Kate Hoffmann

Daddy Wanted


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examining her perfectly manicured nails as she did. Jennifer glanced down at hers, nibbled short and unpolished. “What? Well, yes. I’ll show her right in.”

      Jennifer gave her a smug smile before she trailed after her toward Ryan’s office. He met them both at the door, a look of astonishment on his face. “Miss Rodriguez. This is a surprise.”

      “You remember me,” she said, gulping down the tremor in her voice.

      He took her elbow and showed her into his office. “Of course I remember you. Though that whole day was a blur, I do remember you.”

      She sat down in a chair and watched as he circled the desk. He wore a tailored suit and silk tie. His tanned skin contrasted sharply with his starched white shirt, and his hair, just a bit too long, brushed the collar of the shirt in boyish waves. The difference between the man she’d met at the drilling site and this man was startling. She’d remembered him as solid, rugged, with a blue-collar attitude about him. But this man was smooth, sophisticated, nothing like the man she’d pictured as she laid out her plan.

      Jennifer pushed out of the chair, realizing that she was completely out of her element here. “I—I shouldn’t have disturbed you. I know you’re probably very busy and—”

      “Please,” he said, “don’t go. I’ve actually been thinking about you.”

      She slowly lowered herself back into the chair. “Did you know Lucy is going home from the hospital today?”

      “Really?” Ryan asked. “I haven’t talked to Ben since that day in San Antonio. I took the blood tests, then came home the next day. Carolyn called me later in the week to tell me they found a match. I’m glad Lucy’s doing well.”

      “Carolyn and Ben got married,” she commented. “They were engaged once, a long time ago, and the case brought them back together.” She drew a deep breath. “Kind of like it brought us together.”

      “Right,” he murmured.

      A long silence spun out around them as Jennifer scrambled for another topic. “How are things going with your parents? Have they explained everything?”

      “They’ve tried to rationalize their side of the story,” Ryan replied, “but I’m not really interested in hearing their excuses. The bottom line is they paid ten thousand dollars for me in a supermarket parking lot. That’s all I really need to know.”

      “They’re your parents,” she said, distractedly fiddling with the strap of her purse. “They’ve loved you for twenty-seven years. I think that should count for something.”

      “Thanks to them, I’ll never know my real parents…the Mulhollands. They’re both dead.” He met her gaze squarely. “Did Rhonda and Jeffrey ask you to come here? Or are you here for Ben and Lucy?”

      Jennifer shook her head. “I have a…personal reason for coming.” She clasped her hands on her lap and drew a steadying breath. “Remember, at the hospital, you told me that if there was ever anything you could do for me, I should just ask?”

      “Don’t tell me you’ve got a client who needs a kidney transplant,” he teased.

      His smile warmed her blood and made her heart beat a little faster. Asking for a kidney would probably sound less ridiculous than her own request. Was she crazy to think he’d agree? Maybe it was all the hormones racing through her body that had rendered her temporarily insane. With a silent curse, she rose to her feet, ready to make her excuses and leave. But the moment she turned toward the door, a wave of dizziness washed over her.

      Jennifer covered her eyes with her hand and reached back for the chair. She hadn’t eaten lunch, and with the baby, if she didn’t eat something every hour or two, she got light-headed. In a heartbeat, Ryan was out of his chair and around his desk. He grabbed her arm and slowly helped her over to the sofa. “My God, you’re as white as a sheet.”

      “I—I’ll be fine,” Jennifer murmured. “I just need something to drink. A glass of juice maybe. Or a cookie.”

      “Lie down,” he said, fluffing a pillow behind her. “I’ll go get you something.”

      Jennifer groaned and flopped back on the pillow as he hurried out. “Why not just barf on his shoes?” she muttered. “That would get his attention.” She closed her eyes and swallowed back a wave of nausea. For most of the day, she managed to forget the implications of her pregnancy—telling her parents about the baby, preparing for childbirth, raising a child as a single mother. And then the baby would speak to her from the womb, reminding her of how radically her life had changed over the past four months. And how much it would change over the coming months.

      “Ay, chica estúpida,” she murmured. “You stupid girl. How did you ever get yourself into such a mess?”

      * * *

      “I NEED JUICE,” Ryan said, frantically rummaging through the refrigerator in the employee lunch room. “Why don’t we have any juice?”

      Ryan’s secretary stood behind him, anxious to help. “There’s cranberry juice in the vending machine,” Connie said.

      “I don’t know if she likes cranberry juice. Most people prefer orange juice. Or a piece of fruit. An apple would be good.” Ryan stared at the wide array of drinks they kept to offer to guests during meetings. Designer water, pop, some kind of cold coffee drink. But no juice. “Get me the cranberry juice,” he said, gathering up the lunch bags left inside the refrigerator. “And see if we have any cookies. She wants a cookie.”

      Ryan turned and hurried back to Jennifer, lunch bags clutched in his hands. There had to be something decent to eat in them. By the time he got back to his office, some of the color had returned to her face. He sat down beside her on the edge of the sofa and dropped the bags around his feet. Pressing his palm to her forehead, he scanned her features. “Are you feeling better? You don’t feel warm. It could be heat exhaustion. It’s been very hot lately.”

      Jennifer opened her eyes and smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

      He let his palm linger for a long moment, delighting in the silken feel of her skin beneath his fingertips, soft strands of hair brushing the back of his hand.

      “I don’t have a fever,” Jennifer murmured. “I’m pregnant.”

      Ryan snatched his hand away, startled by her sudden confession. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. Had he heard her right? Had she just told him she was pregnant? “You’re…”

      “Pregnant,” she repeated, glancing at his hand, which still hung in mid-air. “I don’t have the plague. I’m going to have a baby. And it’s not contagious.”

      He coughed softly to cover his embarrassment. “I—I’m sorry. It’s just that…well, you don’t look pregnant.” In truth, he felt a little guilty for his fantasies, considering her condition. It was like lusting after a nun!

      She stared down at her stomach with a morose expression. “I am. Nearly five months.” Pushing up on her elbow, she stared at him. “I haven’t told many people. It’s hard to say the words.”

      “And—and your husband? How does he feel about this?”

      Jennifer giggled. “And here I thought you were so smooth,” she teased.

      “I’ve got a pregnant woman swooning in my office,” Ryan retorted. “And no juice to be had. Give me a break.”

      “I don’t have a husband.” She ran her hand over her stomach, a barely noticeable swell the only evidence of her admission. “I don’t even have a boyfriend. The father, he doesn’t want anything to do with me or the baby, and I think that’s for the best.”

      Connie appeared at the door with a can of cranberry juice and an orange soda. He pushed to his feet and grabbed the drinks, then returned to Jennifer’s side. “Here,” he said, offering her the juice. “Try this.”

      She