Seasons in Love

COLLECTION

July 2019

One Summer inNew York

November 2019

One Autumn Proposal

January 2020

One WinterWedding

March 2020

One Spring Baby

About the Authors

Author of more than 100 titles for Mills & Boon, native Arkansan GINA WILKINS was introduced early to romance novels by her avid-reader mother. Gina loves sharing her own stories with readers who enjoy books celebrating families and romance. She is inspired daily by her husband of over thirty years, their two daughters and their son, their librarian son-in-law who fit perfectly into this fiction-loving family, and an adorable grandson who already loves books.

RAYE MORGAN has been a nursery-school teacher, a travel agent, a clerk and a business editor, but her best job ever has been writing romances – and fostering romance in her own family at the same time. Current score: two boys married, two more to go. Raye has published more than seventy romances, and claims to have many more waiting in the wings. She lives on the Central California Coast with her husband.

ABIGAIL GORDON loves to write about the fascinating combination of medicine and romance from her home in a Cheshire village. She is active in local affairs, and is even called upon to write the script for the annual village pantomime! Her eldest son is a hospital manager, and helps with all her medical research. As part of a close-knit family, she treasures having two of her sons living close by and the third one not too far away. This also gives her the added pleasure of being able to watch her delightful grandchildren growing up.

One Spring Baby

The Bachelor’s Little Bonus

Gina Wilkins

Keeping Her Baby’s Secret

Raye Morgan

A Baby for the Village Doctor

Abigail Gordon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90679-5

ONE SPRING BABY

The Bachelor’s Little Bonus © 2016 Gina Wilkins Keeping Her Baby’s Secret © 2009 Helen Conrad A Baby for the Village Doctor © 2009 Abigail Gordon

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

The Bachelor’s Little Bonus

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Keeping Her Baby’s Secret

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

A Baby for the Village Doctor

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

About the Publisher

The Bachelor’s Little Bonus

Gina Wilkins

For my family – immediate, extended and

family of the heart. You have all enriched

my life beyond measure!

Chapter One

Returning home from a mundane business trip, Cole McKellar stepped out of a dreary February evening and into a scene from one of his increasingly recurrent fantasies: A pretty blonde asleep on his oversized brown leather sofa.

The sight aroused and disturbed him—the same reaction he usually had to those unbidden daydreams. He squeezed his eyes shut, but when he opened them the blonde in question was still there. What was wrong with him? He shouldn’t be having these feelings about Stevie, especially when she viewed him merely as a neighbor and a friend. And yet...

Illuminated by the lamp on the table nearest her head, she lay on her left side, her hand beneath her cheek, her jeans-covered legs drawn up in front of her. Her shoes were on the floor, leaving her feet exposed in bright red socks that matched her sweater. Golden curls tumbled around her sleep-flushed face, and her soft, full lips were slightly parted. Long lashes lay against her fair cheeks, hiding eyes he knew to be a vivid blue. Notably colorful and feminine in contrast to his muted bachelor decor, she looked young and vulnerable lying there, though he knew Stevie McLane to be a capable and accomplished thirty-one year old, only two years his junior.

Dusty, his little gray tabby, snuggled into the crook of Stevie’s arm. In response to Cole’s arrival, the cat lifted her head and gave him a look as though warning him not to disturb their sleeping guest. He frowned and studied Stevie more closely. Was there a trace of tears on her face? Had she been crying?

Gripping his overnight bag tightly in one hand, his computer case in the other, he shifted his weight uncomfortably, unsure what to do. Should he wake her? Should he let her sleep? He couldn’t just stand here watching her. It was sort of...creepy.

Dusty stood and stretched. Roused by the movement, Stevie blinked her eyes open. Finding Cole standing there, she gasped.

The last thing he’d wanted to do was frighten her. “I’m sorry, Stevie, I—”

“Cole! I didn’t—”

Both stopped talking to let the other speak, then hurried again to fill the awkward silence.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“I thought you—”

Cole held up a hand with a rueful smile when their words overlapped again. “I’ll start. I’m sorry I startled you. I didn’t know you were here. Now your turn.”

On her feet now, his next-door neighbor pushed back her tumbled hair with both hands and smiled up at him. Though just over average height himself, he still felt as though he towered over Stevie, who topped out at about five-two in her red-stockinged feet. “I thought you weren’t going to be home until tomorrow,” she said.

“I rescheduled my flight because of the weather. I didn’t want to get stuck in Dallas for an extra day or two, especially since I have to be in Chicago a few days next week.”

“And now you must be tired.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, you weren’t expecting to find uninvited company in your house.”

She had no idea just what a welcome surprise that had been, nor would he fully enlighten her. When it came to Stevie, he’d gotten pretty good at concealing his feelings during the past year. “Usually when I come home, the house is empty except for Dusty, and she likes to play it cool with her royal greetings. It’s a pleasant change to be welcomed with a smile.”

He’d answered lightly while studying her suspiciously puffy eyelids. Would it be intrusive to mention his impression that she’d been crying? He settled for what he hoped was a vaguely concerned tone. “Is everything okay?”

She wiped nonchalantly at her cheeks, as if smoothing away the effects of sleep rather than any hint of tears. “Oh, sure. It was just too quiet at my house tonight, so Dusty and I were keeping each other company. I guess I fell asleep.”

His cat had climbed on the arm of the couch and now demanded a greeting from him. Cole reached down to rub the tabby’s soft, pointed ears. “Did you give Stevie your sad-eyes act to keep her from leaving after she fed you? I bet you added a few of those pitiful meows you’ve perfected.”

Stevie wrinkled her nose with a little laugh. “I’m pretty sure she even threw in a couple of forlorn sniffles.”

He ran a hand absently down Dusty’s back, stopping to scratch at the base of the tail, a spot that always made his pet arch blissfully. “She’s shameless.”

“Yes, she is,” Stevie agreed, giving the tabby a fond smile.

Cole claimed occasionally that he’d bought the cat with the house. He’d lived here only a couple weeks when a pathetic kitten had appeared on his doorstep out of a winter rainstorm, wet and hungry and miserable. Hearing the meows, he’d opened the door to investigate and the little stray had darted past him into the living room. Other than visits to the vet, she hadn’t been outside since.

He’d planned initially to find a good home for the stray, but somehow she’d ended up staying. He and Dusty, who was named for her habit of emerging from under furniture with dust bunnies on her nose, got along like a couple of contented hermits. Still, it was always a treat for them when Stevie dropped by. Sometimes he thought they were both a little too eager for her visits.

Weren’t cats and computer analysts supposed to be contentedly independent and naturally aloof? He’d wondered more than once what sort of special magic Stevie wielded to enchant them so thoroughly, though he hoped he was a bit more discreet about his fascination with her than his pet. He treasured his unconventional friendship with Stevie too much to risk it with the awkwardness of an unrequited infatuation.

A data analyst for a national medical group, Cole worked primarily from home. He made a few business trips a year for planning and progress meetings, but mostly he communicated with the outside world via computer and smartphone.

His late wife had teasingly accused him of taking introversion to the extreme. But it wasn’t that he disliked people. He was just more comfortable with computers, especially since Natasha’s difficult illness.

It was suddenly very quiet in the room. Pushing thoughts of the painful past from his mind, he cleared his throat and glanced toward the window. “Sounds like the sleet has stopped. Maybe it’s finally changing over to snow. I’d rather have snow than ice.”

Stevie nodded with a bit too much enthusiasm for the banal comments. “No kidding. At least this weather hit on a Friday so most people don’t have to get out for work or school tomorrow. Not that local schools would be open, anyway. You know they close at the first sign of a snowflake. But still, I hope we get enough snow for the kids to build snowmen and have snowball fights. That’s not something they get to do very often around here, so they’ll want to make the most of it. I remember how disappointed I always was when we got all psyched up for snow and had to settle for just a dusting. Still, I hope it’s gone by Monday. I have a couple of meetings I’d really hate to have to put off.”

He chuckled, accustomed to her characteristic, stream-of-consciousness prattling. “Let’s hope there’s enough snow for the kids to enjoy over the weekend but that it melts quickly enough not to cause too many issues for the coming week.”

“That would work.” She smiled, but he had the distinct feeling something was wrong. For one thing, she was twisting a curl tightly around her fingertip, a nervous habit he’d noticed several times during the past few months.

Stevie was one of the most naturally effervescent women he’d ever known, outgoing and optimistic and a little quirky. She’d grown up in the comfortable bungalow on the corner lot next door in Little Rock, Arkansas. She’d been the first to welcome him to the street when he’d bought this house in the midtown neighborhood that was currently undergoing a revival after a decade-long slump. He’d made a tidy profit on the condo he’d sold last year, and he thought he’d do the same with this place if his needs changed again. Even better than that, he’d gained Stevie as a neighbor.

He wondered if it was only the bad weather that had left her free on a Friday night to keep his cat company and doze on his couch. As far as he knew, she hadn’t dated anyone since a breakup some three months ago. When they’d first met, he’d had designs on her, and maybe he’d even had a few fantasies about her since, but he’d never acted on any of them. She’d been involved with the hipster musician, which had made her off-limits. Not that he had a chance with her anyway.

Inherently candid, Stevie had once confessed to him during a rambling conversation that she had a lamentable weakness for footloose artists and musicians, a penchant that had left her soft heart bruised more than once. He’d gotten the message, whether intentional or not on her part. Reclusive computer geeks were not her type romantically, though she seemed pleased to have one among her many pals.

Since she’d split with Joe, she’d been slightly more subdued than usual, but tonight she seemed even more dispirited. Had she been crying because she was lonely? Or—he swallowed hard, very much disliking the other possibility—because she missed the guy who’d caused her so much grief before he’d left town to start a new single life in Texas?

