The Paternity Factor. Caroline Cross

eyes had flown open and she’d found herself staring at a wad of fresh tissues, held by a handsome stranger with soot black hair and the kindest, most beautiful gray eyes she’d ever seen.

      For a moment all she could do was stare at him. Then, miserably aware he must think she was the biggest baby ever, she’d mumbled a thank-you, taken the tissue and carefully blown her nose, refusing to meet his gaze. Instead she’d just sat there, too mortified to do or say anything.

      To her surprise, after a moment he’d sat down beside her, his hard, warm shoulder touching hers as if they’d known each other forever. “Tough day, huh?”

      She’d nodded, swallowing around the fresh lump in her throat at the unexpected sympathy in his voice.

      “You must be Jessy,” he’d said. “I’m Shane. One of Bailey’s friends.”

      “Oh,” she’d said stupidly.

      He hadn’t seemed to notice that in addition to being a crybaby, she was also a moron. Instead he’d leaned back on his hands, nodded in the direction of her raw knees and said casually, “So...is there somebody you want me to beat up for you?”

      She’d been so stunned by the offer she’d forgotten her swollen eyes and red nose and turned to look at him. “You’d do that for me?”

      He’d shrugged, and her heart had felt a little lighter as she’d seen the sudden spark of laughter in his eyes. “Sure. I don’t have a little sister of my own. It would be my pleasure.”

      That had been the start of an unlikely friendship that had sustained her through the next ten years. One way or another, Shane had always been there when she needed him. When she’d tripped and broken her wrist at sixth-grade graduation, he’d been the one who’d kept her company while the doctor set the fracture. When she’d gotten braces and grown five inches freshman year, it had been Shane who’d assured her she wasn’t a freak. He’d taught her how to play pool, shoot a basket and cheat at poker. He’d listened when she needed to talk about her mother, and shown up with the world’s hokiest horror movie when she didn’t have a date for the prom. He’d brought laughter and security back to her life and she’d adored him for it.

      Like the naive child she was, she’d thought he would be there for her forever. In some romantic, unrealistic part of her mind, she’d believed she and Shane were destined to be together, that he’d wait for her until she grew up. So even though she’d known he was dating Marissa Larson, a petite, ultrafeminine blonde who was everything she wasn’t, she’d been totally devastated when Shane had announced his engagement ten days before she was scheduled to leave for college.

      She could smile about it now, but it had taken her a considerable amount of time to put it in perspective and accept that her love for Shane had been a childhood kind of thing. She shook her head, remembering.

      Still, it didn’t really matter. Whatever name she put on what she’d felt for him in the past—true love, childish crush, teen idolization—it didn’t change the fact that she considered him one of the best friends she’d ever had.

      Or that this was her chance to pay him back for all the years he’d stood by her.

      She reentered the family room, where Chloe was once again parked in front of the TV set watching a video. All alone, with her thumb in her mouth and her long silky lashes looking like miniature fans every time she blinked, she was the picture of defenseless innocence. Jessy slowed her pace, startled by the strength of the protective urge that swept through her at the sight of that sweet little face.

      A sudden sense of purpose filled her. Shane might have taken off, but Chloe was here—and definitely in need of an adult she could count on. Making her voice light and cheerful, she said, “Hey, sweetie. I was thinking. It’s a beautiful day out.” She approached the child and tried to look reassuring. “How would you like to go for a walk before dinner?”

      The toddler glanced over, appeared to consider, then said uncertainly, “’Kay.”

      “It’ll be fun,” Jessy promised. “We can take some bread and see if we can’t find some ducks to feed down at the lake.”

      The child perked up, climbing to her feet with a sudden look of interest. “Duckies go quack-quack.”

      “Yes, they do.” Jessy ejected the video, turned everything off and held out her hand. “You’re pretty smart, aren’t you?”

      Chloe hesitated, then took a few steps and tentatively laid her soft little hand in Jessy’s. Looking up through her lashes, she nodded.

      Jessy’s heart melted, while her resolve hardened. Don’t worry, baby. One way or another, whether he likes it or not, I’m going to chase those shadows from your daddy’s eyes. After all, as Shane himself had taught her, that was what friends were for.

      She smiled down at his daughter. “Come on, kiddo. We’re going to have some fun. I promise.”

      

      “Good morning,” Jessy said cheerfully.

      She watched with distinct satisfaction as Shane rocked to a halt in the doorway that led from the hall into the kitchen. In the split second before his expression smoothed out, his dismay at finding her already up at such an early hour was obvious.

      His lack of composure didn’t last long. “Good morning,” he returned brusquely. Resplendent in a crisp white shirt and a beautifully cut gray linen suit that set off his inky hair and his olive-toned skin to perfection, he came the rest of the way into the room. He set the morning newspaper on the breakfast bar. “What are you doing up?”

      She gave a little shrug. “I heard you come in from your run, and since I was wide-awake, I decided I might as well get up and put the coffee on.”

      “Huh.” He pulled out a stool, sat and opened the newspaper, effectively dismissing her.

      So what else was new? she asked herself, struck once again by the immense change in him. It had been after midnight when he finally came home that first night, and he’d been gone again before seven the next morning, a pattern that had repeated itself in the three days since. Except for a photocopy of his schedule that he left her each morning, Jessy’s chief contact with him was by phone. As if to prove he wasn’t completely irresponsible, he called every day to ask how things were going.

      She swallowed a rude sound and turned to watch the coffee as it slowly filled the pot. Although she hadn’t expected him to suddenly decide he was overjoyed by her presence, neither had she expected him to avoid his own home as if it were infested by the plague just because she was in it.

      But he had. He was. And she’d had enough. After three days of thinking about it, she’d decided it was time to get tough.

      In the nicest possible way, of course.

      The coffeepot gave a last sputter, indicating it was done. She looked over at Shane. “The coffee’s ready. Would you like a cup?”

      He was silent a moment, then glanced up. “Sure.”

      She got a mug from the cupboard, filled it with coffee, added some creamer and set it down beside him.

      “Thanks.” He went back to the paper.

      “You’re welcome.” She took a moment to study him, taking in the firm line of his freshly shaven jaw, the inky blackness of his thick eyelashes, the latent sensuality of his mouth.

      He shifted, raising the paper higher and she glanced away, feeling the oddest little ache. Giving herself a mental shake—what was that all about?—she crossed to the other counter and went back to the batter she’d been putting together when he walked in. She checked the recipe, added the last few ingredients, then picked up the bowl and a wire whisk and began to stir. After a few moments, she turned. Resting her backside against the counter, she glanced at Shane. “I hate to bother you,” she lied, “but I have a favor to ask.”

      “Yeah? What?”

      Although