Your Baby Or Mine? Read online

  He rose, taking out his wallet. Marissa was reaching for her purse.

  “I asked you out, the least I can do is spring for it.” Coffee came in small and large. Medium didn’t seem to be an option. Even the large didn’t amount to more than a dollar. He was accustomed to spending more. Alec nodded at the highlighted menu behind the counter. “Are you sure you only want coffee?”

  Marissa turned in her seat and found herself looking up at an artistically enhanced poster of a foaming strawberry malt that hung between the breakfast and lunch menus.

  She really shouldn’t, but…

  “Well, actually, I’d love a malt instead of coffee,” she admitted.

  Judging by the way she looked, Alec doubted that she indulged in too many of those. He nodded. “Sure, anything you want.”

  “And fries,” Marissa added as Alec walked toward the counter.

  He laughed. He’d pictured her as a health nut, dedicated to all things vegetable. It was nice to know he was wrong. Her tastes matched his own. “Healthy appetite.”

  She didn’t know about healthy, but the appetite was certainly there. “I haven’t had time to eat all day,” she confessed. Ever so gently, she tucked the light blanket around her sleeping son, careful not to rouse him. “And while it might not be healthy, I’ve got to admit I do love junk food once in a while.”

  Well, at least she wasn’t pretentious, but then, he’d already figured that out.

  “Junk food it is.” He glanced at the menu with its photos of popular combinations. “Do you want a burger with that?”

  Yes, she did. But she didn’t really want to eat alone. “Are you getting anything? Besides the coffee, I mean.”

  It had been a long time since he’d eaten in a place like this. The last time was probably while he was still in college. He’d shared a bag of fries with Christine. Memories of their days on campus came tiptoeing back to him. To his surprise, they didn’t hurt quite so much as they once had.

  “Sure,” he said gamely. “Why not?”

  The lanky youth behind the counter looked barely sixteen and was eager to please. The order was filled within less than three minutes. Alec smiled, remembering himself at that age. Had he really ever been that young? It almost didn’t seem possible.

  He ignored the change from his ten. “Keep it,” he said, turning away from the counter.

  Bewildered, the teenager stared at the money on the counter before he mumbled a thank-you and quickly shoved the change into his pocket.

  Alec slid the tray onto the table in front of Marissa. Instinct had made him get an extra-large order of fries. He had a feeling that Marissa could more than do justice to it.

  Sitting, he took his own drink and fries off the tray. He glanced at the two children.

  “They’re still asleep,” he noted with relief. To him, it was tantamount to a minor miracle. Andrea never fell asleep before nine.

  Marissa stuck her straw into the hole she made in the plastic lid. Pink foam made an aborted attempt to escape. A little dribbled over onto the side. Marissa slid her finger along the container and licked it off. It tasted like heaven.

  “The class tired them out.” She took a sip and savored it. “That’s the idea.”

  Damn stupid for a man to feel himself aroused because he watched a woman lick pink liquid off her finger. He wasn’t accustomed to being stupid. Needing to look at something other than her eyes, Alec looked down at the printed message on the paper place mat. It gave details of Squirrely Joe’s latest contest.

  “And it’s a great idea,” he muttered, trying to get his mind on the conversation and not on the sensual curve of her mouth. “They look so peaceful like that.”

  He laughed to himself, remembering his mother’s complaint when he had picked Andrea up this afternoon for class. Andrea had crawled over to Roberta’s poodle and tried to take Robespierre’s collar off to use as a teething ring.

  “Hard to believe that they can cause so much damage when they’re awake, when they look like that.”

  “It has to do with survival.” She looked at Christopher as she unwrapped her hamburger. “God made them look so adorable so that we would forgive them for making us completely crazy.”

  Marissa took a bite and closed her eyes, savoring it. Lord, but it did feel good getting something into her stomach. It felt even better doing it sitting down. Lately, whenever she ate, it was either on the run or standing over the sink. A chair just didn’t enter into the picture.