He tried to think of something more to say, but small talk wasn’t his forte. Stevie usually carried their conversations, chattering away while he enjoyed listening and responding when prompted. Yet she never seemed bored by him, another trait that made her so special. Stevie would never yawn and check her watch during dinner with him.

He winced as he remembered the recent blind date he’d been stupid enough to consent to after being nagged by a friend’s wife. He’d been just as disinterested during the evening, but he’d at least had the courtesy to not be so obvious about it. When he wanted to spend time with a woman, he had a few numbers he could call, a couple of women friends who wanted nothing more from him than a few hours of mutual pleasure. He didn’t make those calls often—and even less so during the past couple of months, for some reason.

He didn’t know why his mind had drifted in that direction at the moment, though the thought of dinner gave him inspiration. “Have you eaten?” he asked Stevie. “I’ve been on a plane all afternoon and I’m hungry.”

She hesitated, then smiled a bit more naturally. “No, actually, I haven’t had dinner. I might have even skipped lunch. I don’t remember.”

The admission made him even more convinced that something was troubling her, but he figured she’d tell him when and if she was ready. Maybe over a hot meal.

“I froze portions of that big pot of soup you made for me last week. It’ll take just a few minutes to thaw and heat a couple bowlfuls.”

She smoothed her tousled hair with one hand and nodded. “Sounds good. Just let me wash up and I’ll help you.”

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

Hastily stashing his bags to unpack later, he busied himself preparing the impromptu meal. Had he found the empty house he’d expected when he’d returned, he’d have nuked the soup and eaten in front of the TV with a beer straight from the can. But since he had company, he made more effort, setting the table with placemats and flatware, making sure the bowls weren’t scratched or chipped.

For the most part, he’d learned to be content with his quiet life, so why was he so pleased by the prospect of sharing a simple bowl of soup with Stevie on a bleak, winter evening?

After splashing water on her face in Cole’s guest bathroom, Stevie pressed a hand to her still-flat stomach, drew a deep breath and assured herself she looked reasonably presentable considering she’d just been startled out of a sound sleep. She seemed to be sleepy a lot these days. She hadn’t even heard Cole enter the house.

The thought of him standing there watching her sleep made her pulse flutter. She supposed it was embarrassment at being caught off guard in his living room. He didn’t seem to mind that she’d made herself at home while he was away, but then, she wouldn’t have expected anything different from laid-back Cole.

In the year she’d known him, she’d never seen him rattled. She’d rarely observed any display of strong emotions from him, actually. He was the steadiest, most sensible person she knew, a calming presence in her sometimes hectic life. Maybe that was why she’d instinctively taken refuge in his living room when she’d been sad and stressed, though her cat-sitting duties had made a convenient excuse.

She scrutinized her reflection in the mirror. Had Cole seen the tear stains on her cheeks? She thought maybe he had and felt the heat of embarrassment. Though she wasn’t usually shy about expressing her emotions—even tended to overshare at times—Stephanie “Stevie” McLane liked to think of herself as resilient, feisty and courageous. Not the type to hide in a friend’s house and sniffle into his cat’s soft fur. Still, Cole had merely searched her face with his dark, perceptive eyes, calmly asked if everything was okay, then offered her a hot meal. Somehow he’d seemed to know it was exactly what she’d needed, and not just because she was hungry.

He glanced up with a smile when she joined him in the kitchen. His thick, wavy dark hair was a bit messy, but then it always was. A hint of evening stubble shadowed his firm jaw. His eyes were the color of rich, dark chocolate. She’d always thought those beautiful eyes gleamed with both kindness and intelligence. Broad-shouldered and solidly built, he was not what she would call classically handsome, nor did he have that somewhat ethereal artist quality she’d always been drawn to in the past. He didn’t talk a lot, and he wasn’t prone to sharing his feelings. Still, there was something about Cole that automatically evoked trust and confidence.

She’d liked him from the day he’d moved into this house. There’d been a definite tug of feminine interest, but within her first hour of chatting with him—okay, interrogating him, as he’d humorously referred to that initial conversation—she’d found out he was a computer whiz, a widower and a country music fan who usually listened to news radio in his car. He was practically her total opposite, a stalwart Taurus to her capricious Gemini.

She’d tried to convince herself since then that her latent fascination with him was due more to those intriguing differences than to an underlying attraction she couldn’t entirely deny. Despite being involved in an on-again, off-again relationship with a commitment-phobic musician for most of the time she’d known Cole, she’d have to have been brainless not to notice what a great guy he was. So different from her other male acquaintances, he was an enigma to her in many ways, but still they’d become friends. Maybe they could have become more than friends, had circumstances developed differently. She always enjoyed hanging out with him, and she missed him when he was away.

She had missed his steady, solid presence even more than usual during the past few days.

With old-fashioned courtesy, he held her chair for her as she took her seat at the table. “I don’t have much to offer by way of a beverage,” he said apologetically. “I can make coffee or there’s beer or I can open a bottle of wine...”

“This is fine, thank you,” she said, motioning toward the water glass he’d already filled and set beside her steaming bowl.

To quickly distract herself from her problems, she picked up her spoon and asked, “How was your trip?”

Seated now across the table from her, he grimaced. “Let’s just say it’s a miracle I’m not spending tonight in jail rather than having a nice bowl of soup with you.”

She smiled. “Annoying associates?”

“To quote my late country grandpa, a couple of them were as dumb as a bag of rocks.”

That made her laugh. She always loved it when Cole quoted his “country grandpa,” who had apparently been a treasury of old adages. “Knowing you, I’m sure you were completely polite and patient with them.”

“I don’t know how patient I was, but I tried not to tell them what I really thought. They didn’t even try to pay attention half the time, then complained because they missed a few important points. It gets frustrating. Which is one of the main reasons I prefer telecommuting to pointless meetings and endless deliberations.”

As a busy kitchen designer, Stevie knew all about frustrating collaborations. “Totally understand. There are plenty of times I want to dump a pitcher of ice water over a superpicky client or a lazy subcontractor.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure you’re able to sweet-talk all of them into seeing things your way. That’s a talent I don’t have.”

She had to concede that no one would describe Cole as a “sweet talker.” Or a talker at all, for that matter. Still, when he did speak, he always had something interesting and thoughtful to contribute. She’d consulted him several times about perplexing business issues, and had valued his measured, practical advice.

Biting her lip, she wondered what he would say if she confided her current, very personal predicament. She clenched her fingers in her lap.

Cole cleared his throat. She glanced up to find him studying her face with those too-knowing eyes. “Your food is getting cold,” he said quietly.

Had he sensed somehow that she’d hovered on the verge of another meltdown? Either way, his reminder had been just what she’d needed to bring her back from the edge. Gripping her spoon so tightly her knuckles whitened, she concentrated on the soup and the cheese and crackers he’d served with it. In an attempt to keep him—and maybe herself—diverted, she talked as she ate, babbling away about anything that randomly occurred to her.

Seeming to have little trouble following her rapid changes of topic, Cole finished his meal then pulled a bag of cookies from the pantry for dessert. She declined the offer, finishing her rapidly cooling soup between sentences while he munched a couple of Oreos.

When he finished, he carried his dishes to the sink, sidestepping the cat munching kibble from a bowl on the floor. Stevie helped him clear the table, smiling up at him as they reached at the same time to close the dishwasher door.

“Thank you, Cole.”

“For the soup? Wasn’t any trouble, I just warmed it up. You actually made it.”

She gave him a fondly chiding look. “Not for the soup, though I guess I needed that. Mostly, thanks for the company and conversation. I needed that even more tonight.”

Wiping his hands, he turned to face her with a slight smile on his firm lips. “I didn’t say much.”

“I didn’t give you much chance.”

“Well, no, but I’m used to that.”

She giggled, pleased to feel like laughing now, even at her own expense. She reached up to pat his cheek. “Are you calling me a chatterbox?”

“Just stating facts.” His rare, full grin lit his eyes and carved long dimples around his mouth. Tousled and scruffy after his long day, he looked...well, adorable. His evening beard tickled her palm, and the warmth of his skin tempted her to nestle closer to his solid strength to alleviate her own nervous chill.

A bit unnerved by the impulse, she dropped her hand quickly and laced her fingers together. This was not the time to be distracted by the physical attraction that had always underscored her friendship with Cole, an attraction she’d always assured herself she had very good reasons to keep private.

“You’ve been traveling all day,” she said, rallying her inner defenses and taking a step back. “I’m sure you’re tired. I should go and let you relax.”

“There’s no rush. We could stream a movie or something. I think I have some popcorn.”

Her smile felt a little tremulous. He was being so sweetly concerned about her, even though he hadn’t a clue what was troubling her. He’d probably looked forward to crashing on his couch or bed when he’d returned from his business trip. Instead, he’d found himself preparing dinner for a surprise guest and offering to entertain her even longer in case she was still reluctant to return to her own empty house. Was it any wonder she considered him one of her dearest friends?

“Thanks, Cole, but I think I’ll just turn in early.”

He frowned. “What if your power goes out tonight? With the layer of ice underneath this snow, it’s a definite possibility.”

“I have plenty of blankets to snuggle under, a couple of good flashlights, and a gas stovetop for heating water for tea.”

“Your phone is charged?”

“Almost completely. And I’ll plug it in as soon as I get home.”

He nodded, though he didn’t look entirely reassured.

She slid her hands down her sides in a nervous gesture. “So...”

