Baby at His Convenience

“You’re Going To Help Me Have A Child?” Katie Asked Cautiously.

“I spent most of the night thinking about it, and if you’re agreeable, then yes, I’ll help you.”

“Agreeable? Just what would I be agreeing to?”

“I want joint custody,” Jeremiah said. “This will be the only child I ever have. I intend to be part of his life.”

Katie considered what he said. “I suppose we could work out—”

He held out his hand. “Before you agree, you’d better hear me out.”

“You have more stipulations?” she asked incredulously.

“Just one.”

“Why do I get the idea I’m not going to like your next demand?”

He shrugged. “You never know. You might enjoy it.”

A fresh wave of goose bumps slid along her arms and every instinct in her being told her to turn and run as far and as fast as she possibly could in the opposite direction. Instead, she swallowed hard and asked, “What is it?”

Jeremiah nodded. “I’d make love to you until you became pregnant.”

Baby at His Convenience

Kathie DeNosky

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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KATHIE DENOSKY

lives in her native southern Illinois with her husband and one very spoiled Jack Russell terrier. She writes highly sensual stories with a generous amount of humor. Kathie’s books have appeared on the Waldenbooks bestseller list and received the Write Touch Readers’ Award from WisRWA and the National Readers’ Choice Award. She enjoys going to rodeos, traveling to research settings for her books and listening to country music. Readers may contact Kathie at: P.O. Box 2064, Herrin, Illinois 62948-5264 or e-mail her at [e-mail].

To my mother, Margie Ridings, who loves the Smoky Mountains as much as I do.

And to the memory of Charles and Barbara Anne Henson. May your legacy of love and laughter live on in the lives of your children.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

One

Dr. Braden’s gently worded warning still echoed in Katie Andrews’s ears as she stepped out of the Dixie Ridge Clinic into the bright June sunshine.

“With your family history of early menopause, I’m afraid time might be running out for you, Katie. If you intend to have children, it’s time to start looking at your options.”

At the age of thirty-four, most women weren’t faced with the possibility of going through the change of life for at least ten or fifteen years. Unfortunately, Katie wasn’t one of them. Every one of her female relatives had started into menopause by the time they were thirty-six. By the time they turned forty, they’d completed the change and their baby-making years were permanently behind them.

Katie bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling. It might already be too late for her to have a child. Her sister Carol Ann and her husband waited until they were in their mid-thirties and had to resort to fertility drugs in order for Carol Ann to become pregnant. The result had been a set of quadruplets.

Katie took a deep, shuddering breath. Although she wanted to have more than one child, she would much rather have them one at a time, instead of all at once. Poor Carol Ann had been so overwhelmed by the demands of taking care of four infants that their parents had left Katie to manage the Blue Bird Café for them, and moved out to California to help their stressed out oldest daughter.

Glancing at her watch, she stuffed the brochure Dr. Braden had given her into her shoulder bag. She’d have to put her baby-making crisis on hold until she closed the café this afternoon.

Right now, she was needed back at the Blue Bird. And if she didn’t get there before the lunch rush, Helen McKinney would probably quit on the spot and Katie’s parents would never forgive her for losing the best short-order cook in all of eastern Tennessee.

A distant rumble from down the road grew louder and just as she was about to cross the road, a big, shiny red-and-black Harley Davidson roared into a parking space in front of the Blue Bird. The man riding the powerful machine nodded when Katie hurried passed him on the way to the café’s entrance, but she couldn’t say he actually looked her way as he turned off the motorcycle and removed his mirrored sunglasses.

That wasn’t unusual. Since riding into town two months ago, Jeremiah Gunn hadn’t become friendly with anyone but Harv Jenkins. In fact, all that anyone seemed to know about him was that he’d moved into Granny Applegate’s old place up on Piney Knob and came down every day to eat lunch and talk fly-fishing with Harv. Otherwise, the big man kept to himself. And if his body language was any indication, he wanted it to stay that way.

