Chapter Four
Heather opened the front door of her apartment and stared at Jim as he stood on the porch, a shopping bag in each hand. She didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. “You’re making me crazy,” she said as she pushed open the screen door to let him in.
“You love all the attention,” he said easily as he strolled into her kitchen and began putting away groceries.
As if he was completely comfortable. As if he knew where everything went.
Which he was and he did. The man had been visiting her twice a day for a week.
Why wouldn’t he be at home in her house?
“You can’t keep buying me things,” she said.
“Wanna bet?” He winked. “Besides, this isn’t all for you.”
“What have you bought her now?”
He tried to look innocent and instead only looked sinfully handsome.
Really, it was incredibly unfair. She wasn’t getting a whole lot of sleep, so there were unattractive circles under her eyes.
She had breasts for the first time in her life, which was nice except they hurt a lot and leaked, not to mention the fact that her clothes didn’t fit right yet and she swam in her maternity stuff.
Jim, on the other hand, was gorgeous. He frequently wore casual business dress or jeans, but he always looked put together, healthy and beautiful, if a man could be such a thing.
“Is she awake?” he asked instead of answering her question, then breezed past her and headed for Diane’s room.
Heather followed. “You’re awake,” he murmured to the baby in the bassinet.
“Aren’t you the clever girl, knowing that your uncle Jim was coming to see you?
” He glanced at Heather. “May I pick her up?”
She nodded. Jim reached down and lifted Diane into his arms, then cooed at the infant.
“Did I tell you how pretty you are? That nightshirt Mommy chose is very flattering on you. It makes your eyes look even more blue. You’re going to be a heartbreaker when you grow up. And smart, too. I can tell.”
The litany went on. By now, Heather was used to Jim’s ongoing conversations with her daughter. As far as he was concerned, little Diane was the most beautiful, brilliant, incredible child ever born. Lord knows what he would say if he had a kid of his own.
As Jim rocked and tickled and generally fussed over Diane, Heather tried to figure out who this man was.
He had to have flaws, although to date she hadn’t found any.
He showed up with the regularity of a paid nurse, brought her groceries, stamps and any number of things she needed.
He filled her car with gas so she could drive several hundred miles if circumstances called for it.
He’d put together the dresser and the crib, had brought more toys than any three children could ever play with.
He was funny and kind, fun to be with and the perfect gentleman.
According to the brief rundown he’d given her on his life, he was single, had never been married and wasn’t seriously involved with anyone.
So why was he hanging out with an infant and her still-hormonal mother?
Heather didn’t think of herself as a cynical person, but she’d seen a bit of the world. Men like Jim didn’t exist. Therefore, there had to be something very, very wrong with him. If only she could figure out what it was….
Jim led the way back into the kitchen where he lifted a small pink bakery box out of a bag and set it on the table. He flashed Heather a grin. “You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”
“Gee, thanks. If you don’t think I’ll be in the way.”
He glanced down at the baby in his arms. “Do you think Mom will be in the way? I don’t.
I think she’ll be a lot of fun at the party and I happen to know she’s your favorite person in the whole world.
So what do you say?” He paused as if Diane was answering, then nodded solemnly.
“Diane says she’s thrilled you’re going to join us. ”
Despite her confusion and the unanswered questions she had about Jim, Heather had to laugh. “I’m honored.” She took a seat across from him at the round table.
Jim pushed the bakery box toward her. “My hands are full right now. Why don’t you open it?”
She lifted the lid and stared down at the little cake.
Pink letters danced across chocolate frosting.
It took her a minute to figure out that the letters weren’t moving at all, but that they seemed to be because of the tears in her eyes.
“Happy One Week B-day, Diane,” read the script.
Heather blinked rapidly so that Jim wouldn’t see that her hormones were still acting up, then she removed the cake from the box and smiled at him.
“This is a very sweet gesture.”
He beamed. “They couldn’t spell out ‘birthday’ because there wasn’t enough room, but I didn’t think Diane would mind.
” He’d settled the baby so that her rump rested on the inside of his forearm and her head nestled by his shoulder.