Just as Cole wasn’t much of a “talker,” he wasn’t much of a “toucher,” either. Casual hugs and pats didn’t come naturally to him, the way they did for her. He never seemed to mind being on the receiving end, though he’d once teased her about patting his cat goodnight, then doing the same to him as she’d prepared to leave.

So, it surprised her a little when he rested a hand on her shoulder as he gazed somberly into her eyes. “You know, Stevie, I’m not much of a conversationalist, but you’ve told me more than once that I’m a very good listener. And I’m your friend. If there’s anything at all I can do for you, I hope you’d feel comfortable telling me.”

Though she tried to hold on to her composure, all it took was a slight squeeze of his fingers to make her eyes fill with tears. To her consternation, sobs burst from her chest as an overtaxed emotional dam finally gave way, and there seemed to be nothing she could do to stop them.

After only a heartbeat’s hesitation, Cole stepped forward and gathered her into his arms. He patted her back somewhat awkwardly, a bewildered male response that only made her cry harder.

“Stevie, tell me. What’s wrong?”

“I’m—” She choked, then blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”

Cole’s hand froze in midpat. Of all the answers he had imagined, that was the lowest on his list.

Her voice muffled by his shoulder, she spoke in a flood of jumbled words interspersed with gulping sobs. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I haven’t told anyone, not even my best friends. This has been building up for weeks, ever since I first suspected I was pregnant, but I didn’t want to even think about it. I tried to believe it was just stress or miscalculation, but it’s real, and now I’m almost three months along. Joe moved to Austin and I’m pretty sure he has another girlfriend there already. He said he doesn’t want a kid and he’d be a terrible father, anyway. I’m not even brokenhearted about the breakup because it wasn’t working out and neither of us was really happy. Still, my brother and I grew up without our fathers and I always said I’d never do that to a child and I can’t believe I was so stupid at my age. I’ll do my best to give my baby a happy childhood. I mean, I turned out okay, right? But the weather was terrible tonight and I was home all alone and I just wanted company, even if it was only your cat,” she finished in a soft wail.

He followed the tangled monologue, but just barely. It was a lot of information to digest in a very short amount of time. Fortunately, interpreting massive amounts of data was what he did every day. Stevie was three months pregnant. Joe was out of the picture. Stevie planned to raise the child alone. And she was obviously scared spitless.

Because a calm tone usually trumped overwrought emotion, he asked, “Have you seen a doctor?”

She nodded into his shoulder. “Twice.”

“Are you okay? Healthy?”

Her sniffles slowed and she bobbed her head again. “Both of us are.”

Both. He swallowed at the reminder that he wasn’t holding just Stevie. He couldn’t think of anything reassuring to say, so he fell back on practicality. Reaching around her, he snagged a paper towel from the counter and offered it to her. “I don’t have a clean handkerchief on me, but maybe you could make use of this?”

His prosaic offer seemed to jolt her out of her meltdown. She made what appeared to be a heroic attempt to get her emotions under control. When she raised her head slowly to look at him, her wet, vivid blue eyes looked huge against her pale skin. She clutched his shirt in both fists as though anchoring herself in a whirlwind. Drawing a deep, unsteady breath, she relaxed her grip, carefully smoothed his crumpled shirt and stepped out of his arms. He hovered close. She still looked fragile enough to collapse at his feet.

“I, um—” It seemed to annoy her that her words were interrupted by a little catch of her breath. She cleared her throat and said, “I’m sorry I fell apart on you. The words just started flooding out and I couldn’t stop them.”

“You needed to unload,” he said simply.

“I guess you’re right,” she said after a few moments. “Like I said, I haven’t told anyone except Joe and my doctor. I just... I didn’t know what to say.”

“Keeping it to yourself for so long had to have been hard for you.” It must have been especially difficult for naturally forthcoming Stevie.

Wiping her cheeks with the paper towel, she nodded. “Especially with Jenny and Tess. They’re my best friends and we tell each other everything. Or we always have until now. But Tess is busy planning her wedding and Jenny and Gavin have been trying to get pregnant ever since they got married. How can I tell her that I accidentally got knocked up by a guy she never really liked all that much, anyway?”

He filled a glass with water and handed it to her without comment. She accepted it with a nod of thanks and took a few sips. He was relieved to note that the color was returning to her face, that her hand was steadier when she set the glass on the counter.

She drew a deep, unsteady breath before speaking again. “It was after Christmas when I first suspected I was pregnant, but another couple of weeks before I let myself believe it.”

“Had to have been a shock to you.” It had certainly stunned him.

“To say the least. I felt obligated to call Joe, but he made it clear he won’t be involved, so I’m on my own, which is fine with me since I’m not interested in seeing him again. I mean, yeah, it was irresponsible of me, but I’m thirty-one, you know? I’ll be thirty-two in May. I’ve always thought I’d have a baby someday, and this could be my best chance. I’ve completely sworn off stupid fairy-tale fantasies for the future. It’s taken me way too long and too many heartaches to figure out that I have not a shred of good judgment when it comes to romance. I’ve always been drawn to the guys who are the least likely to settle down, and I’ve always ended up on the losing end. No more. I’ll figure out a way to raise this child on my own. Sure, it’ll be tough making my schedule work out for the next few months and budgeting my savings to tide us over during the time I’ll have to take off for maternity leave. I mean, my business is still pretty new and this is like the worst time to try to juggle contracts and finances and time off, but somehow I’ll—”

“More water?” He motioned toward the glass as her nervous babbling threatened to lead to tears again. It was obvious she was on to him.

Drawing in another long breath, she smiled a bit wryly as she shook her head. Dusty wound around her ankles and she reached down to give the cat an absent stroke before straightening to speak more calmly again. “So, here I am. Single and pregnant, just like my mother was twice in two years with my brother and then me. I haven’t been sick a day and my doctor says I’m very healthy and so is the baby. I guess hormones just got the best of me tonight. I’ll be fine, really.”

“I have no doubt of it,” he said. “You’ll be a good mother.”

She moistened her lips. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” She should know by now that he didn’t say things he didn’t mean.

Her smile was sweetly tremulous. “Thank you, Cole. For the dinner, for letting me cry all over you, for being such a good friend. And now I really am going to leave so you can rest.”

A good friend. He could be that for her.

He wasn’t entirely sure she should be alone in her agitated mood, but he figured she would decline if he tried again to detain her. So he merely nodded and said, “I’ll walk you home.”

Tossing the crumpled paper towel into the trash, she glanced over her shoulder with a lifted eyebrow. “Since when do you need to walk me next door?”

“Since there’s ice all over the walkway and you’re pregnant,” he replied bluntly. “I want to make sure you don’t fall.”

“It’s not necessary, but I can see you’re going to insist.” Her smile looked a bit more natural now, though still not the high-wattage grin he associated with her.

With a faint smile in return, he nodded. “You’re right. I am.”

Minutes later, bundled into their coats, they walked out into what amounted to an Arkansas blizzard. Snow fell so hard he could hardly see Stevie’s white house on the big corner lot next door. The ground was already covered and no cars drove down the street, most of the locals having taken the advice of forecasters and burrowed safely into their homes for the night.

It wouldn’t stay this peaceful, of course. He’d bet the generally well-behaved but exuberant Bristol kids across the street would be out playing in the snow as soon as their mom gave them permission. Snow days were always a rare treat around here, even though they proved a headache for road crews and first responders.

He kept his gaze trained on Stevie as they stepped off his porch. Her disposition changed the moment they moved out into the winter storm. She couldn’t seem to resist turning her face up to let the snow fall against her cheeks. The security lamps above them provided just enough light for Cole to see the white flakes glittering on her skin and in her golden curls. With her signature musical laugh, she held out her arms and turned in a little circle, her shoes crunching on the thin layer of ice beneath the accumulating snow. Bemused by her mercurial mood shifts, and well aware they had more to do with her unique personality than to fluctuating hormones, he chuckled and caught her arm to make sure she didn’t fall.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked with a sigh, wrapping her hands around his arm and smiling companionably up at him.

“Very.”

Her lashes fluttered, though he wasn’t sure whether that was due to the snow or his husky tone. He cleared his throat. He must be more tired than he’d realized, or more shaken than he’d have expected by Stevie’s bombshell. Whatever the reason, he found himself wanting to prolong this cozy walk in the snowy night with Stevie tucked close to his side, breath clouds mingling and drifting in the air in front of them. For the second time in just over an hour, he felt almost as if he’d stepped into one of his private fantasies. He was glad mind reading wasn’t among Stevie McLane’s many talents. He wasn’t sure how she’d react to knowing that just watching her catching a snowflake on her tongue sent his imagination down a path much more hazardous than the one on which they walked.

Burying those uncomfortable thoughts deep inside his mind, he made an effort to keep his expression blandly friendly until they were on her small porch. She unlocked the front door she’d painted bright blue to match the shutters. One hand on the knob, she smiled up at him. “Okay, I’m safely home. You can relax.”

He searched her face in the soft glow of her porch light. “You’re sure you’re okay? If you need anything else this evening, even if just to talk more, I’m available.”

In a gesture that was both impulsive and entirely characteristic, she wrapped her arms around his waist for a hug. “Thank you,” she said. “You’re a very nice man, Cole McKellar.”

A very nice man. As flattering as her comments were, they were hardly the words she’d have whispered in one of those steamy daydreams. Giving himself a mental slap, he returned his friend’s hug with a brief squeeze before stepping back. “Good night, Stevie. Call if you need me.”

She opened her door. “Good night, Cole.”

He stepped down from the little porch into the falling snow, which was already hiding the footprints they’d left on the way. He’d taken only a step when something made him turn back around. “Stevie?”

