The Baby Surprise. Victoria Pade
and, in a louder voice, said, “Mine? You have to be kidding.”
“I’m not, believe me. This isn’t something I would joke about.”
He shook his head, staring at the floor now rather than at her as if he were replaying something in his mind or trying to get a grip on her announcement. In the process, several things flashed across his expression. Disgust. Disbelief. Denial—or at least the urge to deny. Finally, what looked like anger.
His jaw clenched a few times and his gaze returned to Keely. “Did you say this baby could be mine? Does that mean he might not be?”
The next part was even harder to say. “He could be yours or he could belong to a man named Brian Rooney,” she said quietly.
But for some reason that didn’t come as the additional shock she’d thought it would. It almost seemed to relieve him somewhat.
“Of course,” he said caustically.
So he’d already known there had been someone else with Clarissa at the same time he was with her. Keely had wondered.
But then it registered that the reason he was relieved by that fact was because he hoped Harley was the other man’s child and she couldn’t help feeling protective of the baby who was now in her charge.
She tamped down on that, though, just as she kept having to tamp down on noticing how amazingly handsome Devon Tarlington was. Her own emotions were not relevant in this. She was merely the outsider facilitating what needed to happen from here on.
With that in mind, she continued. “Clarissa has disappeared and left Harley behind. But not before arranging with a lawyer to have custody of him relinquished to his father. As soon as it’s determined which of you is his father.”
That seemed to dissolve whatever small amount of relief Devon Tarlington felt, and every remarkable angle, every chiseled plane of his face tensed all over again.
“So she’s bailed on her own baby, too,” he said through a tight jaw.
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
That simple question and the concern it showed went a long way in redeeming him.
“Harley is with my sister Hillary. Clarissa had us appointed his temporary guardians until paternity is established and then we’re to turn him over to his father. He’s a great baby, though. Adorable. Even-tempered. As sweet as he can be….”
Okay, she was letting her own emotions rise to the surface again. She had to stop that.
“I’m sure you’ll like him,” she finished feebly.
“Clarissa didn’t have any idea which of us is the father?”
“None.”
Devon Tarlington’s expression was still like a storm cloud and Keely knew she’d tapped into something that was deep and dark for him. But she had to admire the control he was exhibiting. And she appreciated that he didn’t seem to be confusing the message with the messenger the way she’d been afraid he might.
Still, for another long moment, he didn’t speak. He stared off into the distance, pensively, apparently working to absorb this turn of events.
Then he said, “So what now?”
“You were easy to locate. But I haven’t found Brian Rooney yet.”
Devon’s jaw pulsed yet again. Then, in a stilted voice, he said, “Both Brian and I are from a small town out on the eastern plains—Dunbar. You might start looking there. That’s where his family is and they’re bound to know something about him.”
So the two men knew each other. They were even from the same place. A small town. Had they merely been acquainted with each other, or had they been friends? Keely wondered.
But she didn’t pry.
“Is there any chance Brian knew Clarissa was pregnant?” Devon asked then.
“Clarissa said in the letter she left that neither of you knew. Which means that once I locate this other man I’ll have to go to him in person because I don’t think it’s news that should be given over the telephone, especially by a stranger. Plus I’ll need to get some blood from him for typing and DNA comparison—if the blood type alone isn’t conclusive. So really, I’m at the very beginning of this.”
“You’ll need blood from me, too, then, right?”
“Right.”
Devon Tarlington shook his head again, his disgust blatant now. “I can’t believe this.”
“I know it’s a lot to digest,” Keely said softly. “But honestly, it isn’t a joke.”
“Yeah, at the end Clarissa wasn’t quite as many laughs as she started out to be,” he said wryly, more to himself than to her. “So what do you want me to do? Go to my doctor or what?”
“I’ve made arrangements with an independent lab to do the testing. You’ll need to go in to have blood drawn. I haven’t taken Harley in yet, but I will, and then the three samples will be looked at for a match,” she explained.
“Are you sure there’s only two possibilities?” he asked then.
“For who could be Harley’s father? I’m just relaying what I’ve been told—Harley’s dad is either you or Brian Rooney.”
Devon Tarlington nodded, then shook his head yet again, clearly having trouble believing this.
But in spite of that he said, “I can’t go to the lab tomorrow, I have a business meeting that’ll take most of the day. How about Wednesday?”
“Okay.” She was grateful that he wasn’t putting up more of a fuss. She had been worried that he might refuse and she hadn’t had a contingency plan if he did.
“And the baby—did you say he’s with you and your sister now?”
“Yes. We share a house and he’s staying with us.”
“Is that all right with you and your sister?”
Again his concern for someone other than himself earned him points with her. “My sister and I are crazy about him, so yes, it’s okay that he’s with us.”
Devon Tarlington seemed to hesitate then and whatever was going through his mind must have disturbed him because the frown lines were back between his brows before he said, “Maybe I should meet him.”
“It probably wouldn’t do any harm,” Keely agreed.
He sighed once more, obviously struggling fiercely with the possibility of fatherhood. “How about tomorrow? In the evening?” he suggested.
“That would be fine,” she answered, working to fight the slight eruption of excitement she felt at the prospect of seeing this man again herself, an excitement she knew she had no business feeling.
And since she didn’t really have anything else to say to him, she stood to go. “Thank you for not hitting the ceiling,” she said as she did.
Devon Tarlington stood, too, and walked her back to the front door. “I couldn’t very well hit the ceiling with you. You didn’t have anything to do with this, did you?” he asked with a hint of that smile that he’d flashed so easily before he knew what she was there to tell him.
“No, I just wasn’t sure what kind of a reaction I might find. I didn’t think this would be particularly welcome news.”
“Yeah, it probably would have been better to hear that Miss Keely Irish-Eyes Gilhooley had looked me up for something a little more tantalizing,” he agreed in a deep, devilish tone that let her know he’d returned to the teasing he’d greeted her with, albeit more subdued. “But it was nice to meet you anyway.”
“You, too,” she countered, still trying