whispered in a voice he didn’t recognize.

“I stood at our table and watched her get into some car. She drove away. She left me there and drove away.”

“Jesus, Alex.”

She waved him off, dropping his hand. “It was a week before Christmas and she abandoned her eight-year-old daughter. Merry freaking Christmas, kid, right?”

“Alex, I’m sorry.” He reached for her, but she bolted off the bed.

“I’m fine. I got over it. It’s totally fine,” she said, wobbling because she’d polished off too many beers. Her arms were crossed, and she was staring at him defiantly, until her chin wobbled.

“It’s not fine. How the hell can that be fine?”

Her chin wobbled some more and her eyes filled with tears. “I know it’s not fine. I know. But that’s what I tell myself because I can’t change what happened. I can’t go back. I can’t ever ask her why she did that to me. How can a person do that to another human being? She was my own flesh and blood, and for a long time I couldn’t understand. I sat there all day, telling the owners of the store that I knew she was coming back, that she had told me she was running errands. All these people came in that day. Families, moms and dads and kids, people who actually wanted their own children. Happy people. And I sat there wondering what was so wrong and bad about me that my own mother left me in a store?”

Her voice cracked and she backed up another step until she bumped into the dresser. He was going to give her one more minute and then he was going to reach for her and comfort her in any way she’d let him.

“Sometimes I just wanted to know if I would ever see her again. I couldn’t understand how a mother could walk away. I did everything…everything to try and please her. Now, looking back I wonder if I had sensed from a young age how tenuous our relationship was. I remember cleaning, making her food, wanting everything to be easy and perfect. I would try and help out at the bakery downstairs and the owner was so sweet she’d let me take home leftovers from the day.”

He didn’t say anything, just took it all in, piecing together the things she didn’t tell him. The Sweet Spot Bakery obviously meant so much more to her than a business investment. She was trying to reclaim something real from her past. Her control issues, her need to be perfect, were obviously from her childhood, and her belief that in order to make people stay and love you you had to do things for them, to make their lives easy.

“Did you ever look for her?”

“I waited for my mother to come back, even though I knew she couldn’t. I waited for her at Christmas, after school, after every good thing that happened to me, I waited for her. And then I grew up and I stopped waiting. I stopped caring. You can’t make people love you enough to stick it out when the going gets tough. There are people who are in it for the long haul and there are people who get off on the first stop. I made a choice to only surround myself with people that would have my back forever. I never looked for her. Never. Ever. I don’t want to know. As far as I’m concerned if she could do that to me, she is not a mother. Not my mother.”

He nodded, admiring that she wasn’t filled with self-pity or defeat. She’d taken charge of her life, had decided what she wanted.

“What’s with the fear of attics?”

She crossed her arms. “I don’t have a fear of attics.”

“Uh, yeah. What was that all about downstairs?”

“A normal fear of a weird man that wants to place me in an attic.”

He almost chuckled except he knew she was lying, and this whole damn thing was painful to listen to.

“I lived in an attic for six months.”

“What? With your mother?”

“Yes. Before we lived above the bakery. Except she would lock me in there all day while she went to work. Some days it was really dark. Sometimes she didn’t come home.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes she’d stay at…a guy’s house. I’d hear all sorts of weird sounds. Mice for sure. But night time was the worst. I’d sit up there and cry and imagine all these things like maybe my mother was desperately trying to reach me but got kidnapped by aliens. Of course that wasn’t true, because the next day she’d come home and pass out on the couch. That’s okay, Hayden,” she said when he stood up. “It’s really fine. Totally over it. Once I started school we moved to the bakery. This was such a distant memory I can barely remember.”

“How did you ever survive that? How did you become the person you are?”

“I’ve met some good people along the way. Cara and Kate and I met in a group home and we clicked. We promised each other we’d raise this family together, that we’d be real sisters, that we’d have the kind of family we dreamed about. We all knew we’d adopt a child. Cassy is my little girl and more than anything, I want Cassy to grow up feeling loved, wanted, and safe. I want her to have a perfect childhood. I want her to grow up to be a strong, independent, loving woman. I want her to be able to look back on her childhood with happiness. I want her to never doubt her security or doubt that she is loved. I never want her to feel like she’s not good enough.”

“You’ve done it,” he whispered. “She’s going to be a freaking pirate. She feels pretty good enough.”

She gave him a small laugh.

“That’s all you, Alex. No matter what happens, you gave her that.”

She placed her hands over her face and though he knew how proud and defensive she was, he stood and walked over to her. She didn’t move an inch when he wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t question himself, he didn’t know if she’d push him away, but he couldn’t simply sit there. Her hands were still covering her face, but she leaned against his chest and he rubbed his hand up and down her back. He felt the shudder that wracked her body. He kissed the top of her head, and he knew a part of him was offering her comfort, but he also knew how much he wanted her. He’d been attracted to her the first night he’d met her, but now he was attracted to her on a different level. It had started slowly, seeing her interact with Cassy, at work, now. She turned out to be so much more than he’d ever expected. She turned out to be more than anyone he’d ever met. She was good, and she was kind, and she was a fighter.