She paused in the act of closing the door. “Yes?”

“You aren’t alone.”

With that blurted promise, he turned and headed home, his head down, his fists shoved into the pockets of his coat. He’d taken quite a few steps by the time he heard Stevie close her door.

Chapter Two

Stevie woke late Saturday morning feeling more positive than she had since she first suspected she was pregnant. She wandered to her bedroom window to look over an expanse of glittering snow toward Cole’s house. Simply sharing her predicament with him last night had seemed to take a load off her shoulders.

You aren’t alone. She could still hear the echo of his deep voice. The words had lulled her to sleep last night, and were still drifting through her mind when she’d awakened. She couldn’t begin to express how much it had meant to her to hear them.

Cole was such a great guy. Quiet, but with his own sly sense of humor. Fascinatingly intelligent, in a math-ish sort of way. And completely nonjudgmental, a particularly appealing trait at the moment.

A habitual matchmaker for her friends, she’d occasionally tried to think of someone who’d be a good match for this supernice man, but for some reason she could never come up with anyone who seemed just right for him. A secret part of her had acknowledged on occasion that she’d selfishly wanted to keep him to herself. She had pushed that unsettling voice aside, reminding herself that she’d been in no position to make a play for Cole even if he’d encouraged her.

She wasn’t even sure he’d dated seriously in the year she’d known him, though he went out sometimes in the evenings, casually alluding to gatherings with friends. He didn’t talk about his late wife much, but on those rare occasions his face warmed and softened. She could tell he had truly loved her. Natasha had been gone for several years, but maybe he still mourned her too deeply to be interested in a new relationship. It was hard to be sure with Cole. He tended to keep his deepest emotions to himself.

It made her sad to think of him still grieving, unwilling or unable to fall in love again. Only because he was her friend and she wanted all her friends to be happy, she assured herself. Still, he seemed content with his home, a job he enjoyed and the friends she hadn’t met, so maybe that was enough for him.

She dressed in jeans and a multicolored sweater with colorfully striped knee socks, figuring she’d be out in the cold at some point. As had been her habit the past couple weeks, she turned sideways in front of the mirror to check her figure. Her jeans were getting a little snug in the waist and her bras were a bit tight on her already-generous bustline, but she doubted even her closest friends would be able to guess her condition by looking at her.

She must tell Tess and Jenny soon. She felt incredibly guilty that she hadn’t already, even more than not having told her mother and brother. Her two closest friends would forgive her, would even understand why she’d kept her secret for so long, but she wouldn’t blame them if they were a bit hurt, at least at first. Especially Jenny, who’d been her best friend since their school days. They’d met Tess almost two years ago and they’d been a tight trio ever since, though they couldn’t spend quite as much time together now that Jenny was married and Tess was busily planning a June wedding.

Being human, after all, and the most unabashedly romantic of the small group, Stevie couldn’t help feeling a little envious that both Jenny and Tess had found the loves of their lives while her own romances always fizzled. Perhaps she’d been destined all along to follow in her mother’s self-reliant footsteps. Was it in her genes to habitually fall for the men who were least likely to settle down to marriage and families?

Shaking her head in exasperation, she turned away from the window.

After eating breakfast, she went into a spare bedroom she used as a home office. Sitting at her desk, she thought of Cole. Like him, she worked from home a lot, but she also leased a small office in a midtown strip center, though most of her work hours were spent in on-site meetings with clients. She was glad she had a third bedroom so she wouldn’t lose her office when the baby came.

She’d been at it only an hour when she was interrupted by the chime of the doorbell. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was just after eleven. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Thinking Cole had come over to check on her, she opened the door with an eager smile that wavered only a little when she saw the caller.

“Hi, guys, what’s up?” she asked the three pink-cheeked, heavily bundled kids grinning up at her. The Bristol siblings were cute little peas from the same pod, all red-haired, green-eyed and snub-nosed. The boys, Leo and Asher, were nine and seven. Charlotte was five. Baby sister Everly—the “surprise baby,” according to their mother, Lori—was presumably at home with their mom. A rather chaotic pathway of little footprints in the snow led from their house across the cul-de-sac to Stevie’s small porch.

“Can you come out and help us build a snowman, Miss Stevie?” Charlotte asked with wide, hopeful eyes. “Mommy’s taking care of Everly and Daddy’s at work.”

She wasn’t surprised by the request. Since the baby’s birth six months ago, she’d played with them several times to give their somewhat harried mother a few minutes to rest on days when her firefighter husband was on twenty-four-hour shifts. They’d thrown basketballs at the hoop mounted above their garage door, played tag and catch, even sat at the picnic table in their backyard with board games. Lori had been almost tearfully grateful for the breaks, but Stevie never minded. She liked kids, particularly these funny and well-behaved siblings.

“Give me five minutes to bundle up and I’ll join you in your yard.”

The children cheered happily.

“Leo, hold Charlotte’s hand on the way back across the street,” she instructed. “And look both ways before you cross.”

Leo made an exaggerated show of taking his little sister’s hand to lead her across the empty street to their own yard. Smiling, Stevie closed her door and turned toward the bedroom.

Half an hour later, she was breathless and covered with snow from the bright blue knit cap on her head to the waterproof pink boots into which she’d tucked her jeans. Her hooded jacket was yellow, her gloves the same blue as her hat. Charlotte told her she looked like she was wearing a rainbow. Laughing, Stevie showed her how to make a snow angel, adding to her frosty coating.

With the thin layer of sleet beneath, the snow crunched when they played in it. Gray clouds hung low above them, but happy laughter reigned in the Bristol’s front yard. From inside the warm house, Lori and baby Everly appeared occasionally in a window to watch, and Stevie waved to them. Next year that little angel, too, would be out playing in the snow. And she would have a baby of her own to watch, she realized with a hard thump of her heart. To soothe the fresh attack of nerves, she focused on the Bristol kids.

The boys had nearly cleared the front lawn of packable snow in the quest to make their snowman “supersized.” It was so big that Stevie was elected to lift the giant head onto the body. She drew a deep breath and prepared to give it her best shot. Two strong, black-gloved hands came from behind her to offer assistance. She looked over her shoulder and smiled when she saw Cole standing there. He wore a black watchman cap over his thick dark hair, a black jacket and black boots—a more somber, coordinated ensemble than her own.

His chocolate eyes gleamed with amusement as he grinned down at her. “Need a hand?”

“Or two,” she agreed. “These kids like their snowmen on the larger side.”

“We’re building a snow giant!” Asher exclaimed eagerly, carrying a large stick he’d found in the backyard. “This can be one of his arms. Leo’s looking for another.”

With Cole’s help, they made short work of completing their snow friend, accessorizing with a battered ball cap and frayed scarf donated by Lori. They created facial features with decorative river rocks filched from the flower beds. It had started to snow again, to the children’s delight. Another half inch was predicted on top of the six inches that had collected during the night. Stevie figured the snowman would survive a day or two before the warmer temperatures forecast for later in the week melted him away.

After being summoned for lunch by their mother, the siblings politely thanked Stevie and Cole for their assistance in building “the best snowman ever!” They tramped reluctantly inside their house when their mother called out again. Stevie grimaced sympathetically as she imagined the wet mess of clothing and puddles Lori would deal with, but maybe the busy mom would consider it a fair trade-off for the hour of volunteer babysitting. From the open doorway, with Everly on her hip, she called out an offer of hot chocolate, but they declined cordially.

“Though, actually, hot chocolate sounds like a good idea,” Stevie confided to Cole as they tramped across the street. She wiped snowflakes from her eyelashes with the back of one damp glove. “I’m freezing.”

“Your jeans are wet from rolling around in the snow with Charlotte. You should get into dry clothes.”

She noted he’d stayed much drier, maybe because he’d been a little less enthusiastic about getting down in the snow, she admitted with a grin.

“Come in, if you have time,” she said, motioning toward her house. “I make a mean mug of cocoa.”

“That sounds really—”

His right foot slipped on a slick spot on her driveway. Flailing comically, he went down flat on his back in the snow. Stevie almost burst into laughter at the funny expression he made as he lay there, but she managed to contain her amusement to a grin.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, though she could tell at a glance that he’d damaged only his pride.

Very deliberately, he spread his arms and legs into Vs, then climbed to his feet, surveying the resulting snow angel with a nod of satisfaction. “I meant to do that.”

Delighted by his quick wit, she laughed and tucked a hand companionably beneath his arm. “Let’s go get warm.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said, covering her hand with his own. And though they both wore gloves, she could still feel the warmth of his touch spreading through her.

Having shed their wet boots on the porch, Cole insisted that Stevie change into dry clothes before she played hostess. She left him to wash up in the guest bath while she ducked into her bedroom to change into a loose sweater and leggings. Fluffing her curls with her hands, she gave herself a quick once-over in the full-length, silver-framed, art deco mirror that coordinated with her sage, silver and cream French deco bedroom furnishings. Her cheeks and nose were still pink from the cold but she resisted an impulse to touch up her minimal makeup for her guest’s benefit. After all, it was just Cole, right?

Her country French kitchen was her favorite room in the house. The walls were warm sage, the cabinets knotty pecan with leaded glass inserts, the counters brown-and-tan granite with antique bronze hardware. Cole joined her there, looking casually at ease in his sweater, jeans and wool socks. His dark hair was disheveled from the hat he’d removed, and her fingers itched with a sudden urge to play in those thick, unruly waves. She opened the refrigerator instead. “How about a sandwich before we drink our cocoa? Playing in the snow always gives me an appetite.”

“Sounds good, if it’s not too much trouble. What can I do to help?”

