Читать книгу The Daddy Plan - Karen Smith Rose - Страница 7

The door to Sam’s bedroom opened.

Corrie sat up, keenly aware of his presence.

“Getting cold?” he asked, his gaze taking in her tumbled curls.

“A little.” He wasn’t wearing a shirt, just gray sweat pants. Her eyes followed the curly path of his chest hair down to the drawstring. She jerked her gaze up to his eyes again.

In the hushed shadows of night and the silence broken only by the snores of the dogs cuddled in the dog bed beside the sofa, something primitive and powerful vibrated between her and Sam. Because it was the middle of the night? Because he was shirtless? Because she thought he was the sexiest man she had ever known?

Breaking the spell, he turned away from her and went to the fireplace. “I’ll have this stoked up again in a minute.”

She couldn’t unglue her gaze from his bare back, his muscled arms and shoulders. “Do you cut your own firewood?”

“Whoever uses the stove has to replace what they burn. So, yes, I’ve been using and replacing since I’ve been here. Why? Are you interested in learning how to split logs?” He glanced over his shoulder at her and his smile was teasing.

“Hardly. I probably couldn’t even handle the ax.”

“I know for a fact you’re stronger than you look. You lifted Mr. Huff’s basset hound. He had to weigh fifty pounds.”

After Sam closed the door to the woodstove insert in the fireplace, he brushed his hands against his thighs.

Corrie’s stomach grumbled and Sam heard it. “You’ve got to be hungry. You hardly ate any supper.”

That’s because she’d felt like an idiot. After she’d taken Sam’s shirt and changed in the bathroom, she’d returned to the living room realizing the darkness outside didn’t mean it was time for bed. She’d been so rattled by their conversation and just being alone with him, that she’d forgotten all sense of time and place. He’d warmed cans of soup. Wrapped in the blanket on the sofa, she’d eaten some, just praying the hours would pass quickly.

While she’d leafed through magazines, Sam had worked at his laptop. Later he’d insisted he take the dogs out. It had been too cold and too snowy for them to stay out long and within fifteen minutes, they were all getting ready for bed.

“How about cookies and hot chocolate?” he asked her now, looking like a kid who knew better but wanted to have a treat anyway.

“We really won’t get any sleep.”

“No, but our sweet tooth will be satisfied and I bet your stomach will stop growling.”

The room was warming already. Letting the blanket fall, she stood. She hadn’t taken off her socks. She felt a bit ridiculous with his shirt on, which stopped just below her knees, and her knee socks which came up to her shins.

“I’ll help you.”

In the small kitchen, they couldn’t turn around without bumping hips, rubbing elbows or standing practically toe to toe. She put two mugs of water in the microwave while he pulled the bag of cookies from the back of the cupboard.

The silence between them grew too full of everything they were both thinking and not saying. Corrie asked, “Did you really come out here to stoke up the stove?”

“I knew the cabin would get cold if I didn’t, but…My mind won’t stop circling around what you asked me. I mean, it’s not like I’m dating you and one night foolishly we’re not protected and suddenly we’re having a baby. That’s altogether different from what you’re planning.”

“Don’t you see, Sam, this is so much better than the scenario you just described? We’re both deciding if this is what we want. We’re planning. If you were to tell me you don’t want to be involved at all, that would be fine. I’ll take full responsibility for this baby. That’s what I want.”

He studied her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable.

“What?”

“I don’t understand why you’re so set on taking this on alone.”

“Alone isn’t so bad. Alone, I don’t have anyone else to answer to. Alone, I can make decisions for my child based on what I think’s best. Alone, I don’t have to worry about what someone else is going to do or say or think.”

“Where does your independence come from, Corrie? What happened to you?”

His question took her aback and she couldn’t just laugh it off. But she couldn’t confide in him, either. They didn’t know each other that well. “I told you, my mom and dad divorced.”

“There’s more to it than that. You’re a caregiver. You don’t hesitate to jump in and take care of a sick animal, to keep someone like Shirley company when she was lonely. What made you this way?”

If she clammed up and shut down, Sam would just turn away from her request as if it was a whim on her part. After thinking about Sam’s question, she finally answered, “When my dad left, my mom and I took care of each other. She was a very loving person and didn’t hesitate to help someone else when she could. I guess I just picked up on that. When she got sick—” She hadn’t meant to say that. She hadn’t meant to go into that.

The microwave beeped and she was glad for the interruption. Turning, she took the mugs of hot water from the small oven.

But Sam was right there, snagging the mugs from her, setting them on the counter. He towered over her while his bare skin, his male scent and his muscled arms seemed to surround her. “When did your mother get sick?”

“Oh, Sam. I don’t really want to—”

He clasped her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. “Tell me.”

