The Baby Bargain Page 10

  "Well, you're sleeping on the sofa."

  "The sofa and I are getting along just fine." Dan nodded his thanks as the waitress topped off his coffee. "If that's why you're talking about moving out, forget it."

  Kelly stirred a French fry through the catsup, her eyes on the aimless movement. "You never planned on me staying with you. That was just because—because of what happened."

  "I thought we'd been getting along pretty well together."

  "We have. I mean, you've been very nice. But I don't want to intrude. I know you'd like to have your bed back. And you're probably sick of having me underfoot."

  "You're not underfoot," Dan said, sounding vaguely irritable.

  "Well, it wasn't part of the plan..."

  "Would you stop making it sound like a war document?" Forgetting that the waitress had just filled his cup, he picked up his coffee, taking a gulp.,

  "Dammit!" He set the cup down with a bang, cursing again as the scalding liquid splashed out onto his hand. Snatching up a paper napkin he dabbed at the burn.

  His scowl brought a familiar tightness to Kelly's stomach. She lowered her hands to her lap.

  "I'm sorry."

  "What are you apologizing for?" Dan looked at her, one eyebrow raised. "Because I'm a clumsy idiot?"

  "I didn't mean to upset you,"

  "You didn't upset me. I mean you did but I'm not upset upset. Oh, for crying out loud." He tossed the napkin down in disgust "Just because I get upset doesn't mean I'm mad at you and it sure as hell doesn't mean I'm going to start pounding on you."

  His words startled her into looking at him. "I know that"

  "Do you? Then why is it that I end up feeling like Dra-cula?"

  "I don't know," she answered honestly.

  "Probably my own guilty conscience," Dan muttered. "Look, do you want to move out?"

  "I...that was the idea."

  "I know that was the idea. But I've given it some thought and I'm not sure it's such a great idea. I could find you a place but I don't like the idea of you living alone. What if you got sick or fell?"

  "Lots of pregnant women live alone," she pointed out, not exactly arguing.

  "Not while they're carrying my child," he said firmly. "I want you to stay with me."

  "I'd be fine on my own."

  "But you're not going to be on your own."

  Kelly pushed away her half-eaten meal. "I don't want to intrude on your life like that."

  "Intrude on my life? You're carrying my baby."

  "Do you think I can forget that?" she snapped. Did he have to bring it up all the time? She could never pretend, even for an instant, that he was here because he wanted to be with her. Did he think she didn't remember that she was pregnant? There was never a moment when she could forget it, never a moment when her emotions didn't seesaw back and forth over it.

  She stared out the window at the overcast sky, wishing she could get up and walk away. But there was nowhere to go, no one she could turn to. And the sad fact was that a part of her didn't even want to go.

  "Kelly? Do you really want to move out?"

  "Yes. No. I don't know." She shrugged, irritated that she couldn't answer more firmly.

  "That's what I like, a really decisive answer." Dan's voice held a gentle amusement that only confused her more. Every shred of common sense said that she couldn't possibly like him. He'd torn her life apart, though she was willing to admit to sharing the responsibility for that. Still, she'd been the one to bear the punishment for their carelessness. She was the one whose body was going through changes that left her off balance and irritable.

  She should dislike him. She wanted to dislike him. And then he'd look at her with that quiet amusement lurking in his eyes—such very blue eyes—and she'd remember the way he'd smiled at her New Year's Eve.

  Even worse was the one occasion when she'd come out of the bedroom and found herself nearly nose to nose with Dan's bare chest. He'd just showered and the heady scent of soap and after-shave had enveloped her, sweeping her back, making her remember the feeling of his arms around her, the taste of his

  mouth, the way his hands had seemed to know her body in ways she'd never imagined.

  No, she didn't want to live with him until the baby was born. She wanted to put some distance between them. She needed to put some distance between them.

  "No, I don't necessarily want to move out." The voice seemed to come from someone else. That couldn't possibly be her talking.

  "Then what's the problem?" Dan asked, hearing the hesitation in her voice.