  Alec couldn’t take his eyes off her. To look at her face, you would have thought she was enjoying some painstakingly prepared gourmet meal instead of a plain hamburger that had been whipped up in minutes and took pennies to make.

  After a beat, after that first initial hunger was appeased, Marissa could feel Alec’s eyes on her, even though hers were still closed. She opened them, looking at him. Alec didn’t look away. Instead he seemed rather amused. Marissa cocked her head, trying to guess what was on his mind.

  “What?” She raised her napkin to her face. “Do I have catsup on my chin?”

  He placed his hand over hers, lowering it. “No. I’ve just never seen anyone go into ecstasy over a hamburger before.”

  She laughed ruefully. “Sometimes I get so busy, I forget to eat. It’s nice to be reminded.” She allowed herself one more bite before she got down to business. Toying with a French fry, she raised her eyes to his. “So, what did you want to ask me about?”

  He watched the fry disappear between her lips and had to rouse himself to recapture his train of thought.

  “Monday, when I told you about my problem—finding a nanny,” he added quickly when he realized that there was no reason in the world for her to remember their conversation. There were at least twenty-five other parents in the group.

  “Yes?”

  “You said something about letting me know if you ran across a suitable candidate. I’m still looking for someone to take care of Andrea while I’m at work and I’d much rather have a personal recommendation from you than study testimonials from strangers I don’t know and will never meet.” A disparaging smile hovered on his lips. “For all I know, the references could come from friends of the applicants.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been burned.”

  “Toasted to a crisp,” he admitted. “I’ve had my share of bad nannies. And I only want the best for Andrea.

  Marissa smiled at Andrea. With her light, wispy blond hair, she looked like daddy’s little girl all the way. It was easy to see why he would dote on her. Marissa felt a pang she recognized as envy. It wasn’t in the Sergeant’s makeup to dote, or to do anything but criticize and register disapproval.

  Raising her eyes to look at him, she asked, “Who watches her now, while you’re at work?”

  “Roberta.”

  He’d already indicated that he wasn’t married. “Girlfriend?” she guessed. He probably favored someone tall and willowy. Blond, like his daughter and, probably, his wife.

  Alec smiled to himself. Knowing Roberta, she probably would have liked to have heard that. He shook his head. “Mother.”

  She looked at him, stunned. “You call your mother Roberta?”

  Taking another fry, he shrugged. “It’s her name. And she insists on it. I haven’t been allowed to call her anything else in years. She’s not exactly the domestic type.”

  And he wasn’t happy about that, Marissa thought, reading between the lines.

  Alec twirled the straw between his thumb and forefinger, remembering the way Roberta had looked as he’d pulled out of the driveway this evening. She had given a performance worthy of Greta Garbo in Camille and twice as melodramatic. She couldn’t take much more of this, she’d informed him. Andrea had almost given her and her beloved poodle a nervous breakdown.

  “She gave me twenty-four hours to find a nanny.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “So I was wondering if you knew of anyone at all who you might be able to recommend.”

  Marissa bit her lower lip, thinking. The c
lassified section was once again sticking out of her purse, reminding her that she still hadn’t had time to look through it. She had enough to deal with without trying to help Beckett with his problem, as well.

  Unless…

  Damn, how could she have been so thick? Being a nanny wasn’t exactly what she was aspiring to, but it was a good deal more preferable than trying to share quarters with Jeremy, the man who couldn’t take no for an answer, or hitting the bricks, looking for a place to stay and someone to share the rent with. Odds of finding a compatible roommate who didn’t mind an overenergized eighteen-month-old getting into everything were rather slim to nonexistent.

  If nothing else, it was worth a shot. She didn’t have anything to lose. If things didn’t work out, she would be no worse off than she was now. “You said the job was for a live-in?”

  “That’s what I’d prefer, but I’m flexible.” Another word for desperate, he thought.

  “Where would the nanny live, if she were to live in?” she pressed.

