Her Baby's Father

Sara looked at Jack, and they exchanged what might have been conspiratorial glances.

She remembered that he hated tile in a kitchen because it was slippery, and he needed all the traction he could get.

Pam ushered Ted into the living room. “There’s lots of space for entertaining,” she said. “Notice the easy flow into the family room. And the large windows let in plenty of natural light.”

Ted took a quick look at the rooms before proceeding to another that could be a first-floor office. Turning, he said, “I’d like to see the upstairs.”

“Of course.”

She led the way up, but Sara and Jack stayed on the first floor, watching the other two disappear around a corner.

“Are you responsible for all the homey touches?” he asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“They’re charming.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you own a furniture store or something?”

“No. Just a warehouse where I keep furnishings and knickknacks. If the house is already furnished, I advise the home owner about what to keep and what to put in storage. And which things to replace. It takes away from the salability of a house if the sofa arms have been scratched by a cat.” She struggled to act casual when she ached to reach out and pull Jack into her arms.

She longed to feel his body against hers. Feel his strength and the wonderful way he had of wrapping her close like she was the most precious thing in the world. At the same time, she ached to keep him safe, if that was in her power.

The emotions swirling inside her made it difficult to focus on his words.

But she realized he was saying, “You’ve obviously got an eye for design.”

“Making houses look their best is as much fun for me as it is a job.”

He was giving her a critical inspection, and she stood with her hands at her sides.

“Are you all right?”

“Why do you ask?”

“You have a strange look on your face.”

She laughed, struggling to make light of a moment that was so important to her that she could barely breathe. “I guess it’s from working eight hours straight getting this place ready.”

“All by yourself? Wasn’t a real-estate agent killed recently in an empty house?”

“Yes. I wasn’t alone. Several big, strapping college students help me move furniture. Two of them were here with me today.”

“Good protection.”

“And since I’m on a budget, using them cuts down on costs. the recession set me back for a while. I had to take some temp work to afford the rent.”

“That must have been frustrating.”

“Yes. But the real-estate market is picking up again. When I get more clients, maybe I can afford to hire some permanent help.”

“But right now you’re running yourself ragged,” he said.

“Do I look that wrung out?”

His expression turned rueful. “Sorry. That came out wrong. It’s not what I meant.”

JACK DRAGGED IN A BREATH and let it out, thinking he was out of practice when it came to women. He’d told himself he didn’t care what they thought about it. At the moment, he cared—a lot.

“I’m making a mess of this.”

“No.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Actually, I’m trying to get you to do me a favor.”

“Like what?”

“My brother dragged me here because he wanted me to see this expensive house that’s too big for one family, but he’s probably going to buy it anyway. You can see he doesn’t need my approval, but I came in his car, so I can’t leave on my own.”

“Inconvenient.”

Going for broke, he said, “If you get me out of here, I’ll buy you dinner.”

“That’s a very tempting offer.”

“Good.”

He strode to the steps, and called up. “Sara and I are leaving. See you later.”

“What?” Ted called down.

“We’ll talk later,” Jack answered, then turned back to Sara. “Come on, before Ted puts up an argument.”

“Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Yes,” he answered, knowing it wasn’t true. Ted was going to be pissed off. He liked things to work out the way he planned, but Jack was going to accommodate him only so far. He’d come along in an attempt to be brotherly. Now there was something else he’d much rather do.

“I’ve got to get my purse.”

He watched Sara head for the kitchen, noting the feminine sway of her hips. She was a very pretty blonde with blue eyes and a trim figure. His type. Well, that had been his type, when he’d felt better about himself.

Sara hadn’t stared at the scars on his face. What would she think about his mangled leg? He stopped himself from going down that road. At least he had two legs and the important parts between them. A lot of guys had come back in much worse shape.

Besides, he was getting way ahead of himself with Sara. He’d just met her. Yet he couldn’t banish the tempting picture of the two of them in bed together.

He strove for a neutral expression as she came back with a leather bag slung over one shoulder.