Secrets Of An Old Flame. Jill Limber

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ headed downstairs, intent on finally getting acquainted with his son. The words still blew him away. His son. He wondered if he would ever get used to saying them, feeling the little burst of pride.

      Michael still slept peacefully in the stroller by the front door. Joe unfastened the belt securing him and lifted his warm, relaxed body into his arms. The baby startled, opened his eyes, then quickly settled back to sleep.

      He’d held his nieces and nephews when they were this small, but they had never felt so precious in his arms.

      Joe carried the baby into the living room and settled on the couch. He laid the baby on his lap, Michael’s head at Joe’s knees.

      Joe unzipped the bulky fuzzy suit and peeled it off the sleeping child much the way he had just undressed Nikki, gently, so as not to disturb his slumber. He tossed the garment on the couch beside him and looked at his son, dressed in a tiny shirt and a diaper. His small arms hung limply at his sides, and his legs were drawn up.

      With one finger that looked rough and brown against the baby’s fair, smooth skin, Joe hooked a tiny foot and marveled at the perfect toes and tiny toenails.

      He didn’t know exactly how old the child was. He didn’t know his own son’s birth date. He tamped down a spurt of anger. Missing out on Michael’s first months of life riled him. What right did Nikki think she had to keep the information about the baby to herself?

      Did she think he wouldn’t believe her? They had both used birth control, but one look at this baby had told him all he needed to know. No DNA test was needed to identify Michael as a Galtero.

      A Galtero. Part of him. Emotions welled up as he scooped the baby up against his chest and Michael nestled in against Joe’s heart.

      The baby was his.

      Galtero looks ran strong in the family. Auntie Rosie had baby pictures of Joe, his siblings and cousins. This baby looked like every other child on Auntie Rosie’s mantel.

      How much had he already missed of his son’s life?

      Michael stirred and Joe lowered the baby back to his lap. The baby opened his eyes. He blinked and stared at Joe, seeming to study his face.

      Joe smiled at the solemn little features and his son rewarded him with a toothless grin, then a frothing of spit bubbles and a wild waving of his little fists.

      “Well, aren’t you talented?”

      Michael stilled at the sound of Joe’s voice and then chortled a reply.

      Joe discovered what love at first sight felt like. A warmth of feelings spread and grew in his chest.

      “Michael, I’m going to make a promise to you right now.”

      Michael stopped waving his little hands.

      “You have my vow that no matter what happens between your mother and I, I will always be there for you.”

      Joe scooped his son up, cradling his tiny head in his palms, and kissed his forehead. Michael made a grab for Joe’s ear.

      The touch of those small fingers went straight to Joe’s heart.

      Chapter 4

      Nikki awoke slowly in the darkened room. Her mouth felt like she’d been chewing on cotton balls. Still groggy from the medication, she rolled to her side and stared into the playpen. Seeing it empty, a spurt of panic bloomed in her chest. Then she remembered coming home with a migraine. And Joe.

      He had been so caring and gentle with her. He made her want to fall back to the habit of depending on him, and she couldn’t let that happen. Never again would she trust him after the way he’d used her.

      She had her reasons not to depend on Joe, but she had no doubts Joe would take very good care of their son.

      Their son.

      She turned onto her back and picked the cold lump of washcloth off her pillow. It was the first time she had ever considered sharing Michael. The thought unsettled her. She didn’t want to think about giving up time with her baby to someone else.

      Nikki propped herself up on one elbow. She needed to pull herself together. Then she wouldn’t be tempted to let him back into her life.

      Her first move would be to sell what she could and raise some cash. While she was doing that she had to figure out a way to get Joe out of her house and out of her life. This day-to-day living with him was not going to work.

      She needed to do an inventory and get things organized while she waited to hear from Mr. Carey, but right now there were more pressing matters. The dim light showing through the crack between the drapes told her it must be early evening. Michael hadn’t eaten since the bus ride home hours ago. She could tell by the ache in her full breasts it was way past his feeding time.

      She swung her feet over the side of the bed and sat quietly while she tried to orient herself, wiping away the crust of salt the tears had left behind.

      She remembered Joe coming to check on her at least twice.

      She cringed when she thought about throwing up in front of him in the guest bathroom. Just the fact that it bothered her he had seen her at her worst meant trouble. She was still attracted to him and didn’t want to be.

      Why should she care what he thought? Whatever she’d thought was developing between them a year ago was over. He’d used her vulnerability when she’d needed him the most. She’d never trust him with her heart again.

      She had to admit it was wonderful to have someone take over when she had a headache. Rarely did she have the luxury of sleeping away the pain since Michael’s birth.

      She always had a strange hollowed-out feeling after one of the headaches passed. She made her way carefully to the bathroom, walking gingerly, like someone who had been confined to bed with a long illness.

      She washed her face and combed her hair. It always surprised her how bad she looked after one of her headaches. Out of habit she started to reach for her makeup bag, then pushed it away. She wouldn’t make herself attractive for him.

      She shimmied out of her slip, pulled on fresh panties and a pair of old soft knit pants, thick socks and a worn college sweatshirt.

      As she made her way down the back staircase, she heard the television on in the den beyond the kitchen. She paused as she heard his voice.

      Who was he talking to? She peeked into the room and saw Joe on the couch, Michael propped on his lap, his back against Joe’s chest. Joe anchored him in place with one big hand. Both of them seemed intent on a football game on the television. Their profiles were identical. Michael would grow up to look like Joe.

      Her son would be a handsome man, but he would be a constant reminder of his father. Nikki wondered if Michael’s looks would be a blessing or a curse for her.

      She stood quietly in the doorway, watching the two of them.

      Joe had changed into a polo shirt and jeans. He looked good in casual clothes. His knit shirt fit loosely, only showing a hint of the strong muscles of his shoulders and chest.

      Joe СКАЧАТЬ