Noah And The Stork. Penny McCusker
fear. And when you started out with a half-grown kid who was probably harboring resentment, on-the-job-training had a whole new meaning….
The long day and sleepless hours finally caught up with him, and when he opened his eyes again, they felt as if they were filled with about a pound of sand apiece, mixed with something roughly the consistency of school paste. He thought he saw Jessie. He blinked a couple of times, but the picture didn’t change. It was still Jessie, barely visible in the predawn light leaking in around the windowshades, wearing the same clothes as last night, jeans and T-shirt, both baggy on her spindly frame.
He’d avoided thinking of the conversation that was coming this morning. He wasn’t a man who worried and agonized, who rehearsed. He was a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants kind of guy. More often than not, he went with his gut. The problem was, his gut wasn’t up to this conversation at the moment, not without about a gallon of coffee in it.
He rolled over and closed his eyes.
She took it as an invitation.
“What are you doing here?”
Noah flopped onto his back, thought about pulling the pillow over his head, and settled for scrubbing his hands over his face. “The hotel is closed,” he said in a voice that probably should’ve scared her off. No such luck. “I didn’t have enough gas to get to Plains City.”
Silence. She stood there staring at him, unblinking. It would have been unnerving if he’d cared about anything but sleep.
“The gas station is open now,” she said the minute he closed his eyes again. “It opens at five, on account of the ranchers and farmers.”
He groaned and rolled over again, and then it hit him. He twisted around to squint at the clock on the nightstand. “Jeez, it’s not even six yet. Nobody in their right mind gets up this early—Oh, I forgot, this is Erskine. I’ve left normal behind.”
Jessie glowered in a way that reminded him of…himself.
“I wasn’t talking about you and your mom.”
“Why not? You left us behind, too.”
Noah let his eyes drift shut, but it had nothing to do with exhaustion this time. He still wanted to go back to sleep, badly, but it was impossible now.
He sat up, scooting back so he could lean against the head-board. “I haven’t seen a sunrise since Hell Farm,” he said, his private name for the hardscrabble farm his father had bought when Noah was ten and lost to the bank not long after he’d graduated from high school.
“You haven’t seen this one yet,” Jessie said. “What’s Hell Farm?”
“Forget I said that.”
“If you won’t explain it to me, I guess I shouldn’t bother asking you anything else.”
“Is that what you’re after? An explanation?”
She locked her hands behind her back and stared down at her toes, giving him a one-shoulder shrug.
Noah waited until she looked at him, then crossed his arms and let his eyebrows inch up.
Her cute little face was scrunched in a frown. “So, what’ve you got to say for yourself?”
He rubbed his jaw, mostly to hide the smile. He could just imagine Janey saying that whenever Jessie got into trouble—and if she was anything like her mother, she got into plenty of trouble. It was a sobering thought, considering the situation. “Well, first off, I didn’t know about you.”
“Mom said.”
“When I left town, it was just the two of us.”
“Didn’t you like her anymore? If you sleep with someone, you should like them. Or use a condom.”
If she’d wanted to shock him, she’d succeeded. His mouth was open, but nothing came out except a strangled sort of sigh.
“I learned that in school. In health class. Condoms prevent…some sort of diseases and unwanted pregnancies. That’s me, right?” She raised her chin and met his gaze head-on.
She was all but daring him to lie to her. Or maybe she was daring him to tell her the truth. “Um…Your mom—”
“Mom tells me all the time that she wouldn’t trade me for anything in the world, and I believe her. She never lies—or hardly ever, and then she always has a good reason.” Jessie frowned. “Even if she doesn’t say what it is.”
“I thought I heard voices.”
They both looked over and saw Janey leaning in the doorway. Noah could’ve kissed her, and not simply because the sight of her did things to him he should have outgrown ten years ago—although that would be reason enough.
Her hair was tousled, her eyes sleepy. She crossed her arms under her breasts, which just about killed him. He would’ve preferred something lacy and revealing to the loose midthigh-length T-shirt she was wearing, but apparently his hormones weren’t very discriminating. Janey in a gunny sack probably would’ve gotten him revved up.
A glance at Jessie was all it took to cool him down again.
“What are you doing in here?” Janey asked her daughter.
“Talking to him.” Jessie crossed her arms in a miniature copy of her mother’s stance that gave Noah a pang he didn’t want to examine too closely.
“She’s after an explanation,” he supplied helpfully.
“You won’t be getting one,” Janey said to her. “Why doesn’t matter anymore. Where we go from here does.” She glanced at Noah, then quickly away. “First we all need to get dressed.”
“I’m already dressed,” Jessie pointed out.
“In yesterday’s clothes. Go wash your face, brush your teeth and put on something clean.” Janey shooed Jessie from the room, following her out into the hallway.
Noah called her back.
Janey took a minute to watch Jessie disappear into her room, feet dragging the whole way, before she turned back. She should’ve gone with Jessie—that was all she could think. Noah had swung his legs over the side of the bed, covers be damned, and now that Jessie was gone, it was just too easy to let her mind—and her eyes—stray. And really, it was his fault for sitting there all bare, except for a pair of blue boxers. Silk boxers. His legs were tanned and muscular, peppered with dark hair; so was his chest, but her gaze kept straying back to those boxers. Who’d ever have thought silk could be so clingy? Who’d ever have thought he’d be so—
Dangerous.
She’d walked behind his chair to put his dinner on the table last night and been caught by the scent of him, fresh from the shower. He’d used her shampoo and soap, but on him it had smelled different, the familiar fragrances tangled with some wild and unpredictable aroma that defied description. All she knew was what it did to her. And what it did to her was unacceptable.
She had no business being attracted to Noah Bryant after all these years and all the pain he’d caused her. Not to mention Jessie.
“You need to get dressed, too. If know my daughter, she’ll be ready in record time and I don’t think you want her to see you like that.”
“Our daughter.”
She held his eyes, despite the fact that her heart lurched over hearing him say that. “You’re right, biologically speaking. I wonder if you can make it true in any of the ways that really count?”
“But you’re afraid I can, and that you’ll lose part of her to me.”
“I’m surprised you care what I’m feeling, Noah.”
“But you’re not denying it.”
Because she was very much afraid he was right. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Jessie to have