Justin peered into the oven to check the progress of the warming pizza and gently closed the door. Heather smiled at him from her spot on the counter, where she scrolled through the photos of Ellie Mae she had taken with her phone. From the kitchen she could hear the country music he had turned on when they'd arrived and she held her phone out so he could see the photo she liked the best. "If it wouldn't make Donna jealous I'd set that as my wallpaper."

She moistened her lips as his warm hand covered hers to hold the phone still. He chuckled and shook his head. "I can't believe you got a picture of me kissing the baby."

"Come on, it's cute." She closed the photo and set her phone next to her on the counter. "Once it gets around town that you turn all mushy when holding a baby you'll have women lined up to date you."

That thought didn't appeal to her.

Apparently he didn't like it either. "I don't want women lining up to date me."

"Why?" She knew she was flirting and teasing but the look in his eyes was more than worth it. It had been so long since she'd last flirted and she marveled at how easy it was with him.

"Because I'm already dating one woman. And I'm a one-woman guy," he confided.

Her heart fluttered excitedly and she quickly chastised her inner teenager. "An interrupted dinner and a trip to the hospital constitute dating?"

"Well, yeah." His tongue flickered over his lips. "And you already agreed to going out to McDonald's tomorrow."

His hands were on her knees. "That's not a date."

"It will be after Donna goes to sleep," he whispered.

When had he gotten so close? How had she missed the darkening of his eyes? She felt her lips spread into a smile at his suggestion. "I still have the rest of the wine from last night."

"Do you have to get drunk to spend time with me?" His fingers swept over her thighs slowly and she felt her stomach churn with wanting. She firmly ordered her knees to remain pressed together.

"I wasn't drunk last weekend," she whispered. Her traitorous knees parted when he stepped closer and then his breath was on her cheek, his hands on her hips. She heard the soft whisper of her jeans against his and her mouth went dry.

"I know."

"I don't normally do that," she blurted. Her bare feet dangled near his knees but when one hand slid down her thigh to rest at the bend of her knee she rested her foot against the back of his leg.

"Don't normally do what?"

God, she wished he'd kiss her. Each time he spoke he seemed to move closer and there couldn't be but so much space between their lips now. "Make out on a first date," she murmured, lifting her chin expectantly.

"That wasn't making out," he disagreed.

"It wasn't?"

"Nope." Justin brushed his lips over hers and pulled away just as the buzzer went off.

"Then what was it?"

He shrugged and she blatantly watched as he bent to remove the pizza. Her teeth worried her bottom lip and she blushed when he turned to look at her. Sliding off the counter she motioned limply towards the fridge.

"Beers?" she suggested, hating how her voice raised an octave.

"Sure."

She was leaning into the fridge and had completely forgotten the topic of their earlier conversation when he cleared his throat.

"It's not making out unless someone's hand is other the other person's clothing," he announced.

Heather jerked in surprise and banged her head against the bottom of the freezer door. The beers fell to the floor and one hand immediately went to cover the spot and she backed away blindly, clenching her eyes shut to ward away the sudden sting of tears. She could feel a knot beginning to form under her hand and suddenly a string of curses came bubbling from her lips. "Fucking ass of a damn shitty stupid motherfucking goddamn--"

"Whoa," Justin breathed, hands catching her by the waist. He guided her to a chair and she sank down gratefully, trembling at the pain. She risked opening her eyes and was taken aback to find him kneeling in front of her. His eyes were wide with worry and she blinked several times when he tilted her head down to survey the damage. His fingers were gentle against her scalp. They brushed the knot and she winced and felt his whispered apology ruffle the hair at the crown of her head. "I'll get you an icepack."

"I don't need…" she trailed into a sigh. He was already on his feet and heading for the fridge. She watched him pick up the bottles of beer and set them on the counter before opening the freezer. Ice rattled against plastic and she let her eyes close as he moved around the kitchen.

When he returned she felt his hand rest on her thigh and opened one eye to look at it. She realized that for the first time in as long as she could remember she was truly comfortable in a man's presence. There were no worries of what he would think or say if she did something stupid. No tension that she would say the wrong thing and cause an argument. Despite cracking her head and cursing like a sailor there was no embarrassment. Nothing but comfort and that scared her more than anything.

"Why are you so nice to me?" she asked softly when the ice pack was laying against her head. He was holding it and her hands felt useless in her lap.

