don’t like me,” Blue whispered unsteadily.
“Oh, honey, what makes you say that?”
“He said so.”
Curt was behind schedule and he hated it. He prided himself on getting the mission accomplished—whether it was a mission in Iraq or registering his kid in preschool.
His kid. He still couldn’t get over the fact that he had a daughter.
It had been a hell of a week. On Monday he’d gotten the final report from the medics informing him that the limp the sniper’s bullet had left him with would most likely be permanent and would result in his being reassigned to a desk job. Frustration at his reassignment gnawed at him. He was a doer, not a damn paper-pusher.
And what had Fate done to help him out in his time of need? Delivered an almost-baby daughter he hadn’t even known he’d had on his doorstep. That had only been three days ago.
The child welfare worker had filled in the blanks. It seems that Gloria, the earthy cocktail waitress he’d had a short interlude with in San Diego nearly four years ago before he’d been transferred and shipped overseas, had had his baby.
Curt was no idiot. He’d known that Gloria had a thing for marines and that he hadn’t been the only man in her life. But it had only taken one look at the little girl to know she was his. The strawberry-colored birthmark just above her knee matched the one he had on his own leg.
The kid was his. He had a daughter.
Presto, he was a father.
Curt knew he was totally unqualified for the job. He hadn’t known his own father, who’d taken off before he was born. But Curt wouldn’t take off on Blue. He wouldn’t desert her. He lived up to his responsibilities. He was a marine, by God.
Not that his uniform had impressed Blue’s teacher. She’d looked at him as if he were pond scum. And ordered him around. Curt wasn’t used to taking orders from a civilian. And he hated feeling like a raw recruit who was incompetent.
So he was no pro at this parenting stuff. How hard could it be? He was a member of the United States Marine Corps with a legacy of duty, strength, sacrifice, discipline and determination. He had a feeling he’d need all those things and more to measure up in that disapproving teacher’s book.
The minute Jessica let herself into her Lincoln Square condo, she kicked off her shoes and grabbed her cell phone. She dumped her tote bag filled with school work on the floor before sitting on the denim couch. The blue corduroy jumper she wore was baggy enough that she had lots of room to curl her legs beneath her, a pose she resorted to whenever she was extremely nervous.
Normally she’d change into comfortable sweats as soon as she got home, but today she needed to talk to her best friend, Amy Weissman, before doing anything else. She’d known Amy since they’d shared a freshman English class in high school.
“You’ll never guess who walked into my classroom this morning,” Jessica said. “Curt Blackwell.”
“Curt ‘Bad Boy’ Blackwell?” Amy’s voice reflected her disbelief. “From high school?”
“The one and only.” And he’d been Jessica’s one and only in more ways than one. The only one who’d captured her heart with the total surrender of first love. The only one she’d given her virginity to. The only one who’d ever kicked her in the teeth afterward.
She didn’t have to vocalize any of those things to her best friend. Amy already knew. “Tell me he’s come crawling back to you after all these years, and you shoved his tonsils down his throat,” Amy growled, never one to be docile in her defense of her friends.
“Not exactly. He didn’t even recognize me. He came to register his daughter in my preschool class.”
“Oh, Jessica, I’m so sorry.”
Jessica closed her eyes and saw herself as a senior in high school, the nerdy brain and social misfit, the only girl in her class who didn’t have a date for the prom. And then there was Curt, the bad boy she’d had a crush on since her freshman year. When she’d run across a tipsy Curt behind the public library on prom night and he’d flashed his wicked smile at her, she’d finally given in to her feelings and they’d ended up making love in the back seat of his beat-up Mustang.
She could still remember the smell of fresh-cut grass drifting through the open window of his car, the scratchy feel of the cracked vinyl of the seat against her bare thigh, the sound of her name on his lips and the heat of his hand on her skin—the forbidden passion and the incredible outcome. Her only thoughts had been of him, her only wish to be with him.
But the next day Curt was gone. The United States Marine Corps had a prior claim on him.
Even though he’d left, Jessica had been sure that Curt would write to her from boot camp. He didn’t. She didn’t panic. Not until she skipped her period. Then she’d panicked.
Curt had come home for a few days after completing boot camp, but she’d only found out he was back thanks to a chance meeting on the street. When he didn’t even speak to her…when he instead turned away from her with an embarrassed look on his face, her heart and her foolish dreams of a future with him had crumbled.
Her period had started the next morning, the pregnancy scare over. She’d eventually gotten over the feeling of betrayal. But when he’d walked back into her life, the past had come rushing right at her. If she really had been pregnant all those years ago, she and Curt would have had a child together. A daughter maybe. Would she have looked like Blue?
“What are you going to do?” Amy softly asked, bringing her back to the present.
Jessica took a deep breath before replying. “I’m going to teach his daughter. I’m a professional. I won’t blame the child for the sins of the father. And that little girl really needs someone to help her. Curt is still in the marines, and he treats her like she’s a recruit instead of his daughter. And she’s such a sweet little girl.”
“What happened to her mom?” Amy asked.
“She’s passed away, that’s all I know. I can’t turn my back on Blue,” Jessica said firmly. “First and foremost she’s a person in her own right. And she deserves to have someone care about her, especially after what she’s been through. Curt only got to me today because I didn’t see him coming. There’s no way in the world that I’d ever let Curt Blackwell close enough to hurt me again.”
“Do you need any help getting ready for bed?” Curt asked Blue. He’d already learned from experience that she was much better at undressing than dressing.
She shook her head.
“Okay, then I’ll be in your room for lights off in five minutes.”
He sighed as she scurried from the room. He’d tried talking softly to her, but it didn’t seem to make any difference. He hated the possibility that she might be afraid of him, but had no idea how to rectify things.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he stared at the pile of paperwork that still needed completing by the morning. The government liked everything done in triplicate and that included forms. The five minutes he’d given Blue went by in the blink of an eye. When he walked into her room, she was