“I had graduated from college and was in my second year of veterinary school when she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She had no one but me. So I quit school to move back home and take care of her.”

“That’s why you didn’t finish?”

Corrie nodded, a huge lump in her throat, not because she had to quit school, but because she still missed her mother. She could feel the heat of Sam’s hands through his flannel shirt. She wanted to reach out and touch the stubble on his jaw. She wanted to let him hold her until his strength became hers and the missing and the loneliness went away.

“Why didn’t you go back?”

She remembered how her mother wouldn’t take any help from her father. They had both cut him out of their lives because he’d hurt them so badly. When a girl saw her dad with another woman, when he seemed to care more about that woman than about being a father and a husband, the pain of rejection cut deep. He’d made halfhearted attempts to see Corrie after he and her mother divorced, but Corrie hadn’t wanted to see him. The visits had been too awkward because Corrie had just wanted him to go away. Except, she really hadn’t. She’d just wanted her dad back—the dad he’d been before she’d caught him with a woman who wasn’t her mother.

“I didn’t go back to school because I’d used up my money paying for nursing care for Mom. I’m saving again. I’m still hoping to finish.”

“And if you have a baby?”

“I don’t have all the answers yet, Sam, but having a baby doesn’t mean I can’t finish school some day.”

He released her shoulders and stepped away, putting more than physical distance between them. “Better mix in the chocolate or the water will get cold.”

She wasn’t sure what had just happened, but something had. She might not be the only one unwilling to confide her secrets.

When they’d settled on the sofa, Patches raised his head but then went back to sleep, his nose close to Jasper’s.

“I’m surprised he doesn’t mind sharing his bed,” Corrie noticed.

“Patches never met a dog he didn’t like.”

She laughed and the tension that had cropped up between them dissipated.

Sam dipped his cookies into his hot chocolate and didn’t seem bothered when they disintegrated in it. She took hers apart, licked off the icing and ate one half at a time. As she did, she noticed Sam watching her.

She wiped her hand across her mouth. “Crumbs?” she asked.

“A few.” His voice was low and husky. With his thumb, he wiped the corner of her mouth.

She went very still. Time seemed to stop. Her breathing became shallower and faster.

Sam set his mug down on the coffee table. “I think I’ve had enough. I’m going to try to sleep again. You should, too.”

If she slept, she knew what fantasies would invade her dreams—Sam kissing her…Sam making love to her.

Indulging in fantasies would throw her off course. She wouldn’t let a man do that to her.

She would stay on course and become a mother—with or without Sam Barclay.

Sam came in the front door, the morning light brightening the cabin. The dogs followed him inside, and Corrie realized she hadn’t even heard them leave. Sam looked different this morning and she noticed why—he’d shaved off his beard.

“I’m going back to Rapid Creek with you today,” he announced. “I’ll follow you.”

She’d never expected this. “I didn’t think you’d come home until the end of the week.”

“I’m not sure the snow’s finished. I don’t want to see you get caught in it alone while you’re trying to drive home.”

It seemed Sam Barclay had a chivalrous streak. She should have known that but it had never been directed at her before. “I don’t need your protection, Sam. Really. I’ll be fine if you want to stay.”

“It’s time for me to go back. I’ll be packed in about a half hour.” Sam was keeping his distance this morning. She thought about last night on the sofa when he’d touched her so gently, so sensually, so temptingly.

“Have you made a decision about…anything else?”

“You’ll be the first one to know when I do.”

She felt herself blush. This new awareness between them was unsettling. It could be exciting, but she wouldn’t let excitement take hold, not with what they were considering. She needed Sam as a friend, not as the hunky object of a teenage-like crush. Hormones as an adult were still hormones. She could control them as she always had. She’d never understood women who found themselves in situations they couldn’t handle. Her mind had always ruled her body and she didn’t see that changing now.

Corrie picked up the towel she’d used on Jasper last night. “I’ll rub him down and then get a quick shower if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine. Just don’t stay in too long or you’ll run out of hot water.”

“Do you happen to have a hair dryer?” She thought he might laugh at her request.

Instead he frowned. “As a matter of fact, I do.” His voice went lower. “I brought Alicia up here once and she forgot it.”

Alicia. Alicia had been here with Sam.

Corrie knew without a doubt that the two of them hadn’t slept in separate rooms. Alicia Walker was the kind of woman who went after what she wanted and she’d wanted Sam. Corrie still didn’t know who’d broken the engagement but from the expression on Sam’s face, now wasn’t the time to ask.

Sam didn’t stay while she toweled Jasper. Apparently mentioning Alicia had brought up memories he didn’t want to think about. Maybe she was the one who had broken it off and he still wanted to be engaged. Maybe he still wanted to marry her.