  “I have a guest house. It’s nothing big, but it would—”

  He said something further, but Marissa had stopped listening.

  A house. A guest house. That meant there had to be more than just one tiny bedroom. Christopher could have his own room rather than sleeping in what could have passed for a broom closet without the door. Hope burrowed into her breast and settled down for a long visit.

  Marissa leaned forward. “Mr. Beckett, I think I might be able to solve your problem.”

  And mine.

  Chapter Four

  Things didn’t just fall into place this well. Not for him. That would be too much to hope for. But what else could she mean?

  “Are you telling me that you’re going to take me up on my offer?”

  Even as he said it, Alec could feel a sense of relief taking over. He wasn’t going to have to sit through endless hours, trying to find the right person to look after his child after all. He would have kissed Marissa if he hadn’t restrained himself at the last moment.

  Funny how things never turned out quite the way you planned. She’d had the rest of the year all mapped out. And then a monkey wrench named Jeremy had fallen into the machinery. Still, things could be a lot worse. Beckett had walked into her life at just the right time.

  She smiled at the incredulous expression on his face. He looked like a man who had just gotten all six numbers right on his lottery ticket and was afraid to look down at the stub again.

  She put him out of his misery. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

  Thank God. Still, he was curious. “What made you change your mind?”

  She shrugged, finishing off her malt. She pushed her straw through the hole and placed the empty container back on the tray.

  She was stalling, he thought.

  Marissa really didn’t feel like getting into it. “Certain circumstances have changed since I last spoke to you.”

  She didn’t strike him like the wavering type. He would have thought that once she made up her mind, she would stick by her decision. “What kind of circumstances?”

  Friendly and outgoing, Marissa still didn’t like to share pieces of herself with people. Private things were supposed to remain private. She supposed that was the Sergeant’s training. The realization had her making an effort to ignore her natural tendencies. Besides, the man had a right to know a little background on the person he was entrusting his daughter to. She’d want to know things, if the tables were turned.

  Marissa picked up the empty straw casing and began folding it back and forth like an accordion. She avoided his eyes. “I suddenly find myself without a place to live. Jeremy’s coming home.” The last was a throwaway line, said more to herself than to him.

  “Jeremy?”

  Was that her ex-husband? A lover? He hadn’t thought of her as someone having a lover, only as this exuberant woman in bright-colored leggings. Of course, someone like her would have a lover. Women who looked like Marissa Rogers were at a premium, to be scooped up whenever they were unattached.

  Marissa could tell by his tone that Beckett didn’t understand. “It’s not what you think. Jeremy is a friend of a friend who went to New York to work in an off-off-Broadway play.” She repeated the term that Jeremy had bandied about cavalierly the night she moved in.

  Alec found it amusing. “Off-off-Broadway?”

  She nodded. “Off-off,” she repeated. “Probably in Brooklyn. Anyway, he couldn’t keep up payments on his apartment and rent one in New York, too, even if he was going to share the cost with roommates. So he sublet it to me. At the time he didn’t expect to be back until the end of the year.”

  A rueful smile lifted the corners of her mouth, making her lips extremely appealing. He studied her as she spoke, not realizing that he was staring.

  “I guess for him the year ended a little early.” She blew out a breath. “The play closed yesterday. He has no other prospects, so he’s coming home. He’s supposed to get here by the end of the week. Which means I have to find a place to live by then.”

  She said it so lightly, he got the impression that it was actually no big deal. But it had to be if she was agreeing to become Andrea’s nanny. Alec probed a little. By no means did he want to dissuade her. He just wanted to find out a little more about the situation. For Andrea’s sake.

  “You can’t share expenses with him?”

  She laughed. He didn’t know Jeremy. “Expenses, yes, space, no.” She remembered the last time she saw Jeremy—the only time they’d been alone. “Jeremy is a dancer and very agile.”

  He was lost. “What does that have to do with it?”

