A Pregnancy And A Proposal. Mindy Neff

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СКАЧАТЬ wanted to cry but was determined not to. Darcie’s mom smelled of chocolate pudding and love. The kitchen was warm from the oven and stove, yet the furnace kicked on. The house was modest, a narrow duplex with a small front yard, where the kitchen was the hub of the family and the neighbors were a holler away.

      Totally different from the house she and her dad and Mary Beth lived in outside of Princeton. The O’Grady house was large—a hoity-toity upper-class house Robbie Sanders had told her once. It sat on an acre of wooded land surrounded by apple and oak trees and pitch pines.

      Heather decided that she’d trade fancy for homey any day. She liked these comforting arms around her. And truthfully, she was kind of tickled by Grandma Connor. She didn’t want to spoil everything by acting all sad and upset.

      “That’s okay,” she said to Rose. “I’m over it.”

      “Of course you’re not. No one ever gets over losing a mother. But we’ll talk of more happy topics, shall we?”

      “Men are happy topics,” Grandma muttered. “I especially like the ones with tattoos. Your daddy got any of those tattoos?”

      Rose threw up her hands, Darcie choked on a swallow of cake and everyone jumped when there was a loud knock at the door.

      “I’ll get it,” Darcie said, hopping up. Passing her mother, she whispered, “Put a cork in Grandma, would you?”

      “You know she has a mind of her own,” Rose said, not even bothering to lower her voice. “I’ll see if your father can do anything with her. And when are you going to take off that moth-eaten coat?”

      Darcie ignored her mother’s last question, pulled open the door and felt her knees go weak at the sight of Flynn O’Grady. He wore a long black overcoat, dress shoes that probably didn’t have a lot of traction against the icy stoop and a tie decorated with pictures of hot sauce bottles and chili peppers. Mary Beth was cradled in his arms, all bundled up in a furry pink snowsuit.

      “Is she here?” he asked.

      All conversation behind them stopped. She turned and looked at Heather, who went through several emotions at record speed. They flashed across her face like neon on an Atlantic City marquee—relief, elation, love, then suspicion, rebellion and accusation. This last was aimed at Darcie.

      Darcie left Flynn to make his own way inside and went to Heather. The girl stood, backed up. “You told him?”

      “Heather—”

      “I trusted you. How come you called him?”

      “I didn’t call him. I was at Hardware and Muffins when the hot line paged me. That’s where The Daddy Club meets.”

      “So you what, told him everything?”

      “No,” Darcie said softly. “Not everything. But you gave me your name, Heather, your full name, as well as your father’s. If you wanted anonymity you wouldn’t have done that.” The girl was silent, casting furtive glances over Darcie’s shoulder at Flynn. “Would you?” Darcie prompted.

      Heather shrugged. “I guess.” It was her standard noncommittal answer, the underlying meaning lurking beneath the tone.

      Darcie heard the interpretation as though it were a shout.

      “Give him a chance, sweetie. He’s really upset.”

      Heather tried to keep the belligerent look on her face, but she couldn’t. The minute her dad moved toward her, she lost it. A sob escaped and she slipped right into his arms, burrowing into his chest.

      “You scared me half to death, sweetheart.”

      “I was scared, too, Daddy.” She inhaled and hiccuped on a laugh. “You’ve got mushy crackers on your tie. That’s gross.”

      Mary Beth squealed and boinked Heather on the head with drool-slick fingers. The kid should seem like a nuisance. But she wasn’t. Not really. Heather hugged her dad some more, then took the baby from his arms, determined to show her off. This was one of those instances where a baby came in handy. She was a buffer. Plus nobody could resist a little kid. Heather liked the attention the baby brought, even if she sometimes had to take a back seat to her. She could always pretend that it was for her, too.

      Proudly she turned and walked over to Grandma Connor. “This is Mary Beth,” she introduced.

      Grandma ran a wrinkled finger over Mary Beth’s cheek, then turned her eyes onto Heather, reaching out to pat her hair. “You’re a good girl. You do your family proud.” Heather didn’t really understand the praise, but she understood the look. It meant that she was special, and just as important as the baby was.

      “We should be going, Heather,” Flynn said.

      Heather’s stomach dipped. She wasn’t ready to go yet. He didn’t seem mad that she’d run away, but she was pretty sure he was gonna yell when they were alone. Well, he never really yelled, but it felt like it anyway. He’d probably just ground her again, though technically she was already grounded, so that wouldn’t be any big deal.

      Thankfully Darcie’s mother saved the moment.

      “Of course you should not be going! You haven’t had dessert! Did you eat a meal? I could warm up a nice plate of chicken for you.”

      “No, really, I’ve eaten—”

      “Then cake. You’ve not eaten chocolate cake, have you?”

      “No—”

      “Good. Sit. I’ll get you a plate and milk.”

      Darcie was tickled by the look on Flynn’s face as her mother steamrollered him. “Might as well sit,” she said. “You’ll never hear the end of it if you don’t.”

      “Watch your tongue,” Rose admonished.

      Flynn glanced at Darcie just in time to see her lick her lips. His hand tightened on the back of the chair and his movements stilled for a split second.

      To his everlasting horror, the two older ladies honed right in on his pause and the reason for it.

      Flynn felt his ears burn, knew his face was beet red. Man, he hadn’t even been formally introduced to these women, yet they knew that he was thinking erotic thoughts about Darcie’s tongue. It was there in the twinkle of their eyes, in the way they practically tossed a cup of milk and his plate of cake in front of him and scooted Heather and Mary Beth out of the room on some pretense of showing them off to someone called Johnny.

      Chapter Three

      “I take it that was your mom and grandmother?” He sat down and tried to focus on the wedge of chocolate cake in front of him rather than on sexy thoughts of Darcie Moretti.

      “Yes. Rose and Edna.”

      “And Johnny’s your father?”

      “Smart and good-looking, too,” she quipped. “Want me to call them all back for introductions?”

      “Let’s СКАЧАТЬ