In His Will by Cathy Marie Hake

curtain’s cord.” She chewed on her lip. “I’m not sure about where to put the changing table.”
    Jabbing his thumb at the opposite wall, Dylan said, “There. When you’re changing him, and he sprouts a leak, the closet and curtains are both out of range.”
    Sondra blinked at him. “How did you know that?”
    “Mom was a baby magnet. Folks knew she’d watch their kids anytime, for any reason. If someone was sick or needed a break or wanted to go off on a romantic getaway, they knew Mom would gladly take on their kids. I’ve changed more diapers than you could ever count,” Dylan admitted gruffly.
    She laughed, then turned. “I’ll bet you’re thirsty, Jim. Can I get you some lemonade or soda?”
    “Either would be nice, ma’am. Thanks.”
    Sondra went down the hall toward the kitchen. Dylan followed right behind her. When she opened the refrigerator, he reached and grabbed a soda. Dylan was careful not to touch her. Oh, he loomed as close as possible, but he didn’t actually allow himself to make contact. He just might end up doing something stupid if he did. Like shaking her ’til her teeth rattled. Or kissing her.
    Yeah, he wanted to spin her around and plant a kiss on her. He ached to hold her and stop pretending to be nothing more than a helpful neighbor or financial partner. A man couldn’t be more warped than this—to want a woman carrying another man’s child. His timing stank. She didn’t want him; he’d undoubtedly drive himself insane, wanting her.
    He tried to concentrate on the soda. Sondra had asked what brand he preferred and kept some on hand for him. He’d been flattered. Now that the soda was waiting, ice cold, for him, he should have felt even better—but he didn’t. He noticed she’d offered Jim a drink. Not him. Just Jim. He purposefully didn’t straighten back up. His fingers flexed around the aluminum can as the cool air blasted out of the refrigerator.
    “Please, Dylan, excuse me.”
    Something in her tone struck him as wrong. Mostly the way those last two words came out in a strained puff of air. He stepped back and wondered why she didn’t uncurl. “Sondra?”
    A long second passed. “Hmm?” Slowly, she straightened.
    Scowling, he demanded, “What’s going on?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Baloney. You just shut the fridge and didn’t get Jimmy-boy’s drink.”
    Color tinged her cheeks. “Oh. I didn’t, did I?” She opened the door again.
    He slammed it shut. “Enough of this nonsense, woman. What just happened?”
    “I had a little cramp, is all.”
    His can was on the countertop in nothing flat. Dylan scooped her up and headed for the couch. “It’s too soon! Why didn’t you say something straight off?”

Eleven
    Clutching his shoulders, she squeezed to stop his tirade. “Dylan, they’re normal. The doctor calls them Braxton Hicks contractions. I can have four an hour without getting worried. It’s simply a warm-up for the big event.”
    Stopping in the middle of the living room, he demanded, “Are you sure?”
    “Yes.”
    His heart still thundered. “Just how many of those cramps have you been having?”
    “Not that many.”
    He glanced at her belly. “Carrying a baby is normal, but you don’t have to take it lightly. Cramps matter. Shouldn’t you be counting them? We’ll get a clock in here so you can keep track.”
    Her hand stayed stationary on his shoulder, but her thumb-nail traced back and forth along the seam of his shirt. A bashful half smile flickered across her face. “Honest, Dylan, I’m doing fine. I just saw the doctor day before yesterday.”
    “What did he say?”
    “I’m fine.” She cast a look back toward the kitchen and gave his shoulder a pat. “Your cola’s getting hot.”
    “Do you care?”
    Her eyes widened and mouth fell open. “Why else do you think I keep it in the refrigerator?”
    He slowly bent and put her feet back on the floor. As he completely turned loose of her, he let out a rude snort.
    “What is that