so.
She stood on Mike’s brick porch and rang the bell. While she waited for him to answer, she straightened her floral maternity top over the matching stretch pants.
A second before Mike opened the door, a shadow on the beveled glass told her he was there. Then the flesh-and-blood man filled the doorway. Kelly’s heart skipped a little at the sight of him. The feeling was happening with more frequency, but she chalked it up to hormones. Pregnancy wreaked havoc on a woman’s body. Why couldn’t she have a normal, physical reaction to a good-looking man? When her hormones settled down, so would the feeling.
“Kelly, what are you doing here? What’s wrong?”
“What makes you think there’s something wrong?”
One of Mike’s dark eyebrows lifted and there was a strange look on his face. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn he was expecting her.
“You just look funny,” he said.
That made sense. She felt funny, too. “I just wanted to talk to you. May I come in?”
“Sure.” He opened the door wider and stepped back to allow her inside.
Kelly loved his house. She knew he had hired a decorator, but his touch was there, too. The hardwood floor in the entryway where she stood, the oak-trimmed doorways around the kitchen straight ahead and the beige carpet in the living room to her left, he had insisted on those touches. There was a masculine air to the place mainly because of the lack of frills, flowers and froo-froo. It had a tangible solidness, like Mike. He was forthright and honest; he would never do anything shady or underhanded.
“Have you eaten dinner yet?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Do you have an extra frozen dinner?”
“Yup. Hungry man size. Think you can handle it?” One corner of his mouth lifted in a smile that was guaranteed to affect female hearts on the spot. Hers was no exception.
“I think so. After all, I’m eating for two.”
She followed him into the kitchen and sat on one of the tall stools at the bar that separated the work area from the breakfast nook behind her.
Mike opened the freezer and pulled out a couple of dinners. “Chicken and mashed potatoes all right?” When she nodded, he read the directions and popped it into the microwave. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“They rented my apartment to someone else.”
“Really?” he said, his back to her.
“Yeah. It’s not the only place in town, but two-bedroom units aren’t that easy to find in a security building that takes children and has an enclosed yard.”
He punched some buttons, and the oven began to hum. He turned around. “You look puzzled.”
“There’s a good reason for that. I don’t understand what happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I looked at the apartment, Miss Anderson acted as if the place was already mine, and the background check was merely a formality. Today her manner was definitely cooler. Did she call you?”
“As a matter of fact, she did,” he admitted.
“What did she say?”
“She asked how long you had been my tenant and I told her. She said she knew about the baby.”
Kelly nodded. “I wanted to be up-front about that It didn’t seem to be a problem.”
“You’re taking this too personally. They probably had more than one application. I’d bet the other was from dinks.”
She frowned. “That’s not a very nice thing to say.”
“D.I.N.K.—double income no kids.”
“Oh.” She thought about that for a moment. Someone like that would be a better risk than a Q.I.B.O.W. Questionable income, baby on way. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I’m sure I am. You want something to drink?”
She nodded. “I want a glass of wine.”
He frowned. “No alcohol for pregnant ladies.”
“I know that. I just said I wanted it. What have you got that I can have?”
Mike turned away and looked in the refrigerator. “I have milk, apple juice, soda or water.”
“Juice please,” she said.
Kelly wondered if this was what it would feel like to be married. Eating dinner together, relating the events of the day, not being alone. It was nice. Mike’s concern about her condition touched her, too, and a sense of wistfulness washed over her. To have someone to share things with—the baby’s movement, the results of her monthly doctor visits, heartburn, her fears about the birth, her fears about a roof over her head. But it was a fantasy.
At least for now. Someday she would find a man who would sweep her off her feet, and she would have all the love she’d dreamed about. That goal was merely delayed, not unobtainable.
Mike set a glass of apple juice in front of her. He leaned his forearms on the cream-colored tiles and met her gaze. “You know, Kel, you don’t have to move.”
“Yes, I do. It’s not fair that you be dragged into this situation.”
“Whether you like it or not, I’m in it because I’m your friend.”
She put her hand on his arm. The little jolt she got from the contact with his warm skin surprised her. The slight flicker she saw in Mike’s eyes made her wonder if he’d felt something, too. She glanced down at her fingers on his forearm. Why had she never noticed before how tan he was compared to her? How wide and strong his wrists were? Must be that hormone thing again. Maybe it made a woman’s powers of observation more acute. Whatever the side effects, it would be best to ignore the sensation. She took her hand away and curled her fingers around her glass.
“Mike, I don’t want to argue with you. I’ve made up my mind to move. Can’t we just drop it?”
He nodded. “We can if you’ll promise not to make a hasty decision. You’ve got a home as long as you want one. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Me?” she said, pressing her palm to her chest in mock amazement. “However can you say that? Just because I’m pregnant—”
“That sorry son of a bitch took advantage of you.” Mike stood up straight and his dark eyes smoldered with anger.
“It’s not all his fault.”
“If he was any kind of man, he would never have pressed you under the circumstances. Good God, you’d just buried your mother.”
“Don’t forget I called him,” she said.
“Why are you defending him?”
