Surprise Delivery(69)

Duncan is staring at me with those soulful brown eyes and a faint smile flickering on his lips. It’s then that I realize we’re still standing at the door and feel like an absolute moron.

“I’m sorry, please, come in,” I say.

He laughs as he steps inside and closes the door behind him. I lead him down the hallway and point to the kitchen. Duncan sets the bag down on the table and looks over at me.

“May I?” he asks, motioning to Aurora.

The thought of him holding my baby – our baby – makes me nervous. A flash of paranoia, as blinding as lightning, shoots through me, as I picture him taking my baby, turning, and bolting out the front door, stealing her away like a thief in the night.

It’s irrational and paranoid as hell, I know. Guys like Duncan don’t steal babies from their mothers – they have their lawyers do it for them. Plus, he’s giving no indication that he knows the truth, so I just bite my tongue and give him a smile as I hand Aurora over to him.

Duncan cradles her gently and the juxtaposition of such a large man holding such a tiny, delicate child is as striking as it is sweet. The look on his face is one of near rapture and the smile touching his lips is wide and warm. At that moment, he looks the part of a father doting on his newborn child and it absolutely melts my heart.

If only he knew the truth.

I open my mouth, part of me wanting to tell him that he’s holding his daughter, but I bite it back. There’s no way in hell I can tell him right now. Not until I have all of my legal ducks in a row. Some might think it’s cold. They might think it’s cruel. But I simply prefer to think of it as being prudent. Smart. I want to plan for every possible contingency because even though I can tolerate a lot of garbage, there’s one thing I will not do – I will never let my baby be taken from me.

“How is she doing, Alexis?” he asks.

“She’s good. Great,” I reply.

“No signs of illness or –”

I shake my head. “No, nothing. She seems perfectly healthy to me.”

He nods. “Good. That’s really good,” he smiles. “Though, I do advise you to come in within the next couple of weeks just for a healthy baby checkup. I think it’s a good idea just to follow up and make sure everything inside is okay too.”

“I’ll do that,” I say.

Duncan rocks her back and forth in his big, strong arms as he stares at her. Aurora coos and gurgles, giving him what looks like a smile in return. He turns to me and hands her back, placing her gently in my arms.

“I’ll go get some plates and all,” he says.

“I was just about to put her down to sleep,” I tell him.

“Perfect,” he replies, then turns and heads off toward the kitchen.

I carry Aurora into the bedroom and lay her down in the crib. I turn the mobile over her crib on and stand there, staring down at my little pink bundle of perfect. My heart swells just looking at her and with every passing moment, my love for her only grows and deepens. Which is exactly why, if Duncan plans on taking her from me, he’s going to pay a heavy price. He’s going to regret it because I will not lose her without the most epic fight in history.

After turning on the baby monitor, I carry the receiver with me back out to the living room. Duncan is already seated on the couch, with plates, forks, and napkins on the coffee table, and all the cartons of food spread out before him. He’s got the TV remote in hand and is flipping through some of the channels.

“Made yourself at home, I see,” I laugh.

He shrugs. “I wasn’t sure how long you’d be in there, so I thought I’d amuse myself,” he replies. “I can turn it off though.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” I say. “I usually watch something while I’m eating.”

As I round the couch, I’m struck by how – domestic – the scene is. I sit down on the floor with my back pressed up against the sofa and slide my legs under the coffee table. My heart is still beating fast, but this time, it’s not out of fear – it’s simply because I’m near him. Duncan turns those eyes to me and smiles, the bond that flows between us crackling like electricity in the air.

“So, what do you want to watch?” he asks.

The scene is so perfectly normal, it’s almost like we’re playing house or something. It’s the strangest feeling and yet, it feels so incredibly right at the same time. I can’t explain it. I don’t get it, but somehow, some way, this just feels – normal. It feels good and I can’t keep the stupid grin off my face.

“I don’t have a preference,” I tell him.

He nods. “Well, okay then, I guess it’s up to me.”

“Looks that way.”

He flips on a movie on one of the cable channels and I immediately burst out laughing. He turns to me, a crooked grin on his face.

“What?” he asks.

“Well, for one, I never pictured you as the sit at home, watching TV kind of guy.”

He shrugs. “I’m not much for the party circuit anymore. I used to be, but it’s just not my style any more,” he says. “Most evenings, you’ll either find me reading or watching TV. I’m kind of old and boring like that, I guess.”

“Hardly that,” I reply. “The second thing, though, is that I never pictured you watching – that.”