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‘You don’t?’ He had a gleam in his eyes. He was trying to lighten the mood. Ease the stress they were both under. ‘Is your apartment cold upstairs? You were bundled up like you live in an igloo.’
She took a sip of the soda he’d just poured for her. ‘No. It was comfort clothes. I was freezing when I got in—I ruined my suede boots walking in that mucky slush. My raincoat was covered in muddy splatters and all I could think about was getting inside, heating up and eating myself silly.’
He tilted his head as he sat down. In this dim light in the kitchen he had really dark brown eyes. Comforting kind of eyes. The kind you could lose yourself in.
‘And what does eating yourself silly involve?’
She shrugged. ‘Chocolate. In all varieties. Macaroni cheese. Grilled bagels with melted cheese. Porridge. Pancakes.’ She pointed towards the ceiling. ‘I bought some stuff at Mr Meltzer’s before I came home. I was worried I’d be stuck inside for a few days with no comfort foods.’ She gave him a grin and shook her head. ‘Believe me, that would not be pretty.’
He eyed her closely, the smell of pizza starting to fill the apartment. ‘And would you be willing to share some of your stash?’
Her smile widened. The atmosphere was changing between them. They were going from frantic neighbours to something else entirely. Were they flirting here? Was that what was happening? It had been so long for Carrie she wasn’t sure she remembered how.
She rested her elbows on the table, sitting her head in her hands. ‘Oh, I don’t know about sharing. I might be willing to trade.’
‘Aha, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.’
‘What does that mean?’
The gleam wasn’t disappearing; in fact, if it was possible, it was getting naughtier. ‘You come down here with your innocent smiles, woolly socks and grandma pyjamas—not forgetting an abandoned baby—with your tales of a huge pirate haul of comfort foods upstairs, and now you’re trying to hold me to ransom.’ He leaned back in his chair and tapped the surface of the table. ‘You’re not really a grandma-pyjamas girl, are you? That was all just a ruse—you’re really a sexy negligee kind of girl.’ He lifted his hand and tapped his chin. ‘The question is, what colour?’
She could feel her cheeks start to pink up. She hadn’t been imagining it. He was flirting with her. And the thing that amazed her—or terrified her—was she wanted to flirt right back. Could she trade her bagels for a kiss?
Wow. That thought made the blood rush into her cheeks. ‘What’s wrong with grandma pyjamas? They hide a multitude of sins.’
He didn’t hesitate. ‘You don’t have any sins to hide.’
She felt her breath stall. She couldn’t breathe in. She definitely couldn’t breathe out. She was stuck in that no man’s land. He’d said it so quickly. He didn’t even have to think about it twice.
What did that mean?
She made a vague attempt to laugh it off—feeling like a nervous teenager instead of a capable twenty-seven-year-old woman. ‘You’re a man. You really have no knowledge of water-filled bras or hold-your-gut-in underwear.’
He leaned across the table towards her. A cheeky smile across his face. ‘And you have no need for either.’
He stayed there. Inches away from her face. Letting her see the tiny, fine laughter lines around his eyes and the smattering of freckles across his cheeks.
Up close and personal Daniel Cooper looked good enough to eat.
And then there was the smell. His cologne. It was affecting her senses. Everything seemed heightened.
Her skin prickled, her hairs standing upright. Her mouth felt dry, her tongue running across her lips.
She couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth. Or maybe it was his brown eyes. The kind you could melt into. Both were distracting her. Both were making entirely inappropriate thoughts about a man she hardly knew invade her brain and send a warm feeling to her stomach.
A feeling she hadn’t felt since...
It was like a bucket of cold water being tipped over her head. That, and the awareness of the little contented noises from the crib off to the side.
That was why she was here.
Not for any other reason. Dan wasn’t interested in her. Not really. He just didn’t want to be stuck with some strange baby on his own. He’d made that perfectly clear.
The rest?
She hardly knew the guy, and with handsome looks and a job like his? He probably had women eating out of the palm of his hand.
The thought made her pull back in her chair, her sudden movement causing him to blink and a wrinkle to appear on his brow.
