Anybody's Dad

Tessa’s heart did a strange flip at the sight of Chase propped against the wide doorway, arms folded over his flat stomach. His slight smile, so very masculine and seductive, practically simmered in the air. God, he looked good, she thought, even in a simple blue T-shirt and very worn jeans.

“I beg your pardon?” Miss Dewberry said waspishly, and Tessa’s gaze shifted between her source of sleeplessness and her immediate source of a headache.

“The color, I mean.” He leaned back slightly and pulled a darker, more somber shade of the same dress from the rack and handed it to the woman. Tessa noticed it was a larger size. “This was made for you.”

Miss Dewberry smiled, for the first time in centuries Tessa imagined, then swept into the dressing room.

Chase’s gaze shifted to Tessa.

“Thank you,” she said, then lowered her voice. “She was really beginning to wear on me.”

“You look exhausted.”

“I am.” She collected the discarded garments, righting them on the hangers.

“Is that because of me?” he said with a grin.

Her eyes narrowed. “Yes. You and your imagined rights. What do you want, Mr. Madison?”

“For you to take it easy, for one thing.”

“Me and my baby were doing just fine.”

Until you, she was saying. His gaze slipped over her, the dark beige top and cleanly pressed slacks, but it was her face that showed her fatigue. Wisps of hair lay damp at her nape where she’d pulled the dark mass back in a wide bow. Shadows clung beneath her eyes, and a grayish pallor tinted her skin.

“Please leave my shop,” she said, suddenly uncomfortable. She bent to retrieve a box of shoes, yet when she straightened, she staggered. Chase lurched, catching her, taking her weight.

She sagged against him, drawing her breath slowly, blinking, and Chase lifted her in his arms and carried her out of the dressing room area.

“I’m quite capable of walking,” she said, squirming.

“You can hardly stand,” came in a warning tone, and she scowled at him. Her assistant looked up and raced to them, opening the door to her office and letting him inside.

“Can I get a doctor?”

“No.” Tessa was annoyed that Dana addressed Chase, waiting for his command. The interfering man.

“Just water,” Chase said, laying Tessa on the stuffed couch. He tugged off her shoes as Dana filled a glass from the cooler and brought it to him, then left, closing the door.

“I have to see to Miss Dewberry.”

“That crabapple can wait.”

“This is a business, Chase Madison, and I need hers.”

She started to get up, but he pressed her gently back down, handing her the glass before pulling a chair alongside the sofa. He sat. “Drink.” When she looked as if she’d rebel, he tipped the glass to her lips. She drank obediently. “Are you hungry?”

“I never had the chance to eat it,” she said, gesturing to the meal on her desk, her breathing a little fast. Chase stood and scooped up the sandwich and fruit, bringing it back and setting it beside her on the sofa. “Eat.”

“Eat. Drink,” she grunted lowly. “Can’t you do anything but bark at me?”

“Yes.” His gaze swept her leisurely. “But I’ll get to that later,” he said in the sexiest voice God could create, and Tessa had to smile. He really was too handsome.

She bit into the sandwich half, moaning with pleasure, and Chase wanted to hear more of it, when he kissed her someday. The sandwich was gone in seconds, and as she reached for the other half. Chase leaned back in the chair, stretching out his legs. It amazed him how much he enjoyed just watching her. She was totally focused on her food, devouring it in minutes, drinking water, popping bits of fruit into her lovely mouth. He didn’t think she remembered he was there until she frowned at the empty wrappers and looked around as if searching for crumbs. He chuckled and her gaze flew to his, a dull red creeping into her face.

Tessa wiped her mouth with a paper napkin and shrugged. She wasn’t going to make excuses for her appetite.

“Want me to get you more?”

“No, thank you. We’re satisfied.” She patted her stomach.

We. A package deal. Chase had racked his brains for a solution to their problem, but late last night, when only her fiery green eyes filled his mind, he realized that first he had to get to know her. Then they could do something about their child and the opposition they had.

Sitting here with her, taking care of her, felt so natural he wanted it to go on. However, the uncomfortable look on her face said she didn’t want him around, ever. It stung, he admitted, and abruptly stood to refill her glass.

A rap on the door and Dana popped her head around the panel. Chase looked up, glancing between the girl and Tessa.

“I’m sorry, Miss Lightfoot, but Miss Dewberry is asking for you. I tried to explain, but I think she’s going to leave.”

Tessa straightened, swinging her legs off the couch.

“You stay put,” Chase commanded, pointing at her, and Tessa froze. He looked at the salesgirl. “Tell Miss Dewberry to keep her shorts on. I’ll take care of her.”

“You?” both women squeaked, stunned.

“Yes, dammit, me.” He waved Dana on, then turned to Tessa, lifting her legs back onto the couch.

“I have to get back to her.”

His gaze darkened. She looked more ready to sleep than work. “Let her wait.”

“Chase Madison, this is my shop, my livelihood, and that woman—” she pointed to the door “—no matter how finicky she can be, is a very good paying customer.”

He towered over her, forcing her to crane her neck to look up at him. His body blocked the light, blocked any escape, and she felt like a prisoner before an armed Marine.

“Don’t try to tell me what to do,” she warned. “Just because there’s a child between us does not give you rights over my life.”

Chase’s shoulders drooped and he knelt beside the couch, looking her in the eye. “I deal with people like that woman all the time.” Her expression was doubtful. “I can’t tell you how many of my customers have decided what they wanted only to insist my crew rip it out and start over a week later.” When he realized she wasn’t buying the comparison, he tried another route. “You’re tired, Tessa. Your feet are swollen.”

She looked at them, wiggling plump toes. “I’ve learned to live with it.”

Chase sighed and snatched up a pillow, stuffing it beneath her knees, then pushing her back into the cushions. “I’m not trying to take over. God knows, I don’t know squat about women’s clothes.” He flashed her that devastating grin. “Except maybe taking them off.” Her eyes flared. “But,” he warned, “you’re pushing yourself too hard.” She opened her mouth and he put up his hand. “I swear I won’t let that old biddy leave without buying at least one of your creations.”

“She usually buys two, with shoes.”

Chase smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and Tessa felt the warmth of his honest feelings down to her sore feet. How had he wiggled his way into playing concerned lover? No, he wasn’t after her, she reminded herself, but his child, and she refused to believe he was interested in her, the woman. His marriage proposal was a path into her baby’s life. The baby obviously meant more to him than she had first imagined. Suddenly, Tessa hated him for trying to get close and she hated herself for getting comfortable.

Chase’s lips thinned as her expression suddenly hardened. He didn’t think someone so soft and lovely could deal such a loathsome look with that much power. He sighed tiredly, took the glass and set it on the desk.