Having His Baby by Beverly Barton Read Free Book Online Page A

things in common," he said as he pulled a chair up beside her bed.
    "What do we have in common?"
    "First of all, we've got a daughter. Your child and mine."
    "Well, yes, there is that, but—"
    "And we've got this!" Jake leaned over, circled her neck with his big hand and pulled her toward him. Before she had a chance to protest, he kissed her.
    By the time he finished, Donna was breathless. She stared at him with dazed eyes. "Yes, there is that, too." Then she reached out, pulled him back down to her and kissed him as soundly and as thoroughly as he had her.

Three
    Jake had insisted on driving mother and child home from the hospital in his Jeep. As he pulled up alongside Donna's sleek little Corvette in the driveway of an address in one of Marshallton's more prestigious neighborhoods, he realized the ten-year-old truck he had bought from Hank didn't begin to compare. What bothered him more than the difference in their vehicles, however, was Donna's house. A white, two-story Colonial in the historical district of Marshallton. Obviously, the woman had money. Which meant she didn't need financial support from him. He'd seen the farmhouse at the Henry Ranch and it didn't hold a candle to Donna's place on Mulberry Lane. Even if they remodeled the farm house from top to bottom, would Donna ever be satisfied living there?
    What could he offer a woman who apparently had everything? he wondered. Probably nothing she wanted or didn't already have.
    The balloon bouquet Susan had tied to the lamppost bounced in the evening breeze. Sheila opened the front door, which was decorated with a huge pink balloon, and ushered them inside. The smell of barbecue greeted their senses as they entered the house. Jake's brothers stood in the foyer, below the pink-and-white banner that read Louisa Christine Bishop. Their Little Miss Bishop's homecoming had turned into a major celebration. Caleb and Hank took turns videotaping the whole affair and the family replayed the tape twice before they left.
    Jake gazed down at his daughter, asleep in her basinet. I can't give your mama anything she wants or needs. What about you? What can I give you, Sugar Baby? What does a little girl need most?
    Donna waved goodbye to the Bishops, closed the front door and returned to the den where Jake stood over Louisa's basinet, watching his sleeping daughter. Donna wished that he wasn't so fascinated with their baby. He didn't seem like the type of man who'd go all mushy inside over an infant, especially a female infant. But what did she know about Jake? Nothing really. Maybe he'd always wanted a child or maybe he had a soft spot in his heart for little girls.
    "I'm really tired, Jake. I think I should take Louisa to my room and go to bed myself." She paused several feet away from him, waiting for him to look up and acknowledge her presence.
    He glanced at her, smiled and nodded his head. "I'll wheel the basinet to your room, if you'll just show me the way."
    Donna hesitated. Oh, what the heck! "All right. But I'll carry Louisa. You'll have to lift the basinet to bring it upstairs. That's where my bedroom is."
    "Sure thing. No problem." He removed the sleeping infant from the basinet, handed her to Donna and then picked up the eyelet-lace-adorned basinet.
    Donna ascended the stairs slowly, her body still in a state of recovery from the recent delivery. Jake followed her, adjusting his pace to hers. The minute he entered Donna's private domain, he stopped, let out a long, low whistle and shook his head. The room possessed the same elegance and style as the woman, and was as far removed from his lifestyle as Donna was from the women he'd known over the years.
    Donna eased her sore, weary body down onto her bed and waited for Jake to bring the basinet closer. But he didn't move. He just stopped in the doorway, his gaze scanning the area from the corona over the Louis XVI bed to the French doors that led out onto a small balcony overlooking the backyard garden.
    From the