Bachelor Father (16 page)

Brett awakened with a start,
somehow knowing that Molly had already left the
condo
.
He’d kind
of expected she’d be gone this morning. She’d need space to weigh
everything that was happening and put it in its proper place. Molly
wouldn’t take their mutual attraction lightly. Neither did he, for
that matter. The loss he’d felt when he’d awoken knowing she’d
already gone made him realize how much he’d come to rely on her
being there for him. How much he was falling for her.

He rolled on his back and thought about their
kiss last night. He couldn’t wait until tonight, to see her again.
His instincts were telling him she was “the one.” He’d never felt
this strongly about a woman before.

With a pang of guilt, he sat up on the edge of
the bed. He been so absorbed with his thoughts of Molly, he’d
forgotten all about Jake. Brett looked at the clock. Nine-ten. He’d
better get to the hospital if he wanted to be there when the doctor
made morning rounds. If the night had gone as expected, Jake should
be released today.

Molly sat at her computer. What a chicken.
She’d put her voicemail on forward all day long to avoid talking
with Brett. He’d left her a message that the hospital had released
Jake. The joy at hearing the good news had made her reach for the
phone to call him back. The memory of last night had stopped
her.

How could she have come so close to letting
her guard down? All because he’d seemed to need to be with her.
Neither her mind nor her emotions were ready to sort out the rest
yet. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She couldn’t let herself
fall into the same trap her mother had, trading herself to a man
who didn’t love her in return.

She should go home and face him. Short of
running away, she’d have to face him sometime. But first, she had
to set things back in order, separate her personal feelings from
her professional responsibilities. She had a job to do. If only she
could get last night’s kiss to stop running through her mind. She’d
really let down all of her defenses, and without knowing what
feelings — if any Brett — had for her.

Sure, she knew he felt something. Sharing the
responsibility for Jake, they’d become friends, good friends. But
if Tina’s tales of Brett’s reputation were even partly true, he
might not put any significance on last night’s kiss. Good friends
sometimes got carried away. It didn’t have to happen again.
Wouldn’t happen again. Why make a big deal about it?

“Molly, are you done with the book?” Charles
interrupted her thoughts.

“Almost.” Molly studied Jake’s official
adoption photo, taken by Korean Child Welfare before he’d left
Korea. He’d changed so much in nine months. The picture on her
computer screen showed a baby not the independent little boy Molly
knew.

“I’ve got a meeting scheduled tonight with the
new families,” Charles reminded her.

“I know.” She reluctantly typed Jake’s
information under his picture with a gloomy certainty that some
other family would see the photo and ask for him. Who could resist
that adorable smile?

Molly had searched furtively for a good reason
to leave Jake’s page out of the December Waiting Children book. By
next month, Brett’s application might be approved and Jake wouldn’t
have to be included.

“Molly, if it’s too difficult for you, I can
finish up the book.”

The sympathetic look on Charles face made her
more determined not to let her personal feelings impinge on her
professional life. “No.” She shook her head. “You’re doing enough
already.

As Brett’s new caseworker, Charles was doing
all he could to speed up Brett’s paperwork. He’d even asked the
director of adoptions about excluding Jake’s listing from the
Waiting Children book. But the director had remained adamant.
Because of the unusual circumstances, her counterpart at KCW would
be certain to check for Jake’s listing in the copy he
received.

“The book is my job. I’ll finish it,” she said
resolutely, ignoring the pang inside telling her that by listing
Jake as available to other adoptive parents, she was betraying
Brett’s trust.

Molly ran a spell check on the new
listings she’d added and made the needed corrections. As she
deleted duplicate information in one of the listings, the
temptation to delete Jake’s entire listing tugged at her. It
could
be an honest
mistake. But it wouldn’t be.

“Charles, if the printer’s clear, I’m going to
send the new book pages now.”

“Go ahead.”

She clicked the print icon.

 “
Hey,” Molly called with
forced cheerfulness from the front room. “I’m home.” When she got
no answer, she headed to the kitchen. Maybe Brett was as reluctant
to face her as she was to face him. He probably considered last
night a mistake, a moment of weakness best forgotten. Her heart
plunged at the thought. She took a deep breath, pasted a smile on
her face and pushed open the kitchen door.

The kitchen was empty. Brett must be upstairs
with Jake. That’s why he hadn’t heard her come in. Granted this
slight reprieve, Molly busied herself starting dinner. As she
reached for the container of hot peppers in the cupboard above the
stove, an arm slipped around her waist.

“Eeek,” she shrieked and dropped the peppers,
jar and all into the pot of chili.

“Gotcha,” Brett said, his warm breath ticking
her ear and his spicy cologne mingling with the spicy aroma wafting
from the stove.

“Brett!” She pushed at his hand.

He tightened his grip and drew her against
him.

Assailed by the heat of the stove in front of
her and the warmth of Brett’s embrace behind, Molly envisioned
herself melting to nothing more than a puddle on the
floor.

“Did you miss me today?” Brett asked, his
voice low and so very close.

Mustering every ounce of self-control she
possessed, Molly resisted the urge to turn in his arms. “The
peppers,” she said. “I’ve got to get the pepper jar out of the
chili.”

“I’ll get it.” Brett reached around her to the
drawer and pulled out a ladle. He scooped the jar from the pot.
“You’re supposed to take the peppers out of the jar before you add
them to the chili,” he teased. “Perhaps, in the future, you’d
better leave the cooking to me.”