But to her surprise, when she started to open the café door, a long muscular arm reached around her to take hold of the handle. Glancing over her shoulder, she swallowed hard. It was the first time she’d stood this close to the mysterious Mr. Gunn and she was shocked to find that she had to look up to meet his chocolate-brown gaze. At a fraction of an inch shorter than six feet tall herself, that didn’t happen often.

His chest barely brushing her shoulders as he pulled the door open, caused her skin to tingle. “Th-thank you, Mr. Gunn,” she stammered, unsure of why she suddenly felt so rattled.

“The name’s Jeremiah.” There was no trace of emotion in his deep baritone, but the sound of it made her heart skip a beat.

Hurrying into the café, Katie put distance between them. Something about being close to the man made her knees weak and had her wondering if she’d lost her mind.

“It’s about time you showed up,” Helen McKinney called through the open window behind the lunch counter. “I’m already covered up with orders.”

“I’m sorry,” Katie apologized. She shoved her purse beneath the counter and reached for an apron hanging on a peg beside the cash register. “Doc was running a little late with his morning appointments.”

Helen’s irritated expression instantly turned to one of concern. “Are you all right?”

Katie nodded. “It was just my annual physical and other than being about fifty pounds heavier than I should be, I’m as healthy as a horse.”

Helen shook her head as she ladled white gravy over a mound of mashed potatoes and country-fried steak. “I don’t pay any attention to those height and weight charts. I don’t know who makes those things up or where they live, but it for darned sure isn’t in the real world. I’d look like an understuffed scarecrow if I weighed what the danged things say is right for my height.” She pushed the plate through the window for Katie to serve. “This goes to Harv.” She reached for another plate. “Don’t worry about the others. I’ve got everyone’s order except for Silent Sam over there, talkin’ fly-fishin’ with Harv.”

Nodding, Katie placed Harv’s food on the serving tray, then grabbed an order pad and pencil. “Jeremiah usually asks for the day’s special.”

“Jeremiah?” Helen cocked an eyebrow and stopped spooning green beans onto a plate to stare at Katie. “Did I miss somethin’? When did you get to be so friendly with him?”

“I’m not,” Katie insisted, careful to keep her voice low. “But he’s been coming here nearly every day for the past two months. It just doesn’t seem right to keep calling him Silent Sam.”

“Why Katie Andrews, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were sweet on him,” Helen said, her hazel eyes twinkling merrily.

“Oh good heavens, Helen,” Katie said impatiently. Why did she suddenly feel so uncharacteristically flustered? “I’m too old to have a crush on anyone.”

Grinning, Helen whispered, “You’re a woman and you’re still breathin’ ain’t you?” Before Katie could respond, she added, “Shoot, if I wasn’t married to Jim, I might even be tempted to set my sights on that one. As my daughter and her friends always say, he’s hotter than a firecracker on the Fourth of July.”

Katie gave her friend a wan smile. “We don’t have time for this, Helen. We have a café full of people waiting for their food.”

“Hittin’ a little too close to home for you, Katie?” Helen asked, laughing.

“You’re not even in the same ball park.” Turning, Katie started around the counter to serve Harv his fried steak. “Now, get back to work, Helen.”

Katie cringed as Helen’s delighted cackle followed her across the café. The woman wasn’t buying her disinterest in Jeremiah Gunn for a minute. But what disturbed her more than anything was the fact that she was having a hard time believing it herself.

Harv Jenkins droned on about the advantages of fly-fishing the smaller streams over one of the larger tributaries like Piney River, but Jeremiah wasn’t listening to a word the old guy said. He was too busy wondering what the hell had gotten into him.

For the past two months, he’d ridden his Harley down the mountain each weekday at noon to have lunch in the Blue Bird Café. And every day the waitress everyone called Katie had taken his order.

But today, when he held the door for her to enter the café, it was as if he’d seen her for the first time. Watching her move around behind the counter as she talked to the cook and prepared to serve someone’s food, he had to admit that she was a damn fine-looking woman.

