Daddy On The Doorstep. Judy Christenberry
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she’d hoped he would continue watching television a little longer, she stared at him, her eyes wide.
“You’re going to bed now?”
“Yeah. You want the bathroom first?” His tone was casual, as if such forced intimacy didn’t bother him.
Andrea wished she could show as much cool. But she couldn’t. With a nod, she rushed from the room.
A few minutes later she emerged from the bath to find Nick stretched out on Bess’s big bed, his hands folded behind his head. She fought to pull her gaze from his muscular length. “Sorry if I took too long.”
“Nope. It gave me time to warm the bed for you.”
She almost choked as she took in his words. “W-warm the bed for me?” Swallowing, she added, “I thought you’d want this bed. After all, Bess is your aunt. I’ll take the other bedroom.”
“I guess you haven’t looked in there yet,” he said nonchalantly as he sat up.
Foreboding ran through her. “No. Is there a problem?”
“Yeah. A leak in the roof.”
“Where?”
“Right over the middle of the bed. Lucky break, though. The mattress was ruined, but the carpet didn’t suffer. I dragged the mattress out to the garage and put a pot under the leak to catch the drip.”
Lucky break. Yeah, right. She gathered her scattered wits around her and turned toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To find some blankets and make up a bed on the sofa.”
“I don’t see the need for that, Andy. After all, we’re not divorced yet. We can share this bed.”
He stood and walked toward her, but she knew, come hell or high water, and the latter was a real possibility, she wasn’t sharing a bed with Nick.
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