Read Online Miracle Baby (Harlequin American Romance) by Laura Bradford - Free Book Online Page A

of her standing on his front step—her long brown hair cascading over her shoulders in soft waves, the sensual curve of her lips, her dark brown eyes glistening in the glow of the porch light as they looked shyly back at him….
    Oh man, he was in trouble.
    â€œMaggie…you made it.” He stepped to the side and motioned her in. “Any problem with the directions?”
    â€œNo. They were great but—” Two steps into the hall, she stopped and peered up at him with a look he’d bet good money didn’t bode well for their evening. “I wanted to bring something—a pie or a cake. But the bakery closed at five. I’m sorry.”
    He felt the sudden tension in his shoulders ease. “That’s okay. It would have only delayed your arrival, and I already made dessert.”
    Following her gaze down to her gloved hands, he knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet. Being here was tough on her. He could see it in the way she slid the tiny diamond pendant back and forth along the gold chain she wore, could sense it in the way she looked at her feet again and again.
    â€œThat’s a beautiful necklace, Maggie.”
    Startled, she looked up, a flash of pain crackling across her face.
    Uh-oh.
    â€œCan I take your coat?” he asked quickly as he met her wary eyes with what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “I made a fire and things are getting mighty toasty around here.”
    â€œI’m not sure if I should really—”
    â€œOhhh, I almost forgot. C’mon with me for a second. I want you to see how it looks on my tree.” Tucking her arm in his, he set off in the direction of the hearth room. If he didn’t act fast, she was going to leave. That much he could figure out.
    He also knew he didn’t want her to leave. Not yet, anyway. Not until they had a chance to spend some more time together. The key, though, was finding something that would make her relax, make her want to stay.
    â€œHow what looks?” she asked, her words morphing into a whisper as he pulled her through the archway and stopped in front of the tree. “Oh, Rory, it’s lovely—the tree, the ornaments, all of it.”
    He beamed. “I think so, too.”
    And suddenly the ice was broken. Whatever reluctance or hesitation or second-guessing he’d sensed upon her arrival was gone.
    Slowly, she made her way around the tree, reaching out from time to time to examine a particular ornament, each move she made captivating him more.
    Maggie looked different somehow. Her face seemed softer, more relaxed. And her eyes—those large brown, doelike eyes that had drifted in and out of his thoughts all day—actually held a hint of a sparkle.
    â€œWhat’s this one?” she asked, brushing a gentle finger across a homemade snowflake that resembled a star. “Did you make it?”
    â€œI sure did. In Mrs. Trantini’s kindergarten classroom. It was a present for my mom.”
    Maggie looked from the ornament to him, his body tightening in response. “Why do you have it then?”
    Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he shrugged. “It was one of the ones I claimed after she passed away.”
    Maggie looked back at the tree. “Doesn’t that make it hard? Seeing it hanging on your tree…reminding you of a time that’s forever gone?”
    â€œBut it’s not gone,” he insisted. “Seeing it there, hanging on my tree, helps me remember. And I do. I remember how long it took to cut all the holes just right. I remember how I searched all over the house for the perfect gift box so it wouldn’t accidentally rip when my mom unwrapped it on Christmas morning. I remember the way her eyes glistened when she opened it. And I remember how she insisted on hanging it at the front of the tree each year from then on…like it was some sort of priceless keepsake.”
    â€œBut hanging it now on your own tree, when you’re by