"What was I supposed to do? Laugh and tell you to bring me my beer?"

"Most men I know would," she mumbled. It was a stupid answer and a generalization of all men but it was true.

"Then you know the wrong men." He shrugged and his hand covered hers.

She sighed, closing her eyes when he leaned close. He squeezed her hands and she finally opened her eyes as his forehead bumped hers. His expression was serious and she noticed for the first time that there was a faint scar just below his eye. She wondered how she had never noticed it before but saw that it was barely visible even from this distance.

"I'm not him, Heather."

"I-I know," she whispered. Otherwise she would have run away long before now.

His hand left hers and she held her breath, finally allowing it to rush out when his fingers lightly brushed her hair back.

"Do you?" he murmured after a moment.

- - -

"Why are you home so early?"

Heather winced at the accusatory tone in Liz's voice and sidled away so she could set her purse down. "Did you expect me to stay out all night?"

Liz's snort was more than enough of an answer. Heather glanced around and saw that Timmy was fast asleep on a pallet of blankets in the floor. Zachary snoozed peacefully on the loveseat. She headed down the hall and peered into Donna's room. The children - or Liz - had obviously picked up because nothing was on the floor but a couple of stuffed animals. Aware that Liz was standing nearby she slipped into the room and went through her usual nighttime routine, tucking the blanket securely around her daughter and making sure that Toots the purple bunny was in his place. She whispered her prayer and pressed a soft kiss to Donna's cheek before going back to the living room.

"So, why are you home so early?" Liz asked again as she flopped onto the couch.

Heather drew a throw pillow into her lap and sighed. "Trace's wife had the baby tonight."

"Awe… Girl or boy?"

"Girl." Heather smiled slightly. "Ellie Mae."

"Jen does love some Beverly Hillbillies," Liz noted as she settled at the other end of the couch. "How was dinner?"

"Interrupted by the birth of Ellie Mae." Heather briefly explained what happened, noting her fear that the baby would come in the backseat of the car and ending with eating warmed-up pizza in Justin's living room.

"And he just brought you home?"

"Yeah." Heather hugged the pillow and smiled when she smelled Justin's light cologne against her shirt. She glanced slyly at Liz. "You look disappointed."

"I guess I was hoping to hear tales of wild sex in the back of his truck on the way over--"

"Liz!" Heather hissed.

"What? Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

"That doesn't mean I… I'm not getting into this conversation." Heather looked to the phone. "Did anyone call?"

"Not since you called to check on the kids earlier."

"Did you have any trouble getting Donna down?"

"Lord no. The girl conked out in the middle of Bee Movie."

"Was she good?"

"As gold."

Heather nodded and watched as Liz got up and began gathering her things. "Liz?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't have to go home… It's late and the kids are asleep and I don't want you to have to wake them up and then…" Heather sighed again. "What do you say to some wine and whatever's on TV?"

"Are you sure?"

"I don't want to be alone tonight…"

"I'll get the wine," Liz provided softly.

- - -

The wine was gone and Heather was morbidly fascinated with Liz's explanation of the true-crime show that was on. Her head felt fuzzy and too heavy to hold up so she kept it propped on the armrest, lips curling in disgust. "He actually peeled the skin off?"

Liz nodded. "He made a bodysuit for himself. He said he wanted to become his mother."

Heather shuddered at the notion and glanced back at the TV. "That is so gross…"

"Didn't you ever watch Silence of the Lambs?"

"Are you kidding? I had to leave the room halfway through Psycho."

"That was based on this guy," Liz announced.

"God, change it or I'll have nightmares," Heather groaned. She pulled the pillow over her face and kept it there until she heard the canned laughter of a sitcom. "Golden Girls?"

"I think it's the pilot one…"

Heather allowed the pillow to fall away and she and Liz sat in silence until a commercial break. Then, sitting up suddenly, she eyed her new friend with horror. "What did he do with his bits and pieces when he was wearing the bodysuit?!"

Liz smothered a laugh with her hands, shaking her head as she gathered the empty bottle and glasses. "I think it's time we had some coffee."

"May as well, it's almost time to get up." It was getting close to seven. Heather settled back on the couch and tried to focus when the show came back on. Instead, her thoughts meandered back to the moments of idle conversation on Justin's sofa.

