Catch’s long legs were stretched on the coffee table. His eyes flicked over me.
Yep, still sexy with that lazy slouch he’d perfected, the always mussed brown hair, the twist of indifference on his lips. In concert with his perpetually creased forehead and the opaqueness of his small brown eyes, he could aim a what-the-fuck look at you without any effort at all.
Yep, still relieved to be away from him.
Plastic smile. “Hey. This is a surprise.”
His lax expression turned positively acidic, and my pulse sprinted.
Is there something I should be worried about?
Catch rose up from the sofa, his height filling the room, and I stepped back as he approached us. He bent over the stroller.
“There you are, cutie.” Snap click went the seat belt. “Daddy’s here. Look at you, baby girl.” He held her in the crook of his arm and planted kisses on her nose, her cheeks. Slowly, I let go of my pent-up breath.
“I’m sorry. Did I miss your call?” I asked.
“No,” he replied, his eyes glued on his daughter, who studied his face, a finger in her mouth.
I glanced at Rae. Her hands were flexed stiffly in her lap.
I should have been pleased that he’d come, unannounced or not. This was what I’d wanted, wasn’t it? Becca’s dad to see her, Rae to reconnect with her son.
“This is a nice surprise, huh, sweets?” I patted my daughter’s back. “Would you like some coffee? There’s plum cobbler. Rae showed me how to make her recipe this morning. There’s ice cream, too. Have you had dinner yet?”
“We have chicken pot pie from yesterday,” Rae added.
He ignored us, and turning away from me, carried Becca to the couch.
My scalp prickled. “Well…I need to get Becca her fruit and yogurt. Rae, do you need anything?”
“Just bring me the yogurt. I’ll feed her,” said Rae, her eyes on her son and granddaughter.
“Okay.” I ducked into the kitchen.
I got out the organic vanilla yogurt and an apple and a pear from the refrigerator. I washed my hands, cleaned the fruit, chopped it up, and tossed it into the small food processor. My limbs functioned on automatic. I was a robot performing its tasks.
I guess a ladies’ only evening of me and Rae watching that Magic Mike DVD that I’d rented for us this afternoon was now out. I’d been looking forward to a laugh and a mindless couple of hours.
I pressed the button on the food processor again to make the fruit pieces smoother, its sharp buzzing noise drilling into me.
He was being strange. I knew him too well. He usually joked and made small talk. My stomach did flip-flops as I mixed the fruit cream with the yogurt. I scooped it into Becca’s bowl, grabbed her spoon, several napkins, and her bib, and I flew back into the lion’s den.
“Here we go.” I set the bowl on the small round table at Rae’s side.
Rae wiped her hands with an antibacterial wipe. “Drew, could you bring her high chair from the kitchen?”
“I’ll take her,” I murmured, approaching Catch.
His dark eyes settled on me as I took Becca from his arms. He tracked into the kitchen, and I shot Rae a questioning look. But what was I expecting? She was his mother. She had to be thrilled to see him.
Rae’s lips pressed together, and her eyebrows quirked. Ah, Rae was not feeling the love either. Somehow knowing that she was as suspicious as I was only knotted my stomach tighter.
Catch returned with the high chair and set it at his mother’s side.
I slid Becca into the seat and fastened her belt. “There we go. Time for fruity tootie!”
“Apple, Mommy.” Becca smacked her lips together, her little fists banging on her tabletop.
“Yes, honey, an apple is in there,” I said.
Catch and I stood side by side like awkward preteens at a school dance as Rae fed Becca.
“Drew, get something to eat, son. You cannot come for a visit and not let me feed you.”
“I could eat. The cobbler sounds good. Haven’t had anything like that in a long time.”
Becca’s tongue lapped at the yogurt on her face.
I went into the kitchen, and Catch followed me.
“I’ll microwave it for you. With the ice cream, it’s better warm,” I said.
He only nodded.
“It’s good to see you.” I grabbed the cobbler from the fridge.
“Is it?”
Not really, but what the hell do you want me to say?
“Of course,” I replied. “What a great surprise for your mom and Becca.” I shoved the plate of cobbler in the microwave and tapped at the keypad.
He leaned back against the counter, his gaze wandering around the kitchen. “Bad surprise for you?”
“What? No. I’m glad you came.”
“Where’s Tania at?”
“She’s out of town, chasing a lead on some antiques just over the border in Wyoming.”
“She hanging out at the Jacks’?”
I took out the carton of vanilla ice cream from the freezer. “She spends time with Grace. Tania’s been helping her out with a project over there, going through some stuff they’ve had in storage for a while.”