Somehow through it all she’d managed to still stay soft and kind-hearted, and he didn’t know how that could even be possible. She should be cold and bitter, and she shouldn’t be showing him this vulnerability that gutted him.

The feel of her in his arms reminded him that it wasn’t just compassion he felt for her. It was raw, real desire. She removed her arms from her face and he pulled back slightly, enough to look into her eyes. He saw the fear in them and he wanted it gone, replaced with desire. “Alex,” he whispered, threading his fingers through her hair and tilting her head back.

“What are you doing?” she whispered. Up close, her eyes were even more beautiful, and her lips were more appealing. He placed his hand on either side of her face, feeling her soft skin under his palms. Her lips parted, and her gaze was alternating between his eyes and his lips.

The woman standing in front of him was made of steel and softness, and it was a combination he didn’t really know what to do with. They were on opposite sides, yet the same. This was hell, because he truly…liked Alex. More than liked. He had other feelings but didn’t know what to do with those, so he’d try and push them aside. That’s what he told himself he’d do, anyway. His mouth apparently had other intentions.

“I’m doing what I wanted to do the night I met you. When you had chocolate on your lips,” he said, lowering his head. He kissed her mouth slowly at first, not knowing if she’d bolt or kick him. Alex tasted sweeter than he’d ever imagined. Sweet, and so damn sexy. For a second she did nothing, then he felt her hands climb up his chest and wrap around his neck. She opened her mouth and kissed him back with the same urgency. His hands left her hair and roamed her body, tracing the sides of her torso, the sides of her breasts. She deepened the kiss. She tasted of chocolate and beer and better than anything he’d ever had. She made a sexy little moan as his hands grazed the sides of her breasts. He forgot about where they were, who she was, and why they shouldn’t be doing this.

His hands fumbled with her sweater and went under, feeling her soft skin beneath his palms. She was breathing raggedly, and when his hands covered her breasts, she whimpered in his mouth. He backed her up against the wall. His thumb grazed a taut nipple through the lace of her bra. She filled his hands and spilled out like he’d already known she would. His leg went between her thighs and she opened for him.

“What are we doing? We can’t do this.”

He stilled for a moment, his hands resting on her waist. “Why not?”

“You’re going to break my heart,” she said, pulling away. “You’re here, and you’re about to ruin the life I’ve built for myself. You want to take my daughter away from me. You’ll have sex with me and…you’ll take off. And if Cassy’s yours, you’ll take off with her, leaving me with nothing. Omigod, what am I doing?” she said running her hands through her hair. “This,” she said, waving her hand between them and then giving him a slight push. “This can never, ever happen again.”

“Stop moving,” a deep, husky voice growled in her ear. There was a large, warm hand on her hip holding her still, and there was another large hand on her breast. She couldn’t see any of this because her hair was covering her face, and she needed to get her bearings. She wriggled against something hard, and he growled again. Ah. Hayden. Her body was curled against his. He was behind her. In bed.

Her eyes snapped open, and she parted a portion of her hair like a stage curtain and peeked out. Sunlight streamed through the one window. And then it all hit her. The beer. Her ridiculously candid tale of her childhood. Hayden and his delicious brand of comfort. The high-school-esque makeout session that she had ended abruptly. Then the two of them falling asleep in each other’s arms. Hayden had been so…hot…and then so sweet.

She moaned without even realizing it until he squeezed her hip again. “No sounds like that, either,” he growled again.

She frowned. “Are you always this miserable in the morning?”

“Only when I have a hot woman in bed with me who turned me down.”

“Sorry about that,” she said, patting his hand and slowly disengaging herself from him to sit at the edge of the bed. She made the mistake of turning to look at him and cursed herself for her decision not to sleep with him. Hayden was lying there looking like some hot-man centerfold. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and every hard line, every perfect inch of him, was on display like some sexy buffet. His jeans were half unbuttoned and lying low on his lean hips. His hair was all mussed up, his face was scruffy, and right now she felt like the stupidest woman on the planet. She had turned this man down? She looked at his face, and his disgruntled expression almost made her smile, but then it almost made her cry because she was so dumb.

“I think I need to get the hell out of here.”

“What? Where are you going?”

He jumped out of bed and marched across the room. She tried to not drool at the sight of him. Muscles rippled when he walked. Rock hard abs clenched as he shrugged into a T-shirt. “I’m going to ask Igor for a shovel, which I’m sure he has lots of, and then dig our car out of the snow. And if I can’t do that, I’ll get it towed. We need to get out of here.” He put his shoes on and then pulled on his coat, not bothering to fix his hair. He stood there looking at her, a tempting mix of sexiness and testosterone. Good God, this man had wanted her? And she’d turned him down? “You need to stop looking at me like that, Alex.”

She started. “What? Me? What are you talking about?”

He frowned. “Like you want to eat me.”

She choked. “What? No.”

“Yes. I’m pissed, and you’re in denial. Well, your body is not in denial. Your head is.”

“All right, back it up there, buddy,” she said, motioning backward with her hands. “I was at least very sensible. Where would we be right now if we’d…slept together?”

