The Baby Bargain by Dallas Schulze Read Free Book Online Page B

that he remembered this was exactly where he and Brittany had sat two days ago. When she'd told him she was expecting a baby. Maybe there was something about this booth that lent itself to discussing pregnancies. He made a mental note to avoid it in the future.
    The waitress arrived before Dan had removed his coat. She knew Dan and gave him a friendly smile, sliding a curious glance at the girl across from him.
    "What can I get for you, hon? Coupla coffees to take the chill off?"
    "Coffee for me," Dan said. When the girl said nothing, he hesitated for a moment before continuing. "And a cup of tea."
    "Comin' right up."
    "I'm old enough to drink coffee," the girl snapped as soon as the waitress was gone.
    "I didn't say you weren't," he said, his tone sharp. "If you want coffee, I'll call her back."
    "Oh." She subsided back against the booth, a tinge of color coming up in her cheeks. "No. I don't really like coffee, anyway. Tea will be nice. Thank you." She added the last as punctiliously as a child at a tea party.
    Dan almost groaned. How the hell old was she, anyway? She'd removed her coat and the curves that were just visible
    beneath the shapeless gray dress were somewhat reassuring. Still...
    "How old are you?" he asked abruptly.
    "I'm eighteen." She seemed surprised by the question but she answered promptly.
    Eighteen. Geez, he should be shot. It could have been worse, of course. She could have been sixteen, or a well-developed fifteen.
    The waitress returned, setting steaming cups in front of them. "The apple pie is real good today, hon." She was looking at the girl as she spoke, a faint frown in her eyes, and Dan knew she was thinking that a good slice of pie might help fill out the hollows under her cheeks. Maybe the girl realized the same thing. She flushed and shook her head. With a shrug, the waitress left them alone.
    Neither of them spoke for a moment. It was left to Dan to break the silence.
    "Look...ah..." He stumbled to a halt, realizing too late that he didn't know her name. She lowered her head and he saw her knuckles whiten around the sturdy mug in front of her. He flushed, cursing his clumsy tongue and his lousy memory.
    "Kelly," she said with painful dignity. "Kelly Russell."
    "Kelly." He certainly wouldn't forget it again. He stared at his coffee, wondering just how one went about conducting a conversation like this. Maybe honesty was the best policy.
    "I was pretty drunk that night," he said quickly. "I'm not making excuses. I just want you to understand why there are some gaps in my memory. Some pretty substantial ones obviously."
    "There isn't that much to remember," she said in a flat little tone that sounded as if she was trying to pretend none of this mattered. "We met at the bar. We talked a little. We danced. It was noisy and you suggested going back to your apartment We...we..."
    "I remember," he broke in when she couldn't get the words out. And he did remember. He remembered how right she'd felt in his arms. He remembered her trembling response. That odd hesitancy at the end. And afterward, the feeling that something had gone wrong somewhere. He'd tried to talk to her but the night's drinking had finally caught up with him.
    When he'd awakened the next morning, she'd been gone. Since he hadn't been able to recall her name and he'd known nothing else about her, there had been no question of trying to find her. If he was honest with himself, there'd been a certain amount of relief in the realization. He didn't normally pick women up in bars and take them home with him.
    He had done his best to forget that night. And he'd succeeded reasonably well, only remembering her at odd moments. It had begun to seem almost as if it had happened to someone else. Only it hadn't been someone else—and that wasn't all he remembered.
    "You were a virgin," he said bluntly. He glanced up from his coffee to see the color sweep into her cheeks in a fiery flood.
    "Yes." Embarrassment reduced her voice to a strangled