Free The Homecoming Baby by Kathleen O`Brien Page B

that crème brûlée. There’ll be bloodshed here tonight if you didn’t.”
    â€œWe did.” Celia smiled at him and perched on the edge of his desk. “But they’re not my two boyfriends.”
    â€œOh, yeah?” Mitch smiled back. “That’s not what Trish told me.”
    She perked up. “She told you about Patrick? What did she say?”
    â€œThe truth? She said she thought you were about to make a big mistake. She said this one is a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of guy. To be perfectly honest, she asked me to do whatever I could to discourage the whole thing.”
    â€œOh.” She plucked disconsolately at her skirt. “Then I guess you wouldn’t be interested in helping me get a little time alone with Patrick.”
    â€œWho says I wouldn’t?”
    She looked up at him. “If Trish told you to discourage—”
    â€œWhat does Trish know about romance? She is clearly a bad judge of these things. Otherwise, she would have said yes to me a year ago.”
    His laugh held a poignant note in it, and Celia felta rush of affection for this very nice man. He was more than landlord and friend—though he was both of those to her. For several years now, he’d been like a father, and he was a far sight more gentle and understanding than her real father, a successful surgeon whose interpersonal skills weren’t quite as good as his surgical ones. In fact, her dad’s preferred method of dealing with opposition was to mow it down like a Sherman tank.
    Mitch was tolerant, wise, good-natured—and kind of cute, in a big brown puppy sort of way. What on earth was Trish thinking? Good guys like Mitch Dixon didn’t come knocking at a girl’s door very often. Celia herself had been looking for one for years now.
    â€œSo you’ll help me?”
    â€œI might.” He gave her a wink. “As long as you can promise me Trish won’t find out.”
    â€œShe won’t.”
    â€œOkay, then let me guess. You need me to find some excuse to keep the Scratch and Dent guy here so that the Hit and Run guy will be the one to take you home tonight.”
    She groaned. “God, Mitch, is that scratch and dent joke all over town?”
    â€œPretty much, I’m afraid.”
    She shook her head helplessly. “Anyhow, yes, that’s exactly what I need. You see, my date was with Patrick. Jerry showed up unannounced. And now he won’t budge. He’s sweet, but he has very little imagination.”
    His brown eyes twinkled. “Or maybe he has too much, and knows what might happen if he relinquishes the field.”
    â€œIt’s been over between us for months,” she said. “Jerry was supposed to forget about me. He was supposed to get on with his life.”
    He smiled. “Well, speaking as a guy in a similar situation, I have to say I respect a man who shows a little persistence.”
    â€œYou’re not anything like Jerry, Mitch. And besides, the circumstances are completely different. Trish has had a tough life. It’s made her very—”
    â€œStubborn?”
    She laughed. “I was going to say cautious. But you’ll get around that, I know you will. Just keep trying.”
    They walked to the door, but just before they opened it Mitch put his hand on her shoulder. “One last thing,” he said. “I need you to promise me something.”
    She looked up at him. “Anything.”
    â€œPromise me you’ll be careful. This Patrick guy seems nice, but you really don’t know much about him yet. And there’s something about him—I don’t know. He reminds me…”
    He shrugged and let the sentence drop. “I just want you to go slow. Don’t go putting your heart out where anybody can stomp on it.”
    Celia smiled. “Mitch, honestly. Don’t listen to Trish. She worries about everything, and she—”
    He shook his head.