When Corrie stepped into Sam’s bathroom, she realized it wasn’t as warm as the living room and she didn’t dawdle in the shower. She’d forgotten to ask for a fresh towel so she pulled Sam’s from the rack. It smelled like his soap and him. He rarely wore cologne. He’d told her after she’d been hired that some animals were skittish about smells.

After she vigorously toweled her hair and knew she wouldn’t be able to do anything about the ringlets without a curling iron, she began dressing. She’d snapped her jeans and just fastened her bra when there was a knock on the door. She froze.

“I have the hair dryer,” Sam called from the other side.

“Just a minute.” Quickly she tugged her sweater over her head and lifted out her wet hair. As she opened the door, she was breathless.

Sam’s gaze lingered on her wet hair. “You look different.” He handed her the hair dryer.

“Just wait. I’ll look like a dandelion gone to seed when I dry it with this.”

He laughed out loud. “Corrie, I should have talked to you about more than animals the past couple of years. You know how to laugh at yourself. Do you know what a rare quality that is?”

“I just say the truth before someone else can. It’s a defense mechanism.”

“Maybe it is.” As if he couldn’t help himself, he reached out and tugged a strand of her hair that had gotten caught under her sweater and freed it to lie on her shoulder. He looked as if he wanted to say something…or do something. His dark-brown eyes were unreadable, but she thought he leaned toward her just a bit. Then he was stepping back.

“Thanks, I’ll be finished in about five minutes,” she murmured.

“We’d better get going as soon as we can. I don’t like the looks of that sky.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were on the road. Jasper and Patches had chosen to hop into Sam’s van so Corrie led the procession, her mind racing. Would Sam decide to be her donor? And if he was, what then? Maybe both of their lives would be a lot simpler if she just went to a fertility clinic in Minneapolis. There was a good one there. Sam would be off the hook and she—

She just didn’t like the idea of being impregnated by a stranger’s sperm. Sam’s child…She smiled. Sam’s child would be a handful, she was sure.

Snow began to fall, big heavy flakes mixed with shards of ice. The roads were plowed but not altogether clear from the day before. Corrie glanced in the rearview mirror. Sam was concentrating on the space between their cars. She felt so pleased he’d decided to follow her. She had lived in Minnesota all of her life and wasn’t a stranger to driving on snowy roads. But the ice chips mixed with the snowflakes had her easing her foot off the accelerator and made her fingers grip the wheel tighter.

Corrie saw the mound of snow too late. The pile could have fallen from a vehicle as it was driven down the road. Wherever it had come from, as soon as her left front tire hit it, she went into a skid. Her anti-lock brakes kicked in but the car just wouldn’t stop coasting. She ended up with her left side in the snowbank across the road from where she should be. The snowbank went halfway up her window.

It all happened so fast, she was almost dizzy with the speed of it. Her side of the car tilted into the snowbank and she couldn’t see anything. She knew she had to get out and tell Sam she was okay, but she was still a little breathless from the skid—

The passenger-side door opened. She could hear barking—Jasper’s shorter barks and Patches’s more resounding ones. In an instant, Sam was inside the car, his voice worried, his expression set in stone.

“Corrie, don’t move. Just tell me if anything hurts.”

Hurts? She couldn’t be hurt. She’d simply crossed to the wrong side of the road. She was wearing her seat belt and reached to unfasten it. “I’m okay. I feel so stupid—”

He stayed her hand. “Trust me a minute. Take a deep breath.” He was studying her—her head, her face, her neck, her shoulders, her arms. “Can you move your legs okay?”

She wiggled her feet, then moved one leg at a time. Brushing his hand away from the seat belt, she unbuckled it. “I’m fine, Sam, really. I’m not a china doll.”

“Sometimes adrenaline kicks in after an accident. You can be hurt and not know it. Just sit still a minute.”

So she sat, turned to look at him, and gave him a weak smile. “It’s the car I’m worried about. Thank goodness the dogs were with you.”

“They’re having a fit. They wanted out of the van, but I just cracked a window. I need to know whether to call 911 or the towing service.”

“My seat belt kept me safe. Really.”

She turned her head from side to side and rolled her shoulders. “Everything works.”

“Think you can slide across the seat so you can get out?”

“Sure.”

He gave her another worried look then climbed out.

After she managed to transfer from the driver’s seat to the passenger seat, Sam offered his hand to help her out of the car. She took it and it felt so big and strong and warm. As soon as she was on her feet, he was holding her at her waist. His face was close to hers, their breaths mingling white in the cold.

“Are you dizzy?”

Any lightheadedness she might be feeling came from being this close to him, not from running into a snowbank. She shook her head.

All at once his arms went around her and he pulled her in for a hug. “When I saw your car fishtail—Jeez, you scared me.”