But why hadn’t he noticed that before? How could he have missed how pretty her aquamarine eyes were or that her long, dark brown hair looked like strands of shiny chestnut-colored silk?

“Did you hear what I just said, boy?” Harv asked, sounding impatient. “Piney River is good for cat fishin’, but if I’m wantin’ to do some serious trout fishin’, I like streams like that one behind your cabin.”

“It’s not my cabin,” Jeremiah answered, turning his attention back to the older gentleman sitting across the worn Formica table from him. “I’m just renting it for a few months.”

Harv grinned. “You know, Ray Applegate’s been lookin’ to sell his grandma’s old place.”

Jeremiah figured he knew where the conversation was headed. “That’s what Ray told me when I rented it from him.”

“You decided how long you’re gonna stay here on Piney Knob?” Harv asked.

Harv had been asking that question for the past month. And just as he had each time Harv asked, Jeremiah shook his head and gave him the same answer. “Nope. I’m just taking it one day at a time and getting used to my new status as a civilian.”

“How long was it you said you were in the Marine Corps?” Harv asked.

“Nineteen years.”

Jeremiah still felt a keen sense of regret that his military career had come to a premature end. If he hadn’t ended up with a bum knee after being injured in that mission a few months ago, he’d still be barking orders to his men and wouldn’t be faced with having to decide what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

“Here you go, Harv,” Katie said, setting down a plate of country fried-steak and mashed potatoes covered in enough white gravy to clog every artery in Harv’s entire body. Turning her attention to Jeremiah, she smiled. “What can I get for you today…Jeremiah?”

Feeling as if he’d been punched right square in the gut, Jeremiah swallowed hard. She had one of the prettiest smiles he’d ever seen, and the sound of her soft voice saying his name caused a warm feeling to spread throughout his chest.

Clearing his suddenly dry throat, he finally managed to push words past his paralyzed lips. “I’ll have whatever the special is for the day.”

“One plate of chicken and dumplings, green beans and sliced tomatoes coming right up,” she said, jotting his order on the pad of paper in her hand. “And what would you like to drink with that?”

“Iced tea.” He didn’t bother telling her he wanted the sweetened tea. In Dixie Ridge they didn’t serve it any other way.

“Your order will be ready in just a few minutes.” She tucked the pad of paper in the front pocket of her apron. “And I’ll be right back with your tea.”

When she turned to walk over to the lunch counter, Jeremiah noticed the two men sitting at the next table were about to get up. But before he could warn Katie to watch out, the guy closest to her shoved his chair backward and right into her. She staggered and Jeremiah instinctively reached to keep her from falling. Before he knew quite how it happened, he found Katie sitting on his lap.

They stared at each other for endless seconds as several things about her began to register in his startled brain. Katie smelled like peaches and sunshine, and her perfectly shaped lips were parted as if begging for his kiss. But those weren’t the only things he noticed. Her body was soft in the way only a woman’s could be, and her lush curves pressing against him were causing certain parts of his anatomy to respond in a very male way.

“Sorry about that, Katie,” the man who had bumped into her apologized, breaking the spell. “I was braggin’ about my new baby girl and wasn’t payin’ attention to what I was doin’.”

“It’s all right, Jeff,” Katie said, sounding breathless. “How are Freddie and the baby doing?”

“Just fine.” Offering his hand to help her to her feet, the man laughed. “But Nick isn’t sure he’s going to like being a big brother.”

Jeremiah wasn’t sure why, but when Katie started to accept the man’s help, he tightened his arm around her waist, effectively holding her in place. If the startled look she gave him was any indication, she was as surprised by his action as he was.

Glaring at the man she’d called Jeff, Jeremiah watched the guy raise an eyebrow, then wisely move on toward the check-out counter. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Her cheeks colored a pretty pink. “The question is, are you all right?”

“Of course.” He frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I sat down pretty hard and…I’m not exactly a lightweight.” The blush on her pretty face deepened. Before he could respond, she wiggled out of his grasp, stood up and looked around as if trying to find an escape. “I need to…ring up Jeff’s lunch ticket.”

