Another Man's Baby Page 5

  “There isn’t another shift change until six. I can’t let you sit here for five hours. Come on, you’re coming with me.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  DARCY BLINKED at Garret, surprised by the offer. Go with him where? Finding a place to lie down in the lobby had left her feeling too much like a loser, a cold loser, so she’d dragged her achy body to the cafeteria. It was warmer here and she could sleep sitting up, thank you. “I’m okay here.”

  “No, you’re not.” Garret stood and grabbed her suitcase with his free hand. “I’ll drive you to the motel. It’s not far from here.”

  “You’ve done enough. More than enou—”

  “Darcy? Let me drive you. I’d like to know you’re safe.”

  The words flowed over her, through her, and she found herself fighting back pathetic, exhausted tears. Why not? Debra certainly hadn’t acted all that thrilled at the idea of having to take her.

  Gazing at him, Darcy absorbed all the little details she’d missed during the dark and pain-shrouded trip to the hospital. Details such as the breadth of Garret’s shoulders and the sexy angle of his jawline. She was such a sucker for a strong jawline.

  “What do you say? Road trip?”

  “Thank you. It’s not enough, but thank you—I accept.” With a smile of gratitude, Darcy took the arm Garret extended and let him help her to her feet.

  Maybe white knights did exist. It was just too bad this one had shown up seven months too late.

  GARRET ESCORTED HER to the garage where his SUV was parked.

  “Here we are again.”

  “Here we are,” she repeated, buckling her seat belt and watching in amazement when he gently tugged on it to check it. Cinderella she wasn’t, but she was sure getting the royal treatment. She’d think he was flirting with her if she wasn’t big-as-a-house pregnant. Being that she was, it was easy to rule out romance or anything sexual.

  Unlike the pelting ice that had caused her accident, big fluffy flakes the size of marshmallow tops now floated to the ground with deceptive grace and speed. The houses near the hospital were decorated with a mixture of leftover Christmas lights and early Valentine’s Day decorations. The older homes were layered with gingerbread trim and pretty porches behind yards with thick tree trunks. The odd swing blew crookedly in the wind.

  The farther away from the hospital Garret drove, the more modernized the housing became. Another turn brought them into an area of shops with old-fashioned storefronts. Large, black lampposts stood guard on every corner over benches weighted down with snow, and red fire hydrants poked through drifts to add a splash of color. There was even a striped barber shop sign.

  It was the best of Norman Rockwell.

  Did the townspeople know how precious this all looked? It was a world apart from the glitz and glamour of Miami. Darcy kept her comments to herself and continued her sleepy study of the little mountain town. Finally Garret braked outside a motel with a cottage-style facade. The Hideaway Inn. Of course. She only hoped she could afford it.

  “Here we are.” He got out and grabbed her suitcase, then escorted her to the door with a solid grip on her arm.

  Inside a small anteroom, Darcy shivered and wrinkled her nose at the heavy cinnamon fragrance clouding the air. She loved scents and their healing properties, but this was overkill. No doubt an attempt to diffuse the odor of mold making her nose twitch with a sneeze.

  Garret rang the bell attached to the wall. No response. Showing the first signs of impatience, Garret hit the bell a couple more times. Finally a light turned on from the other side of a curtained enclosure beyond the reinforced glass entry doors. A buzz sounded and the small speaker beside the bell squawked.

  “Sorry. No rooms.”

  “The sign says Vacancy.” Garret growled the words in his deep, ultrasexy voice, and Darcy felt like the biggest pain in all the world.

  “The ‘no’ is busted and I forgot to turn the darn thing off. Try after the snow lets up.” With that suggestion, the light went out and all was silent.

  Garret scowled. “Come on. The Station House isn’t far. We’ll try there.”

  Back to the vehicle they went and Darcy gasped when the bitter cold hit her face. “I’m sorry for all the trouble.”

  “It’s no problem.”