He buttoned up his coat with quick, efficient motions. “Probably in bed, having sex for the third time.” He shot her a look. Up and down her body. “Or fourth.”

Her face felt like a raging ball of fire and too many images and feelings coursed through her. She tried clearing her throat. “Water. I think I need some water,” she croaked.

He let out a sigh. “I’ll go to the car and come and get you once I figure out a way out of this dump.”

“Are you sure? Give me five minutes and I’ll come with you and help.”

“No thanks. I need to burn off some…energy.”

And with that he was gone. Alex’s knees felt wobbly, and she sat on the bed with a sigh, then she stretched out on it. She caught a scent of Hayden’s cologne and slowly crawled toward his side of the bed and buried her face in his pillow. Oh, she was so done. She closed her eyes and inhaled, stretching out her body like a cat ready for a long nap. When had she ever felt like this? Never. She had never met a man like him. It had taken every ounce of self-preservation instincts last night to turn him down. She had never, ever been turned on like that. If it wasn’t for the fear that he would ruin her emotionally, she wouldn’t have said no. And then when she thought he was mad, and she went to sleep on her own side of the bed in the dark, feeling horribly alone, he’d pulled her into him. She had never felt more safe or more wanted in her entire life.

She closed her eyes, wondering when the last time she’d ever slept past seven o’clock was. She took a deep breath of Hayden and fell into the most wonderful sleep.

Hayden placed a bottle of water and a cup of coffee on Alex’s nightstand without waking her up. He also tried not to weep like a baby. The woman currently sprawled out on the bed in a dead sleep was driving him to the point of insanity. Last night had been the beginning of this other side of himself he didn’t even know existed, the sensitive, emotional side. It was a side that he was now, in the light of day, extremely unsure of. Alex had completely disarmed him. She had stripped him of all the layers that he thought made him the man he was and left him questioning everything.

He had feelings for her. Lots of feelings, he thought as he glanced at her. Sexual feelings, obviously. Those he expected. Those he appreciated and welcomed. It was the other crap, the protectiveness that had consumed him when she told him about her mother was something he had never experienced. He didn’t know what to do with it. He didn’t know what to do with anything about Alex. He liked her, enjoyed being around her, wanted to be around her…and he didn’t know what to do about that. If she had been any other woman, in any other circumstance, feelings wouldn’t be involved and lust would have been easy to deal with.

You’re going to break my heart… You want to take my daughter away from me…What was he supposed to say to that? She had basically confirmed she had feelings for him as well. And she’d stated the obvious—he was here to take her daughter, his daughter away. Well, at least take away the life she had created for the two of them. Her life had been too hard.

How the hell did a parent just leave a kid? How the hell did anyone leave her? He was angry for her, and he wanted to protect her. Last night she’d shot him down and he got it, he got all her reasons. Even if he didn’t agree with them, he got them. Even though she’d turned him down, the need to hold her had superseded all other needs. That had led to torture of the finest kind. No matter what happened, he was going to help her. Whether or not Cassy was his, he’d find a way to make her dream come true.

She stretched and he had to turn away. She was beautiful in a way that actually made him hurt. He stuffed a bunch of the gifts they’d left out the night before back into the shopping bags.

“Ah! Did I fall back asleep?”

“Yeah,” he said, lining up the bags at the door.

“Do I smell coffee?”

He glanced over at her. She was sitting up, her hair a mop around her face, looking so cute when she shouldn’t. She shouldn’t be able to appeal to him like this, but she was so freaking real. Everything about her was gorgeous and real.

“I managed to dig us out, spotted a Tim Horton’s, and got you a water and coffee.”

She made a dive for the coffee. “Thank you,” she said, taking a sip and groaning.

He looked away again. “I’ve got this place packed up so as soon as you’re ready to leave, we can get the hell out of this dump.”

“And everything that happened last night…”

“Will never happen again, unless you want it to.” He added that last bit in because, well, hell, he was a guy and if she so much as crooked his finger at him, she’d have him.

She fiddled with the coffee cup. “Nope. Not. Even. Tempted. We can go back to being amicable enemies.”

He smiled and walked toward her. He stopped when she held up her hand.

“Okay, totally lying. Very tempted. Next time I see you, be sure to get rid of all that…” She made a circular motion with her finger, waving it at his face. “That scruff. And buy some white jeans. And comb your hair really neatly. No more finger combing.”

He wasn’t following. “Why? Am I from the eighties?”

She laughed like it was an inside joke. “Never mind. We need to get moving. Lots to do and I’m supposed to be at work this afternoon.”

The bakery. He was going to have to do something about that too. But first, the car. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you about your car. I’m going to help.”

“Nope. Thank you. I’ve got it all under control. All of it.”

Whatever. He’d never been one to take no for an answer. He’d deal with it himself.

She grabbed her coat and turned her back to him but spoke. “So, um, I didn’t get Cassy’s DNA sample out. I will as soon as I go back home today. We should still know by Christmas.”

He stared at the back of her head and hated that all of this suddenly felt wrong. If Cassy was his, they’d be working out some kind of custody. If Cassy wasn’t his … that was the worst-case scenario, because that would mean he’d lose them both.