Jeremiah stared after her when she hurried toward the cash register sitting at one end of the counter. The gentle sway of her rounded hips as she walked across the café caused his body to tighten further, and he had to force himself to look away.

“Katie’s a right pretty girl, ain’t she?” Harv asked with a knowing smile.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Jeremiah lied, trying to sound indifferent. He failed miserably. He knew it and so did Harv.

Suddenly feeling the need to run like hell, Jeremiah stood up and reached for his wallet. “I’m not very hungry today, Harv. I think I’m going to skip lunch and try my luck in the stream behind the cabin. Maybe I’ll catch a couple of rainbow trout for supper.” Removing a couple of bills, he tossed the money on the table. “This is for the waitress’s trouble. When she comes back to bring my tea, tell her to cancel my order.”

“Her name’s Katie Andrews,” Harv said, his wrinkled face splitting into a wide grin. “And in case anybody cares to know, she’s single.”

Refusing to comment, Jeremiah took his sunglasses out of the pocket of his T-shirt and put them on. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Harv.”

He purposely avoided looking at Katie as he wove his way through the tables and walked to the door. Once he was outside, he settled himself on the leather seat of his motorcycle and finally released his pent-up breath.

What the hell had gotten into him? Why did he suddenly have the irresistible urge to watch every move Katie Andrews made?

She for damned sure wasn’t the kind of woman he normally preferred. He liked his women brazenly sexy, shamelessly uninhibited in the bedroom and as commitment-shy as he was. It kept things simple and uncomplicated that way.

But Katie wasn’t the kind of woman that a man loved, then left without a backward glance. Hell, everything about her shouted stability and permanence—the very things he’d spent his entire adult life trying to avoid. So why did he find her so damned fascinating?

He shook his head. He wasn’t sure, but what he needed right now was to put as much distance between himself and Katie Andrews as possible.

Starting his Harley, he backed it out of the parking space, then pulled onto the road that led up the side of Piney Knob Mountain. He needed the quiet solitude of his rented cabin, where life was simple and he wouldn’t be reminded of all the things that he didn’t want and knew damned well he’d never have.

Frowning, Katie tucked the twenty dollars Jeremiah had left on the table into the pocket of her apron. She’d have to see that he got the money back the next time he came in for lunch.

Walking to the window behind the counter, she picked up the piece of paper with his order on it and tore it in half. “Helen, don’t bother making up that plate of chicken and dumplings for Jeremiah. He’s changed his mind and won’t be eating with us today.”

“He won’t?” Helen looked dumbfounded. “That’s the first time Silent Sam has missed eatin’ lunch here since he rolled into town.”

“His name is Jeremiah,” Katie said as she turned her attention back to her duties.

The woman gave her a grin that set Katie’s teeth on edge. “That’s what you keep tellin’ me.”

Doing her best to ignore her friend’s teasing, Katie started another pot of coffee and tidied up behind the counter. Until today, she hadn’t paid much attention to the man who’d cruised into town a little over two months ago on his shiny motorcycle. But in the past half hour her thoughts seemed to have been consumed with him.

From the day he’d first strolled into the café, she’d noticed how ruggedly handsome he was, and how his voice was sexy enough to turn a chunk of granite into a puddle of gravy. A woman would have to be comatose not to notice those things about him.

But she hadn’t realized how physically well-built he was, or how his biceps strained the knit fabric of the T-shirts he always wore. When he’d caught her to keep her from falling, she’d been struck speechless at the feel of his rock-hard muscles holding her so securely to his solid frame.

Her cheeks heated at how she’d just sat there on his lap staring at him like a complete ninny. But she’d been thoroughly mesmerized by what she’d seen in his dark brown gaze. Jeremiah Gunn was intelligent, compassionate and, if paying for a meal he’d ordered but didn’t eat was any indication, extremely honest.

