The Daddy Plan

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 snowy for them to stay out long and within fifteen minutes, they were all getting ready for bed.

“How about cookies and hot chocolate?” he asked her now, looking like a kid who knew better but wanted to have a treat anyway.

“We really won’t get any sleep.”

“No, but our sweet tooth will be satisfied and I bet your stomach will stop growling.”

The room was warming already. Letting the blanket fall, she stood. She hadn’t taken off her socks. She felt a bit ridiculous with his shirt on, which stopped just below her knees, and her knee socks which came up to her shins.

“I’ll help you.”

In the small kitchen, they couldn’t turn around without bumping hips, rubbing elbows or standing practically toe to toe. She put two mugs of water in the microwave while he pulled the bag of cookies from the back of the cupboard.

The silence between them grew too full of everything they were both thinking and not saying. Corrie asked, “Did you really come out here to stoke up the stove?”

“I knew the cabin would get cold if I didn’t, but…My mind won’t stop circling around what you asked me. I mean, it’s not like I’m dating you and one night foolishly we’re not protected and suddenly we’re having a baby. That’s altogether different from what you’re planning.”

“Don’t you see, Sam, this is so much better than the scenario you just described? We’re both deciding if this is what we want. We’re planning. If you were to tell me you don’t want to be involved at all, that would be fine. I’ll take full responsibility for this baby. That’s what I want.”

He studied her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable.

“What?”

“I don’t understand why you’re so set on taking this on alone.”

“Alone isn’t so bad. Alone, I don’t have anyone else to answer to. Alone, I can make decisions for my child based on what I think’s best. Alone, I don’t have to worry about what someone else is going to do or say or think.”

“Where does your independence come from, Corrie? What happened to you?”

His question took her aback and she couldn’t just laugh it off. But she couldn’t confide in him, either. They didn’t know each other that well. “I told you, my mom and dad divorced.”

“There’s more to it than that. You’re a caregiver. You don’t hesitate to jump in and take care of a sick animal, to keep someone like Shirley company when she was lonely. What made you this way?”

If she clammed up and shut down, Sam would just turn away from her request as if it was a whim on her part. After thinking about Sam’s question, she finally answered, “When my dad left, my mom and I took care of each other. She was a very loving person and didn’t hesitate to help someone else when she could. I guess I just picked up on that. When she got sick—” She hadn’t meant to say that. She hadn’t meant to go into that.

The microwave beeped and she was glad for the interruption. Turning, she took the mugs of hot water from the small oven.

But Sam was right there, snagging the mugs from her, setting them on the counter. He towered over her while his bare skin, his male scent and his muscled arms seemed to surround her. “When did your mother get sick?”

“Oh, Sam. I don’t really want to—”

He clasped her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. “Tell me.”

“I had graduated from college and was in my second year of veterinary school when she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She had no one but me. So I quit school to move back home and take care of her.”

“That’s why you didn’t finish?”

Corrie nodded, a huge lump in her throat, not because she had to quit school, but because she still missed her mother. She could feel the heat of Sam’s hands through his flannel shirt. She wanted to reach out and touch the stubble on his jaw. She wanted to let him hold her until his strength became hers and the missing and the loneliness went away.

“Why didn’t you go back?”

She remembered how her mother wouldn’t take any help from her father. They had both cut him out of their lives because he’d hurt them so badly. When a girl saw her dad with another woman, when he seemed to care more about that woman than about being a father and a husband, the pain of rejection cut deep. He’d made halfhearted attempts to see Corrie after he and her mother divorced, but Corrie hadn’t wanted to see him. The visits had been too awkward because Corrie had just wanted him to go away. Except, she really hadn’t. She’d just wanted her dad back—the dad he’d been before she’d caught him with a woman who wasn’t her mother.

“I didn’t go back to school because I’d used up my money paying for nursing care for Mom. I’m saving again. I’m still hoping to finish.”

“And if you have a baby?”

“I don’t have all the answers yet, Sam, but having a baby doesn’t mean I can’t finish school some day.”

He released her shoulders and stepped away, putting more than physical distance between them. “Better mix in the chocolate or the water will get cold.”