Quade's Babies - Brenda Jackson [13]
She found her voice, yet it was shaky when she asked. “Who is it?”
“Quade.”
She sagged against the door as a gush of shocked breath rushed from her lungs. Why was he here? Had he somehow found out about her babies?
“Cheyenne, I need to talk to you.”
His voice was just as she remembered; ultra husky and as sexy as any man’s voice had a right to be. Knowing she couldn’t keep him standing outside forever, she garnered as much strength as she could and slowly began twisting the doorknob while asking herself how she would handle seeing him again when the mere thought of the man sent lust ripping through her body.
The door opened and she immediately met his gaze, finding it hard to believe that this wasn’t a dream and he was actually here, standing on her doorstep—in the flesh. The air surrounding them suddenly became charged—just as it had that night. And she couldn’t help noticing that also just like that night, his body was molded into a pair of faded jeans and a pullover shirt. Both oozed a degree of sexuality that warmed her skin and created an intense yearning within her. The man was as darkly handsome as she remembered. Even more so.
To make matters worse, he was staring at her the same way he had that night on the beach and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to recognize that look of blatant desire in his eyes. Like before, he was getting to her without very much effort and she fought back the urge to reach out and touch him, while convincing herself that her hormones were out of whack and making her crave something she really didn’t want and definitely something she didn’t need.
Inhaling deeply she tried to relax, fight off the shock of seeing him. She was determined to find out why he was there while refusing to consider that somehow he had found out about the triplets.
“Quade? I don’t understand why you’re here,” she heard herself say. “I didn’t expect to ever see you again.”
He continued to look at her. “I didn’t expect to ever see you again, either,” he said softly, yet in a masculine tone. “But I saw you on the cover of a magazine. And you were pregnant.”
She nervously licked her lips, having an idea where this conversation was headed. A part of her regretted that she had allowed Roz to talk her into doing that magazine cover. And what on earth was he doing looking at an issue of Pregnancy magazine?
“I want to know one thing.”
Cheyenne sensed what he wanted to know but asked the question anyway, preferring not to make assumptions. “What do you want to know?”
“Did you have my baby?”
Three
Q uade felt his insides tighten, not knowing what Cheyenne’s response would be, not even sure from the way she was looking at him if she would even give him one. The trouble was, he didn’t plan on leaving until she did.
Until now he’d never given any thought to being a father. In fact, a wife and kids weren’t on his list of goals he’d wanted to achieve in life. There seemed to be enough of his brothers and cousins doing a pretty damn good job of being productive and replenishing the earth with more Westmorelands, for him to be needed in that role. However, if he was the father of her child, then he would take full responsibility, and the sooner she knew it the better.
“Westmorelands take full responsibility for their actions,” he said, as if that explained everything. He tried to downplay the stirrings in his groin that had started the moment she had opened the door. And when she lifted perfectly arched eyebrows the stirrings increased.
“Westmoreland? Is that your last name?” she asked.
He studied her to see what about her was different from that night. She looked a lot younger than twenty-eight and the color of her eyes seemed darker than he recalled. But her lips, full and enticing, were just as luscious as he remembered. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that stretched across firm breasts. Her waistline looked small, not indicative of a