Just Eight Months Old.... Tori Carrington

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Just Eight Months Old... - Tori  Carrington


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came Hannah.

      The instant he met her, the shadows that dogged him began to recede. With all that curly red hair, those lively freckles and infectious laugh, she had loved life and lived to love. He’d been drawn to her like an addict was drawn to drugs. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t deserved her. He’d known that, too. But he’d been helpless to stop himself.

      She had my baby and I didn’t even know it.

      “I wish there was something I could do to help you.”

      Chad blinked away the images crowding his head and stared at Robert Morgan who held out two blue file folders in his direction. He took them and cleared his throat. “I understand. This is fine.”

      Morgan smiled and pushed up dark-rimmed glasses. “I have to admit, I still don’t know what all this is about. Your associates told me it didn’t concern PlayCo so I shouldn’t worry, but I can’t help it.”

      “They were right. You shouldn’t worry, Mr. Morgan.” He tucked the files under his arm and shook the other man’s hand. “Thank you for your help, sir.”

      “My, but you’re the independent one lately, aren’t you? Want to test your boundaries, is that it?” Hannah gave in to Bonny’s earnest attempts to escape her hold. She put her down in the driver’s seat, disappointment niggling at her that Bonny didn’t want to be held in the way Hannah needed to hold her after what had just happened—and didn’t happen—between her and Chad. She glanced around the interior of the underground parking garage. Chad had gotten them this far with a flash of his fake ID and a capable disposition, but her apprehension wouldn’t ease until they were out of the artificially bright parking area and well away from PlayCo Industries. And until he made it clear how he felt about having a daughter.

      Bonny curled her stubby fingers around the door handle. Hannah realized her little girl wanted to follow Chad.

      She reached into her purse and took out a bag of cheese crackers. Gaining her daughter’s attention, she tried to feed her a cracker only to have Bonny balk and take the fish-shaped snack away so she could feed herself.

      Hannah laid her cheek against the leather headrest. It wasn’t too long ago when she had wanted to follow Chad, too. Everywhere. Anywhere. She smoothed back Bonny’s tufts of red hair, reveling in the feel of the baby-soft strands against her skin.

      “This whole situation is surreal somehow,” she said quietly. “It’s so outside the norm, isn’t it, Munchkin?” Bonny just smiled and took another cracker. “Right about now Mommy would be feeding you dinner, wouldn’t she? In our cozy little yellow kitchen with the sunflowers on the wallpaper.” Right now their apartment in Little Italy couldn’t have seemed farther away. Hannah vaguely noticed the mess her daughter was making and reached for a wet towel also stashed in her purse.

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