and causing her regrets to multiply. She didn’t know Jared Whitewolf. And even if he was as reliable and charming as his brother indicated, she should be practical and go home to catch up on much-needed rest.
“Sorry,” Porter said. “I think I should meet him.”
“We will in a minute. Let’s finish this up.”
She met Porter’s quizzical gaze and then he shrugged. “All right. Look at the layout here.”
She moved around the table, scrutinizing papers that held graphs and charts and slogans. In minutes she was concentrating on her work again and had returned to the computer, rearranging the information and design. As she moved back to look at a brochure, she glanced through the glass partition.
Jared Whitewolf had tossed aside his hat. He stood with his back to her while he looked at framed pictures of advertising layouts the company had done. Her gaze ran over his thick black hair and his broad chest. The T-shirt molded the sinewy muscles in his shoulders and upper back. His jeans hugged slender hips. He was as foreign to her life as an intergalactic being. And Porter was right She should tell Jared Whitewolf that she would be working incredibly late and that she would be too exhausted to go anywhere except home. Alone.
She thought of men in her past that she had dated. Without exception, she had known them years before dating them. Buddies, school chums, childhood friends—even Earl Baines, a co-worker whom she had dated the longest. She didn’t know anything about cowboys, bull riders or men who spent their afternoons in the park with a baby and wore jeans and T-shirts. She glanced at Porter, who was seated at his desk. He had shed his suit coat, but he still wore his tie and white shirt with well-creased navy slacks. He was the kind of man she knew—professional, ambitious, punctual, whose life was filled with schedules and routines as much as her own.
She would tell Jared Whitewolf goodbye. It was absurd to think of doing anything else.
“Faith, can you look at this?” Porter asked without glancing up. “I think we should move this slogan and the picture of the machinery to the top of the page.”
She crossed to his desk and bent over the layout in front of him, forgetting Jared Whitewolf.
It was half an hour later, as she walked back to her computer with papers in hand, that she remembered her date. She glanced toward the reception room, knowing she should put the papers on her desk and send Jared home.
He sat on one of the chairs, and Merry was in his arms while he gave her a bottle. His head was bent over her, and Faith could see his lips moving and knew he was talking to her. Merry reached up a tiny hand, pale against his dark skin, as her fingers explored his jaw. Something seemed to unfold inside Faith and longing swamped her. She tried to picture Porter holding a baby, giving it a bottle, but it was impossible.
It was equally impossible to imagine either of her brothers—or even her father—tending a baby. With five children, her father had still managed to escape giving one of them a bottle unless he had been settled in front of the latenight news and her mother had placed a baby and a bottle in his arms. Nor could she imagine any of the men she had dated spending the day in the park with a baby like Jared had unless pressed into the duty.
Everyone in her life was as predictable as the sunrise. The men were busy with careers; the women busy with home and children. She was the oldest female and the only unmarried one in her family. Restlessness and a growing dissatisfaction tugged at her while Faith watched Jared Whitewolf. And she decided that this was one night she would spend a couple of hours breaking out of her routine. For once, she would let go of her orderly existence and see what life would be like with someone like Whitewolf.
His head rose and he met her gaze. They stared at each other, and even with a glass partition separating them, her pulse jumped and she felt weak-kneed and fluttery.
She waved the papers at him and he nodded, then she hurried to her alcove to try to finish. They had only the last touches now, and then she and Porter would be ready for the presentation tomorrow morning.
Ten minutes later she looked up to find Porter standing in front of her, gazing down at the brochures and folders and layouts. “We’re done!” she exclaimed. “Ten after nine. Not bad.”
“It looks great,” he said with satisfaction. “Damned good job. I think they’ll go for it.”
“Thanks,” she said, carefully placing the work in stacks.
“I’ll wind things up here and then we can go over everything again in the morning before we meet with them. Come on, introduce me to Whitewolf.”
She got her purse, shut down her computer and took a last look around.
“You’re through, Faith. Stop working.”
She smiled at him and they walked to the reception room. Jared came to his feet.
“Porter, this is Jared Whitewolf. Jared, this is my supervisor, Porter Gaston.”
“Glad to meet you,” Jared said politely, shaking hands with Porter.
“Faith said you’re taking her to dinner.”
“That’s right.”
“Before you go, I thought maybe you’d want to look around the office, see some of her work. Faith, why don’t you sit with his little baby while I show him our new promotion?”
Hearing the determination in Porter’s voice, Faith knew it was useless to protest. And she knew he wanted Jared alone to question him. Porter was a family friend who’d been looking after her for years.
“Now I can see what you’ve been working on,” Jared said easily, and followed Porter beyond the glass door.
Faith felt mildly annoyed at Porter’s meddling, but she knew her entire family would be even more curious about Jared Whitewolf than Porter was. She sat down and looked at the baby who was sleeping again, slumped over in the stroller. She looked uncomfortable, so Faith leaned down to unbuckle the strap and carefully lift the sleeping child into her arms. Merry sighed and snuggled against Faith and Faith’s arms tightened. She felt a hollow ache while the warmth of the tiny baby seemed to permeate to her heart.
Fifteen minutes later, the men returned and Jared took Merry from her arms. He picked up his hat and set it on his head, and then turned to extend his hand to Porter.
“It was nice to meet you. Thanks for the tour.”
“Sure thing. You two have a good evening. I’ll wind this up, Faith. If I see anything that isn’t ready, I’ll give you a call. You don’t mind if I call anytime tonight, do you?”
“No. I won’t be home for about an hour, but after that, it’s fine.”
“Good. I might have a question.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Gaston,” Jared said, and pushed open the door for Faith. He wheeled the stroller through the door and walked beside her toward the elevators.
“Sure that wasn’t your dad?”
Smiling, she shook her head. “He’s a close friend of my father and my uncle, Blake Kolanko. My uncle owns this business.”
“Ahh.”
“Don’t
