Daddy's Little Memento. Teresa Carpenter
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minute seem like ten.
“Look at the boat, Gabe.” Hoping to distract the baby, she pointed to the large framed photograph of a sailboat on the wall. “See the boat.”
Gabe stilled. He looked from her face to the picture. “Bo.”
“Yes. Boat.” Thrilled at his new word, she kissed him. “Good boy. Soon we’ll go to the beach like I promised, and I’ll show you the real boats on the water.”
“I have a boat.” The low words came from Alex’s corner.
Samantha sent him a surprised look. Was he just making conversation to distract himself, or was he issuing an invitation?
Seeing the blank look he aimed at the test kit, she had her answer. Neither she nor Gabe would be zipping across the waves anytime soon. Which in no way detracted from Gabe’s triumph.
“Boat is a new word for him,” she boasted.
“Bo? That was boat?”
She grinned. “Sometimes you have to use a little imagination.”
“Ah.”
The door opened and the doctor walked in. Tall, with white-blond hair cut short and wide shoulders, he reminded Samantha of Mr. Clean in a lab coat. Alex introduced his friend as Dr. Douglas Wilcox. The doctor apologized for keeping them waiting, and Alex thanked him for helping them out on such short notice.
Pleasantries aside, Dr. Wilcox went right to work. Samantha held Gabe, who cried and refused to open his mouth for the swab. Luckily the doctor knew his business and was quick. He praised Gabe and covered a freckle on his arm with a Superman Band-Aid.
While the baby inspected his badge of courage Dr. Wilcox labeled the samples. Then he gestured for Alex to take a seat.
“I guess I don’t have to ask if you’re nervous. My cadaver has more color than you.”
“Ha ha. I thought this was done with a blood test.” Alex sent his friend a killer look. Doug knew how he hated visits to the doctor. Alex figured the hang-up came from having to drag his brothers to their appointments when he didn’t like going any better than they did. The possible outcome of the test results didn’t help settle his nerves, either.
“Didn’t I tell you? DNA tests are done with swabs these days. No needles today.” Doug winked at Samantha, a totally uncalled-for gesture in Alex’s opinion.
He frowned. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Doug demanded Alex say ah. Conscious of her eyes on him, he complied. Doug swabbed the inside of Alex’s cheek twice. Doug then labeled two plastic vials and placed one of the swabs in each of the envelopes already holding Gabe’s samples.
Two envelopes, one Doug would send to a lab, the other for Samantha to have tested through her own sources. There would be no doubt of the results.
Finally. The ordeal was almost over.
He thanked the Lord, only to have Samantha drop twenty pounds of baby in his lap.
“Watch Gabe for a minute, will you? I have to use the rest room.” Samantha zipped out the door.
“Wait,” Alex protested uselessly. He held Gabe by the waist with his feet dangling below him. “She couldn’t hold it for a minute?”
Doug grinned from where he stood completing his instructions for the lab. “If you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go.”
Alex glared at his friend. “You’re just a laugh a minute today.”
“I call ’em as I see ’em.” Doug pulled up a stool and sat down across from Alex. “Cute kid. Looks a lot like you. He has your eyes and your chin.”
Alex turned Gabe this way and that, studying him. The baby liked this new game, kicking his feet and laughing. He reached out and grabbed Alex by the hair, shrieking with glee. “Man.”
“I don’t see the resemblance.” Alex carefully worked his hair free. Gabe giggled and kicked harder. “So he has blue eyes. All babies have blue eyes.”
“Not by this age.” The doctor denied Alex’s statement.
“Well it’s common, as is brown hair, lots of men have that coloring,” Alex said, suppressing a smile at Gabe’s antics.
“He has his mother’s nose.”
Alex arched a brow. “Samantha’s his aunt, not his mother.”
“I know, you told me,” Doug said. “He still has her nose, which means he got it from his mother. Genetics work that way.”
“You’re not helping.” Alex advised his grinning friend. He had to admit, though, that Gabe’s button nose reminded him of Samantha’s.
“Samantha’s a beautiful woman,” Doug commented with a little more interest in his tone than Alex cared for.
He sent the other man a warning glare. “Forget it.”
All innocence, Doug crossed his arms over his chest. “Why, because you saw her first?”
“Yes.” Not that Alex intended doing anything about his attraction, but the situation was way too complicated to add anyone else to the equation.
He lowered Gabe until the little boy’s feet rested on Alex’s thighs. Now instead of kicking, the baby bounced. “He’s a strong little guy.”
“He appears happy. And healthy,” the doctor observed, reaching out to pat the kid on the head.
Gabe turned to see who was patting his head and seeing Doug, his face scrunched up and he shied back against Alex.
“No,” Gabe said loud and clear. “Bad man.”
Alex laughed along with Doug.
“He doesn’t like you.” Alex ran a soothing hand over Gabe’s back. “I don’t blame you, kid. He’s the man who pokes and prods, huh?”
Alex could definitely relate. But when Gabe laid his head on Alex’s shoulder, he felt a sinking feeling in his gut. Better his gut than his heart. He didn’t want to have anything in common with the baby. Not blue eyes, brown hair or a fear of doctors.
The point of this visit, these tests, was to disprove Alex’s paternity. Then he’d have no more to do with Gabe. Or his pretty aunt Samantha.
Life would return to the peace and orderliness Alex craved, and he’d put this disturbing event behind him.
And hope for no more surprises.
Peace. That’s what he wanted. Wasn’t it?
Chapter Two
Samantha’s rubber soles made soft swishing sounds against the tile floor of the deserted high-school corridor. Alex had sent a note asking to see her after school let out.
Not, she suspected, as principal to school nurse but as Gabe’s father to Gabe’s aunt.
Butterflies beat a wild tattoo in her stomach, a sign of her heightened anxiety. In the two weeks since she told Alex about Gabe, they hadn’t been on the friendliest of terms. Waiting for the test results made them both tense.
Perhaps she should have told him about Gabe sooner.
In her defense, parenting didn’t come easily. Whoever said it did, lied. It certainly hadn’t the first time when she’d gained custody of Sarah. So far, this time was no different. Except she was older, thirty-one instead of nineteen.
And this time she hoped not to do it alone.
Pressing a hand against her stomach to tamp down the havoc caused by anticipation and nervousness, she tapped on Alex’s door.
“Come in,” he called in his deep velvet voice, the voice that