The Daddy Plan. Karen Smith Rose

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СКАЧАТЬ his face that she couldn’t read. It looked like sadness. Maybe something even deeper than sadness. “I think you’ll be good at it.”

      His words should give her confidence. They were a compliment. But she sensed something was troubling him and she didn’t know what it was. She wasn’t sure they knew each other well enough for him to confide in her. Did his thoughts have something to do with Alicia? Promises they’d made…hopes they’d had?

      She’d come to Sam because he had so many qualities she admired—compassion and gentleness at the top of the list. He really was wonderful with his nephew and seemed to like children as much as animals. That’s why she’d imagined he might be open to this idea.

      Suddenly Sam muttered in a low voice, “Being a mother is a twenty-four-hour-a-day job.”

      She sank back on her heels and let Jasper run off with Patches. “I know that.”

      “Some women don’t realize how much of a commitment that is. I guess that’s why they get depressed after they have a baby.”

      “I know how much of a commitment motherhood is. I watched my mom raise me by herself after my dad divorced her. I know firsthand what being a single parent is all about.” She also knew what betrayal was all about and infidelity and a man’s inability to keep the most important promise he’d ever made. When she looked at Sam and felt a pull toward him, she had to remember that. She had to remember that attraction didn’t go very far, and neither did the first couple of years of wedded bliss. All she had to do was envision her mother’s tears and she could separate Sam the father to be, from Sam the attractive hunk.

      “My parents divorced, too,” Sam admitted. “But my dad raised us. My mother walked out because she wanted other things. Having a family was a commitment that took too much out of her. I guess what I’m saying, Corrie, is that you have to be absolutely sure about this, sure it’s what you want. If you make this decision, you can never go back.”

      “I’m not impulsive, Sam,” she argued, while at the same time realizing how hurt Sam must have been by his mother leaving.

      He came a few steps closer to her. “It’s just with this, the idea might be a lot more rewarding than the actual reality. Having a baby isn’t easy and raising one is even harder.”

      “I can’t let fear hold me back from doing something I’ve wanted my entire adult life. Sure, I love animals, but I want kids, Sam.”

      His brows quirked up. “Kids?”

      She sighed. “I’ll start with one then go from there.”

      “Do you know how much it costs to raise a child nowadays?”

      She put her hand up in front of her and almost touched his chest. Almost. “Stop! Just stop. I didn’t come here to ask your permission to have a child. Whether you’re willing to donate your sperm or not, I’m going to do this. It’s not a debate, it’s a dream I’m going to make come true.” She rarely showed her temper to Sam, if ever, but he was making her mad—as if he knew best…as if he were so much more experienced.

      Although she thought he might back away, he didn’t. He studied her with his steady brown eyes and she felt all trembly inside. She just wanted his sperm. She didn’t want to feel…attracted. She didn’t even want to think about them parenting together. She knew she couldn’t count on Sam, just as she couldn’t count on any male. She’d thought he’d be good father material, but who actually knew? She was going to be the constant in her child’s life. She was going to make the important decisions. If Sam was the father, well, she’d just see how much he’d stick around. But the bottom line was, she didn’t expect him to.

      Because looking into Sam’s eyes gave her an almost breathless feeling, she snatched up his shirt from the sofa. “I’ll change.”

      His smile was mischievous. “Don’t you want supper before you turn in?”

      She felt like a fool. “I’m really not hungry. I’ll change and then just curl up on the sofa.” Under the afghan. So Sam’s eyes on her wouldn’t make her feel self-conscious.

      Sam nodded to his bedroom. “You can sleep in there if you’d like, but it will be warmer out here if I keep the stove stoked. The sofa’s lumpy—”

      “The sofa will be great.”

      He looked amused again. “It’s your choice.”

      She’d rather be warm than sleep in Sam’s bedroom. If she slept in Sam’s bedroom, she knew exactly what scenes would invade her dreams. She wanted no part of imagining him in bed with her. The reality of Sam Barclay was much different than daydream musings she might have entertained while working for him. She wanted to have his baby but in a nonpersonal way.

      Getting personally involved with Sam would be much too dangerous to her heart.

       Chapter Two

      The door to Sam’s bedroom opened.

      Corrie sat up, keenly aware of his presence.

      “Getting cold?” he asked, his gaze taking in her tumbled curls.

      “A little.” He wasn’t wearing a shirt, just gray sweat pants. Her eyes followed the curly path of his chest hair down to the drawstring. She jerked her gaze up to his eyes again.

      In the hushed shadows of night and the silence broken only by the snores of the dogs cuddled in the dog bed beside the sofa, something primitive and powerful vibrated between her and Sam. Because it was the middle of the night? Because he was shirtless? Because she thought he was the sexiest man she had ever known?

      Breaking the spell, he turned away from her and went to the fireplace. “I’ll have this stoked up again in a minute.”

      She couldn’t unglue her gaze from his bare back, his muscled arms and shoulders. “Do you cut your own firewood?”

      “Whoever uses the stove has to replace what they burn. So, yes, I’ve been using and replacing since I’ve been here. Why? Are you interested in learning how to split logs?” He glanced over his shoulder at her and his smile was teasing.

      “Hardly. I probably couldn’t even handle the ax.”

      “I know for a fact you’re stronger than you look. You lifted Mr. Huff’s basset hound. He had to weigh fifty pounds.”

      After Sam closed the door to the woodstove insert in the fireplace, he brushed his hands against his thighs.

      Corrie’s stomach grumbled and Sam heard it. “You’ve got to be hungry. You hardly ate any supper.”

      That’s because she’d felt like an idiot. After she’d taken Sam’s shirt and changed in the bathroom, she’d returned to the living room realizing the darkness outside didn’t mean it was time for bed. She’d been so rattled by their conversation and just being alone with him, that she’d forgotten all sense of time and place. He’d warmed cans of soup. Wrapped in the blanket on the sofa, she’d eaten some, just praying the hours would pass quickly.

      While she’d leafed through magazines, Sam had worked at his laptop. Later he’d insisted he take the dogs out. It had been too cold and too СКАЧАТЬ