  "I just feel like I'm some sort of charity case," she said, the words almost bursting from her. "I mean, I'm living in your house, I'm eating food you buy, wearing clothes you bought me. I don't do anything."

  "You're not a charity case." Dan reached across the table, catching one of her hands in his. He felt her start, just as she always did at his touch, but he didn't release her this time. "Kelly, when I asked you not to have an abortion, I told you I'd take care of you."

  "I know. But I didn't expect it to be like this."

  "How did you expect it to be?"

  "I thought I'd get a job or something," she said, aware that she sounded vague to die point of foolishness. How could she explain that she hadn't been thinking with any clarity then? All she'd seen was that he was offering her the only out she had, the only escape for her and the baby she was carrying.

  "What kind of a job?"

  "Working in a bookstore or something. I don't know," she said, exasperated. "I don't know what I thought. But I feel like a parasite."

  "You're not a parasite." Dan's hand tightened over hers. "The fact that you're pregnant is as much my fault as it is yours—more. It's only right that I take care of you."

  He made it sound so reasonable. Kelly stared at their joined hands, noticing how his palm engulfed her fingers. It was a secure feeling. Too secure. She pulled her hand away from his, sitting back in the booth.

  "I can't just sit around for the next seven months," she said.

  "Okay." Dan leaned back, a sudden sparkle in his eyes. "Can you cook?"

  "Yes. Nothing gourmet, but I can cook."

  "Then you can be in charge of meals," he said, his smile suggesting that the problem was solved.

  "It's not going to take me all day to cook meals for two people. I'll do the housework, too."

  Dan frowned and Kelly knew he was thinking that housework might be too much for her. She set her jaw. Maybe he saw the look or maybe he was tired of the argument. Whatever the reason, he nodded slowly.

  "All right. You can cook and do the housework, as long as you don't do anything too strenuous. No heavy lifting or anything like that."

  Kelly nodded, feeling a small glow of triumph. She felt as if she'd won an important point. All her life, she'd let other people dictate what she was going to do. It was time she started taking charge, at least in a small way.

  It didn't occur to her that it was rather remarkable that she felt secure enough with Dan to argue with him. She had, without being conscious of it, come to believe that she was safe with him, that he wouldn't explode in a fit of fury if she dared to disagree.

  The tangled memories of New Year's Eve were slowly being overlaid with newer, gentler impressions. He'd been kind and considerate with her, treating her as if she were made of spun glass. Even if his main concern was for the baby, he'd done his best to put her at ease.

  Whether she liked it or not, her life was inescapably entwined with his. No matter what happened in the next few months, they'd created a life together. Nothing could ever change that. Nothing could ever fully dissolve that tie.

  "I don't need clothes," Kelly protested, hanging back as Dan started toward the mall. They had finished their lunch before Dan sprang the news that they were going shopping. He stopped and turned to look at her.

  "You can't spend all your time in my jeans or that dress."

  "I could make some things, then."

  "I don't own a sewin
g machine," Dan pointed out. "Are you going to make everything by hand?"

  She lingered next to the Corvette as if it were home, regarding the mall with a combination of fascination and fear. She hadn't gone into a store to buy something brand-new for herself since her mother died. Since then, what few garments she owned had been purchased at the thrift store that hunkered uneasily on the north end of town. She doubted if Dan had ever even been in a thrift store.

  Kelly stroked her hand over the full skirt of the dress he'd bought her, the first new dress she'd had in six years. Now he was talking about buying more clothes. The thought made the breath catch in her throat.

  "What's wrong?" Dan came back to stand next to her. Her head was bent, the smooth length of her hair falling forward in a dark curtain that concealed her face.

  "I don't really need clothes," she said, her fingers lingering over the soft cotton of her dress.

  "If you don't like that dress, that's okay. You can choose your own wardrobe. I won't say a word."

  "Oh, no, I love the dress." She lifted wide eyes to him, afraid that she'd hurt his feelings. "It's the most beautiful thing Fve ever owned."

