Daddy By Surprise

“It’s good to know you’ll be living here with my daughter,” Gloria Shipman said, her approving gaze roaming his tall frame. “Not that this is a bad neighborhood, but a woman alone can’t be too careful.” Her smile was just short of flirtatious.

She can’t help herself, Molly thought, for the umpteenth time. An attractive woman in her youth, Gloria still turned on the charm for every man she met, young or old, tall or short, rich or poor. She basked in the glow of attention from men as much as Molly turned from it.

Molly sent an apologetic look to Devin, but she needn’t have bothered. He’d read Gloria like a book.

“I agree, Mrs. Shipman. I’ll certainly keep an eye on your daughter.” He turned his attention to Sam whose wide eyes were checking out the chrome of his Harley. “It’s not safe for someone as young and pretty as you to ride one of these without a helmet, and I don’t have one small enough to fit you. Maybe one day, we’ll pick one up. Okay?”

“You mean it? Great.” Sam’s mind raced with possibilities. “Is that your dog?” she asked next, spotting King who was pacing along the fence.

“Yeah, but I’d rather you didn’t go over to him until I take you to meet him, and I don’t have time right now. Is that all right?”

Reluctantly, Sam nodded. “Okay.”

Molly had to hand it to Devin. He’d appeased the daughter without upsetting the mother. His people skills, which hadn’t charmed Hank, were more in evidence today.

Her head cocked, Molly’s sister Lucy had been studying the man with the Harley. “Did Molly say your name is Devin Gray? Are you the Devin Gray who wrote Murder at Oak Creek Canyon? You are, aren’t you? I recognize you from the picture on the back of the dust cover.”

Devin seemed embarrassed. “I guess you caught me.”

Lucy’s round face moved into a big smile as she turned to her sister. “I’ll bet you didn’t even know that this man’s famous?”

Molly was taken aback. Devin had told her he was a writer, yet she hadn’t even bothered to ask what he’d written. She sent him her second apologetic look in as many minutes. “Lucy works at a bookstore in the mall.” She felt she had to say more, to explain. “I don’t have much time to read fiction.”

“You should find the time to read this one,” Lucy insisted. “It takes place here in Arizona, up in Sedona.” Her smile beamed at Devin. “You’ve got a second one just out, something about the Grand Canyon, right?”

“Yes. Death at the Grand Canyon.”

“My, my,” Gloria murmured. “A celebrity in our midst.”

“A very minor one, I assure you.” It was the first time he’d been recognized with the exception of book signings, Devin realized, and the attention made him oddly uncomfortable. Molly’s sister probably wouldn’t have recognized him if she didn’t work in a bookstore. He’d rather people concentrated on searching out his books rather than the author.

“I’ll have to get you to autograph a copy for me,” Lucy went on.

“Any time.” Devin cleared his throat. “Well, nice to have met you all.” He nodded to Molly, winked at Sam, then climbed on his Harley.

All four of them watched him ride off, his dark hair whipping about in a strong morning breeze.

Gloria was the first to speak as she turned to her oldest daughter. “Molly, you didn’t know he was a famous writer?”

She shrugged. “He’d told me he was a writer, but I didn’t ask what he wrote.”

Lucy exchanged a knowing glance with their mother. “Of course you didn’t. I’m surprised you knew his name, as cautious as you are.”

Molly felt she had to defend herself as she led the way into her apartment. “I only met him two days ago.”

“Leave her alone, Lucy,” Gloria admonished. “Now that Molly knows he’s an important writer, besides being quite a hunk, she’ll warm up to him.”

Whether he’d written War and Peace or drove a garbage truck, Molly knew she had no intention of warming up to Devin Gray. Not wanting to have this same old discussion again, knowing full well that both her mother and sister were critical of her hands-off-men policy, she decided to bring a little levity into play. “Mom! A hunk! I can’t believe you said that.” Holding the roasting pan on one arm, she slipped the other around her mother and hugged her. “There may be snow on the roof, but there’s still fire in the heart, eh?”

“Well, I’m not dead nor am I blind. He’s a very attractive man, Molly. And he probably makes a pile of money. You could do worse.” She stepped through the door Molly held open.

“You saw him for five minutes and you think I should set my cap for him?” She loved her mother, but her constant nagging that she should find a good man to take care of her rather than work so hard got on Molly’s nerves. She’d had a so-called good man, and where had it gotten her?

“Who said anything about permanence?” Lucy asked with a grin. “You don’t have to marry him to have a little fun with him. I’m going to have to get his books. I wonder if he’s a sexy writer.”

Molly set the roasting pan down on the kitchen counter. “So, you haven’t read his books?”

