Free Daddy by Surprise by Debra Salonen Page B

the color exactly because of my sunglasses, but the skin looks a little puffy. Let’s stop somewhere for a cold drink and I’ll check it out.”
    A nice ice bath—or jumping into one of the lakes they’d passed—sounded better, but he followed Kat’s directions into the town of Custer. A few minutes later, they were seated across from each other at a pizza joint.
    “Char claims this is the best pizza in the Hills,” she said after taking a long drink from the glass of water the waitress had left with the menus. “How does your back feel?”
    He stuck his fingers in his glass and fished out a couple cubes of ice. “It’s starting to sting a little. Is that normal?”
    He ran the instant relief around the back of his neck, locating the source of the anguish. The tattoo.
    He looked at Kat, who was frowning. “If you’re having an allergic reaction to the dye, it sure came on fast. From what I read, most reactions happen ten to fourteen days after application. Maybe we should find a clinic to check it out.”
    He made a scoffing sound. “I told you, I’m not allergic. But even if I were, I don’t need a doctor.”
    She shook her head. “Men. That’s exactly the reaction I’d expect from both of my exes. What is it with your gender? Haven’t you heard of anaphylactic shock? This could be serious.”
    “The tattoo itches a little. Maybe that’s the way the ink dries. No big deal. Can we order? I like pepperoni-and-mushroom.”
    “Me, too.” Her smile looked conciliatory. “Actually,” she admitted shyly, “I like pepperoni and anything.”
    She pulled out her forest-service map and showed him where they’d been and the road she planned to take back home. He pretended to pay attention, but the truth was growing more apparent by the minute that she was right and he was wrong. Very wrong. The fire was spreading from the tattoo on his back to the others. He wrapped both hands around the tall, red-plastic water glass to keep from scratching the spots that now felt as though an army of ants was setting up camp under his skin.
    He shifted his shoulders without meaning to.
    Kat’s eyes narrowed. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it.”
    He slumped back in the booth, sighing as the air-conditioning-chilled vinyl made contact with the burning cross on his back. “My arms and chest are starting to tingle, too.”
    He waited for an “I told you so,” but instead, she got up and walked away. Jack watched her cross the room to the pay phone hanging on the wall. She thumbed through the phone book suspended on a chain beside the phone. Her back was to him when she tucked the receiver under one ear.
    She returned to the table at the same time as the pizza arrived. Jack’s appetite had waned. Nerves, he figured. He hated doctors almost as much as he hated needles. “Thank you,” he and Kat both said when the waitress slid the steaming hot pie in front of them.
    “There’s an urgent-care facility a few blocks away. We can walk there, if you want. The receptionist said it was quiet at the moment and they could see you right away.”
    He could tell she was serious about having him looked at—probably to protect her own interests, since her tattoo had created the problem. “Nobody ever died of itching.”
    “One of my half-brother’s uncles died of an allergic reaction to shellfish. He didn’t even know he had a sensitivity until it was too late.”
    Jack scowled. “I’m not going to die in the next ten minutes. Can we eat first?”
    She didn’t say anything. Maybe she was used to men acting like stubborn fools. She sat and slid a piece of pizza onto her paper plate. After a brief pause—to pray or see if he’d changed his mind, Jack wasn’t sure which—she started eating.
    She ate with gusto. Jack would have, too, if he could have kept his mind on chewing. He tried, but it was no use. The problem was a problem.
    When the waitress returned to check on them, Jack had no choice but to ask for their bill and a