His tender kisses. Just remembering them made her shiver and if she closed her eyes she could still feel his lips against her skin. And when she pulled the pillow into her arms she felt his arms around her. Heard his soft voice.

"I want to take things slow."

Slow. She knew he was right; had wanted to voice her inclination to do the same. But it seemed so hypocritical when he said that and then held her close for long moments, stealing her breath with more kisses. Her mind had screamed at her to pull away even as her body had begged for more and it had taken all her willpower to stop herself.

She smiled to herself, thinking of the quiet moments while his stereo had changed CDs. The jarring sounds of Kid Rock had managed to take her mind off the possibility of asking that he not take things quite so slow. His mumbled curses and the coldness of his arms leaving her made her hug the pillow tighter.

There had been an awkward moment when he'd walked her to the door. Even in the moonlight she had seen his blush when she'd reminded him that he had kissed her before getting out of the truck. But that hadn't stopped them from sharing another. And the memory of his soft promise to call her in the morning had her smiling.

- - -

"Do you happen to know where Trace put the folder of papers from the hospital?" Jen questioned in a loud whisper as she shuffled into the living room.

"You don't have to whisper. She's awake," Justin informed, nodding to the peaceful infant settled against his legs. He had been stretched out on the couch when Ellie Mae had begun fussing in her bassinet. Considering Trace had gone to the store and Jen had been asleep it had fallen on Justin to take care of her needs. Blessedly her only need had been the fixing of a twisted diaper and the reconfiguration of her blanket but Justin found he enjoyed the quiet moments with her. There was something calming about holding a newborn.

"How is she?"

"She's fine. How you feeling?"

"I still feel like Trace slammed into me with his patrol car going a hundred miles an hour. Every time I sit down or stand up I'm reminded of my mother's warnings about unprotected sex. And despite every home remedy that other mothers have so wonderfully given my breasts are hard as rocks and won't stop leaking."

Justin paled at her descriptive terms and turned his attention back to Ellie Mae. "Your Mommy has this problem where she shares too much information…"

"Where's Trace?" Jen demanded with a roll of her eyes.

"Went to the store to get some juice and diaper wipes." Justin carefully sat up and felt his heart lurch when Ellie Mae slid the opposite way his legs went. Clutching her to his chest he scowled when Jen began to chuckle.

"I seriously hope you're not so neurotic when you have kids," she decided, gingerly sinking onto the couch. "Why did he go get diaper wipes? We had four boxes…"

"Oh, God, you were asleep then. She had this really nasty diaper. It was like tar…" Justin shuddered at the memory. "It took three boxes to clean it all up and then we had to get it off the sofa cushion--"

"Have you two never heard of a freaking washcloth and warm water?" Jen scoffed, reaching to take her daughter into her arms. "My poor sweetheart. Don't worry. Next time Mommy will make sure to leave someone competent to take care of you."

"We got her clean," Justin defended. His arms felt empty once the baby was gone and he stood to shake the feeling away. "We could have left her stinking for you to deal with."

"Stinky diapers are Daddy's job, aren't they Ellie Mae?"

"What did he ever do to you?" Justin muttered. Feeling useless now that Jen was there to entertain Ellie Mae, he strolled around and gathered the scattered baby items from the floor. A rattle that had fallen from the bassinet and a stack of diapers that had been knocked off the coffee table. A soft pink blanket that his mother had knitted for the new arrival. A stuffed kangaroo… "Hey, Jen."

"Hmm?" Jen glanced up.

"It's Mr. Jackrabbit," he announced, holding out the kangaroo. "Y'think Granny would come out and box him?"

He yelped a curse when her foot shot out and kicked the stuffed kangaroo from his grasp. "Ain't funny, Jen! That's one of Ellie Mae's critters! You keep that up and I'll be forced to take away your cement swimmin' pond!"

"How long are you going to keep up with the Beverly Hillbillies jokes?" Jen growled.

"How long are you going to call her Ellie Mae?"

"You are so immature." Jen slowly got to her feet and cooed at her daughter as she moved to the bassinet. "You lay down here and when Mommy gets out of the shower it'll be time for you to eat, okay?"

Justin winced as the front door suddenly slammed shut, echoing throughout the house and causing the knickknacks on the mantle to shake warningly. Instantly Ellie Mae began to fuss and Jen turned a deadly glare to her husband, who strolled by on his way to the kitchen whistling a jaunty tune.

