The Christmas Baby. Lisa Carter

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       Chapter Three

      Dusk fell as Ryan hauled the last box up the rickety, wooden steps into the run-down trailer. He placed the box on the peeling kitchen countertop. No wonder Anna hadn’t wanted her brother out here.

      She raised her palm before he could speak. “It was cheap. It was furnished. It’s temporary and not any of your business.”

      “You can’t stay here, Anna. The steps are an accident waiting to happen.”

      She folded her arms. “I’ll be fine.”

      “And that car you got as a high school graduation present is on its last legs. I can’t believe you drove from Texas in that bucket of bolts.”

      “My car is fine.”

      “You and I both know that at the crack of dawn, your brother is going to pay you a visit. And then he’s going to drag you out of here if he has to put you under house arrest—his house—to do it.”

      In her defiant brown eyes, for a second he glimpsed the take-no-sass girl raised in a houseful of boys. “He can try.”

      She wasn’t the only one who could do stubborn. “I’m fixing the steps, Anna.”

      “I’ll fix the steps myself.”

      He planted his hands on his hips. “Can you see your feet, Anna, much less crawl under the porch?”

      She rocked back. Wrong thing to say to a pregnant woman.

      “I didn’t mean that the way—” But she sidestepped his outstretched hand.

      Frustration bubbled at her mile-wide independent streak. “I can’t in good conscience let you get hurt on those steps.”

      “Conscience’s sake? Is that why you’re here?” Her lips flattened. “What am I, Ryan, this year’s Christmas project?”

      He moved around the kitchen island toward her. “Absolutely not.”

      She pressed her spine against the speckled counter. “Knock yourself out then. Don’t let me stop you.”

      “Anna, I just—”

      “By all means do what you have to do so you can sleep at night.” She inched past him, not an easy feat with the lack of square footage in the tiny galley kitchen.

      As for the electric spark when he touched her hand on Charlie’s porch? He clamped down on his jaw.

      Friends. They were friends. He drilled it into his brain. Just friends.

      Retrieving the toolbox from the trunk of his car, he did what he could in the fading light to make the hand railing more secure. The steps needed a total overhaul. But in the meantime...

      Poking her head out the door, Anna flicked a switch inside the house. An exterior light blinked to feeble life.

      He glanced up. “I’m done for the night.”

      “Thank you, Ryan. Don’t let me keep you from...” She fluttered her hand in the general direction of the mainland United States. “Wherever you go in the evenings.”

      “From my wife and kids, you mean?”

      The strangest look crossed her face, so quickly he almost believed he imagined it. “I didn’t realize you had a wife and children.”

      “I don’t.”

      “Oh.” She moistened her bottom lip with her tongue. “Good.”

      He cocked his head. “Good I don’t have a wife and kids?”

      “Yes—no...” She reddened. “I mean, good that I’m not keeping you from anything. Like supper.” She cleared her throat. “I should pay you.”

      He frowned. “I don’t want you to pay me.”

      Earning him a mulish look.

      “On second thought, maybe you are keeping me from my supper.” He chucked the hammer. It clattered into the metallic toolbox. “And since you have to eat, too, we might as well keep each other company.”

      She stiffened. “Why?”

      He leaned against the railing, testing his weight against it. “You need to eat. I need to eat.” He glanced at her basketball-size belly. “The baby needs for you to eat. And there’s something else you can keep me from.”

      She rested her hand on top of her stomach. “What’s that?”

      “You can keep me from another Friday night of eating alone.” He grinned at her. “Dinner will give us a chance to catch up.”

      “Long time no see?”

      “Our Christmas reunion. A lot has happened since we last saw each other.”

      “No kidding.” Her gaze fell to the wooden steps. “I’m sorry about your dad, Ryan.” She dropped her hand to her side. “Mateo was going through chemo and...”

      “We lost touch. No problem. Dinner?”

      Her lashes feathered her skin. “I never could say no to you.”

      Which wasn’t how he remembered high school. Though more often than СКАЧАТЬ