  "Then what's the problem? I can afford this, Kelly. You don't have to worry about my bank balance."

  She gave in because it was easier than arguing, easier than trying to explain feelings she wasn't quite sure she understood herself. Everything in her life had changed so quickly she felt as if she was running to catch up with it. He was right. She was going to need a few more things. Some inexpensive, practical garments that would wear well. Not too much, just enough to keep her decent.

  Dan, however, had other ideas. His idea of "enough" was quite a bit different from Kelly's. Leading her into the most expensive department store in the mall, he found the women's department and waved a vague hand, telling her to get whatever she wanted. He handed her a credit card, the first she'd ever

  held in her life. When he turned to leave, Kelly had to clench her hands to keep from grabbing his sleeve.

  "Are you leaving?" There was an edge of panic in the question. Dan turned to look at her, his face full of concern.

  "I was going to get a pair of shoes. I figured you'd probably rather do this without me. You want me to stay?"

  "No. No, of course not. I just..." She trailed off, drawing a deep breath before continuing. "How much should I spend?"

  "Whatever you need to spend. I don't think you're likely to break me."

  She watched him leave with the feeling that she was a shipwreck victim watching the last lifeboat sail away. The strength of the feeling bothered her. She was depending on him too much. If she was going to put her life in some kind of order, she had to remember to depend only on herself.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she turned toward the racks of clothes. The array of colors and styles was dazzling, the prices shocking. She wandered through the aisles, her head spinning with the choices in front of her. It was almost ten minutes before she found the courage to touch anything. The royal-blue silk of a blouse spilled over her hand, almost too beautiful to be real. The price tag was very real, however.

  With a sigh, she turned away from the blouse and went to find a less expensive selection of merchandise. She'd been clutching the credit card so tightly, it had left marks in her hand. Easing her grip, she slipped it carefully into her dress pocket.

  When Dan found her half an hour later, Kelly was standing by the doors, one bag sitting on the floor next to her.

  "Is that all you bought?"

  "Yes. Did you find your shoes?"

  "Shoes? Oh, I didn't need shoes. I just thought you might prefer to shop on your own." He frowned down at the bag. "Did you get enough?"

  "Yes. Here's your receipt. I hope I didn't spend too much." She handed him the credit card and receipt as if handing over the royal treasury. She chewed at her lower lip as Dan read the receipt Her heart sank when his frown deepened.

  "Forty dollars? You spent forty dollars?"

  "I'm sorry. Everything was so expensive." Her voice shook. How many times had she stood before her father while he castigated her for extravagance at the grocery store? For an instant, Dan's broad shoulders were replaced by her father's more wiry frame, his deep voice booming out at her, telling her she'd failed yet again.

  "What did you buy?"

  "I can return it. I knew it was too much." Her hands twisted together, her eyes reflected her distress.

  "Kelly." Dan reached out to catch her hands, holding them despite her automatic withdrawal. "Kelly, I'm not upset with you for spending too much money. I'm not angry."

  "You're not?" She stopped trying to pull back, her eyes lifting to his.

  "No, I'm not. Just tell me what you bought."

  "Two blouses and a pair of pants. They have elastic at the waist, so they'll stretch when I...I mean when my..." She broke off, feeling her cheeks warm as they always did at any reference to her pregnancy.

  "Two blouses and a pair of pants. No dresses? Underwear? Shoes?" When she shook her head in answer to each of his questions, his hands tightened momentarily on hers, something close to anger flickering in his eyes before he released her. "Why didn't you buy any of those things?"

  "Well, I don't really need them," she said uncertainly. This whole conversation was confusing. He wasn't angry that she'd spent what seemed to her to be an extraordinary sum of money. Instead, he seemed upset that she hadn't bought more.

  "Kelly, you need a complete wardrobe," Dan said at last, his voice carefully level. He thrust his fingers through his hair. "You can't get by on only one pair of pants, two blouses and this dress." He waved his hand in the direction of the dress she was wearing. "And the shoes I bought you are too big."

