Читать книгу His Best Friend's Baby - Susan Carlisle - Страница 9

PHOEBE HAD SPENT so much time without a man or his help it made her nervous to have Ryan in her house. While he’d been putting together the bed, she’d been in the kitchen, cooking. Still, she’d been aware of every clatter or thump that had come from the direction of the bedroom. On occasion she’d heard a swear word. She smiled. More than once her father had bloodied his knuckles, putting a toy together for her or her brother.

It was nice to have someone in the house. She’d considered getting a dog or cat a couple of times just so there would be a living, breathing thing around. She’d decided to wait because she didn’t want the poor animal alone in the house all day.

Ryan came around the corner. “All done. Come see what you think.”

She put the plate on the table and headed down the hall, well aware of him following her. He’d pushed the bed up against the wall across from the window. It looked like the perfect place for it. She ran her hand along the railing. “It looks wonderful.”

“Do you have a mattress for it?”

“Yes, it’s in the other bedroom.”

“I’ll get it.”

He soon returned with a mattress covered in protective plastic. Together they worked to remove it. Ryan lifted the bedding and dropped it into place.

“It almost makes it real,” she said with a note of wonder.

“What?”

“A baby coming.”

He chuckled. “I would think that large mound you’re sporting out front would make it seem pretty real.”

“It does but the bed is something tangible.”

“What about a rocker or any other furniture?”

She shrugged. “I’ll have to go buy something. I was hoping I could find some pieces at a garage sale that I could redo. I wanted to paint it bright and add animals and plants, that sort of thing.”

“You mean like the other folk art you have in the living room?”

She looked at him with a brightness that said they were talking about a passion of hers. “You know about folk art?”

“Only what it is. I’m more a straight paint and stain kind of guy. Fancy painting isn’t my thing. So, if you’ll show me where you want these books, I’ll start moving them.”

“They go in my bedroom.”

She went out the doorway and turned toward the end of the hall, then went through an open doorway. Ryan followed more slowly. Why did it bother him that he had just been invited into his buddy’s wife’s bedroom? She hadn’t even thought about what she was saying. When she looked back he was standing in the doorway.

“They go on this bookshelf. If you’ll bring them to me, I can shelve them.”

Ryan returned with an armload of books. She’d taken a seat on the floor in front of the shelving while he’d been gone.

He stacked the books on the floor and she went to work, putting them in place.

Ryan looked down at Phoebe. He saw pregnant women day in and day out, but there was something almost angelic about the way her golden hair covered a portion of her face and her small hands put the books so neatly into their spots.