The Baby Jackpot Read Online Free PDF Page A

surgery—and felt she understood him a little better, too. “Are
you warm enough? I could turn on the heater.”
    “That’s not necessary.”
    Or you could scoot a little
closer.
    She nearly smacked herself in the forehead for thinking that.
From then on, she kept a firm grip on the wheel and her eyes on the road. Still,
she could feel him watching her.
    Stacy turned into the driveway of a modest ranch-style home.
She was thinking it was a nice place for a bachelor, until he told her to pull
up in front of a freestanding double garage topped by a small apartment.
    “You live up there?” Stacy studied the staircase dubiously.
    “It’s cozy,” he said.
    “What about your knee?”
    He followed her gaze. “There’s a handrail.”
    If only I’d been more careful.
    “Maybe your landlord will let you sleep on his couch,” Stacy
suggested.
    “My land lady is notoriously nosy.”
Cole released an exasperated breath. “I suspect she’s poked around my place once
or twice while I wasn’t home. If it wasn’t so much trouble, I’d move. In the
meantime, I’d rather not involve her.”
    Stacy would have offered up her couch, except that she lived on
the second floor, too. And, come to think of it, Reggie was sleeping over
tonight. “I’ll help you,” she offered.
    “Good plan.”
    They tucked the bike into the garage through a side door.
Glancing toward the house, Stacy saw a light on in what might be a bedroom, but
no one came to check on them.
    Together, they faced the challenge of the stairs, ascending in
a series of steps and hops. Cole stood six inches taller than Stacy and had the
tightly muscled build of a cyclist, which served him well as he balanced between
her and the rail. Once, his knee nearly buckled and they swayed perilously.
Stacy tightened her arm around his lean hips and firm butt.
    Never mind that.
    When they reached the top, they were both breathing hard. He
keyed open the lock and they performed a dancelike maneuver to let the door
swing out. “It’s built wrong,” Cole said. “It should open inward.”
    “That’s odd,” Stacy said as she slipped inside. She pictured
her own door. Yep, it opened inward.
    “My landlady had her brother-in-law install it on the cheap.”
Cole flicked on the weak overhead fixture. “I suspect they built the whole unit
without the proper permits.”
    The small living room, flanked by a kitchenette, must have come
furnished. Stacy felt certain he hadn’t shipped the sagging, oversized sofa,
dented coffee table and mismatched chairs cross-country.
    The room also sported a big screen TV, a gaming system and a
shiny laptop.
    Guy toys.
    Cole switched on a crystal table lamp and killed the overhead
light. In the golden glow, the room transformed into a cozy lair.
    “Better,” she said. “That’s a beautiful lamp.”
    “I picked it up at a shop called A Memorable Décor. One of the
employees there suggested it.” Cole limped to the refrigerator and peered
inside. “I can offer you a range of reduced-sugar juices, which sound terribly
boring even as I speak the words, or a late-night snack of cottage cheese,
yogurt or leftover German potato salad that was tasty when I had it for dinner
several nights ago.”
    “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”
    “Good. That gives me an excuse to suggest ice cream.” The small
freezer section opened to reveal several tubs.
    “Cole...”
    “You’re right.” Without giving her time to finish, he closed
the fridge. His mouth curving regretfully, he studied Stacy. “I can feel my
alcohol level rising, and no doubt so is yours. Common sense dictates that you
should leave. I just have one favor to ask.”
    “Name it.”
    “Wrap my knee before you go?”
    “Of course.” She should have thought of that. “Do you have a
bag of frozen vegetables?”
    He blinked. “I thought you weren’t hungry.”
    “To use as an ice pack.”
    Cole grinned. “No, but I have ice. And plastic bags.”
    “I’ll get one ready.”
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