Kate Welsh - Substitute Daddy

He had to admit he did as well, or he’d have told his parents that Melissa had conceived Gary’s baby in the procedure performed a month before his death. His mother hadn’t asked. She had merely wondered aloud if she’d have to do something drastic to assure the possible grandchild was brought up properly.

Brett had kept his mouth shut and hadn’t questioned what she’d meant before she’d resumed her trip following the funeral. In his heart, though, he knew the answer. His mother would sue for custody in a New York minute if she saw the way Melissa lived.

Melissa opened her front door on her way to get her Sunday Washington Post and couldn’t believe her eyes. No less than twenty grocery bags and one small gift bag sat at the edge of the porch all lined up like toy soldiers. She walked onto the porch bewildered and stood staring down at the bounty. There were three bags half-full of fresh produce alone!

But then the bewilderment started dissolving like dew on a summer morning. Half-full? They were all half-full. As if they’d purposely been loaded lightly. As if someone hadn’t wanted her carrying anything too heavy. Which meant they were from someone who knew about the baby. It wouldn’t be Izaak or Margaret or anyone from the Amish community. They brought meals in baskets and would never just leave them. Hunter thought the drive-in at the new fast-food franchise was the modern way to food shop.

It had to be Brett!

Brett.

Of the people she knew, he was the only one extravagant enough to leave all of this just sitting on someone’s porch in the hope that it would be accepted. Hadn’t he listened to a thing she said? He was still trying to buy his way into her baby’s life. She had a mind to let it sit there to rot in the hot sun!

Then she saw a patch of curly brown fur peeking out of the cloud-and-rainbow gift bag and couldn’t resist the temptation. Stuffed animals were her one weakness in life—she refused to count the light-headed effect Brett had on her.

Melissa reluctantly bent down and pulled out a soft, floppy brown bear. She might have been able to ignore a beseeching expression in Brett’s striking gray eyes but not in the bear’s golden ones.

She tried all day to tell herself she’d been nothing but practical to bring the groceries into the kitchen and put them away. After all, she couldn’t really leave all that food to rot on her porch. It would draw every bit of wildlife on the property to her front door and create a mess she’d have to clean up later, she rationalized. And grocery shopping was such a chore. Her days were busy with rebuilding her business and hunting down stock for the shop. It would have been foolish to let the food go to waste.

Ultimately, sitting down at the kitchen table, staring at the teddy bear in her hands, Melissa admitted to herself that something in Brett’s gesture touched her…once her initial annoyance wore off. And that softening attitude toward him bothered her. Every time she looked up from the decorating sample book she was putting together, the teddy bear’s sweet face snagged her attention. Annoyed, she finally smacked her hand on the table and jumped up.

“A leopard doesn’t change its spots in a matter of hours. You are not going to fool me, Brett Costain,” she declared, and stalked to the bear, intending to put him back in the bag. But something inside the bag tangled with the bear’s legs when she tried. That’s when she found the envelope she’d overlooked earlier. Frowning, Melissa tore it open.

“‘Dear Melissa,’” she read aloud. “‘I apologize again for the things I said. I don’t wish to intrude on your life but as you’re carrying my brother’s child there’s no way I can withdraw completely. I’ll be back next weekend to continue the talk we started. Please take care of yourself. BJC.’”

“BJC. What’s the J stand for? Jerk? You show up here again and I’ll have Hunter toss you out of the county on your ear,” she muttered through clenched teeth, blessedly annoyed at him once again.

Brett pulled into Melissa’s long drive the following Saturday at a little after noon. He’d put in a long week of rescheduled meetings and late-night dinners with clients trying to cram six days’ worth of work into five. He hoped this visit with Melissa would make it all worthwhile.

He wasn’t the least bit surprised when she barreled out the front door before he reached the top step of the porch. “I thought I’d made myself clear,” she said, standing with her arms crossed belligerently.

She wore her hostility like a shield, but the effect was destroyed by the flowing, calf-length, white cotton dress she also wore. Her golden hair, a tumble of loose curls glinting in the sunlight, absolutely begged for a man’s hands to muss it even more. Her blue eyes practically sparked with indignation, making him long to see them once again hot with arousal instead of irritation.

Will you give it a rest! She can’t stand the sight of you, you pathetic jerk.

He sighed and reminded himself that, though she looked good enough to eat, his attraction to her was also illogical and irrelevant. It had to be. He was there to discuss the trust fund he’d set up. Anything else would get in the way. Eyes on the prize, he lectured himself, but his self-control around Melissa was practically nonexistent. He’d proven that to himself and Gary five years ago.

“You made yourself perfectly clear,” he told her, closing the car door slowly. “You don’t like me. You don’t trust me. And you don’t forgive me. I have to earn all three. Did I miss anything?” Folding his arms before him, Brett leaned against his car.

“Yes.” Melissa rushed toward him, then stopped abruptly, halfway down the weed-laden path. She eyed him cautiously. “Actually you failed to tell me what it is you’re up to with these little impromptu visits.”

“How can I earn your forgiveness, your trust or your goodwill if we never see each other? I owe it to Gary’s child to try.”

She huffed out a quick breath. “You are so infuriating. I can’t imagine you’re interested in a baby, even Gary’s baby. They’re noisy, demanding, often smelly and they’re always there. You can’t buy them off with expensive jewelry when they become inconvenient.”

Brett felt his cheeks heat. So Leigh had told her that too. “I never thought I could. Nor would I want to. And once again, I’m not trying to maneuver a way to take your baby. Please believe I was speaking from anger and surprise when I said that. I’m not asking for access to the baby for my parents or any other family members. I’m the only one who even knows you are pregnant. I’m asking you to accept a check each month from a trust fund I’ve set up for Gary’s child. I loved my brother and I want his child to have everything he needs to build a successful future. Is that so hard to understand?”

“Well, no.” Pensively, Melissa turned and walked back to the porch to sit in the rocker where he’d left her last weekend. He followed.

“I guess that’s a step in the right direction. But I have to wonder if your definition of a successful life and mine bear any resemblance to each other. What’s your definition?”

The answer was so obvious he didn’t know why she’d bothered to ask. Brett stared at her. She was serious. He frowned. Maybe his answer was a little too obvious. Why did he suddenly feel as if he’d walked into a minefield? How could so simple a question suddenly take on all the features of a riddle?

He knew his silence screamed indecision, but still he hesitated to give his answer. He just couldn’t imagine another possible response than the one that had leapt to his tongue, but he was sure she must be seeking a different sort of reply.

Leaning against the porch railing, Brett tried to look relaxed, while feeling anything but. “Ideally, I think children should get a good education at the best school that can be provided for them. Then they should finish their education at an Ivy League university or one of the Seven Sisters colleges, again, if at all possible. By then they should be ready to move into a career that will eventually net somewhere in the six-figure range.”