When they sat down to lunch, to her relief, he didn’t bring up her pregnancy. He merely ate his grilled cheddar-and-tomato sandwiches and munched salt-and-vinegar chips while she babbled nervously about everything and anything—except her predicament.

After the dishes were cleared away, they moved to the living room with steaming cups of cocoa topped with marshmallows. She’d indulged her love of eclectic European and American deco design in here, too. Flames crackled among the gas logs in the fireplace framed in white-painted carved wood, spreading warmth through the room. With her feet curled comfortably beneath her, she sat on the dove-gray couch that faced the fireplace. Cole had settled in a tapestry armchair near her end of the couch. She couldn’t help admiring the way the firelight brought out the highlights in his hair.

“I’ve always liked this room,” he commented, stretching his legs in front of him toward the fire. “It always impresses me that it can look so classy yet still be so comfortable. Not fussy and formal like some people’s decorated places.”

Pleased by the comments, she beamed. “That’s exactly what I aim for in my decorating. Stylish, but welcoming. Home design is meant to be enjoyed. Lived in, not just admired or photographed.”

He nodded in approval. “That’s as it should be. I’ve always said it was a waste to have furniture you can’t sit on or carpet you feel guilty walking on. Tasha—”

He stopped talking and took a sip of his cocoa.

She swirled her beverage gently in her mug to better distribute the melting marshmallows. “Natasha agreed with your design aesthetic?” she prodded gently. She was curious to hear more about the woman he’d married, but she didn’t want to cause him pain talking about her.

He shrugged, his expression wry. “She wasn’t really into decorating. As long as she had a comfortable chair for reading, she was happy.”

“She liked to read?”

“Almost obsessively, especially as her health declined and there was little else she could do.”

“Was she sick for a long time?”

“Yes,” he replied quietly.

And Cole had taken care of her during that time. She had no doubt that Natasha had received the best of care from him. Unlike most of the men in her own past, Cole wasn’t the type to walk away from his responsibilities and commitments, even when those challenges were daunting. Any woman who captured his heart would be very fortunate, indeed, she thought a bit wistfully.

“Do you have plans for the day?” he asked, and it couldn’t be more obvious that he wanted to change the subject.

She obliged. “I was going to spend a few hours at my office, but I think I’ll just work at home this afternoon instead, considering drivers around here go insane when there’s snow on the roads.”

“Good plan. So, are you, um, feeling better today?”

She managed not to grimace in response to the oblique reminder of last night’s meltdown, but it still embarrassed her. “Much better, thank you. I had fun playing with the Bristol kids this morning.”

“Nice kids. They’re obviously crazy about you.”

“I like them, too.”

He finished his cocoa. A dab of marshmallow dotted his upper lip when he lowered the mug. She eyed it from beneath her lashes. She wasn’t sure why she wasn’t teasing him about it. Normally she would have, but something held her back just then. Maybe it was the crazy image that popped unexpectedly into her head—herself licking away that tempting smudge and then sampling the taste of chocolate on his firm lips.

She blinked rapidly, shocked at the direction her thoughts had taken. Hormones. That had to be the explanation. Sure, she’d always been aware of Cole as an attractive man, not to mention his other fine qualities, but she’d deliberately avoided thinking of him in that way. She’d made some really bad decisions when it came to romance, leading, if not to heartbreak, at least to frequent disappointment. Tragically widowed, Cole had shown so signs that he wanted more from her than friendship. And besides, she treasured their relationship too much to risk ruining it by trying to convince themselves they were a compatible match. Most especially not now, considering her awkward predicament.

He wiped off that distracting bit of marshmallow with a napkin, then stood to carry his mug to the kitchen. She followed with her own. He turned just as she approached the sink, and they very nearly collided. With a low laugh, he caught her shoulders. “Steady there.”

Heat flared from his touch. For a moment, her mind went blank. She took a jerky step backward, then tried to cover her discomfiture with a laugh. “Were you afraid I was going to knock you over?”

He smiled. “Maybe. I’ve already landed at your feet once in the past twenty-four hours. And there’s no snow in here to give me a credible reason for being on the ground.”

She laughed and moved to rinse her mug in the sink. When she turned back around, she found Cole looking up at her high ceiling with a frown. “You have a bulb out,” he said.

She followed his glance and saw the dark bulb in one of the recessed canisters that provided auxiliary lighting to the pendant lamps over the island. “I thought something looked different in that corner.”

“Do you have a spare bulb?”

“Yes. I’ll change it later.”

He was shaking his head before she’d completed the sentence. “You don’t need to climb ladders in your condition. I’ll take care of it.”

She had to admit it was difficult for her, at five-two, to change the bulbs in her nine-foot kitchen ceiling. Grateful for his assistance, she fetched a bulb and a stepladder, then turned off the light switch. She leaned against a nearby counter while Cole climbed onto the stepladder and reached overhead. For a self-professed “computer nerd,” the man did stay in good condition, she thought, watching muscles ripple as he stretched upward and his shirt exposed part of what looked to be a perfectly formed six pack.

“Well, damn.”

She lifted an eyebrow in response to his growl. “What’s wrong?”

“Bulb broke off in my hand and now the cap’s stuck in the socket.”

“Hang on, I’ll grab a potato.”

He stepped off the ladder to toss the broken bulb into the trash, watching while she sliced a fat potato neatly in half. “So you know that trick.”

She smiled as she handed him one half of the potato. “I’ve broken a few bulbs in my time. My mom taught me this trick years ago. Our budget was usually tight, so she was the ‘handyman’ around here when we were growing up, at least until my brother and I were old enough to do our share of maintenance.”

“She sounds very self-sufficient.”

“I suppose she had to be. I’ve told you, of course, that Mom never married the fathers of either of her kids. She had issues with commitment, and she said neither of them were the home-and-hearth types, anyway. My father died when I was just a toddler, leaving nothing for my support. Mom didn’t get much help from my brother’s dad, either, but she supported us well enough on her own. She put a down payment on this house with a small inheritance from her parents when Tom and I were very young, and then paid it off over the next ten years with her salary. She was a shrewd budgeter. She gave us a good home here—even though working nine to five in a state job smothered her gypsy soul, as she informed us too many times to count.”

Back up on the ladder, Cole glanced down at her when she stopped for a breath. “She sounds like a unique woman.”

She smiled. “She is that.”

Practically the day Stevie had graduated from college, her accomplished but unconventional mother had announced she was retiring from her job with the state and moving to Hawaii. Upon her retirement, she’d sold Stevie this house for a bargain price and had gone off to find herself on a warm beach.

She turned to pull a bottle of water from the fridge, speaking almost to herself as she twisted off the cap. “I only hope I can handle the challenges of single motherhood as well as Mom did.”

“You’ll be great.” He pushed the potato into the broken bulb and twisted. The resulting metallic squeal made them both grimace, but the trick worked. Stevie held up a wastebasket for the potato and broken parts, then handed him the new bulb.

“Thanks,” he said, reaching up again before asking in a conversational tone, “Do you remember your father at all?”

“No. Like I said, I was just a toddler when he was killed in a car wreck, and he’d never even seen me.”

“And your brother’s father?”

“Tom’s dad is still living, as far as we know, but they’ve never had a relationship. It was just the three of us here.”

She gave a little sigh. “I have to admit I was always envious of my friends who had fathers in their lives. Jenny grew up without a dad, too, so she and I bonded in childhood over that, but we were both a little jealous of the girls who had dads to take them to father-daughter dances or even to give their boyfriends the third degree,” she added with a rueful laugh. “I know Tom would have liked having a father to play catch with him and take him fishing and other male bonding stuff. Mom threw a mean curve ball and taught us to ride our bikes and drive and do basic home and car maintenance, everything we needed, really...but I’ve always thought if I ever had a kid, I’d give him or her the one thing missing from my own otherwise happy childhood. A dad.”

Dusting off his hands, Cole climbed down and folded the stepladder. “Not everyone is lucky enough to have a close relationship with their father,” he muttered as he carried the ladder toward the laundry room.

She watched him thoughtfully. Though he hadn’t said much about his family issues, she knew Cole wasn’t close to his father. He’d told her his parents were divorced, and both remarried. His mother had moved to another state several years ago, and he’d spent most of his childhood with his paternal grandparents—the “country grandpa” he quoted often—but he hadn’t given details of his estrangement from his dad.

Maybe it was just as well she was doing this on her own, she thought with a sigh. Her child’s biological father had no interest at all in fatherhood. Had she been with someone different, someone more steady and reliable and responsible—someone like Cole, she thought with a hard swallow—well, that could have had a very different outcome.

Rejoining her, Cole glanced around the kitchen. “Is there anything else I can do for you before I go? Any more repairs you need seen to? It’s the least I can do in return for all the cat sitting you’re doing this week.”

She smiled. “No, that’s it, thanks.”

“You have food and supplies so you don’t have to go out this afternoon? The roads are still a mess.”

She patted his arm. “I’m good, Cole, thank you.”

He caught her hand in his, gave the fingers a little squeeze, then released her quickly and took a step back. “I’d better go, then. I have a conference call later this afternoon and I need to get ready for it.”

“You have a conference call on a Saturday afternoon?” she asked as she followed him into the living room.

He reached for his coat and hat. “Yeah. A lot going on with work this week. I’ll probably be tied up for a couple hours, but if you need anything don’t hesitate to let me know, okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Be careful walking home. I think we have enough snow angels out there.”

He made a face that drew a laugh from her. “I’ll watch my step.”

His faint smile fading, he paused with his hand on the doorknob, looking as though there was something on his mind. Her fingers laced tightly in front of her. She waited, but he remained silent.