“Do you mind, sweet cheeks? It’s chocolate, which I know is your favorite.
Or it will be when you figure out what chocolate is.
It’s a girl thing. Women love chocolate.
Guys do not understand this relationship, although we respect it.
” He kissed the top of her head. “You can’t eat any today, but I wanted you to know I remembered your one week birthday.
I thought for your one month celebration we’d have pony rides.
” He looked at Heather. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re a very strange man.” She got up and collected forks, a knife and two plates. “Do you want ice cream with your cake?”
“Sure.” He shifted in his chair. “Uh-oh, this little one is fading fast.”
Heather looked over and saw that her daughter had closed her eyes and sagged against Jim. “Want me to take her to her room?”
“No,” he told her as he rose to his feet. “I can do it.”
With that, he disappeared into the rear of the house.
Heather stared after him. When Diane had first been born, Jim had been afraid to hold her.
He’d looked so awkward standing there in her hospital room.
But a mere week later, he was an expert who even changed the occasional diaper. Just like a regular dad.
She paused in the act of slicing the cake.
Jim Dyer wasn’t Diane’s father. He wasn’t her anything.
Luke was the biological parent, although since signing away his rights, he’d never gotten in touch with Heather.
She wondered how he’d cut her out of his life so easily.
Apparently, the relationship had been a game to him.
Something he played at while he decided if he wanted to get back together with his wife.
“You’re looking serious about something,” Jim said from the kitchen doorway.
“Just lost in thought.” She scooped ice cream onto both plates and set them on the table. “Thanks for this,” she said as she pushed his dessert toward him. “You’re right about women and chocolate.”
“It’s a scary thing,” he teased. “I try not to think about it.” He settled into the seat across from hers. “If it makes you feel any better, the lady at the bakery thought I was strange about the cake, too.”
“I’ll bet,” Heather said, realizing the lady at the bakery would have assumed that Jim was a doting father.
Which brought her back to the question that had plagued her for an entire week. Why was he still here?
She poured them both tall glasses of milk, then sat at the table. “We have to talk,” she said.
Jim paused in the act of raising a cake-and-ice-cream-laden fork to his mouth. He lowered his arm and pushed the plate away. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”
If only he wasn’t so good-looking, she thought uncomfortably as she took in the dark blue eyes and slightly too long hair that fell across his forehead.
And that stupid dimple. How was she supposed to resist a man with a dimple?
Especially a man who went out of his way to make her laugh and feel safe?
Her mother would have told her to stop looking a gift horse in the mouth.
Ignoring what was probably very sound advice, Heather plunged ahead.
“I want you to know that I appreciate everything you’ve done.
The gifts, putting together the furniture.
I think I could have finished the dresser, but that crib looked really tough.
Most of all, I appreciate the visits and the conversation.
I hadn’t realized quite how trapped I would feel with a newborn.
You’ve kept me from getting lonely and going stir-crazy. ” She paused, not sure how to continue.
“By your serious tone, I suspect you have more to say,” Jim prompted gently.
She nodded. “This is very strange. Not you, but having you around. We don’t know each other. Who are you and why are you in my life?”
He flashed her a quick smile. “This probably isn’t a good time for my alien-abduction story, right?”
“It would explain certain things, but not in a way designed to make me feel comfortable.”
He leaned forward as if to touch her hand, then stopped himself. Heather suffered through a brief flash of disappointment because she secretly, or maybe not so secretly, wouldn’t have minded if he’d offered a little physical contact.
“When you ask who I am, I’m not sure how to answer,” he said slowly.
“I can give you my life history if that’s what you’re looking for.
As for the reason why I’m in your life—well, that one’s easier.
I admire you, Heather, and I would like us to be friends.
You’re in a tough place at the moment. You’re doing the right thing with your daughter, and I’ve learned that doing the right thing usually means taking a very difficult path.
You don’t have any family here, you don’t have the father of your child to help.
You have friends, but they have other commitments and can’t always be around when you need them.
I’m interested in filling in the gaps, nothing more. ”