The future. In the future, she wouldn’t be
here. She wiped her eye. The onions she’d added to the chili must
be pretty potent, the way her eyes were watering. “Funny, real
funny,” she quipped to conceal how his playful words affected her.
“Now, why don’t you make yourself useful and rinse that jar off.”
She waved her stirring spoon at the dripping ladle Brett held
suspended over the counter.

He eyed the growing puddle of chili sauce.
“Opps, I’d better clean up. You wield a pretty mean spoon there.”
Brett laughed as he stepped back behind her and slipped his free
hand back around her waist for a squeeze.

“Get,” she said playfully, waving the spoon
again.

He went to the sink, washed off the jar and
opened it with a flourish. “Here you go.” He added the whole
contents of the jar to the chili.

“Brett! You poured a half jar of dried peppers
in. Don’t you think that may be a few too many?”

“Nah, I always use that much. It’ll be
fine.”

“For you, maybe, but what about me? What was
he trying to do incinerate her from the inside out in three easy
steps. Step one, last night. Step two, fire chili tonight. Step
three . . . She swallowed hard at the possibilities for step
three.

“And Jake?” She managed to finish her
sentence. “Jake can’t eat this chili.” Jake. She’d been so caught
up in the playful banter with Brett, she hadn’t even asked about
Jake. “How is he?”

“His fever is gone. You’d hardly know he was
so sick yesterday. We played all afternoon, and he didn’t go down
for his nap until after four.” Brett had moved back behind her,
once again trapping her between the heat of the stove and the heat
of his closeness. “I was up checking on him when you came in. He’s
as fast asleep as he was last night when the doctor examined him. I
doubt an earthquake would wake him.”

“About last night.” Molly plunged in the
opening.

“Brett wrapped both arms around Molly’s waist
and nuzzled a sensitive spot under her ear. “Yeah, last
night.”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“I just want you to know that it won’t affect our
arrangement.”

“Hmmmm?” Brett continued to nuzzle her
neck.

Emotions as heady as the mixture on the stove
swirled through Molly. “I.” She cleared her throat. If only she
could clear her head, too. “I know it was just the moment. I didn’t
read any more into that that. I mean, I won’t do anything to stop
the annulment, or anything.”

He stopped cold. “I wasn’t exactly thinking
about the annulment at the moment,” he said
sarcastically.

The possibilities of what he might be
thinking, remembering, made Molly’s knees go weak. She placed the
spoon on a spoon rest and turned the stove burner off. Someone had
to get this situation back in perspective.

She walked to the table and sat. “Brett, we
need to talk.”

He leaned against the counter beside the
table, his arms crossed, forcing her to look up at him when she
spoke.

“About last night, it . . .” her voice trailed
off.

“It, what?” He pushed away from the counter
and stood next to her, his hand resting on the table, effectively
cornering her in the chair.

“It,” she started again, wishing he’d sit
down, rather than loom over her like a hovering bird of
prey.

She took a deep breath and stared him straight
in the eye. “It was a mistake.”

“A mistake,” he repeated, leaning closer. “A
good mistake or a bad mistake?”

His dark eyes glittered, with anger or
something else? She couldn’t be sure.

“Good or bad?” he prompted, leaning even
closer, his gaze intent on her.

Unconsciously she tilted her face
to him, all the while her mind screaming
don’t kiss me
. If he kissed her,
they’d be back where they were last night.

His lips were inches from hers, his breath
warm on her face. “Good or bad?”

Good, very good
, her heart told her. Was this lack of control hereditary?
Some defective gene passed on from her mother? She had to get
control.

“Good,” she blurted to stop him.
“Great.”

Brett didn’t move, but a smile of masculine
satisfaction spread across his face.

Molly focused on the dimple in his right
cheek, rather than his eyes. “But, it was just physical
attraction.”

Brett straightened, as if she splashed cold
water in his face.

“That’s all?” he said, with a hard look that
made her cringe. “I didn’t have you pegged for that type. Look at
all the fun we’ve missed.”

“No!” She shook her head violently. “Not like
that,” she said brokenly.

“Then like what?”

Molly fingered her cross for strength before
lifting her eyes to his. “You said you needed me. I wanted to help
you.”

His expression remained hard. “So, last
night’s kiss was just a show of mercy—”

“Don’t, don’t say it. Don’t make it sound so
mean. I care for you.” Heaven only knew how much. More than she
cared to admit, even to herself—especially to herself. “You were
hurting. I could help.”

Brett’s finger brushed her cheek softly. “It
wasn’t only physical attraction,” he said, his words a statement
not a question.

She nodded against his finger. That much she
could admit. He lifted her chin, so she had to look him in the eye.
His expression had turned speculative, as if he were probing inside
her head, her heart, trying to read her deepest
thoughts.

She tried to turn away. His eyes gleamed. He
knew. She must be that transparent. He knew how much she
cared.

“Brett.” She finally found her voice. “Please
sit.”

Reluctantly, he pulled a chair next to
hers.

She took his hands. “We’re good friends. I
think I can say that.” She looked to him for agreement.

He massaged her knuckles with his thumb. “I’ll
buy that.” He turned her hand over and started drawing circles on
her palm with his fingertip.

She tried to focus on what she had
to say, but it was no use. Her thoughts kept returning to the
sensations emanating from her hand, moving up her arm, quickening
her heartbeat. She willed herself to pull her had away.
Friends
, she told
herself.
Nothing more
.

Brett raised an eyebrow in
question.

“Sometimes, sometimes,” she stuttered, looking
at her hand as if she’d never seen it before. “Sometimes, friends
get carried away, caught up in the moment.”

“And that’s what you think happened last
night? We got caught up in the moment?”