His gaze lifted, locking with hers. Lost in his bottomless dark eyes, she stared back at him. It felt as though something important hovered between them, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Something he wanted to say? To do? Something he was waiting for her to say or do?

“Call if you need me,” he said and opened the door. He was gone before she could even respond.

Biting her lip, she locked the door behind him, then crossed the room and sank onto the couch. Something had changed between her and Cole since she’d shared her news with him, she thought wistfully. She couldn’t define it, exactly. Cole certainly wasn’t showing disapproval. Just the opposite, in fact; he’d been supportive and considerate. He’d sounded sincere when he said he had faith in her. As the first of her friends she’d told, he’d reacted exactly the way she hoped they all would.

And yet, something was different. She could only describe it as an awareness she hadn’t acknowledged before. Whether it was only on her part, she couldn’t say, but what else could it be? Maybe it was all in her head. Maybe those wonky hormones and jumbled emotions were making her imagine things that weren’t real. Whatever the reason, she had to get a grip. She’d made quite a few foolish mistakes in the past few months, but she would never do anything that would put her treasured friendship with Cole at risk.

Her phone rang some three hours after Cole left. Looking away from the kitchen design on her computer monitor, she glanced at the ID screen on her phone. She smiled when she saw Cole’s name. Was he checking on her again already? Very sweet, but she’d have to convince him she was fine so he would stop worrying about her. It hadn’t helped, of course, that she’d blubbered all over him last night, she thought with a wince.

With that embarrassing memory in mind, she answered cheerily. “Hi, Cole. What’s up?”

“Just letting you know I’m going to have to catch a plane to Chicago first thing in the morning.”

She frowned. “I thought you weren’t leaving until later in the week.”

“So did I. But the conference call I mentioned was a nightmare. I have to go sort out some stuff. And try not to knock heads together while I’m there,” he finished grimly.

She giggled, but a bit wistfully. He’d only just gotten back from the last trip. She wished he didn’t have to go again so soon. She was sure he felt the same way, though probably not for the same reasons. “I’ll take good care of Dusty.”

“You always do. I’m pretty sure you’re her favorite person. Which I understand completely,” he added, and she could hear the smile in his voice now.

“Why, thank you, kind sir.”

His low chuckle rumbled pleasantly in her ear. “The roads should be much better tomorrow, but don’t take any chances, okay? Be careful.”

“I will. You do the same.”

She set her phone aside with a little sigh after they disconnected. She would miss him again. But maybe it would be good to have a little distance from him for a few days. She was quite sure everything would be back to normal—as much as possible considering the circumstances, anyway—once he returned.

It had been a long, frustrating day, but that wasn’t what kept Cole awake Tuesday night. Ultimately, the business problems had been settled to everyone’s satisfaction, and he would be able to return to Little Rock Thursday and get back to work in his much-preferred home office. So, it wasn’t the job that had him tossing and turning in the hotel bed, or that made him finally give up and move to the window to stare blankly out at the midnight Chicago skyline. His thoughts were several hundred miles away. With Stevie McLane, to be precise.

Even when he’d been immersed in discussions about figures and trends and mathematical models, he’d been aware of thoughts of her hovering at the back of his mind, ready to push to the forefront as soon as he was alone. It was rare that he allowed himself to be distracted from work, but he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Stevie since she’d confided her pregnancy to him Friday night. He’d acknowledged privately that Stevie had been in his thoughts increasingly often during the past months, but even more so this week.

Something she’d said Saturday kept replaying in his mind. I’ve always thought if I ever had a kid, I’d give him or her the one thing missing from my own otherwise happy childhood. A dad.

A brainstorm had occurred to him in the middle of that night, and he’d been pondering it ever since, giving it his usual thorough contemplation of all potential consequences. He still had nagging doubts about whether he was qualified to even make the offer, considering the poor example his own father had set, but he’d decided he should at least discuss the idea with Stevie.

He wasn’t sure which possible outcome unnerved him most. That she would turn him down...or that she would accept.

He turned away from the window and padded back over to the tousled bed. He always kept a few interesting nonfiction books on his tablet. Maybe if he read awhile, he’d lull himself to sleep. Reaching out to turn on the bedside lamp, he muttered a curse when he knocked his wallet off the nightstand. He reached down to scoop it up and it fell open in his hands. He started to close it when something made him pause. Very slowly, he reached into the back of the wallet and drew out a small photograph with worn edges.

He’d once commented to Natasha that she had the face of a Renaissance Madonna. She’d laughed and told him not to be silly, but that hadn’t changed the fact that she could have posed for one of those famous paintings. Framed by straight, dark hair, her oval face had been delicate, her skin a flawless olive. Her dark hazel eyes had been striking in their intensity and clarity, making him feel at times as though she could see right into him. Despite that serene exterior, she’d had a warrior spirit, refusing to accept the health issues that had eventually led to her death. She’d made plans for a long marriage, for a career, for a family. She’d clung to those dreams until the very end of her life.

He ran his fingertips slowly across the face in the photo. Natasha had been gone five years, leaving him a widower before he’d turned thirty. She wouldn’t have wanted him to spend the rest of his life alone. But still, he felt a niggle of remorse whenever he envisioned himself having all the things she had wanted so badly and would never have.

She would understand, he told himself, sliding the photo back into place. She’d have liked Stevie, though they had little in common other than kind hearts and innate optimism. Natasha would certainly understand his compulsion to offer assistance to a valued friend, someone in a difficult situation. She had once described him as a compulsive caregiver.

His growing attraction to Stevie during the past year had made him both uncomfortable and vaguely guilty, despite his assurances of what Tasha would have wanted for him. He’d thought it a futile fantasy, a sometimes-lonely bachelor’s natural infatuation for a desirable and fascinating woman. But now Stevie’s circumstances had taken a daunting turn. And he’d promised her she wouldn’t be alone.

Maybe he could give Stevie what he had failed to provide for Natasha no matter how hard he’d tried, he thought bleakly, tossing the wallet aside. Moving to stare out the window again, he wished he could erase the nagging apprehension that he didn’t have enough to offer.

After several business meetings Monday and another appointment with her obstetrician Tuesday, Stevie spent Wednesday evening relaxing with her friends Jenny Locke and Tess Miller for an ever-more-rare girls’ night out. In addition to their changing personal lives, all of them stayed busy with their successful careers. Jenny owned two fashion and accessories boutiques and planned to open another within the next year. Tess was the office manager for her fiancé’s thriving commercial construction company. Stevie’s kitchen design business was growing increasingly in demand due to recommendations from her satisfied customers. It was getting harder all the time to find a night when all three were free, but they made an effort to nurture the friendship that meant so much to all of them.

They enjoyed gathering occasionally at Jenny’s boutique, Complements, after business hours. With no other customers in the store, Stevie and Tess could try on new outfits, play with the latest bags and jewelry and supplement their wardrobes with the “friends and family discount” Jenny always extended to them. Tonight they huddled around a counter spread with magazines, photographs and fabric samples Tess had brought with her. Two computer tablets lay amongst the clutter, different bridal websites displayed on the screens.

“So, we all agree?” Tess asked. “We like these colors? Poppy red and pale yellow? And what about the bridesmaids’ dresses? Is there any particular style you both prefer?”

Stevie bit her lip as she did a quick mental calculation. Tess’s wedding was scheduled for mid-June. Stevie would be seven months pregnant and sporting a big belly by then. It was time to come clean with her friends. She didn’t know why it was so much harder to confide in them than it had been with Cole. She was sure Jenny and Tess were going to be supportive, though she wouldn’t be surprised if tears were shed, and not all of them hers. She drew a deep breath.

“Hello?” Tess studied both Stevie and Jenny with a quizzical expression. “Neither of you is answering me. Which style do you like for the bridesmaids’ dresses?”

Jenny spoke before Stevie had a chance to share her news. “Um, Tess? If it’s okay with you, I think we should choose a loose, nonfitted style.”

Something in Jenny’s tone made both Stevie and Tess look at her curiously. Her expression made Stevie’s breath catch, and she heard Tess give a little squeak.

“Jen?” Tess’s voice was breathless with anticipation.

A shaky smile spread across Jenny’s beautiful face. “I’m pregnant.”

The words Stevie had been prepared to say lodged in her throat.

Jenny looked at Tess when she added, “I’m only four weeks along, so I’m a little nervous about even mentioning it yet. But with the wedding preparations moving along, and the need to order dresses soon, I thought you should know now.”

Tess squealed and reached out to her friend. Though usually the most exuberantly demonstrative of the trio, Stevie paused a beat before throwing herself into the group hug. She hoped her hesitation, if noticed, would be attributed to happy surprise.

Jenny was already answering a barrage of questions from Tess. Yes, she felt fine other than some morning nausea; yes, Gavin was super excited; yes, they’d told their families and everyone was thrilled.

Swiping at her damp cheeks, Tess beamed and started gathering the wedding materials. “All of this can wait. Let’s go to the restaurant next door and we can talk about your news over dinner. I want to hear how your mom and grandmother reacted. I know Gavin’s big family must have gone crazy. Do you know when you’ll start decorating the nursery? I bet Stevie can help you with that, can’t you, Stevie?”

“Well, I’m more comfortable with kitchens, but I’m sure I can come up with a few suggestions for decorating a nursery.” Stevie smiled brightly as she set her own momentous news aside for now. Jenny glowed with happiness about her pregnancy, and Tess was still eager to discuss the simple, but certain-to-be-beautiful wedding she was trying to put together quickly. This seemed entirely the wrong time to mention that she was already three months pregnant herself.

