Daddy By Surprise

“I’ll have to get you to autograph a copy for me,” Lucy went on.

“Any time.” Devin cleared his throat. “Well, nice to have met you all.” He nodded to Molly, winked at Sam, then climbed on his Harley.

All four of them watched him ride off, his dark hair whipping about in a strong morning breeze.

Gloria was the first to speak as she turned to her oldest daughter. “Molly, you didn’t know he was a famous writer?”

She shrugged. “He’d told me he was a writer, but I didn’t ask what he wrote.”

Lucy exchanged a knowing glance with their mother. “Of course you didn’t. I’m surprised you knew his name, as cautious as you are.”

Molly felt she had to defend herself as she led the way into her apartment. “I only met him two days ago.”

“Leave her alone, Lucy,” Gloria admonished. “Now that Molly knows he’s an important writer, besides being quite a hunk, she’ll warm up to him.”

Whether he’d written War and Peace or drove a garbage truck, Molly knew she had no intention of warming up to Devin Gray. Not wanting to have this same old discussion again, knowing full well that both her mother and sister were critical of her hands-off-men policy, she decided to bring a little levity into play. “Mom! A hunk! I can’t believe you said that.” Holding the roasting pan on one arm, she slipped the other around her mother and hugged her. “There may be snow on the roof, but there’s still fire in the heart, eh?”

“Well, I’m not dead nor am I blind. He’s a very attractive man, Molly. And he probably makes a pile of money. You could do worse.” She stepped through the door Molly held open.

“You saw him for five minutes and you think I should set my cap for him?” She loved her mother, but her constant nagging that she should find a good man to take care of her rather than work so hard got on Molly’s nerves. She’d had a so-called good man, and where had it gotten her?

“Who said anything about permanence?” Lucy asked with a grin. “You don’t have to marry him to have a little fun with him. I’m going to have to get his books. I wonder if he’s a sexy writer.”

Molly set the roasting pan down on the kitchen counter. “So, you haven’t read his books?”

“Not yet, but I intend to. I’ll bring them over after I finish so you can read them, too.”

Molly wasn’t altogether sure she wanted to read what Devin Gray had written. It would indicate more interest in him than she was willing to admit to.

Determined to put her neighbor out of her mind, she took Sam’s hand. “How about the grand tour, which should take all of five minutes? The apartment’s not real big, but it’s sunny and clean and close to work.”

“I think it’s charming,” Gloria commented, leading the way.

By four that afternoon, Devin had had it. He had a crick in his neck and his shoulders ached. He’d been at the computer since he’d returned with The Times, leaving it to read later. On his ride, he’d worked out one of his plot problems, an old habit of his, and he’d gone to work immediately after returning. Finally, he was back on track.

Rolling his shoulders, he saved his material and shut off the computer. His rumbling stomach reminded him he hadn’t put anything in it lately except several cups of coffee. In the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and examined its pitiful contents. It looked very much like he’d be having canned soup and a glass of milk again. He really had to go grocery shopping tomorrow.

As he grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table, he heard King give out several playful barks. The German shepherd was three years old and not much of a barker. Chewing, Devin sauntered out onto his back porch. He couldn’t have been more surprised at the sight that greeted his eyes.

Molly was hanging sheets on the clothesline with King trailing her every step. Devin could hear her talking to him, though he couldn’t make out what she was saying. He saw her reach to take the stick from King’s mouth, then throw it across the yard before bending to her clothes basket for a pillowcase.

The big dog raced across the grass, picked up the stick and hurried back to her. Smiling down at him, she petted his large head, then reached to secure the pillowcase. Devin could swear he saw King move close to Molly and nuzzle up against her bare legs. How had she managed to win his dog over in a couple of short days?

She was wearing a long yellow top that came nearly to the hem of her white shorts. She had incredibly long and very shapely legs. Definitely a distraction, one that got his juices flowing every time he looked at her. Watching her bend down to hug King’s head, Devin felt a foolish flash of jealousy. How far gone was he that he was beginning to envy a dog? he wondered.

As Molly gathered up her basket and spare clothes-pins, Devin went down the stairs and met her at the gate. “Don’t you ever let up, take a break, maybe sit down and relax? I hear you moving around down there constantly. I would imagine you’re exhausted.” She didn’t look exhausted, just a little warm. The temperature had to be over ninety.

“Not really. I needed to get settled in since I have early shift tomorrow morning.” He was wearing a black T-shirt over gray knit shorts and hadn’t bothered to shave. The word hunk that her mother had used floated back to her. Yeah, it fit. “I hope I’m not making so much noise I’m disturbing you.” The house had to be at least thirty years old with a few squeaky floors and air vents that allowed some sounds to travel between the two units. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from writing the great American novel.”