  Kelly curled her toes inside the flats he'd bought to go with the dress. There were blisters forming on the backs of her heels where the shoes had rubbed but she hadn't thought he could know that.

  "I've got my old dress," she offered, not quite sure why he was upset.

  "No, you don't I threw it away." Kelly gasped. "And I threw away that hideous coat, too," he added with satisfaction.

  "You threw away my clothes?"

  "You said they didn't have any sentimental value."

  "There was nothing wrong with them."

  "Did you want to wear them?"

  "I...there was nothing wrong with them," she repeated.

  "They didn't fit and they were ugly," he said bluntly. "And you're going to need more clothes than what you've bought."

  "No, I don't." She didn't move when he bent to pick up the bag and turned back into the store. "I can manage with what I've got."

  "Kelly, I don't want you to 'manage.'" Dan set the bag down again. "I want you to be comfortable. I want you to be happy."

  Kelly lowered her eyes, blinking back tears. It had been a long time since anyone had worried about whether or not she was happy. "I have enough."

  "No, you don't. I told you I could afford this. I wouldn't tell you I could if I couldn't"

  "It's not that." She was aware of the woman behind the makeup counter giving them curious looks. She felt awkward and self-conscious.

  "Are we back to the problem of not taking charity?" Dan asked. "You can look on the clothes as part of a salary, if you like. You have to have something to wear while you're cooking and cleaning. And I might as well confess right up front that I'm going to give you money, too."

  "It's too much," she protested in a strangled tone, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears.

  "I haven't even said how much I'm going to give you. How can it be too much?"

  "Not just that. The clothes, everything." She shook her head when she couldn't find the words. "It's not right"

  "What isn't right?" He leaned closer, shielding her from prying eyes, his voice gentle.

  "All this. I don't deserve all this. It's sinful," she burst out at last

  "Why is it sinful? You're not hurting anyone."

  "What I did was wrong and now it's like I'm being re
warded for it"

  "Stop it." Dan's voice held more force than seemed possible for such a quiet tone. He reached out to catch her chin, tilting her face up to his. "We did something foolish, but it wasn't a sin. God's not lurking on high to smack us for it.

  "You didn't do anything that deserves punishment, and if you had then surely what your father did was punishment enough. We made a mistake and we're doing the best we can to make things right. We can't do anything more than that, right? Right?" he repeated when she didn't respond.

  "I guess." Caught in the brilliant blue of his eyes, Kelly would have agreed with almost anything he said. She felt an odd tingling where his hand touched her chin, a tingle that seemed to spread throughout her body, making her almost dizzy. It must be because she was pregnant, she thought. Hormones or something.

  "Now we're going to go buy you clothes. And you're not going to look at price tags. We're not going to buy anything remotely practical. And nothing in gray," he added firmly, thinking of the baggy gray dress that she'd come to him in.

  "It just doesn't seem right," she said, not really protesting.

  "Let me worry about it." Dan's hand shifted, cupping her cheek as he leaned down, so close that she could feel his breath against her mouth. "If there's a sin, it will be mine. Okay?"

  "Okay," she said hesitantly, aware that it was an argument she didn't truly want to win. If she were honest, then she had to admit to a bubble of excitement at the thought of actually owning some of the wonderfully beautiful clothes she'd hardly dared to touch.

  "Good." Dan's smile started in his eyes. Kelly felt an actual shiver run up her spine. His hand still lingered against her cheek. He'd held her face like that on New Year's Eve, his palm against her cheek as he'd kissed her. For an instant, the

  .

  104 The Baby Bargain

  memory was so vivid she felt her mouth softening as if in anticipation of his.

  Dan's smile faded, his eyes suddenly searching. She wondered if he remembered, too. The thought made her skin heat and she lowered her eyes, afraid of what he might see.

  "Kelly." There was an intensity in his voice that hadn't been there a moment ago.

  She wasn't destined to find out what he might have said.