She hid her inner turmoil for the remainder of the evening behind mile-a-minute chatter and animated laughter, giving her friends little opportunity to ask anything personal of her. They had an absolutely delightful evening, yet Stevie had trouble fully enjoying it.

“I just couldn’t tell them,” she said to Cole the next afternoon, restlessly pacing her living room. “Jenny was so happy to make her announcement—and very nervous that it’s still early so something could yet go wrong. And Tess is focusing on her wedding arrangements. She’s seeing everything through orange blossom-colored lenses right now. If I’d told them my situation, they’d have started worrying about me and obsessing about my situation rather than their own excitement and I didn’t want our special evening to veer off into that direction last night, so I—”

“Breathe, Stevie.” Watching her from an armchair, Cole broke in to interrupt the rush of words she’d been holding in for hours. His deep voice was a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. “You’ll hyperventilate.”

He’d arrived only a few minutes earlier to let her know he was back in town and thank her, as he always did, for taking care of Dusty while he was gone. Stevie had barely waited until he was seated before she’d started pacing and venting to the only person who truly understood what she’d been going through recently.

She inhaled deeply. Staying busy with work, she’d held herself together pretty well since she’d parted from her friends last night with warm hugs and too-bright smiles, but just seeing Cole on her doorstep had brought her emotions dangerously close to the surface again. She paused in front of him, pushed her hair from her face with both hands and managed a smile of sorts.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to keep unloading all my problems on you. It’s your fault for being such a good listener,” she added, trying to lighten the mood with teasing.

“I don’t mind,” he assured her, and made her believe him. “Actually, I’ve given your situation a great deal of thought, and I have some suggestions for you, if you’re interested in hearing them.”

He looked so solemn that she had to smile despite her agitation. “You’ve given this careful consideration, have you?”

His lips twitched. “I’ve analyzed the data you presented to me and I would like to suggest some viable alternatives for your consideration.”

She chuckled in response to his self-mocking expression, then grew serious again. “That’s very sweet of you, but I’m sure I’ll work out a plan of some sort.”

His faint smile vanished. “You’re stressed, and that’s not good for either you or the baby. I understand why you were reluctant to talk to your girlfriends last night, under the circumstances, and apparently you aren’t quite ready to turn to your family. But I’m your friend, too, and I’m here for you. This is what I do, you know. I look at all the angles of a problem and identify solutions.”

She twisted a shoulder-length curl around her finger in her habitual nervous gesture. “I know you’re a genius at your work. But I’m not sure my current situation is in your wheelhouse.”

“Not exactly, but I’d like to try to help. I made a few notes.” He reached into his shirt pocket, drawing out his ever-present, tablet-sized smartphone. He pushed a button, then studied the words on the screen intently.

Seriously? He’d made notes? Was this the cutest thing ever?

“You said you didn’t want to raise your child without a father. Is there any chance the biological father will change his mind about being involved?”

“None,” she said with absolute certainty, amusement evaporating. “He made that very clear.”

Cole nodded, then moved on to his next point. “You said you worried about keeping your business afloat, both financially and logistically, while juggling maternity leave and infant care.”

“That will be a challenge,” she admitted, twisting the curl more tightly. “I’ve already started saving as much as I can stash away and I’m trying to keep my calendar organized around my due date.”

“You’re going to need help,” he said bluntly. “I believe there’s an obvious solution. The ideal option is for you to marry someone who likes and wants kids. Someone who can help you with the myriad daily responsibilities of raising a child and running a successful business.”

Taken aback, she shook her head in bemusement. This was the strategy Cole thought was obvious? That she should simply find someone to marry before her baby’s arrival?

“Cole, that’s—”

He seemed intent on quickly spelling out his reasoning. “You said you’re done with unstable romances. I’m of the opinion, myself, that marriages built on practical foundations are more sustainable than those based on fantasy and infatuation. My parents, for example, married in a youthful whirlwind romance that ended in a bitter and acrimonious divorce. Both wed for the second time for far more sensible purposes and those marriages have been much more successful.”

“You’re suggesting I should marry a friend to help me raise my child?”

Cole nodded, looking for all the world as if his improbable conclusion made perfect sense. He set aside the phone. “It’s the ideal solution.”

She gave him a quizzical smile. “So, are you offering to marry me, Cole?”

His look of surprise almost made her laugh again. He must not have realized how his suggestion could be interpreted, she mused in fond indulgence.

“I thought you understood,” he said, his expression very earnest now. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

Chapter Three

Stevie’s soft laughter ended with a choke. She coughed a couple of times, waving Cole off when he stood and stepped forward as if to pound her back. Once she’d recovered her breath, she told herself she must have misheard him. “You, um—what?”

“I’m asking you to marry me,” he repeated. Slowly this time, as if to make sure she comprehended.

Though her first reaction was shock, as his words sank in she found herself almost unbearably touched. A lump formed in her throat when she looked at him standing there all rumpled and noble and earnest. And sexy as all get-out, but she pushed that particular observation to the back of her mind to concentrate on the conversation.

She rested a hand lightly on his arm and spoke in a voice that wasn’t entirely steady. “That’s very sweet of you, Cole, but you understand pregnant women don’t have to get married these days, right?”

He covered her hand with his own. “Yes, I know. But you have to admit it would be much easier if you have someone to share the responsibilities. I like kids. Always thought I’d have at least one of my own someday, but I’d sort of given up on that expectation. I wasn’t sure I’d ever marry again. I liked being married, but I get frazzled just thinking about the pressures and social expectations of courtship. Yet I can picture myself raising this child with you.”

She drew her hand slowly from beneath his to latch on to a lock of her hair, twisting it so tightly her fingertip went numb. Was this real? Cole wasn’t one to play practical jokes. And even if he were, this would hardly be funny. “I’m not sure what to say.”

Still standing close, he studied her gravely, as if trying to read her mind. She wished him luck with that. The way her head was spinning, even she couldn’t make sense of her thoughts.

“I can tell you’re surprised, and I understand. But think about it, Stevie. It makes perfect sense. We could have a good life together. With my telecommuting job, I could watch the baby while you’re working. Your career is flexible enough that we could coordinate our schedules around my business trips. I make a good living, so between the two of us, the child would be well cared for. I’m good with kids—and you have to admit I build a really great snowman,” he added with a disarmingly self-deprecating smile.

“Wow.” She swallowed, then said again, “Wow! You’re actually serious.”

He nodded. “It’s a good plan, right? Win-win. For me, for you—and for this baby.”

Oh, that was hardly a fair argument, she thought with a hard swallow. She’d told him she wished she could give her child a devoted dad. And she could hardly imagine a more upstanding candidate for the position.

She became aware that the hand not tangled in her hair had gone subconsciously to her stomach. She was still having trouble believing this was an actual proposal of marriage, but still she had to ask, “You’d really have no objection to raising another man’s child as your own?”

Cole looked genuinely startled by the question. As straightforward as ever, he replied, “I’ve never had a particular desire to see my own face in miniature. My childhood best friend was adopted, something he discussed openly. He was closer to his adoptive family than I was to my biological one.”

Though she didn’t know the details of his estrangement from his father, she couldn’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t be grateful to have a son like Cole.

“Kids don’t need a certified pedigree to make them happy,” he added, just a hint of uncharacteristic wistfulness in his voice now. “They need love. Encouragement. Unwavering support. I can offer all those things to this child we can welcome together. Let’s face it, neither of us expected this development, but we’re both in the right place at the right time to accept the challenge.”

Something deep inside her tightened in response to his words. “You’ve really given this a lot of consideration, haven’t you?”

He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it for days. I had to consider all the ramifications before I came to you. I’d never make a commitment I wasn’t prepared to honor completely and permanently. I’m absolutely sure about this.”

It wasn’t often that naturally talkative Stevie found herself without words, but Cole had managed to strike her speechless. She almost wondered if she were dreaming this entire conversation, drifting into foolish daydreams about what might have been...

Cole reached out to gently untangle her hand from her hair, then cradled both her hands in his. She wasn’t sure if he’d practiced this proposal, but he spoke without hesitation, visibly sincere. “Marry me, Stevie. You said I’m one of your best friends. I feel the same about you. We mesh well together, have from the start. We can make this work. We can give this child the type of home and family you and I both wanted growing up. I’m not making a sacrifice or being unselfish in this offer. I want very much to be a dad to this kid. I think I’d make a good one.”

She’d spent her whole life acting on impulse, following her heart, her hunches, her instincts. Every one of those usual prompts urged her now to accept Cole’s offer on the spot. Still, she owed it to him, to herself, to her child to take time to consider before she leaped this time.

“Think about it,” he urged, reading the emotions chasing themselves across her face. “I don’t want to rush you into anything that doesn’t feel right to you, and nothing has to change between us if you choose to decline my proposal. We can still be friends. I just want you to know that I’m here for you and the baby, and that I hope—”

“Yes.”

So much for caution.

He went still, his head cocked to one side as he eyed her closely. “Yes?”

She felt her fingers tremble in his big strong hands. His grip tightened just enough to show her that he felt it, too. She freed her hands and stepped back to give herself a little distance, drawing herself up to her full height, such as it was. Her voice was satisfactorily steady when she demanded, “Do you promise you’ll always be a caring, committed father to this child, no matter what happens?”

“You have my word,” he answered without a hint of hesitation. “You both do.”

If there was one thing she’d learned about Cole McKellar during the past year, it was that he was the most honest man she’d ever met. Bluntly so, at times, but that was only part of his unique charm.

“Then the answer is yes.”

