The Detective's 8 Lb, 10 Oz Surprise
A BABY ON THE WAY—AND ON HIS DOORSTEPWhen an infant shows up on Nick Slater's desk with a note, this case has the detective stumped. And though Nick figures he's not exactly daddy material, he's resolved to care for this mystery child.At which point beautiful Georgia Hurley shows up in his office as well, with an explanation for why she dumped him—and sporting a baby bump that dates back to their one night together four months prior…Georgia knows she turned on Nick for his own good…but will Detective Daddy believe her? She offers to help care for his "temporary" baby for one week—surely the mother will turn up by then? And besides, they can both use the practice. But when the seven days are up, will they part ways and go back to their separate corners? Or will they find that seven days of living as husband and wife, mommy and daddy, just made them hungry for the real thing?
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God, he was handsome.
And shirtless.
He wore a pair of dark blue sweatpants and nothing else. She could barely take her eyes off his chest.
Memories came over her. The two of them sitting on the couch in her living room in her Houston condo. Talking. The tall, dark and incredibly hot cop making her feel safe, making her dream of a way out, making her want him like sheâd never wanted a man before. One minute heâd been telling her about his cat, Mr. Whiskers, and the next, heâd reached his hands up to her face and looked at her, then leaned in to kiss her, possessively and passionately, and sheâd responded. Within minutes theyâd been naked and on the soft shag rug.
From the way he was looking at her now, she had a feeling he was remembering, too.
âWell,â he said, glancing away. âIf youâre both all right, I guess Iâll leave you alone.â He turned to go, but Georgia sensed he wanted to stay, wanted a reason to stay.
She would give him one. And give Operation Dad more time to work.
* * *
Hurleyâs Homestyle Kitchen:
Thereâs nothing more delicious than falling in love â¦
MEG MAXWELL lives on the coast of Maine with her teenage son, their beagle and their black-and-white cat. When sheâs not writing, Meg is either reading, at the movies or thinking up new story ideas on her favourite little beach (even in winter) just minutes from her house. Interesting fact: Meg Maxwell is a pseudonym for author Melissa Senate, whose womenâs fiction titles have been published in over twenty-five countries.
For my dear friend Julia Munroe Martin. Lucky me to have a great friend and a great writer friend in one.
Contents
In the fifteen minutes it had taken detective Nick Slater to go down the street to Hurleyâs Homestyle Kitchen to pick up his lunch order of a roast beef poâboy with a side of spicy slaw, someone had left an infant in a blue-and-white baby carrier on his desk.
Nick froze in the back doorway of the otherwise empty Blue Gulch Police Station, staring at the baby and mentally taking stats.
Newborn, one month, maybe six weeks old. Boy, according to all the blue. Healthy, from the peaches-and-cream big cheeks and the rosy bow-shaped lips, slightly quirking. Cared for, given the cap and clean outfit, the hand-knit blanket tucked around him in the sturdy, padded carrier. Sleepingâfor now.
All that had been on his desk when he left were his frustrating notes on the Jergen burglary case, half-finished paperwork for Farley Meltonâs seventh disorderly conduct arrest of the year, a âjust becauseâ card with two folded twenties and a ten that he was going to send to his sister at Dallas City College, and a scrawled note from himself that he was running out to pick up lunch, back in ten.
Now there was a baby.
âHello?â he called out, expecting the parent or caregiver or someone, anyone to appear. The Blue Gulch Police Station wasnât very big. Aside from the main room with the long reception desk, and Nickâs and the other two officersâ desks, the chief had a private office next to the two jail cells and a break room that served as conference room, interrogation room and lunchroom.
âHello?â he tried again.
Silence.
Nick kept one eye on the baby and walked over to the break roomâempty. Chiefâs officeâempty. Jail cellsâone empty, one containing the sleeping form of Farley Melton.
Cynic that he was, he walked over to his desk, put the bag containing his lunch on his chair and lifted up the baby carrier to see if the cash was still in the card. It was. He set the carrier back down.
Okay, so the babyâs mother came in for some reason to talk to an officer or lodge a complaint, saw no one was around and set the carrier down while she went to use the restroom.
Except both restroom doors were ajar, the lights out.
Nick glanced out the windows at the front of the station to see if anyone was sitting on the steps or the bench. No one.
âHello?â he called out again, despite the fact that clearly no one was there. Except for Farley snoring in his jail cell and the gentle hum of an oscillating fan in the corner, the office was quiet.
Why would someone leave a baby on his deskâand when no one was in the station? He mentally went down the list of who in Blue Gulch had had a baby recently. The Loughs, who lived a quarter mile from here in the center of town. But they had a girl with blond wisps. Nick eyed the baby; fuzzy dark hair peeked around the babyâs ears, just below the blue cotton cap.
Then there were the Andersons, who lived on the outskirts of Blue Gulch and didnât often come to town. Theyâd had a boy back in June. Had one of the Andersons left the baby on Nickâs desk for some reason that even he, seasoned detective, couldnât come up with? Nick grabbed his phone, looked up their number and punched it in.
