Chapter 3

      Taking a deep breath, Eric stepped inside and looked around. He didn’t know what he’d expected, maybe a carbon copy of his, but her space looked completely different. Minimal furnishings, for one. Clearly, she’d chosen only what she wanted from the furniture her great-aunt had left behind. And then she’d added some other pieces, bright colors mostly. Lots of patterns, stripes and swirls and polka dots. Feminine stuff, but surprisingly comfortable looking.

      Turning slowly, he wasn’t sure what to make of it all. Instead of looking garish or confusing, the effect was cheerful and homey. In a bohemian sort of way. In fact, it reminded him of photos he’d seen of some of the dorms at the college where he used to work.

      “In here,” Julia called. He followed the sound of her voice and found her standing in front of the stove.

      Her kitchen, too, appeared bright and clean. She’d made an attempt to modernize it, though the aging appliances and chipped counters showed its age. He set the travel crib near the table and against the wall, hopefully out of the way.

      “Welcome. So what’ll it be?” she asked, her friendly tone and relaxed posture inviting him to loosen his guard.

      “Oatmeal is fine,” he told her. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble. You have instant, right?”

      She eyed him, her expression thoughtful. “I do. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

      It wasn’t, but he nodded. “Oatmeal is great on a snowy morning.”

      “Coffee?” Handing him a cup, she pointed toward a half-full coffeepot. “Help yourself.”

      In California, he’d come to appreciate good coffee. He’d even purchased a specialty brewer, which was on its way here with his other personal belongings. But right now, he would have settled for instant. With no expectations other than it being hot, he filled his cup and took a sip.

      It was good. More than good. Right up there with the gourmet coffee served at the corner java shop he used to stop at every morning on his way to campus. A second sip and he made a small sound of pleasure, causing her to swing around and grin at him.

      He felt the power of that grin like a punch in his stomach. Slightly disoriented, he finally smiled back. He definitely hadn’t expected this. Expected her.

      “I take it you like my coffee?”

      “I do.” His third sip made him widen his smile into a grin. “It’s delicious. I can’t tell you how badly I needed this.”

      “I can imagine.” She gestured at the table, a round wooden one that she’d painted turquoise. Around it were four wooden chairs, all painted different colors. “Sit. I’ll have your breakfast ready in a minute.”

      Slightly less uncomfortable, he pulled out a chair. After bustling around for a second, she put a bowl in the microwave. When it chimed, she used pot holders to remove it, dropped in a handful of raisins and carried it over to him, along with a spoon and a paper napkin. “Here you go.”

      After one bite, he had to fight not to inhale the entire bowl. “This doesn’t taste like instant oatmeal,” he commented, before shoveling another spoonful into his mouth.

      “Oh yeah?” She took a seat across from him, cradling her own mug of coffee. “It is, but I mashed a banana in with it before I micro-zapped it. It’s one of my favorite breakfasts in the world. Then I added raisins and cinnamon. Do you like it?”

      Since he’d nearly finished his bowl, he nodded. Two more bites and he was done. “Thank you,” he said, meaning it. “I was really hungry.” So hungry that everything tasted better around her.

      “I could tell. I made two packets, since one is never enough.”

      He could have eaten two more, but he’d already imposed enough. Sipping his coffee, he nodded before glancing out her kitchen window at the snow still piled up outside. “Judging from your porch railings, I’d say we must have gotten at least ten inches.”

      “Yep. They said on the news it was more like a foot.”

      “I believe it.” One more swallow and he’d emptied his cup. He wondered if she’d mind if he had another. “Do you really think it will be tomorrow until the plows come through? I need to get to a grocery store at least.”

      She seemed remarkably unconcerned. “It’ll probably be today. That all depends where they decide to go first. But if you don’t make it to the store, I’ll make sure you don’t starve. Oh, and if you do get out, I’ll be happy to watch the baby while you shop. No need to have to deal with taking him out into weather like this.”

      Watch the baby? He glanced at Garth, still sleeping peacefully. After his initial frisson of alarm, he considered her. He really needed to stop being so suspicious. No way could every woman he met turn out to be as psychotic and unbalanced as Yolanda. He had to admit, if only to himself, maybe he’d gotten paranoid. But then, who would blame him?

      The truth was eventually he would have to find someone who could babysit Garth from time to time. More, once he started scouting for locations to open up his custom car shop. He’d definitely need to get day care during regular business hours so he could work. The thought tied his stomach in knots. He didn’t like being away from his son, not for more than a few minutes at a time. He didn’t know how people did it, returning to work out of necessity when their child was only a few months old. Like them, he’d have no choice but to do the same. Not yet, though. Not yet.

      One thing at a time, he reminded himself.

      “I might take you up on that,” he replied. Surely he could let her watch Garth for an hour while he stocked his fridge and pantry.

      “Just let me know when.”

      Again he glanced out her window at the pristine white snow. “As soon as the plows clear the streets.”

      “Do you have personal items arriving?” she asked. “Baby furniture, your television, that sort of thing?”

      “My moving truck is supposed to arrive in a few days,” he said, eyeing his empty mug longingly. “Assuming the roads are good enough for them to get through.”

      “Good.” She grabbed the coffeepot and brought it over. “More coffee? Don’t worry, I can always make more.”

      Relieved, he nodded. After she’d refilled his cup, he took another deep drink and sighed. Just as good the second time. “I promise I’ll repay you as soon as I can.”

      The snorting sound she made surprised him. Humor danced