He saw her mouth twitch and realized she was teasing him. “Not to worry. My books will never become required reading in school. Purely escape stuff. And you’re not disturbing me.”

“Good.” He seemed genuinely modest, had seemed uncomfortable at Lucy’s comments. She liked that about him. She felt King’s wet nose at her back through the cyclone fencing, turned and smiled before raising a hand to acknowledge him.

“I see you made friends with King.”

“Yes. He’s quite the sweetheart when you get to know him.”

Devin glanced over at the pool, shimmering in the late afternoon sun. “I was just thinking of cooling off with a swim. Want to join me?”

Molly had no trouble picturing that hard, masculine body in a swimsuit. “Thanks, but I’ve still got some things to do.” Carrying her basket, she walked off. “Have a good swim.”

Damned if he wouldn’t, Devin thought. It would have been nice to have company, but he’d go alone. He needed the exercise.

Molly stood at her kitchen window, gazing out through the gauzy curtains she’d brought over from her former apartment, watching Devin do laps in the pool. He was big and looked very strong with not an ounce of fat on him. She’d been counting and was up to twenty. Finally, he eased out and brushed his wet hair back with both hands as water dripped from the dark curls on his chest and legs. He turned to straighten a lounge chair while Molly admired the smooth skin of his back, the muscles rippling as he moved. He sat down in the chair and leaned back, closing his eyes and letting the hot sun dry him.

Her hands trembled ever so slightly as she wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers over those broad shoulders, to examine that deep cleft in his chin. It had been so long since she’d touched a man, or allowed one to touch her. That brief moment when he’d first introduced her to his dog, the nearness of his big body close to hers, the way his hand had lingered on hers, had awakened a dormant need. She would deny it if asked, often denied it even to herself, yet there were times like now that she longed for that strong male touch that was like no other. A man who could make her want and need and ache.

Like she was aching now.

Four years she’d been married to Lee Summers, and there had been some good times at the beginning. He’d been very attractive, too, and very aware of it. Yet she’d learned the hard way that even strong, attractive men have their weaknesses. Lee’s had killed any feelings she’d had for him.

Gazing now at Devin Gray, she could easily see his attraction, his strengths. And she couldn’t help wondering what his weaknesses were.

Chapter Three

Monday morning, with one eye on the clock, Molly grabbed a box of cereal and her canvas bag before heading out the door. Settling behind the wheel, she inserted the key and turned it. A few chugging sounds, then nothing.

“Ah, c’mon, Bessie,” she coaxed. “I can’t be late today after Hank gave me the whole weekend off.” Usually she had to work either Saturday or Sunday. More gently, she tried again, knowing that sometimes when the car hadn’t been driven in a couple of days, old Bess took her sweet time. However, not even a gasp on the second try. The menacing red light on the dash flashed on.

“Damn!” she muttered under her breath before getting out and propping up the hood. Leaning under, Molly made a quick assessment and moaned out loud. “Not today!”

“Having a problem?” asked a deep, masculine voice at her elbow.

Recognizing the voice’s owner, Molly didn’t even look up. “You could say that.”

“I take it she won’t start. Want me to take a look?” Devin offered. Although she looked cute in her neat white blouse and black slacks, trying not to get dirty as she stared into the innards of the Honda, he could all but see steam rising from her in frustration.

“I know what’s wrong,” Molly muttered in exasperation.

“You do?” Most women he’d run across knew zip about car engines. “What is it then?”

“The alternator.” Molly removed her blond head from beneath the hood. “I knew it was on its last legs, but I’d hoped it would hold out another few paydays.” There went her carefully planned budget. Ken at the auto repair service had warned her, but she’d stubbornly held out.

Not convinced she knew an alternator from a radiator, Devin persisted. “Mind if I try anyhow?”

“Suit yourself,” Molly said, wondering whom she could call to beg a ride from.

Devin got behind the wheel and gave the key a couple of useless tries, then noticed the red warning light. He got back out. “Could be your starter, or maybe a broken belt. But more likely your alternator.”

“Yes, I know.”

Puzzled, he studied her. “How do you know so much about cars? Your dad teach you? Maybe a boyfriend?”

Molly shot him a withering glance. “I took a night course in auto mechanics. Much more reliable.” She checked her watch. “Of all days…”

“Listen, it’ll probably have to be towed in to be fixed. That may take awhile. I can give you a ride to work, if you don’t mind riding double on a Harley.” Hands on his hips, he stood watching her. Daring her.

He thought he had her, that she’d sooner walk than ride a motorcycle, Molly thought. He was wrong. She smiled at him. “Thanks. I’d love to.” She grabbed her bag and box of cereal before following him to his bike.