“All the things I’d like to pass on to my child,” she murmured thoughtfully.

Katie caught her breath and quickly looked around to see if anyone had heard her, or noticed the heat she felt coloring her cheeks. Why on earth had the thought even entered her mind? Was she so desperate to have a baby that she’d started looking at complete strangers as father material?

She shook her head. There would be plenty of time after she closed the café to consider her options. Not that Jeremiah Gunn was, or ever would be one of them.

But two hours later, as she stepped out of the Blue Bird and locked the door behind her, she couldn’t seem to get the big man off her mind. He had everything she could want for her child—intelligence, a well-proportioned body and good looks.

“Forget it,” she muttered to herself as she pulled the colorful pamphlet Dr. Braden had given her out of her shoulder bag. Surely she could find someone at the Lancaster Sperm Bank down in Chattanooga with the same attributes.

As she continued to gaze at the little booklet, she frowned. She wasn’t sure that choosing her baby’s father from a list of donors in a database was something she wanted to do. She suspected it would feel a lot like she was making a purchase from a mail-order catalog when it came time to select the donor based on a list of their physical characteristics and personality traits.

Lost in thought, she stuffed the booklet back into her bag and started walking down the side of the tree-lined road toward the house she’d lived in all of her life. She barely noticed how the early June sunshine filtered through the leaves, or how the flame azaleas, rhododendrons and mountain laurel added splashes of orange, hot pink and white to the lush green foliage on the side of Piney Knob Mountain. Nor did she pay attention to an occasional car honking a greeting as it drove by. And she wasn’t the least bit worried about being run down.

Most of the time, a person could walk down the center of the road from one end of town to the other and never encounter a vehicle from either direction. And as far as she was concerned, it was testament to the fact that Dixie Ridge, Tennessee, was far too small to consider asking any of its male residents to help her with her problem.

Katie sighed. Most of the men she knew were married anyway, and the few who were still single already had fiancées or girlfriends. She couldn’t ask any of them to help her have a baby. Somehow, she had a feeling the women in their lives would have a real problem with that.

A feeling of resignation began to fill her. At this point, it looked like the sperm bank was her only choice. It wasn’t like eligible prospects were growing on trees around Dixie Ridge. Other than Jeremiah, Homer Parsons was about the only other bachelor in town. And he was ninety years old and had been claimed by Miss Millie Rogers over sixty years ago.

And even though Jeremiah Gunn had every trait she wanted for her child, she would never in a million years be able to work up the courage to ask him to help her. What would she say?

“Mr. Gunn, here’s your lunch. And by the way, would you mind stopping by the Dixie Ridge Clinic this afternoon, look at a magazine or watch a video, and make a donation in a plastic cup in order for me to have a baby?”

As she unlocked the back door and let herself into the house, her cheeks felt as if they were on fire. He’d think she was completely insane.

Two

“Harv, what do you say we call it a day?” Jeremiah called as he wound in his line. “It looks like they’ve stopped biting and by the time I fillet these trout, it’ll be time to fry them for supper.”

As soon as he’d returned from the diner, Jeremiah had pulled on his waders, grabbed his fly rod and trudged out into the middle of the stream behind his rented cabin. He’d wanted to catch a few trout, and hopefully figure out why he suddenly couldn’t put the Blue Bird Café’s waitress out of his mind. Unfortunately, his introspection had been cut short when Harv—after finishing his lunch—had driven up Piney Knob to Jeremiah’s cabin, waded out into the stream and started chattering like a damn magpie. The older man had covered everything in his ramblings from the differences between fishing lures and flies, to asking Jeremiah’s opinion on whether or not Harv should take on a partner in his fishing and hunting business, Piney Knob Outfitters.

Jeremiah had ended up tuning out most of it, but apparently the fish hadn’t. Since Harv showed up and started in with his motormouth, Jeremiah hadn’t had so much as a nibble.

“What did you catch for your supper? Rainbow or brown trout?” Harv asked, turning to slowly wade back to the stream’s rocky bank.