His head dipped a little closer to hers. She raised her chin. Their lips clung and held. Their New Year’s Eve kiss had been impulsive, exciting, so filled with sexual chemistry it had scared the living daylights out of her. But this kiss…

It was hungry, passionate, all-consuming…

Suddenly it was over and Sam was shaking his head and swearing. “I’m sorry, Corrie. I—”

He was sorry? “Why?”

“Because you were just in an accident. I was more panicked than I wanted to be. We were both reacting. It wasn’t…real.”

Not real? That kiss had been real to her, but Sam obviously wasn’t looking at it the same way she was. He clearly didn’t want to admit there was any attraction between them this time any more than he’d wanted to recognize it after their first kiss. She couldn’t let on how much it affected her…how much she’d wanted it. How very right it had seemed.

“If you don’t want it to be real, then it wasn’t real. It never happened,” she stated matter-of-factly as she dug into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out her cell phone. “I’ll call the auto club. I’m afraid we’re going to be stuck here for a while.”

“We can sit in the van,” he assured her, his words even and tempered as she speed-dialed the auto club.

Forty-five minutes later, the tow truck arrived and pulled her car out of the snowbank. The mechanic looked over it and said, “I don’t think you should drive it. The tire isn’t flat but it could be punctured by the rim. The car’s definitely out of alignment. We need to check that axle, too.”

“We’re headed for Rapid Creek,” Sam said. “Can you work on it tomorrow?”

“Not likely. There were three other accidents. First come, first served. It will probably be Wednesday until I get to it.”

Corrie felt as if she were going to cry and knew that was a ridiculous reaction. There had been a palpable tension between her and Sam as they’d waited in his van. A different kind of tension than after their New Year’s Eve kiss.

They were still an hour from Rapid Creek. The tow truck had come from Calumet, fifteen minutes west of where they were now. “I can do without the car. I can walk to work. But I’ll have to find someone to drive me to your garage when it’s finished.”

“I’ll drive you back up here,” Sam said firmly. “Is there anything you need in your car before he takes it?”

Since she’d already snagged her purse, she shook her head. “No.”

“Then sign right here,” the mechanic said, offering her his clipboard. “Make sure you give me a phone number where I can reach you.”

Corrie jotted down her home phone as well as her cell phone number. Five minutes later, she was inside Sam’s van again with the dogs in the backseat.

At first they’d barked and licked and made sure they’d gotten her attention. But after a few pets, scratches and a “We’re going home now” they’d settled down. She, however, hadn’t settled down. Beside Sam in his vehicle, she was too aware of what had happened between them. Too aware that this was a one-sided attraction and if she didn’t call off the sperm donation, she’d be headed for…heartache. Whether she had a crush on the man or simply growing feelings for him, either would lead her down a painful road.

The snow finally stopped falling as they reached the outskirts of Rapid Creek. Sam had been silent during the drive until he pulled up in front of the apartment complex where she lived. “Are you still feeling okay?” he asked gruffly.

“I told you. I’m fine.”

His frown deepened. “I’m going in with you.”

“Sam.”

“I’m going in with you. You can move around a bit, feed Jasper, just make sure all your parts are working okay.”

Rolling her eyes, she unbuckled her seat belt and climbed out of his van. Sam opened the back door and called for the dogs. They followed them up the curved path to the complex. Jasper ran inside the town house and danced around the kitchen until Corrie filled his food dish. Sam kept an eagle eye on her while Patches sniffed everything in sight. She wouldn’t have minded that eagle eye if he’d been watching her for something other than symptoms from the accident.

“Do you always keep your place this straightened up?” he asked.

She wasn’t a clean freak, but she was neat. She had tidied up before she’d left for his cabin. “I usually put things away after I use them.” Her voice was a little more clipped than it should be, but she was tired, feeling the effects of the drive and everything that had happened, not to mention not getting much sleep last night.

“Is there anything you need before I go?”

She approached him, looking him squarely in the eye. “I don’t need anything from you, Sam. That includes your sperm if you have the slightest hint of a doubt about donating it. I only asked you because I thought it would be…easier. But now I’m not so sure. So whether you do it or not doesn’t really matter. I’ll have a baby with or without you.”

She knew that look. The hollow in his cheek twitched just a little and his brow creased. He was keeping his temper in check. “I’ll give you my answer in a few days. Do you want me to pick you up for work tomorrow morning?”

“That won’t be necessary.”

After a long look at her, he headed for the door but he stopped with his hand on the knob. “If you get a headache or you feel dizzy, I don’t care who you call, but call someone. Promise me that.”

She was an employee of his and in that respect, he did care. “I promise,” she said solemnly.

Whistling for Patches, Sam left with his dog and shut the door behind him.

Corrie sank down to the sofa, laid her head back against the cushion and wondered what in the world she’d gotten herself into.