“What’s with the cereal?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Breakfast.” To demonstrate, she stuck her hand in, came out with a fistful of Cheerios which she proceeded to eat. “Fast, efficient and good for you.”

“Uh-huh.” He bent to undo his lock. “Ever ridden one of these?”

Her gaze swept over the huge black-and-chrome machine, but her expression didn’t change. “Not recently. Once, in college, I rode double on a Kawasaki.” She’d done it on a dare and found it fun after her initial fright. She’d done a lot of dumb things in college.

“Well, then, you’re an old hand.” Devin saw the hesitation in her eyes and wondered if she’d woven a story to impress him. One thing he felt was true about Molly Shipman even on short acquaintance was that her independent streak wouldn’t allow her to back down from a challenge.

“Hold on a minute.” Quickly, he ran up to his apartment and was back in short order carrying a white helmet. “You need to put this on.”

“You don’t wear one,” she commented. It was only a couple of miles to the café and that stupid thing would really mess up her hair.

“You’re right and I should. If you want to ride with me, however, you’ll put this on.” It was one thing to risk his own neck and quite another to endanger someone else’s. He didn’t wait for any more arguments but unfastened the strap and slipped the helmet over her head.

The backs of his fingers touched the silk of her hair as he tucked in loose strands. Yes, just as soft as he’d imagined. While she stood perfectly still, he fastened the chin strap in place. Her eyes stayed on his face, making him wonder what she was thinking. He took her bag and cereal box, placing them in the leather tote attached to the back of his bike. “There, all set.”

Devin shoved up the kickstand and mounted, scooting forward on the generous seat. “Okay, climb on behind me.”

Molly hesitated for just a moment, wondering if she’d made a mistake accepting this ride. Probably Trisha could have come over for her by now and they’d be on their way. Taking Devin up on his offer meant she owed him now, and she hated that feeling. However, it was a little late for second thoughts.

Pulling up her pantlegs ever so slightly, she swung a leg over and behind him. The slope of the seat had her scooting right up against his hard body. She felt her pulse take a wild leap as she stared at the back of his head. “Now what?”

Devin pointed out the metal footrests on each side and bent to guide one shoe in place to demonstrate. “Now put your arms around my waist and hang on.”

The roar of the engine as it caught was loud in her ears. There was no turning back now. Molly slipped her arms around his broad back, her hands coming to rest at his sides which caused her torso to slide even closer. She felt the heat rise in her face.

“Not like that.” Devin took her hands and pulled them as far to the front of him as they would reach. “Like that. If you don’t hang on real tight, you’ll fly off if we hit a bump.” Which wasn’t exactly so, but sounded good. “I’m your only anchor so stay close.”

Sprawled across the back of him, Molly couldn’t imagine getting much closer. Beneath her hands, she could feel his ribcage under the thin cotton shirt he wore. Her breasts were flattened against his back, her head turned to the side and pressed to him. This was definitely not how she remembered her last ride in her college days.

Fighting a grin she couldn’t see anyway, Devin started the Harley down the drive as he raised his feet. She’d all but disappeared against his back so that he couldn’t see her in his rearview mirrors. But he could feel her.

Despite the thrumming of the bike, he could feel her heart rapidly beating against his back, could feel the soft flesh of her breasts as they pressed through the thin material of her blouse. He could feel her small, capable hands gripping his shirt in front as if holding on to a lifeline. And he could feel her warm breath as she exhaled in short puffs, revealing her anxiety.

“You okay?” Devin shouted, glancing over his shoulder as he swung onto Thomas Road.

‘Fine,” Molly answered, her voice quavery. The huge machine seemed to hum with a life of its own, causing her body to tremble in rhythm with it. Or was it the nearness of the man plastered to her in a closeness she never would have permitted off the cycle? She drew in a deep breath and smelled soap and the clean scent of man. She felt her heart gallop even faster.

Unbidden, Molly felt her senses stir and come alive. Here she was, curled around a very masculine form after vowing she’d never again put herself in that position. And worse yet, her traitorous body was enjoying the ride far more than her cautious mind. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes.

Would they never get there? Molly wondered.

Devin wondered if he dared take a circuitous route, whether or not she’d notice. He found himself not wanting to stop, let her off and watch her walk away. Despite all his protests to the contrary, his constant affirmations that work had to come first, he had to admit that he was losing the battle. Not until recently did he realize how very much he’d missed the closeness of a woman.

Boiling it down even further, the nearness of this woman. For there was something about Molly that had him thinking soft thoughts, daydreaming, planning seductions. He wanted to sneak past all the barriers she’d put up since her divorce. He wanted to know more about her so he could figure how best to approach her. He wanted her to willingly and knowingly put her arms around him, not just because she didn’t want to fall off his bike. Now that he’d had the pleasure of being close to her, he wanted more.

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