  She had to wait until Garret crossed in front of the vehicle and climbed in to continue their conversation. “Just take me back to the hospital. It’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine,” he murmured firmly. “You need a place to rest. Relax, we’ll find you something.”

  The Station House wound up being a remodeled railroad depot that boasted room service and a restaurant. The cars parked outside were newer models than those of the first motel they’d tried, which meant her credit card would take a harder hit. Still, Garret was right. She was desperate for a place to lie down. She’d never felt this tired, so much so she was starting to nod off beside her handsome driver. How embarrassing. The way her night had gone, she’d fall asleep and drool all over herself.

  “Stay here and let me check it out, okay?”

  Darcy nodded, willing to let him brave the weather even though she felt guilty for doing so. “Thank you.”

  Garret flashed her a gorgeous smile and left the vehicle, his shoulders hunched in deference to the cold. She shivered from the influx of cold air and cranked up the heat. It was good of him to let her stay here. A lot of men would worry that the stranger they’d helped would drive off in the expensive Cadi.

  She huddled deeper into her seat and frowned at an ad for the radio station’s upcoming Valentine’s Day contest. There’d be no roses for her this year. No candy or jewelry or candlelight dinners. But that was okay. She’d learned the hard way that flowers and candy didn’t make the man. And they most certainly did not make him father material.

  Drowsy, she rubbed her belly. “I love you, Annabelle. I hope it’s enough.”

  GARRET SCOWLED at the twentysomething kid in front of him. “You have nothing available?”

  “Nope.”

  “I’ll make it worth your while. She’s pregnant and stranded and she was just released from the hospital. Don’t you have a sitting room or something?”

  “No, man. Sorry.” The guy grinned, and a crackly laugh emerged. “Weird, huh? You know, no room at the inn?” He sobered when he realized Garret wasn’t amused. “Um…look, there’s nothing here. This storm caught a lot of people by surprise. We’re full and then some.” He glanced behind him, then leaned forward across the counter. “We’re not supposed to recommend anyplace else, but have you tried the motel on Route 9?”

  “Call them,” Garret ordered. “Call them right now and find out if there’s a room available. Tell them we’ll take anything.”

  The guy gave him a leery, you’re-going-to-get-me-in-trouble glare, but did his bidding. Garret paced in front of the counter and blatantly listened to the one-sided conversation. Finally the guy hung up. “Um…nothing, man—uh, sir. Sorry.”

  Jaw locked, Garret stalked out of the lobby. There wasn’t a hotel closet left for Darcy to stay in. Scowling, he climbed into the Escalade only to hesitate when he realized Darcy was sleeping so soundly she hadn’t heard him.

  He quietly closed the door, free to study her without being observed. She was certainly attractive, but the symmetry of her features was off. Her nose was a little large for her face, her top lip as full as the bottom. Put together, there was nothing awe inspiring about her appearance. Nothing to make him feel so…curious?

  He shook his head at himself. Who was it that said if you rescued someone you were responsible for them?

  Garret drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. Snow blanketed the windshield despite the frequent swipe of the wipers. They had to get to wherever they were going or be stranded. But there was no way he could leave her sitting in the lobby of some hotel at two o’clock in the morning.

  Frowning, he checked her seat belt once more and put the vehicle in Reverse. Someone had to take care of
Darcy and her baby. And right now it looked as though that someone was him.

  SHE WAS IN A BOAT, sun-warmed air blowing on her face, the chop of the waves slapping against the hull, the radio playing eighties hits by rockers with big hair.

  A jolt startled her and Darcy blinked, drowsily surveying her surroundings and wondering why the GPS looked different than she remembered. With a start, it all came back. The wind was a heater cranked full blast, the waves dirt-and sand-encrusted sludge hitting the undercarriage of the SUV.

  You expected something else?

  Not really. She hadn’t been on a boat since the last time Stephen had taken her out and they’d made love beneath the stars.

  You made love, he had sex. Big difference.

  The SUV slowed for Garret to make a turn. A garage door opened ahead of them and they pulled inside to park beside a Land Cruiser. She lifted her head.

