Terms of Surrender by Sheila Seabrook Page B

her feet so fast, she hit the pail beside her with her knee. Water sloshed over the edge and onto the floor, and dismay colored her pale cheeks.
    Gage stepped over the water, grabbed the tea towel from the countertop, and crouched down on the floor.
    “The twins spilled their iced tea.” She knelt down, the washrag in hand, and sighed. “I’m sorry I have to impose on your hospitality for another night.”
    He slanted a look her way. “For the hundredth time, there’s no need to apologize.”
    “Still, I’m in the—”
    “Don’t say it.” Without getting off his knees, he straightened and wrung the towel out over the sink. “Think of yourself as a necessary part of tonight’s activities. You’re doing your part to give Mike a break from the girls, and by staying here, saving us the necessity of finding a babysitter.”
    “I suppose.” Her attention returned to the spill. She squeezed out the rag and as she stretched out to wipe up the water, the t-shirt slid up her thigh a couple more inches.
    Gage frowned down at her bare legs. “Don’t you have anything else to wear?”
    She sat back on her haunches and shook her head. “Sara is bringing me some of Jessie’s clothes.”
    “Sara?”
    “Jessie and Nate Coltrane’s daughter.”
    “Right. Nice kid. I met her at their wedding.” As he returned his attention to the water, curiosity got the best of him. “She looked pregnant.”
    With another sigh, Harley sloshed the rag across the floor. “It’s my fault.”
    A surprised laugh escaped him. “You got her pregnant?”
    “The father of Sara’s baby is my nephew, Hale Davis.” She scowled down at the floor, sopped up some more water, and gave the rag an extra hard twist over the pail. “The little brat got her pregnant and skipped town.”
    As he wiped up the last of the water and picked up the pail to dump it in the sink, he felt a smile tug at the edges of his mouth. “Do I detect a little anger?”
    “If I ever get my hands on him, I’ll show him how angry I am.” She pushed to her feet and followed him to the sink where she leaned one hip against the edge of the counter, and watched him dump the pail and dry it out. “I don’t get it, though. Every month, he sends money for the baby.”
    He bent, tucked the pail back under the sink, and spread out the tea towel to dry. “A man should take responsibility for his mistakes.”
    “And every month, Sara tears up the check.” She shook her head and as she pushed away from the counter, her hair brushed her shoulders, and Gage struggled against the urge to touch her. “She’s coming over to help with the twins. I hope that’s okay with you.”
    Gage shrugged. “As long as you’re staying here, make yourself at home.”
    “Thanks.” The annoyed expression morphed into seriousness. “So should I make myself scarce when you get home?”
    In a heartbeat, Gage switched mental gears because he knew exactly what she was talking about.
    A beer or three, and she thought he’d be coming home to her. Under the influence of alcohol. Possibly more dangerous than anyone she’d ever met. While fear cramped his gut, he followed her into the living room and kept his tone light. “I’m the designated driver tonight.”
    She stopped in the middle of the room. Her gaze skittered to his face, then bounced toward the front door. “I should probably clear out for the night, maybe take the twins back home…or you know, somewhere else. If you like to, uh, make noise, it might, you know, get embarrassing.”
    Noise? Confused, he studied the rosy blush on her cheeks, the nervous way she chewed her full bottom lip. She looked more embarrassed than afraid. “Could you be more specific?”
    Hands clenching the material of the t-shirt, drawing it slowly up her thighs into dangerous territory, her embarrassment morphed into annoyance. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”
    “It would probably be simpler if you did.” The doorbell rang, followed by pounding