Wanted: Father for Her Baby: Keeping Baby Secret / Five Brothers and a Baby / Expecting Brand's Baby. BEVERLY BARTON
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She picked up her purse.
“I’ll call you.”
“Please do. I hate to run, but—”
“Work awaits,” he said.
“Yes.”
She didn’t bother to contradict him, to tell him she was going home where she’d spend the afternoon and early evening with Andrew. Nodding, she forced a smile, then hurried away from the table, out of the restaurant and to her car. Once inside, she checked her watch. Two-fifteen. She’d go on home and be there in time to help put away groceries. About now Debra and Andrew were at Foodland on their weekly shopping excursion. Usually Leenie joined them for lunch on Fridays and afterward they bought groceries together, but today she’d had a date. A waste of time. Time she could have spent with her son.
Wonder if it’s too late to join them at Foodland? She could buy one of those frozen cheesecakes and indulge at supper tonight. That’s what she’d do. Eat cheesecake and forget about Jim Isbell. Out there somewhere was another guy who wouldn’t bore her to tears. Someone as much fun as Frank. As sexy as Frank. As good in bed as Frank.
All right already. Enough about Frank!
Frank is the past. Jim Isbell was a dud. Think about Andrew. And cheesecake.
Frank Latimer stretched out as best he could in his seat, thankful that he was in first class and not stuck back in coach. Most of the time when he flew, it was on the luxurious Dundee jet, but when his latest job had ended today, the jet was already en route to Key West, taking a crew of Dundee’s best for a top secret assignment. He was set for a week off and planned to do some fishing while he relaxed at Sawyer McNamara’s Hilton Head vacation house. He’d been working practically nonstop for nearly a year now. When he’d left Maysville, Mississippi, eleven months ago, he’d taken a European assignment just to get him out of the country and as far away as was possible from a certain long and lean blonde. If there had been a flight to Mars eleven months ago, he’d have taken it.
“Would you care for another glass of tea, Mr. Latimer?” the attractive brunette flight attendant asked. He’d noticed her immediately, the minute he’d boarded his flight from Chicago to Atlanta. Ms. Gant was petite and slender, with big eyes and big boobs and a come-hither smile.
“No, thank you.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Oh, yeah, there was something she could do for him all right. He was in bad need of a warm body in his bed. For months after his whirlwind affair with Leenie Patton, he hadn’t touched another woman. Then he’d convinced himself that what he needed to get Leenie out of his system was a woman—actually a lot of women. He’d tried that, but it hadn’t worked. No one had tasted like Leenie or felt like Leenie or sounded like Leenie. So after gorging himself on nameless, faceless bed partners, he’d sworn off women altogether, at least until he could stop wanting one particular lady—a sexy, wild woman he’d called Slim.
“Mr. Latimer?”
“Huh?”
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah, sure. I’m fine.”
No, he wasn’t fine. He was tired. This last job had lasted six weeks and he’d been shot at twice and wound up in three fistfights. He badly needed some major down-time. And Sawyer’s luxurious home in Hilton Head was just the ticket. If he could find a gorgeous, sexy blonde to spend the week with him, he’d have it made. It was time to end his months of celibacy.
The trouble is you don’t want just any gorgeous, sexy blonde. You want Slim. She’s what you want. All you want.
So why not call her up when he landed in Atlanta? And say what? I’ve been thinking about you for eleven months? Every time I slept with somebody else, I wished she was you?
“Hell, no!”
Frank didn’t realize he’d cursed aloud until Ms. Gant said, “Yes, Mr. Latimer, did you say something?”
“Just talking to myself,” he told her. “That happens when you get old.”
She giggled like a teenager and flashed him a brilliant smile. “You’re hardly old.”
“I’m forty,” he admitted, feeling every year of it.
“That’s not old. That’s the prime of life for a man.”
He chuckled. “I thought prime time for a guy was eighteen.”
She moistened her lips. “A man of forty has experience that a younger man doesn’t. I prefer experience.”
She’s putting it out there for you, Latimer, he told himself. All you have to do is take what she’s offering. He was tempted. Damn tempted. Even if she wasn’t a long-legged, willowy blonde.
Leaning down close to his ear, she whispered, “I’ll be in Atlanta overnight.”
“How about dinner?” He’d definitely been celibate long enough. Months of doing without wasn’t his style. It was time he tried sex again. And past time to get Leenie Patton out of his system.
Two blocks from Foodland, Leenie heard the wail of sirens—police and ambulance—and couldn’t help wondering if there had been a bad wreck somewhere nearby. The first thought that flashed through her mind was that Andrew and Debra had been involved in the accident. But she quickly dismissed the idea as nothing more than her tendency to worry much too much about Andrew whenever he was out of her sight. Of course she understood that her worries, concerns and fears were perfectly natural, that almost every new mother experienced these emotions whether she was a working mom or a stay at home mom. Naturally, being a single parent only added to her concerns about motherhood. With each passing day of Andrew’s life, Leenie felt more and more guilty for not having contacted Frank to tell him about their child. She had given herself every reason not to call him, to keep Andrew’s existence a secret from him, but in the end she knew, in her heart of hearts, that Frank had a right to know.
Admit it, she told herself, you’re scared to tell Frank the truth. If she told him and he didn’t want to be a part of Andrew’s life, she’d wonder what kind of man he really was. On the other hand, if he wanted to be a part of his son’s life, but didn’t want her in the bargain, then she’d have to not only share Andrew, but she’d have to accept the fact that she’d never been special to Frank.
As she cruised down the tree-lined street at thirty-five miles an hour, she forced her mind off Frank Latimer and onto cheesecake. Wonder if Foodland has any chocolate cheesecake? she mused.
Suddenly the Lexus in front of her eased to a halt behind a line of other vehicles. Noting that the car’s brake lights had come on, Leenie stopped her SUV and tried to see what lay ahead. Able to make out the whirl of blue flashing lights in the distance, she figured traffic had been stopped at the scene of the accident about a block ahead of her. If the wreck had just occurred, it could take quite a while to clear things up and get traffic moving again. Her lane was stalled and the other lane was empty, as if traffic had been stopped on the other side of the police car up ahead. She sighed. I should have gone home instead of heading to Foodland to meet up with Debra and Andrew, she thought. If she got stuck here for very long, she’d call Debra on her cell phone to let her know why she was delayed.
Tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, she hummed. And waited. Suddenly an ambulance flew by, its siren mournfully eerie. Once again, an odd sensation hit Leenie in the pit of her stomach. Don’t do this to yourself, she cautioned. Stop thinking Debra’s Saturn was involved in the wreck. Debra and Andrew were either still at Foodland or they were stalled on the other side of the accident and were waiting in line, just as she was.
As the minutes ticked by, Leenie tried to think of other things. Her boring lunch date with Jim. The topics she planned to discuss tonight on her midnight radio show before she took phone calls. Andrew’s latest doctor’s checkup when she’d been told he was absolutely perfect, something she’d