The Baby Legacy. Pamela Toth

we play racquetball.”

      No wonder Mac appeared to be in such good shape. “Do you ski?” she asked.

      He shrugged. “My parents are into it and I learned while I was growing up, but I don’t have much time for it anymore. Do you?”

      “Not well.” She grinned. “And not lately.”

      His answering smile was dazzling. “We’ll have to teach junior to ski,” he said.

      The image of the three of them was a tempting fantasy to Megan, who had longed for a family of her own. She had to remind herself that Mac was only here because of the baby, not to forge some cozy relationship with her. His intentions might be sincere, his enthusiasm high at the moment, but who knew what the future would bring? Had he really thought about the long years involved in raising a child? It wouldn’t be smart to count on him too much.

      “I’m not thinking that far ahead,” she said firmly.

      “That’s understandable.” Did he realize she still had serious doubts about him? He struck her as a man who always got what he went after. What if what he wanted this time was her baby?

      Panic hit, followed closely by a wave of exhaustion. She glanced at her watch, surprised by how late it was. She needed more sleep than usual and the added stress she’d been dealing with these last few days was starting to take its toll. She smothered a yawn.

      “Tired?” Mac reached over to pat her free hand. His fingers were callused, but his touch was unbelievably warm. Startled by her vulnerability, she eased away from him on the pretense of shifting her purse. This wasn’t the time to start leaning on anyone. “It’s past my bedtime,” she explained. “Expectant mothers need more sleep.”

      His expression cleared. “Of course, I nearly forgot—” He broke off abruptly.

      What had he been about to say, that her pregnancy had slipped his mind? Not likely. He was probably referring to some of the side effects Claire had mentioned in class. Exhaustion, moodiness, insomnia, increased or diminished libido. She’d blushed at that one, but Mac hadn’t appeared to notice.

      “Ready?” he asked now. When she nodded, he slid from the booth and held out his hand.

      Megan considered pretending not to notice. The attraction she felt toward him would only complicate things. Then she decided a woman in her condition needed her thrills, too. She allowed him to help her to her feet and grimaced as she tried to maneuver herself out of the confined area of the booth.

      His gaze dropped to her stomach and he swallowed, looking suddenly apprehensive.

      “I’m not going into labor just yet,” she said with a sniff. “You don’t have to get nervous.”

      His grin flashed and she had to stifle a sigh of response. “It shows? I’m trying to be stoic, but this is all pretty new stuff. I don’t have much experience with kids.”

      Not knowing how to reply, Megan headed for the exit. Mac followed her out to her car as she wondered how wide her butt looked from the back. Digging out her keys and facing him, she felt as awkward as if she were bidding a blind date good-night.

      “Thanks for the sundae,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you at class, unless you’ve changed your mind?” The question came out sounding more hopeful than she’d intended. Well, she refused to hide her feelings. She hadn’t wanted him involved and she wasn’t entirely convinced this was a good idea. He’d have to deal with that.

      Mac surprised her by gently capturing her wrists. “You aren’t going to lose me this easily,” he said, drawing her closer, “so you might as well get used to my presence in your life.” Then he startled her even more by leaning down and kissing her cheek. The brief touch of his lips was warm and his cologne, something spicy, teased her senses.

      “Accept it, Megan,” he said, voice husky as he straightened and released her. “I’m sticking. We’re in this together.”

      Going down the long driveway to his house, side window open to the crisp night air, Mac heard Rusty start to bark from the big backyard. Although it was surrounded by a tall wood fence, the dog knew the sound of Mac’s truck. Archer, who’d been dog-sitting, had probably dropped the Irish Setter off on his way home from work.