Their Baby Bond. Karen Rose Smith
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them.”
“The last two contractors I phoned never called me back,” she explained. “One didn’t get back to me for two weeks and then told me his schedule was full until after Christmas. So I guess I expected the same from you.”
Casually, Jake slipped a tanned hand into the pocket of his jeans. “I just got my business off the ground officially about six months ago. I’ve been consistently busy, one project turning into the next. I’m finishing up a house near Espanola. I can fit you in, probably start next week—Tuesday, since Monday’s Labor Day.”
“That would be terrific! In a few weeks I won’t want to deal with noise and dust—” She stopped. Jake certainly didn’t want to hear about her life. He’d come to give her an estimate.
It had been his kindness she’d remembered most about him, his ease with anyone he talked to. Now it wrapped itself around her as he asked, “Is something special happening in a few weeks?”
She only hesitated a heartbeat. “I’m going to become a mother.”
At that, his gaze appraised her flowing turquoise-and-rust pants outfit. It molded to her when she moved and clung flatteringly to her figure when she didn’t. She became hot under Jake’s perusal and was quick to say, “Oh, I’m not having the baby. I mean, not naturally. I’m adopting.”
“An infant?”
“Yes. It’s a private adoption. A young unwed mother.”
Obviously sensing her excitement, he smiled. “And you can’t wait?”
“No, I can’t wait. I want everything to be in order…everything to be perfect. I’ve waited for this for so long—” Her voice broke, and she was embarrassed by the depth of feeling in it. Her divorce from Dave and the reasons for it had almost destroyed her. But she’d made a new start.
“You never married?” Jake asked, as if it was an everyday question.
They weren’t strangers, after all. She’d worked with Nina at a pottery outlet her last two years in high school, and that’s how she’d known Jake. Well, not really known him. He’d been four years older and out of her universe.
Except for that one night—a night in Camelot. “I was married for a while. But it didn’t work out. I took back my maiden name after my divorce.”
“Raising a child on your own won’t be easy.”
She was tired of hearing that—from her mother, from the media, from her inner doubts. “Raising a child on my own will be a lot easier than doing it with a man I can’t expect to stay, can’t expect to trust, can’t expect to be an equal partner.”
Jake’s brows arched. “Sorry if I hit a nerve. But I’ve seen my sister struggle with her two boys since her husband died.”
His remark spiked through the tension. “I’m so sorry! Nina and I lost touch years ago. I didn’t even know she was married. And now she’s a widow. Did you say she has boys?”
He grinned. “Twins. Whirlwinds who don’t let me rest a minute when I’m with them. Once in a while I take them for the day. Working from dawn to dusk for a week is easier and requires less energy.”
Although his tone was wry, she could tell he was fond of his nephews. Curiosity urged her to ask, “You don’t have children of your own?”
His mouth straightened into a serious line. “No. I’ve never been married and I never expect to be.”
It was an uncompromising statement with feeling behind it that Tori understood. After Dave left, reinforcing childhood doubts and fears that had come into play when she’d decided to get married, she’d known that she’d never trust a man again. Whatever had fueled Jake’s remark came from a place deep inside him, a place that had been long established.
The silence between them crackled with awareness. Or was it only her old crush on Jake Galeno deluding her into thinking the attraction she’d always felt for him might now be more than one-sided?
She had no intention of finding out.
A car horn beeped at the curb next door, giving her an excuse to break eye contact as she glanced out the window. “I’d better show you the problems out back first. We can go through the kitchen.”
Leading the way, she didn’t risk another look into those sable eyes that still had the power to fascinate her.
The sky was almost violet, the clouds gray puffs tinged with pink, as Jake stood on Victoria Phillips’s patio, focusing on the weather-and-wear damage to the house’s exterior northern wall—trying to focus on it, rather than her. When he’d heard her message last night, he’d been transported into the past as if he’d stepped into a time machine. She’d always been a beauty with her honey-gold sleek hair, her blue-green eyes, curves that for a few moments had fit so well against his hard body. He’d met her when she’d just turned seventeen and he’d been twenty-one. When he’d taken her to the prom a year later because her date had landed in the hospital with appendicitis, he’d put a leash on his desire. He felt duty bound to protect her innocence.
She was still off-limits. His life was too undecided. He wasn’t sure he’d be staying in Santa Fe. He could end his unpaid leave of absence from the Albuquerque police force with one phone call. But he had no intention of returning to negotiations team work. And he had no intention of involving himself with a woman like Tori. Up until a year ago, he’d been an expert at reading people. If the skills he’d honed since he was a kid counted for anything, he was sure Tori Phillips would put the child she wanted to adopt before a torrid affair.
The breeze carried the scent of Tori’s perfume, a deep flowery scent, as he ran his hand over the patches on the wall that needed attention. Straightening, he caught her watching him, and the sharp stirring of desire made him take a deep breath.
Damn! He should turn this job down. But his fledgling business needed the income. He didn’t want to deplete the savings he’d worked so hard to accumulate. “You mentioned ceramic-tile work, a medicine cabinet you’d like to have installed and shelves in a bedroom closet?”
Under the glow of the day-end sun, her cheeks pinkened a bit. “I’ll show you.” Quickly, she moved back into the house toward the bathroom.
He could see that the ceramic tile-work surrounding the tub and sink would be extensive. “Are you sure you don’t want to use a laminate?” he asked, after he explained everything he’d need to do and the mess it would make.
“I like the permanence of tile—when it’s done right,” she added with a small laugh.
“Age has something to do with it,” he concluded as he ran his finger over the crumbling grouting. He eyed the medicine cabinet she’d purchased and the lighting fixture that would hang above it. She wanted quality, and that didn’t surprise him about Tori, either. He’d looked up her art gallery—Perceptions—in the phone book last night after she’d left her message. It was located on Old Santa Fe Trail. She must be doing well if she could afford this little gem of a house. Real estate in Santa Fe was over the top.
“The closet is in here.” After she led him to the second bedroom, she opened a closet door. Like the rest of the house—except for the kitchen and bathroom—the room had a hardwood floor, but it was expectantly empty. “I’d like shelves in the upper portion of this closet and a bar for hangers below.”
She pointed to patches of plaster near the floorboards that had crumbled. “Can you fix that, too?”
“Thanks to apprenticing with my uncle since I was about ten, I can do a little bit of everything. I have my general building license and one in ceramic tile, marble and teffazzo.”
She looked impressed. “You worked with your uncle before you entered the police academy.”
“You have a good memory.”
“I think I remember everything you told me on prom