Free Father Of The Brat by Elizabeth Bevarly

you’d rather just put the phone down for a few minutes…”
    Maddy took a deep breath and counted to ten, trying to ignore his implication that anything she might have to do with a man in her bed would encompass a very short length of time. “That won’t be necessary,” she finally said, striving to be as civil as she could.
    “So you’re not…entertaining a guest?”
    “Of course not.”
    “Well, you don’t have to make it sound like that.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like the possibility that you might have a man-friend over is about as likely as the possibility that you have a dead body buried in your backyard.”
    “And what makes you think I don’t have a dead body buried in my backyard?”
    As always, what had begun as a harmless conversation between the two of them had escalated into some kind of verbal assault. Maddy couldn’t remember a time when their relationship had been any different, nor could she imagine a time when it would ever change. The two of them simply rubbed each other the wrong way. She supposed they just weren’t meant to be compatible.
    “Maddy-”
    “What?”
    Silence was the only answer to her question until Carver quietly repeated, “You said I could call you if things got rough.”
    Finally Maddy relented. “Yes, I did. So things must be getting rough. Otherwise you wouldn’t be calling, right?”
    Instead of replying definitely one way or the other, Carver said, “Can you come to dinner tomorrow night? I think Rachel and I need a buffer to get things rolling.”
    “A buffer.” Maddy could scarcely imagine anything she’d rather be in the world. A buffer. Between Carver Venner and a twelve-year-old girl. How nice.
    “Yeah,” he went on, oblivious to her irritation. “She’s not exactly the most communicative person I’ve ever met. In fact, I don’t think her vocabulary includes any words that have more than two syllables. I was hoping maybe you could sort of break the ice for us.”
    A cool draft shuddered across Maddy’s bed, and she tugged her blanket up around her more tightly. “Carver, you should really try to be the one to do that. You and Rachel are going to have to face up to this arrangement sooner or later.”
    “We will. We just need a little help getting started.”
    Maddy had a million things she had to do the next day. She had a million people to interview, a million phone calls to make, a million places she had to be. She didn’t have time to indulge in an idle dinner with Carver Venner and his daughter. Nevertheless, she reminded herself, Rachel Stillman was one of her cases. The girl was, in effect, still something of Maddy’s responsibility. Even if Maddy didn’twant to spend any more time with Carver than she had to, she couldn’t very well turn her back on Carver’s daughter. Too many people had done that already.
    “What time should I be there?” she asked reluctantly.
    He sighed again, a distinctly relieved sound, and said, “How about six?”
    “Okay.”
    “Then you’ll come?”
    “I’ll be there as close to six as I can.”
    “Thanks, Maddy.”
    “You’re welcome, Carver.”
    For a moment, neither of them spoke, and Maddy began to grow a little anxious about the awkward silence. Just as she was about to say goodbye and hang up, Carver’s voice came over the line again, dark and quiet and dangerously seductive.
    “So, Maddy,” he began, the words coming out as a long, low, suggestive string of syllables, “you’re in bed, huh?”
    She paused for only a moment before replying warily, “Yeeeees.”
    Carver, too, hesitated briefly before continuing, but his voice was touched with humor when he finally asked, “So…what are you wearing?”
    Maddy couldn’t quite tamp down the smile that tickled her lips. It had been a while since she’d received a call from a heavy breather. And none of those had ever sounded nearly as interesting as Carver Venner. “Me?” she asked coyly, peeking under the covers to contemplate her