"Have you forgotten that we have a baby in the house?!" she shrieked, going after him. Justin turned to the bassinet and scooped the crying baby into his arms, following the bickering parents into the kitchen.

"I'm telling you, she needs to get used to noises and interruptions," Trace was defending as he shoved canisters of frozen juice into the freezer.

"And I'm saying that you can't just storm in here like the hounds of hell are on your heels!"

"Guys…" Justin attempted to get their attention, wrinkling his nose when Ellie Mae began to suck on his shoulder.

"You act like I came barging in shooting--"

"You could have shut the door like a human being--"

"Guys." Justin raised his voice slightly, transferring Ellie Mae into the crook of his arm and offering his finger as a pacifier.

"Our poor little baby is in there frightened to death and--"

"You can't talk, you ain't in there! You're in here bitching me out!"

"Guys!" Justin hissed before Jen could offer a retort. "Seriously can't you two stop bitching long enough to take care of your baby? I have a date to get ready for and she's messed up two of my shirts today."

"I'm sure Heather won't mind if you show up shirtless, Justin," Jen offered with a sweet smile as she took her daughter again.

"Funny," Justin deadpanned. "Some of my shirts are still here aren't they?"

"Yeah, in the laundry room… I'm going to feed the baby," she cooed, leaning to kiss her husband's cheek before heading out of the room.

Trace eyed Justin warily until they heard the bedroom door click shut. "And I thought the fucking hormones were bad before…"

"You did scare the baby, dude…"

"I'll make up for it later," Trace sighed, stacking wipes on the counter. "So where are you taking Heather tonight?"

"We're taking Donna to McDonald's and then driving to Fairview to catch the latest Disney movie." Justin glanced into the laundry room and saw a basket of clean clothes. Was that his t-shirt at the bottom?

"Then what?"

"Then I take them home," Justin supplied, digging through the clothes until he came across one of his shirts. It was slightly wrinkled and he sighed, moving to throw it into the dryer.

"Have you hit it yet?"

Justin whirled around at the question and found Trace leaning against the island counter with a grin. "Excuse me?"

"Have you hit it?"

"You have got to be kidding--"

"Don't fucking start that holier-than-thou bullshit. You asked me the same question when I started dating Jen," Trace reminded him.

"That was different." Justin turned and started the dryer. Mostly to keep Trace from seeing the horror that he knew was evident on his face and partly to keep from slinging a fist into his best friend's smirk.

"Whatever, dude. You didn't have problems with Ellie while I was gone, did you?"

Justin nearly thanked him for the change in topic. Taking a deep breath he turned back into the kitchen. "Nah. She's a really good baby."

"Yeah…" Trace slid onto a barstool and began flipping through a stack of mail. "Y'know, Lynn's right. It's past time you settle down and have a family of your own."

"Why would I do that when I've got Ellie Mae to spoil rotten?" Justin asked in confusion. "And when did you and Momma start talking about me behind my back?"

"Chill, man. I just saw her at the store and showed her some baby pictures and she started saying how much she wishes you'd give her a grandchild to spoil..."

Justin sighed and leaned against the counter. "I don't need to settle down."

"And I may have casually mentioned that you've got a ready-made family as it is," Trace continued, ripping open an envelope.

"What are you talking about now? If this is about me taking your place when you die, I was kidding. Me and Jen aren't compatible--"

"I'm talking about Heather and Donna, numb-nuts."

Justin's eyes widened. "What? You talked to Momma about Heather and Donna? Since when do you have the right to go around talking about my private life? With my mother for crying out loud?"

"You've done nothing but talk about them since you met them," Trace defended, scowling as he read over a bill.

"Well it's not like we're going to get married tomorrow. Jesus, Trace--"

"Girls like her don't come along every day and you know it." Trace set aside the bill and reached for the next. "If you keep pussyfooting around she'll leave."

"I've known her for a week, Trace. A week," he emphasized. This was beyond crazy. Of all people he had never suspected Trace would start playing the 'you need to settle down' card. Especially when he considered the fact that his friend hadn't gotten around to marrying Jen until she was six months pregnant.

"Dude. Chill," Trace muttered. Setting the mail aside he turned and Justin felt his stomach churn. "When are you gonna realize that not all women are psychotic bitches like Miranda?"