She fixed her eyes on the table. They were safe there.
‘Don’t you have a friend you can call to help you with Abraham overnight? I’m sure you must have plenty of female friends who’d be willing to give you a hand.’
‘What does that mean?’
She shrugged, trying to look complacent. Trying to pretend she hadn’t just almost asked him out loud if he had a girlfriend. ‘It means there must be someone other than me who can give you a hand.’
He shook his head. ‘All the female cops I know are currently run off their feet on duty. My friends who are married all stay too far away to get here and help.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘And the past few female companions I’ve had—I wouldn’t let within fifty feet of this little guy.’
She almost choked on her soda. ‘Then maybe you should be more selective with your female friends.’ It was meant to sound playful, but it came out like a chastisement. All because her insides were wound up so tightly.
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Maybe I should.’
It was left hanging in the air between them.
She had no idea what to make of that. She shifted uncomfortably in the chair. ‘You mean there’s absolutely no one you can ask to help you out?’
‘Just you.’
‘Dan...’ She looked out at the falling snow. If it were even possible, it seemed to be falling even heavier.
She looked around the apartment and threw her hands in the air. ‘I don’t like this, Dan. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. It doesn’t matter that you’re a cop and one of the “good guys”.’ She put her fingers in the air and made the sign. ‘Baby or no baby, I can’t stay in an apartment with some strange guy. I’m just not comfortable.’
He leaned back in his chair, watching her with those intense brown eyes.
‘What if I promise not to come near you at night? You can sleep in my room and I’ll sleep on the sofa. We can move the crib during the night. That way—you’ll still have some privacy but we’ll both know the other is there if we need a hand.’
Her. In a room by herself with Abraham in a crib. She was going to throw up right there and then.
And then Dan did something. He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘I need help, Carrie. I need you. Don’t say you can’t do it.’
A lump a mile wide appeared in her throat.
He was leaning towards her in the dim light. Her eyes fixated on his lips. What was wrong with her? And what was wrong with her emotions?
Everything about her wanted to run right now.
But her ethics and her goodwill were making her stay. She couldn’t abandon Abraham right now. His own mother had already done that.
She had been the one to find him. She should be the one responsible for him.
‘I feel really awkward about all this, Dan.’ She sighed.
‘Then let’s see if we can make you feel unawkward.’
‘Is that even a word?’
‘It is now.’ He put his head in his hands. ‘So, Carrie McKenzie, what’s your favourite movie?’
‘What?’ It was so not what she was expecting. She was expecting him to pry. To ask why she’d reacted like that. To ask what had been wrong
with her this whole evening.
The question was totally random and took her by surprise. It took a few seconds for her brain to think of an appropriate response. ‘If it’s adults’ it’s Dirty Dancing. If it’s kids’ then definitely Toy Story. What kind of a question is that anyway?’
‘A getting-to-know-you question,’ he said as he took a sip of his soda. Just like that. So matter-of-fact. Boy, this guy didn’t mess around. He raised his eyebrows at her. ‘What? You’ve never been on a date and done the getting-to-know-you questions before?’
She opened her mouth to react, to ask what he meant, then stopped herself dead. He was being casual. He was being cool. And anything she would say right now would be distinctly uncool.
One moment she’d been staring into his eyes wondering what it would be like to kiss him—next they were having a first-date kind of conversation.
She took a deep breath. ‘It’s been a while,’ she said quietly. ‘I guess I’m out of practice.’
‘How long?’
His question was fired back straight away. She could tell a lie here and try and pretend to be blasé. But it just didn’t suit her. ‘About seven years.’ She lifted her head and looked him straight in the eye. She’d had to think about that. Had it really been that long? She’d dated Mark for five years before she was pregnant with Ruby, and it had been more than a year since then. To Dan’s credit he didn’t even blink, no smart remarks, no more questions. It was as if he just filed the information away for use at a later date.
She shouldn’t have said anything. It was time to move things back to the original question. Get off this subject completely. ‘You do realise I had to leave out the musicals—for obvious reasons.’