“Not yet, but I intend to. I’ll bring them over after I finish so you can read them, too.”

Molly wasn’t altogether sure she wanted to read what Devin Gray had written. It would indicate more interest in him than she was willing to admit to.

Determined to put her neighbor out of her mind, she took Sam’s hand. “How about the grand tour, which should take all of five minutes? The apartment’s not real big, but it’s sunny and clean and close to work.”

“I think it’s charming,” Gloria commented, leading the way.

By four that afternoon, Devin had had it. He had a crick in his neck and his shoulders ached. He’d been at the computer since he’d returned with The Times, leaving it to read later. On his ride, he’d worked out one of his plot problems, an old habit of his, and he’d gone to work immediately after returning. Finally, he was back on track.

Rolling his shoulders, he saved his material and shut off the computer. His rumbling stomach reminded him he hadn’t put anything in it lately except several cups of coffee. In the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and examined its pitiful contents. It looked very much like he’d be having canned soup and a glass of milk again. He really had to go grocery shopping tomorrow.

As he grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table, he heard King give out several playful barks. The German shepherd was three years old and not much of a barker. Chewing, Devin sauntered out onto his back porch. He couldn’t have been more surprised at the sight that greeted his eyes.

Molly was hanging sheets on the clothesline with King trailing her every step. Devin could hear her talking to him, though he couldn’t make out what she was saying. He saw her reach to take the stick from King’s mouth, then throw it across the yard before bending to her clothes basket for a pillowcase.

The big dog raced across the grass, picked up the stick and hurried back to her. Smiling down at him, she petted his large head, then reached to secure the pillowcase. Devin could swear he saw King move close to Molly and nuzzle up against her bare legs. How had she managed to win his dog over in a couple of short days?

She was wearing a long yellow top that came nearly to the hem of her white shorts. She had incredibly long and very shapely legs. Definitely a distraction, one that got his juices flowing every time he looked at her. Watching her bend down to hug King’s head, Devin felt a foolish flash of jealousy. How far gone was he that he was beginning to envy a dog? he wondered.

As Molly gathered up her basket and spare clothes-pins, Devin went down the stairs and met her at the gate. “Don’t you ever let up, take a break, maybe sit down and relax? I hear you moving around down there constantly. I would imagine you’re exhausted.” She didn’t look exhausted, just a little warm. The temperature had to be over ninety.

“Not really. I needed to get settled in since I have early shift tomorrow morning.” He was wearing a black T-shirt over gray knit shorts and hadn’t bothered to shave. The word hunk that her mother had used floated back to her. Yeah, it fit. “I hope I’m not making so much noise I’m disturbing you.” The house had to be at least thirty years old with a few squeaky floors and air vents that allowed some sounds to travel between the two units. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from writing the great American novel.”

He saw her mouth twitch and realized she was teasing him. “Not to worry. My books will never become required reading in school. Purely escape stuff. And you’re not disturbing me.”

“Good.” He seemed genuinely modest, had seemed uncomfortable at Lucy’s comments. She liked that about him. She felt King’s wet nose at her back through the cyclone fencing, turned and smiled before raising a hand to acknowledge him.

“I see you made friends with King.”

“Yes. He’s quite the sweetheart when you get to know him.”

Devin glanced over at the pool, shimmering in the late afternoon sun. “I was just thinking of cooling off with a swim. Want to join me?”

Molly had no trouble picturing that hard, masculine body in a swimsuit. “Thanks, but I’ve still got some things to do.” Carrying her basket, she walked off. “Have a good swim.”

Damned if he wouldn’t, Devin thought. It would have been nice to have company, but he’d go alone. He needed the exercise.

Molly stood at her kitchen window, gazing out through the gauzy curtains she’d brought over from her former apartment, watching Devin do laps in the pool. He was big and looked very strong with not an ounce of fat on him. She’d been counting and was up to twenty. Finally, he eased out and brushed his wet hair back with both hands as water dripped from the dark curls on his chest and legs. He turned to straighten a lounge chair while Molly admired the smooth skin of his back, the muscles rippling as he moved. He sat down in the chair and leaned back, closing his eyes and letting the hot sun dry him.

Her hands trembled ever so slightly as she wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers over those broad shoulders, to examine that deep cleft in his chin. It had been so long since she’d touched a man, or allowed one to touch her. That brief moment when he’d first introduced her to his dog, the nearness of his big body close to hers, the way his hand had lingered on hers, had awakened a dormant need. She would deny it if asked, often denied it even to herself, yet there were times like now that she longed for that strong male touch that was like no other. A man who could make her want and need and ache.