of them were in a relationship at the present time, they did some mental math, and all three of their throats convulsed on a swallow. If Joey was indeed a Sullivan, he could conceivably have been any one of theirs.
The baby fell asleep before the bottle was empty. Too agitated to sit still, Noah handed him to Marsh, who was sitting the closest to him. When the child stirred, they all held their breath until his little eyelashes fluttered down again.
“I don’t see how I could be his father,” Marsh said so quietly he might have been thinking out loud. “I always take precautions.”
“Me, too,” Noah said, almost as quietly.
“Same here.”
The baby hummed in his sleep. His very presence made the case of the reliability of protection a moot point.
“We’re going to need a DNA test,” Reed declared.
“I have a better idea,” Noah said, already moving across the room toward the kitchen and escape.
“Not so fast!” Reed admonished, stopping Noah before he’d reached the arched doorway.
It rankled, but Noah figured he had it coming for all the times he’d hightailed it out of Orchard Hill in the past. “Can you guys handle the baby on your own for a little while?” he asked.
Two grown, capable, decent men cringed. It was Marsh who finally said, “We can if we have to. Where are you going?”
Noah looked Marsh in the eye first, and then Reed. “I heard Lacey’s in town.”
“Do you think she left Joey here?” Marsh asked.
Noah couldn’t imagine it, but he’d never imagined that he and his brothers would find themselves in a situation like this, either. “I saw somebody on the front lawn when I buzzed the orchard earlier,” he said. “It was a woman with bags slung over her shoulders. She was hunched over, so I couldn’t see her well, but now I think she was hiding Joey under an oversize sweatshirt or poncho.”
Reed got to his feet. “Was it Lacey?” he asked.
“I don’t know. She was wearing a scarf or a hood or something. I couldn’t even tell what color her hair was.”
“Why would Lacey leave her baby that way?”
“Why would anybody?” Noah said. “I guess we’ll know soon enough if it was her. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”
He strode through the house, where the television was still muted and where diapers and bottles and other baby items lay heaped on the table and countertops. Pointing his old pickup truck toward town seconds later, his mind was blank but for one thought.
If Joey was his, Lacey had some explaining to do.
Just once, Lacey Bell wanted to be on the receiving end of good luck, not bad. Was that too much to ask? Truly?
Looking around her at the clutter she was painstakingly sifting through and boxing up, she sighed. She was searching for a hidden treasure she wasn’t sure existed. Her father had spoken of it on his deathbed, but he’d been delirious and, knowing her dad, he could have been referring to a fine bottle of scotch. She so wanted to believe he’d left her something of value. Once a dreamer, always a dreamer, she supposed.
She’d emptied the closet and was filling boxes from her father’s dresser when the pounding outside began. She wasn’t concerned. She’d spent her formative years in this apartment and had stopped being afraid of loud noises, shattering beer bottles and things that went bump in the night a long time ago. It had been the first in a long line of conscious decisions.
Ignoring the racket, she swiped her hands across her wet cheeks and went back to work. After he’d died a year ago, she’d given her father the nicest funeral she could afford. She’d paid the property taxes with what little money was left, but she hadn’t been able to bear the thought of going through all his things, knowing he would never be back. A year later, it was no easier.
He’d lived hard, her dad, but he’d been a good father in his own way. She wished she could ask him what she should do.
She filled another carton and was placing it with the others along the kitchen wall when she realized the noise wasn’t coming from the alley, as she’d thought. Somebody was pounding on her door.
Being careful not to make a sound, she tiptoed closer and looked through the peephole. Her hand flew to her mouth, her heart fluttering wildly.
It was Noah.
“Lacey, open up.”
She reeled backward as if he’d seen her. Gathering her wits about her, she reminded herself that unless Noah had X-ray vision he couldn’t possibly know she was inside.
She caught her reflection in the mirror across the room. Her jeans were faded and there was a smudge of dirt on her cheek. She wondered when the rubber band had slipped out of her hair. Orchard Hill was a small city, so it stood to reason that she would run into Noah. Did it have to be tonight when she wasn’t even remotely ready?
“I’m not leaving until I’ve talked to you,” Noah called through the door.
“I’m busy,” she said with more conviction than she felt.
“This won’t take long.”
Silence.
“Please, Lace?”
A shudder passed through her, for Noah Sullivan was proud and self-reliant and defiant. Saying please had never come easy for him.
“I’ll break the damn door down if I have to.”
Knowing him, he would, too. Shaking her head at Fate, she turned the dead bolt and slowly opened the door.
Noah stood on her threshold, his brown eyes hooded and half his face in shadow. He was lean and rugged and so tall she had to look up slightly to meet his gaze. The mercury light behind him cast a blue halo around his head. It was an optical illusion, for Noah Sullivan was no angel.
Before her traitorous heart could flutter up to her throat, she swallowed audibly and said, “What do you want, Noah?”
His eyes narrowed and he said, “I want you to tell me what the hell is going on.”
Chapter Two
Noah was as ruggedly handsome as ever in faded jeans and a black T-shirt. His dark hair was a little shaggy, his jaw darkened as if he hadn’t had time to shave, but that wasn’t what made it so difficult to face him tonight.
“Have you been crying?” he asked.
Lacey tried not to react to the concern in his voice. It was dangerous and conjured up emotions she wasn’t ready to deal with. “I must have gotten something in my eye. I’m in the middle of something here. Now’s not a good time.” She moved as if to close the door.
He narrowed his eyes and looked at her so hard she almost believed he could have X-ray vision. “This won’t take long.”
“I mean it, Noah. You’re going to have to come back tomorrow. Or the next day,” she said, praying he didn’t hear the little quaver in her voice. The backward step she took was pure self-preservation, for the man was a weakness for which she had no immunity. “I’ve had a lousy day and I’m not in the mood for company.”
She was taking another backward step when he reached for her hand. Her senses short-circuited like a string of lights at the end of a power surge. His fingers were long, his grip slightly possessive. It brought out a familiar yearning born of loneliness, need and a great sadness.
“Aw, Lace, don’t cry,” he said, tugging lightly on her hand.
“I told you, I must have gotten something in my—” The next thing she knew, she was toppling into his arms.
Noah didn’t