about leaving you alone with the baby. Single parenting is hard for anybody.”
“Especially a clueless male like me?”
“I didn’t say that. Peaches is getting very comfortable with you and vice versa.” She shook her head, wondering why she was obsessing about this. Peaches wasn’t her problem. Still, it knotted her stomach to think about leaving man and baby to fend for themselves. “The trip from here to home is an hour and a half, give or take. Normally, I would simply drive up Tuesday morning. But first of all, we don’t know how much snow and ice will melt tomorrow, and second of all, any standing water will probably refreeze tomorrow night.”
“I’d say you’re right.”
“So I’ll have to go tomorrow afternoon.”
“Whatever you need to do.”
“Do you even care that I’m leaving?” she cried.
He stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over his chair. Her statement echoed in the small dining room.
“This was never supposed to happen.” He waved a hand. “I get it. You want to be with your family. I won’t stand in your way. You have no obligation whatsoever to me or even to Peaches.”
He was saying all the right words, but he was breaking her heart. He was so very much alone. Dani took a deep breath and gambled. “Come with me to visit my parents,” she begged. “You and Peaches. I can’t bear the thought of leaving you here alone.”
Nathaniel blinked, feeling his anger and frustration winnow away to be replaced by something even more unsettling. He knew what it was like to have someone feel sorry for him, but it had been a very long time since he had been on the receiving end of that reaction. He didn’t much care for it. There were any number of things he wanted from Dani. Pity wasn’t one of them.
“I have to be at work on Tuesday,” he said calmly, careful to reveal nothing of the confusion tearing him apart. “New Century Tech will be open for business. I have employees.”
“What about the baby?”
Dani’s dogged insistence on planning was commendable, but since he didn’t have any of the answers she wanted, his only recourse was stonewalling. “I’ll work something out. Besides, the baby will only be with me a day or two longer. I’m confident the investigator will find Ophelia quickly.”
“I’m all in favor of positive thinking,” Dani said wryly, “but that’s not much of a strategy. Seriously, Nathaniel, come to Gainesville with me. It won’t be odd if you show up. Mom and Dad often have stray guests at the dinner table, even at the holidays. We wouldn’t sleep overnight at the house, of course. There are several nice hotels nearby.”
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” he said, “but I’ll be fine.”
The combative subject was dropped by unspoken consent when Peaches decided she was hungry. Dani fed the baby while Nathaniel cleaned up the kitchen. Already, they had blown through most of the groceries he’d brought home on Saturday. Even the baby supplies were getting low.
When the kitchen was clean and the baby asleep on his bedroom floor, he realized he had to get out of the condo or risk making love to Dani. If they had sex again, she would make assumptions about the two of them. He wasn’t ready for that.
The wonderful meal he had consumed sat like lead in his stomach. “I’m going to the store for round two,” he said suddenly. “Make a list. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Oh, but—”
He exited the warm, cozy kitchen before Dani could say anything else. When he had donned his parka and ski pants and gloves, he went back for the list. “Is it ready?” he asked, not looking at her. The cherry-red sweater he’d given her for Christmas clung to all the right places. Looking at her breasts was a bad idea.
“You can’t go to the store, Nathaniel.”
“Of course, I can.”
“It’s Christmas Day. I’m sure there might be some places open here and there, but probably not in walking distance. Quit worrying. I can stretch the food we have left until Monday afternoon. We can always do something simple tomorrow like bacon and eggs and pancakes.”
He stripped off his outerwear a piece at a time, feeling ridiculous. “I keep forgetting it’s Christmas,” he muttered.
Dani shook her head in amusement. “First I’ve inundated you with too much Christmas, and now you say you forgot about it entirely. Make up your mind.”
He shot her a glance, feeling his resolve wane. “I needed to get out of the house,” he said bluntly. “Away from you. It wasn’t really about the groceries.”
“Oh.” She looked stricken.
“I want you, Dani. Under the circumstances, it doesn’t seem fair to you.”
“Because?”
“Because you can’t say no without causing tension between us.” When she didn’t say a word, he lifted his shoulders and rotated his neck. “Never mind. I’m going for a walk. Call me if there’s an emergency.”
Desperate to get away, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room. He made it to the front door before Dani intervened. The relief he experienced when he heard her voice call to him was overwhelming and inexplicable.
“Don’t go out in the cold, Nathaniel. Stay with me.”
He turned around slowly. She smiled faintly, but her eyes held secrets. Clearing his throat, he tossed his gloves on the console by the door and ran his hands through his hair. “If I stay, I’ll make love to you. Sooner or later. You know that’s true.”
She swallowed visibly. “Yes.”
“Things between us are complicated. You have to be sure.”
Waiting for her answer was the longest five seconds of his life.
“I can’t think of a better way to spend Christmas,” she whispered.
The look on her face made him damned glad she had stopped him. “Now?” he asked hoarsely.
“Shouldn’t we wait until tonight?” she said, her wide-eyed expression betrayed the struggle between madness and common sense.
“Maybe. But I can’t.” Deliberately, he began undressing, not only his cold-weather gear, but his socks and shoes and belt and everything down to his shirt and pants. Dani watched him intently, her cheeks flushed.
The door to his bedroom was open down the hall. They would hear the baby if she woke. “Say something,” he demanded. “Tell me what you want.”
“I’m not sure what I want,” she said, wincing. He heard the truth in her words. “Maybe I just need you to know that I know.”
His hands stilled