  If he had been there, he would have understood. “Jeremy can seem as if he’s in all places at the same time.” Holding her hands up in front of her, she crossed and recrossed them, like an ancient magician weaving a spell. “Specifically, my place. My space. Believe me, if there was any way I could stay, I would. I hate giving up the apartment.”

  “Nice area?” he guessed.

  “Lovely area, but it’s the convenience I’m thinking of. The apartment’s near the college. I can almost tumble out the front door and get to class before the late bell rings.” And some mornings, when things were particularly hectic, she really needed that proximity.

  She didn’t live far from him, Alec realized. It was a wonder their paths hadn’t crossed until now. Bedford was a growing area, but it wasn’t all that huge yet. They probably shopped at the same supermarket, he guessed. That practically made them neighbors.

  “Well, I can’t offer you that kind of convenience.” He grinned, envisioning her rolling head over heels. It wasn’t a stretch. He’d seen her tumbling on the trampoline with some of the older children. “Unless you don’t mind tumbling for a while, but I am still pretty close to the college. I live in the Cedarwood development. My house overlooks the lake.”

  She’d driven through Cedarwood countless times to get to the bookstore. The local association made certain that the residents kept up their homes so they looked perpetually new. The result was a lovely community that was a pleasure on the eyes. It would be a great place for Christopher to live, she thought.

  But something didn’t sound quite right. “I don’t remember those homes having guest houses.”

  “I had quarters added on over the garage and there’s another room just behind it, connected by a stairway. The lot has an odd shape, so there was plenty of room for renovations.” He planned to build a small playhouse in the backyard for Andrea in about a year or so, doing the work himself.

  The houses in that area were all two stories. “Why would you have built extra quarters?”

  Since they were finished eating, Alec rose and emptied the tray in the receptacle behind them. “It was a studio once.” He picked up the infant seat. Andrea stirred, pursing her lips as if she were sucking her bottle, but went on sleeping.

  Slinging her purse over her shoulder, Marissa cradled Christopher in his seat and followed. “Oh? What k
ind of a studio?”

  An image whispered across his mind. Christine at the easel, a smudge of paint on her hand. Blue. She’d referred to it by some artsy name when he pointed it out, but he didn’t have a head for things like that. To him, blue was blue.

  “Art studio. My wife painted.” Alec pushed the door open with his back, then stood holding it until Marissa walked through.

  She walked beside him to the car. “She doesn’t paint anymore?” Stupid, Marissa chastised herself as soon as the question was out. Beckett was obviously talking about his ex-wife.

  He looked down at Andrea as he tucked her seat into the rear of his car. “She doesn’t do anything anymore.”

  There was no emotion in his voice. He might as well have been reciting lines out of a play he was reading. He didn’t want to feel anything anymore. It was too exhausting.

  Alec concentrated on strapping the seat in. “My wife died giving birth to Andrea. Complications. She started hemorrhaging and before they could stop it, she went into shock, and then cardiac arrest. They tell me that things like that are very rare.” Finished, he straightened and looked directly into her eyes. His voice was hollow, divorced from the rest of him. The only indication that he felt anything at all was in his eyes. They were moist. “All it takes is once.”

  Oh, God, she had walked into that one with both feet. Marissa felt absolutely awful. Still holding Christopher and his seat against her, she touched Alec’s arm in a mute gesture of comfort.

  “Oh, Alec, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” She bit her lip, wishing she could have bitten off her tongue. “I was just curious about the studio.”

  Her sympathy embarrassed him. He should have just passed off her question lightly, given her any answer, not played true confessions. But Alec hadn’t known he was going to say what he had until the words were out. It wasn’t her fault that her question had stirred up memories.

  “That’s all right, you didn’t know.” He helped her position Christopher’s seat beside Andrea’s. Alec had driven them to Squirrely Joe’s. Marissa’s car was still in the Y’s parking lot. “Anyway, it was a lucky thing I had the studio added on. It’s perfect for a live-in nanny. That way, we each have our privacy and yet you’re right there when I need you.”