Free Some kind of wonderful by Maureen Child, Copyright Paperback Collection (Library of Congress) DLC Page B

long second or two.
    "I'm on it."
    She turned and left him and Jack's gaze just naturally dropped to the curve of her truly excellent butt. The hem of her denim shorts was frayed and a few long, white threads fell against her tanned thighs as she walked into the kitchen. Her T-shirt was short and Jack caught tantalizing, mouth-watering glimpses of her sleekly tanned back as she moved with a grace that was smooth and easy and, he thought, all too intriguing.

    She hit the light switch and he blinked against the sudden brightness.
    Jack had had no intention of sticking around Carol Baker's place. One, it was the middle of the night and, two, he didn't think it was a smart move to spend too much time with a woman he'd already noticed smelled like springtime. Now that he was noticing her thighs and the narrow span of her waist, there was even more reason for him to head for the hills.
    Women like her were complications, and when a man's life was as seriously screwed as his was, one more complication just wasn't something he should be looking for.
    Deliberately, then, he looked away from the bright light of the kitchen and retreated to the shadows. His apartment was laid out exactly like hers, so he went toward the short hall and took a quick right into her bedroom. He saw the crib his sister Maggie had loaned her, set up on the far side of Carol's bed, and headed for it.
    A slash of moonlight speared through the window, illuminating the darkness enough that he didn't trip over the quilt rack Carol kept at the foot of her bed. Or stumble into the little stool sitting in front of an old-fashioned dressing table and mirror. In the pale wash of light, he noticed the framed landscapes on the wall, the antique quilt covering the queen-sized bed, and the Tiffany-style shade on the bedside lamp. Her closet doors were open and he saw that her clothes were as organized as her shop. There was a lot of stuff in the room, but somehow, it didn't look messy. Everything was neat and tidy and ... cozy.
    Unlike his own place across the hall, which was... serviceable. But then, his place wasn't a home, was it? He wasn't surrounding himself with memories and scraps of his past, as Carol so obviously was. In fact, he was doing

    everything he could to completely forget about his past.
    Which would be a hell of a lot easier if he could just get through a whole night without dreaming about it. Like most other nights, that recurring nightmare had had him up and pacing his apartment like a caged animal. He walked because he couldn't sit still under the onslaught of images racing through his brain. He stayed awake because in sleep, came pain. And he was here, in Carol's apartment, because dealing with a screaming infant was still better than being left alone in the past.
    The baby squirmed in his grasp, and with that gentle movement, she dragged him back to the matter at hand. Just for a second or two, he stared down at the baby and smiled. Her dark hair was just a dark wispy promise and her tiny mouth puckered and worked like she was sucking on a bottle. Her long, dark eyelashes brushed her cheeks and her little chin wobbled as her mouth worked.
    "You're a cutie, aren't you?" he whispered, running his finger along her cheek. "You ought to take it easy on Baker, though," he said, one corner of his mouth tipping up. "She's doing her best."
    The baby yawned hugely and Jack grinned. "Apparently, I'm boring you."
    He'd always had a gift with babies. They just seemed to like him for some reason. When his little sister Peggy was born, no one in the house could make her stop crying—except Jack. His father had called it the magic touch.
    Magic touch.
    Yeah, like Midas in reverse, Jack thought. One touch from him and his world turned to shit. Shaking his head,

    he reached over the bars of the crib and laid the baby down on the freshly ironed sheets.
    "Liz," he whispered as he drew up the soft blanket to cover her. Lizardbaby. Shaking his head, he asked himself,