Instant Dad. Raye Morgan

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СКАЧАТЬ didn’t get your name,” she noted as she returned to him.

      “Drey Angeli,” he said, glancing down at the small, slim hand she held out before taking it in his own. Her grip was firm but her hand felt as soft and elegant as it looked.

      “I guess you know I’m Sara Parker,” she said. “I’m so glad you’ve come so promptly.”

      He raised one eyebrow, wondering why she was treating him like his sixth-grade schoolteacher, the one who always corrected his grammar and held him after school for being a smart aleck. Instinctively he knew she did it on purpose. But what that purpose was, he couldn’t imagine.

      “Follow me,” she said crisply, turning to lead him through the foyer. “I’ll show you where I’m going to need the work done.”

      He followed her, noting the way her every movement seemed to be according to some careful plan. Her step was quick and light and very determined, and when she started up the stairs in front of him, he couldn’t keep from watching the nice way her bottom swayed in the pink cashmere skirt, and something about that experience made him study her face when she reached the top and turned to wait for him.

      His first impression had been of her coldness, but now that he gave her a second look, he realized she was quite pretty. Her features were small and fine as porcelain, her skin smooth, her eyes a brilliant, starburst blue set off by thick black lashes. He had the sudden picture of a ballerina in his mind, an oldfashioned dancer mincing in toe shoes with her arms raised in position.

      “This way,” she told him, turning and leading him into a room off the hallway.

      He followed her, only half listening while she detailed the new closet space she wanted in the guest bedroom. He was studying the room for evidence. Just what sort of woman was Sara Parker?

      She was certainly a contrast to her sister, but then, he’d already known that, hadn’t he? Jenny had told him so.

      “She’s not like the rest of our family,” Jenny had told him one night over drinks at a lodge at the lake. “When we were kids, we called her Stuck-up Sara. Do you know she actually packaged her dolls in plastic wrap and buried them in the backyard so the rest of us wouldn’t play with them?”

      Drey remembered gazing at Jenny that evening, bemused, wondering why her voice was trembling with annoyance so many years later.

      “And when we were teenagers, forget it. She kept her side of the room roped off so I wouldn’t touch her things, and she taped hairs to her dresser drawers so she could tell when I went through them.” Jenny’s pretty heart-shaped face flushed. “We didn’t get along.”

      No, he could see that Jenny would have a hard time getting along with this exquisite creature. Jenny was casual about clothes, plans, men. She was open and generous and free spirited—but she was also careless and petulant at times. Sara Parker didn’t seem to be any of the above.

      Everything about her was careful; everything matched, from her fingernail polish to her creamy lipstick to the pink cloisonné comb that held her silver blond hair in place.

      She cares too much, he thought to himself. Wasn’t that a sign of some sort of neurosis?

      “Now down here,” she said, leading him to another room down the hall. “Here is the nursery. I’m going to need new shelves and a set of waist-high cabinets. I’d like to install a changing table here, as well.”

      He nodded. “Do you have any children?” he asked, wondering if Jenny’s baby was going to be an only child.

      “Not yet.” She actually smiled. “But I’m about to have a baby.”

      “Really?” He knew she was expecting him to glance at her flat stomach in surprise, so he did. “Not anytime soon.”

      “Yes. Very soon. Sometime in the next two weeks, in fact.” She laughed softly and her starry eyes seemed to melt into pools of silver. “I’m adopting.”

      He waited a moment but she didn’t say it. He knew she was adopting her sister’s baby. Why not mention that? Why not talk about the fact that this was Jenny’s baby? Or was that some sort of secret she was keeping?

      But she didn’t mention it. Instead, she gave him a smile that startled him. “You don’t know how much I appreciate you showing up,” she said. “You’re the only one. I’ve called an electrician, a landscaper and a pool maintenance man and you’re the only one who came when you said you would.”

      He frowned, a defense against the smile. He didn’t want to like her.

      “You’ve filled your pool already?” he noted, looking out the window at the forest behind the house. “Isn’t it a bit early?”

      “Oh, I don’t think so.” She turned slowly, looking the room over as if to make sure she wasn’t forgetting to tell him anything about the job. “The weather has been so warm. And I need it filled. It looks so much better that way and I’m having a party next week. A baby shower. I need everything to look perfect.”

      Perfect. Yeah, that was what she wanted. It showed.

      “I’ll bet you ten to one we get another snowstorm before the season’s over,” he said, trying to burst her bubble.

      But she was having none of it. Shaking her head, she smiled at him again. “No, absolutely not. No snowstorm. Spring is here.”

      She walked over to her window and gestured out into her backyard where birds were chirping in the trees. “Look at all those birds. Would they be here if snow was coming?”

      He followed her, then stood by her side, looking down. There were birds all right. Flocks of them. “You think birds have an inside track on the weather?” he grumbled.

      “No, not really.” She frowned, considering, and he noticed her delicate eyebrows. She didn’t pluck them. She didn’t have to. They were perfect.

      “But are you trying to tell me there’s no order in the universe?” she asked him, sighing softly. “That it’s all anarchy?” Her eyes clouded.

      He felt a twinge of remorse. It was pretty obvious she needed order to feel secure. There was no reason to be so churlish, he supposed. She hadn’t done anything to him. Not yet, anyway.

      “I wouldn’t go that far,” he admitted gruffly. “But I don’t think birds know all that much more than we do about it.”

      She was still staring at him as though she were hoping to find some kind of answer in his eyes, and he moved uncomfortably, trying to avoid her gaze but unable to look away himself.

      “They have instincts,” she said as though she’d just thought of it.

      He shrugged. Why did this seem to be so important to her? “So do we,” he muttered, tearing his gaze away and scowling out the window.

      She laughed softly, turning away, as well. “You’re right I’m sorry. I get carried away with these things sometimes.”

      Afraid that she’d embarrassed him by getting a little too familiar, she glanced back. He was still frowning. His face, the set of his shoulders, everything said don’t tread on СКАЧАТЬ