  “Hey. You were out the whole way.”

  “Obviously.” The last thing she remembered was sitting outside the Station House. And now they were where? “This doesn’t look like a hotel.” She eyed the pricey-looking bicycle hanging on the wall in front of them.

  “Because it’s not.” Garret released a heavy sigh and turned toward her. “Look, Darcy, the Station House didn’t have any rooms. I had the night manager call the last motel near here and they were full, as well. So I brought you home with me.”

  Home? As in his home?

  Garret tilted his head to the side and held both hands up, palms open. “I’m not a pervert or a rapist. And even though you could be an ax murderer, I’m going to take a chance and let you stay here for the night because I don’t know what else to do.”

  He was exhausted. One glance into his weary gaze told her that. While she’d been dozing, he’d battled the elements to get them to safety and with no where else to take her—

  “I’ll sleep on the couch and you can have my bedroom. It has a lock on the door and I’ll even give you a baseball bat if it makes you feel better, but honestly, you have nothing to worry about from me. Or Ethan.”

  That startled her. “Ethan?”

  “My older brother lives here, too. I’ll introduce you in the morning. He’s completely safe. What do you say?”

  What could she say? They were here and the thought of a bed compared to a booth in the hospital cafeteria was too tempting to resist. “Where’s that bat?”

  In response, Garret winked, then got out and grabbed their cases before leading the way into the house. Darcy followed him down a short hallway past a utility room, the kitchen and living room beyond.

  “The bedroom is that way, first door on the right. Let me find some sheets and I’ll change the bed for you.”

  “I’ll do it.” Her voice emerged scratchy so she cleared her throat and tried again. “I don’t want you to go to any more trouble than you already have.”

  The melted snow left little diamond drops of water in his dark hair. They sparkled beneath the light.

  “We’ll change them together.”

  Garret left his briefcase near the couch and carried her suitcase into the bedroom. Within moments he located fresh sheets and they silently made up the bed together. The act was strangely intimate and brought a blush to her cheeks.

  “Done. I’ll get out of here so you can rest.”

  He grabbed some workout pants from a drawer and his toothbrush from the attached bath, then made one final trip into a walk-in closet where he retrieved a baseball bat. He held it out to her, and when she lifted a hand to accept it, he placed his free hand over hers.

  “Sweet dreams, Darcy. To you and Butch both.” He lowered his gaze to her stomach quickly before glancing back up and smiling at her, the look soft and sexy. Her heart raced and lost its rhythm. The feel of his touch, the expression on his face. The man was lethal. Letting go, Garret paused to lock the door on the way out.

  She yawned as she donned her cold pajamas in the bathroom, brushed her teeth and climbed into bed, the bat propped within easy reach. The fresh scent of detergent and fabric softener smelled heavenly, but it was the other, more intriguing scent of Garret’s cologne that had her pressing her nose into the pillow.

  She slowly relaxed, amazed that the store-bought scent combined so well with the essential oils she’d rubbed on her neck earlier. Within moments she slipped into a cozy, dreamy state.

  “So, Butch,” she murmured, her hands on her belly, “what do you think? Is he for real?”

  A firm, solid kick was her response—that and the sudden, urgent need to pee.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  GARRET HAD JUST SET a skillet on the stove when he heard his bedroom door open. “In the kitchen!”

  Darcy walked in bellyfirst, dressed in a brown velour track suit that matched her eyes and a blue T-shirt with a sparkly design on the front. Her curls were bouncy and shower fresh, her appearance alert although still more than a bit tired.

  A rosy blush bloomed on her cheeks when she saw him. “Um…good morning.” The color on her face deepened to a fiery pink. “I’m sorry I slept so late. You probably needed something from your room.”

  “I only just got moving myself. Did you sleep well?” He winced at the inane question. Anything was better than a hospital cafeteria.

