Raye Morgan - Instant Dad

“In the first place, what kind of a husband sleeps in a separate room?” he muttered to himself, about to open the closet. A quick mental image of Sara’s sleek, naked body flashed into his mind and he bit down hard on his lip to force it away. He wasn’t going to let himself think of her as a desirable woman, no matter how good she looked with her clothes off. That wasn’t what he was here for.

But it did bring up the question—how could a man who loved her stay away?

Each to his own way of living. Wasn’t that the sort of toleration everyone was supposed to practice these days?

Sure, but not where a baby was involved. He’d made a commitment to make sure Jenny’s baby was going to a good home. So far, he wasn’t sure that was what he would call this one.

He turned to the closet and pulled it open, still searching for the element that had bothered him when he’d been here before. Rows of suits hung side by side with polo shirts and winter jackets. He stared at them and the answer came to him. These things hadn’t been touched in months, possibly years. The suits were out of style. The jackets looked like castoffs. And the entire collection had the odd, musty smell of fabric in storage. If Sara’s husband ever came home, he didn’t come here.

Drey closed the closet door and turned slowly, heading for the kitchen once again. He’d learned long ago that things were seldom as they seemed on the surface, but this was extreme. Where was Sara’s husband? Or did she even have one?

It was not merely an interesting question. It was something he had to know.

* * *

“Hey, no sleeping.”

Sara opened her eyes. She had drifted off for just a moment, but she was awake now, and there Drey was, looking down at her. She frowned.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked him.

“To keep you awake. I’m just checking on you. It’s not good for someone with a possible concussion to go to sleep right away.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” She turned and punched the pillow up, then half sat against it. “Why are you helping me this way?”

“I have nothing better to do,” he claimed, but there was a veiled look in his eyes and she didn’t believe him.

There was another reason. She was not so naive as to think he was doing this out of the goodness of his heart.

Should she be frightened of him? She asked herself that as he left the room again, going down to finish cooking. He was a stranger and he was staying the night. Was she crazy to let him? Was she nuts?

Probably. But she knew the man he worked for. And Matthew Bracken said he’d been friends with his daughter in high school. That made him about five years younger than she was, but it also made him someone people in her circle knew. Was all this enough to guarantee he was a good guy?

She still didn’t have her answers, but she resigned herself to being taken care of. It felt so darn good. No one had taken care of her this way since…She thought hard, but she couldn’t remember when anyone else had done it. From the time she was a child she’d always been taking care of other people, trying to make everything work and holding it all together.

That was what was wrong. Things weren’t holding together anymore. Everything seemed to be flying apart. But she didn’t want to think about that.

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