Chapter 3
When Ellie woke up the next morning, she was groggy and disoriented.
And then everything slammed into her. Right. She’d only slept for a couple of hours because—
She sat bolt upright and looked at the bassinet that was set up right beside her bed. The baby was sleeping.
Her heart leapt, and she put her hand on the newborn’s chest, felt her heart beating beneath her palm.
Then she put a hand on her own chest, feeling the erratic heartbeat there.
“Holy crap,” she said. “This is going to be a long eighteen years, Baby Girl.”
She reached into the bassinet and picked the baby up. A little squeak and flex of her body were the infant’s only reactions.
Ellie took her phone out of her purse, which she’d dumped next to the bed, and saw that she had several texts from Angelica. Ellie had said she’d be gone all night, but hadn’t gone into any details.
She pushed the microphone icon to send a voice-to-text message, and gave Angelica a download of everything that had happened as she started to get out of bed. Then she walked down the stairs, holding Baby Girl close as she followed the scent of coffee.
Clark was standing there in the kitchen, barefoot, wearing nothing but a pair of blue jeans, and her heart did a somersault.
He was … extraordinary. His back was thickly muscled, and there was a scar on his side that piqued her interest. She wanted to examine it closely but she also wanted to run out of the room.
Was this fight or flight?
He turned to face her, and her heart did not calm down.
No. No, it wasn’t panic, sadly.
He was a fine man. His chest was heavily muscled too, his abdomen ridged.
He looked like the kind of guy who worked out in the gym, except she knew he didn’t.
It was all from riding bulls and generally being a really hot cowboy.
Because of him, she had decided that cowboys weren’t her type.
Because of the way he made her throat dry in high school, and made her heart race, and was the subject of her very first sex dream.
Before she’d ever even had sex.
Yeah. There was simply no need for her to dwell on that. Or on the tattoo he had on his rib cage, in scrolling cursive that she couldn’t read, but desperately wanted to.
Her eyes shot back up to his, her whole body tingling with the awareness that she’d been so busy looking at his torso, it was probably obvious.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice rough.
“Good morning. She needs a name.”
“I agree,” he said. “But I don’t exactly have a list of baby names on hand.”
“Yeah. Me either.”
Well, secretly, she’d always wanted to name a baby after her grandmother, who had been the sweetest, most soft-spoken woman, but with a steely determination. She had been kind, but never one to be taken advantage of.
“Marjorie,” she said. “Our grandmother … Melanie had a great relationship with her. She died when we were in middle school. I think she would like that as a name.”
“Well, it’s kind of an old lady name,” he said. “But then, new babies look a little bit like old people.”
“Agreed. On both counts. But I think it’s a fine tribute. And one that she’ll appreciate. Someday. Melanie, I mean.”
She didn’t know if Melanie was ever going to have contact with her own daughter. She couldn’t really picture the future right now. Overnight their lives had changed.
She and Clark had only interacted during sibling emergencies. They saw each other in the worst, most stressful moments of their lives.
Now here she was, standing in his kitchen, holding a baby, wearing yesterday’s clothes, while he stood there shirtless and barefoot.
“Marjorie Porter.”
She frowned. “I don’t know about that.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re not adopting her by yourself.”
“No. But I assume she’ll be given her daddy’s name.”
She one hundred percent knew what he meant. But it sounded as if he was calling himself Daddy, which made her think about …
She shook her head. She was in a little bit of a dry spell. Okay, a lot of a dry spell. Ever since she and Jason had called it quits, she’d just kind of given up.
She wasn’t a romantic. Not really. She didn’t feel she could afford to be. Her independence was important to her, but she definitely hadn’t imagined a future in which she was thirty-three and extremely single.
And just like that, you’re an instant mother.
Well, there was a gift to her biological clock.
“What time did CPS say they were coming by today?” he asked.
“I think around nine,” she said.
“I need to finish this coffee then.”
“Me too,” she agreed.
They caffeinated, then he whisked the baby away to change her diaper. Not long after that, Daisy showed up and interviewed them together, then took a tour of the home.
“I think this should be a very fast process,” she said.
“Good,” they replied in unison.
And just like that, their lives were on a completely different trajectory than what they’d imagined.
Once Daisy left, Ellie wasn’t quite sure what they were supposed to do. How they were going to work all this out.
“Ellie,” Clark said, “I think you’re going to have to move in with me.”