  “Yeah, I did. Thanks for lending me your room.” Darcy stepped deeper into the kitchen. With a silent, sweeping glance she took in the black granite countertops, the sleek cabinets and stainless steel appliances. “This is nice.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I didn’t see your brother. Is he still asleep?”

  “Ethan’s the surgeon on call this weekend. He left for work about five o’clock this morning because of an accident.”

  Darcy pursed her full lips at the news, the move making him want to lean over and brush his mouth across hers to ease the tension. Shock clenched his gut into a knot. Turning until he had his back to her, he planted his feet and swore softly. What was wrong with him? What was he doing? Thinking?

  That her mouth would make any man want to kiss it?

  “Did you burn yourself?”

  “No.” He waved the spatula. “Just forgot how to cook.” Had the stress of his job pushed him off the deep end? Darcy was pregnant. Beyond the baby she carried and the complications that came with it, what about Joss? Harry? One wrong move would screw up everything.

  “I hate to trouble you again, but I’ve got my stuff packed up. If you wouldn’t mind giving me a ride to the garage to arrange things with Nick, I’ll get out of your hair. I can take a cab to one of the motels from there.”

  Without uttering a word that might reveal his stupefying interest, Garret pointed the spatula toward the window. “Have you looked outside today?”

  Darcy gasped. “It’s still snowing?”

  “Hasn’t stopped all night. And—” he had to stop and inhale “—it’s not supposed to clear up until tomorrow afternoon.” Meaning they were snowbound for the next thirty-six hours—maybe more depending on the road conditions.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She released a low, throaty groan. “I had no idea. I got up and saw how late it was and didn’t even look out the window. I was hoping to get my car towed and find a room at one of the motels…”

  Garret cracked an egg and muttered when there were more shells in the bowl than yolk. He set that one aside and grabbed another from the cabinet. “The whole town is shut down because of the storm. No one’s going anywhere right now.”

  “But, Garret, I can’t stay. We’re strangers and I can’t impose on you.”

  Strangers? Maybe, but it didn’t seem that way. “I don’t qualify as a friend?”

  “Of course you do.” Darcy’s expression softened, her coffee-colored eyes filled with regret and wry amusement as she glanced over her shoulder at him, the light from the window turning her hair into an angel’s halo. “But I wouldn’t blame you if you wished you’d never stopped to help me.”

  This was a test. It had to be. He’d dragged his
feet where Joss and commitment were concerned and now he was being tested. He faced a snowy weekend alone with a pretty woman who tempted him to think about her mouth.

  He forced the direction of his thoughts into a U-turn. He wouldn’t treat Darcy the way the baby’s father obviously had. Nor would he subject Joss to the hurt that stemmed from betrayal. How had one simple act of kindness become so complicated?

  Things are only as complicated as you let them get.

  He watched Darcy nibble her lower lip. She was a worrier. The baby, the wreck, the snow and getting to wherever it was in Indiana she was going. The best thing for him to do was make things here as uncomplicated as possible for them both.

  Drawn even though he warned himself to keep his distance, he moved to stand behind her and stare out at the snow. “I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d left you sitting by the side of the road last night, Darcy. Just like I couldn’t have left you sitting in the cafeteria. I’d do it again without question. Stop worrying.” He managed a strained chuckle and backed away when the smell of her made him want to step closer. “Admit it, you slept a lot better in my bed.”

  The image of which was now firmly ensconced in his head. He scraped a hand over his face, picturing her warm and drowsy, the two of them spooning.

  “You know I did.”

  He had to clear his throat to speak. “So, we’ll make the best of the situation until the roads clear up.” And he’d keep his distance, ignore the scent of her that drew him like a bee to a flower and—

  See if I pass the test.

  JOCELYN PIERSON SHIVERED as she pulled her keys from her pocket to let herself into the back door of her dream-come-true. Her art gallery was the bane of her father’s existence. It was scheduled to open in a couple months—albeit later than she’d hoped, thanks to a series of delays—and she was extraordinarily proud of her achievement. Not bad for someone with “a soft little brain and poor judgment” according to her father.