It wasn’t the hearts-and-flowers-and-violins marriage proposal she’d vaguely imagined for herself in youthful, Hollywood-tinted fantasies, but look where those silly daydreams had led her, how many times they’d let her down. She was going to be a mother now, and it was time to put unrealistic expectations behind her.

If she made a list of all the attributes she’d want for her child’s father, Cole would match nearly every item on the page. Maybe he wasn’t the type to write love songs for her or shower her with grand, romantic gestures, but the men who had done those things in the past hadn’t stayed around to deal with the everyday realities of life. He wasn’t claiming a grand passion for her—perhaps his late wife would always hold that position in his heart—but she knew he was quite fond of her, and she didn’t doubt that he respected her intelligence and admired her success in her business. That meant a great deal to her.

Other men had claimed to love her, but hadn’t stayed around to make a life with her. Cole would be there, stable, dependable, practical. She needed to work on being more like him—starting now.

“Yes,” she repeated, more firmly this time.

A smile spread across his face and she had to admit he looked pleased. If he had any doubts about this plan, it wasn’t visible in his expression. As for herself, she was still nervous—oh, hell, she was scared to her toenails—but she’d made her decision. She gave her tummy a little pat, sending a silent message in that direction. You’re welcome, kid.

“Great,” he said with obvious satisfaction. “We’ll make this work, Stevie, I promise.”

“I believe you.” She would certainly do her part, she vowed.

Her legs seemed to have weakened, so she moved to sit on the couch. Cole sat beside her, drawing his phone from his pocket. She frowned a little. Was he already calling someone with the news? Was he really this excited about—

But he’d merely opened his calendar. “So when do you want to do this? The baby is due in—six months, right?”

She nodded, trying to focus on practical details. “Yes.”

“So that doesn’t give us a lot of time to take care of things. We’ll have to decide where to live, set up a nursery, work out our schedules, that sort of thing. You, um—do you want a big wedding? Because if you do—”

“No,” she assured him quickly. “I’d prefer something small and simple.”

She could see relief cross his face, though knowing Cole, she suspected he’d have agreed to a huge affair if she’d said she wanted one.

“I don’t need my parents there,” he said. “Considering they don’t even like being in the same state at the same time, they’d hardly want to attend the same wedding. They’ll probably be relieved they don’t have to make the effort. I’m pretty sure my mom will be pleased at the prospect of having a grandchild. I think she’d pretty much given up on the idea.”

She twisted her fingers in her lap. Would his mother really welcome this child, even though her son wasn’t the biological father? “Are you, um, going to tell your parents that I was already pregnant when you and I decided to get married?”

Cole shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s unnecessary. I won’t lie, but there’s no need to tell everyone our business. You can make the decision with your mother and brother. We’ll tell the child when he or she is old enough to understand, of course, and I guess your closest friends will know the truth, but I’d be fine with letting the rest make their own assumptions.”

“That works for me, too,” she murmured.

He nodded, putting that item behind them before returning to the previous one. “What about you? Do you want to wait until your mother and brother can get here to have the ceremony?”

She barely had to think about it before shaking her head. “Mom isn’t really interested in ceremonies—and she’s never been a big fan of marriage,” she added with a wry laugh. “She’ll be satisfied with hearing the details afterward and then flying in for a visit after the baby arrives. Same goes for my brother.”

“And what about your friends?”

“Jenny and Tess are going to be...surprised.” Which was the understatement of the year, of course.

Cole studied her expression. “How do you think they’ll feel about our plans?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

She was sure her friends would be concerned she was acting on impulse and would urge her to take more time to think about all of this, despite the pregnancy deadline. Bonded with their soul mates, they would obviously want the same for her. Jenny had turned down a socially advantageous proposal from a wealthy and connected attorney to wed the cop she’d loved since their college years. Tess’s engagement to her employer might have started out as an arrangement meant to assuage their matchmaking relatives during the holidays, but it hadn’t taken them long to realize they’d been deeply in love for some time.

Both Jenny and Tess would certainly remind Stevie that she had always been the one to defend the fairy tale version of romance, to insist marriage should be based on passion, not practicality. But their circumstances were very different from her own, she reminded herself. They’d had only their own best interests to consider during their courtships. Jenny understood the pain of growing up without a father, her own having died before she was even born, but would she approve of Stevie’s decision to provide for her baby’s needs over her own silly fantasies?

“I don’t know,” she repeated.

“Would you change your mind if they do disapprove?”

She shook her head firmly. “Of course not. It’s just that I’m not quite sure how to explain it to them. As I’ve said, I haven’t even told them yet that I’m pregnant. I just don’t want them to worry about me.”

As much as she hated to admit it, things were changing between her and her friends with marriages and babies coming into the picture. It was inevitable, she supposed. They would always be close, but the time they could spend together would be even more limited with these new responsibilities.

“Here’s an idea.” Cole drummed the fingers of one hand lightly against his thigh. She could tell by his expression that he’d turned his full attention to solving her latest dilemma. “Instead of telling them ahead of time and dealing with their questions and opinions, why don’t you just present it to them as a fait accompli? We could elope, then tell them we’re married and we’re committed to raising this child together. There would be little they could say at that point except to congratulate you and wish you well.”

She blinked. “Not tell them beforehand? But Jen and I have always told each other everything. Tess, too, since we met her.”

“You haven’t told them you’re pregnant.”

She winced in response to that very reasonable rebuttal. “No.”

“What’s your schedule tomorrow?” he asked after a moment.

The seemingly abrupt change of subject made her blink again before answering, “I have a meeting in the morning, but it should only take a couple of hours.”

“Can you be done by noon? I have a few things to deal with, but I can be finished by lunchtime. There’s no waiting period to be married in this state, so we could leave at around one o’clock tomorrow afternoon, pick up a marriage license and stop at one of those little wedding chapels in the Ozarks. Afterward, we’ll drive into Missouri and spend a couple nights at a nice inn in Branson, and be back at work Monday morning. I wish I could take you somewhere special for a real honeymoon, but my schedule is pretty tight at the moment and I’m sure yours is, too, getting ready for your maternity leave and all.”

“Tomorrow,” she repeated somewhat blankly, feeling swept along by a current that had surged out of control. She’d already agreed to marry him, so why did setting a time cause a flicker of panic inside her? “You’re talking about getting married tomorrow?”

“Well, we could wait a little longer if you need more time.”

“I—” She chewed her lower lip as she considered. Though she felt a bit cowardly to admit it, she could see the appeal of telling her friends after the fact rather than facing a barrage of questions and doubts and advice. Cole was right—this way it would be too late for them to try to talk her out of marrying him. Too late to talk herself out of it. “Tomorrow works for me.”

He gave her knee a little squeeze, his fingers lingering long enough to make her vividly aware of his touch. “I’ll make the arrangements with the chapel and a hotel. February is hardly peak tourist season, so we shouldn’t have trouble getting reservations. Some of the Branson theaters are probably closed for the season, but I’m sure a few are still open. It’ll be fun, right?”

“Fun.” Stevie laughed in bemusement and pressed her cold hands to her warm cheeks. “How is it that you can make even the craziest plan sound absolutely rational?”

Cole had the grace to smile crookedly as he rose from the couch. “My special talent?”

“Apparently.”

“Well?”

Rising as he did, she drew a slightly shaky breath and pressed a hand to her stomach. “Okay. I have a consultation at nine in the morning, but I can be ready to leave by one o’clock.”

As matter-of-fact as Cole was being about all this, she wouldn’t have been entirely surprised if he’d sealed the deal by offering his hand to shake. Instead, he reached into his pocket. For the first time since he’d blindsided her with this plan he’d obviously considered so carefully, she saw a hint of uncertainty in his expression. “I picked up something for you while I was in Chicago. I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I’ll—” Her voice faded when she saw the little velvet box resting on his palm. “Oh.”

“I wanted to be prepared in case you said yes.” He opened the hinged lid to reveal the contents.

Her breath caught when the overhead light glittered off a diamond set on a white gold band. It was exactly the type of ring she’d have expected Cole to choose, simple and classic. Even the choice of square-cut over the slightly more traditional round stone was typical of him—though the gesture itself was certainly unexpected.

“It’s beautiful, Cole.” Her voice sounded husky to her own ears.

He caught her hand and slid the ring on her finger. She told herself it was a good omen that it fit surprisingly well. Her hands were small, but the ring wasn’t overpowering. In fact, she’d have said it was exactly right for her.

He was watching her face. “If you’d prefer another style, we can swap it for—”

She curled her fingers protectively around the ring. “This one is perfect.”

“I’m glad you like it. So, I’ll go now and start making arrangements. This time tomorrow, we’ll be in Branson.”

And married, she added silently, swallowing hard.

She could tell his mind was already engaged with lists of tasks he wanted to complete before tomorrow. She knew how he got when he was focused on a deadline. He was probably itching to tap away at his trustworthy little tablet. “All right. See you tomorrow.”

She walked him to the door, feeling as if she were moving in an odd sort of slow motion. She’d begun the day as an anxious, single mother-to-be. Only a few hours later, she found herself engaged to be married to a man who was busily planning their future while she still reeled from his proposal.

He let himself out, closing the door behind him. With a little sigh, Stevie started to turn away. She paused with a start when the door swept open again. Cole stepped back inside, his expression rueful.

“That was a lousy way to conclude our conversation, wasn’t it?” he asked. “I think I can do much better.”

Before she quite realized his intention, he gathered her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers.

As first kisses went, especially with such little fanfare, this one was impressive. Solid and sturdy, Cole enveloped her, engulfed her. Every feminine nerve ending inside her responded to that potent masculinity with a rush of sensation unlike anything she’d experienced before.

She was kissing Cole! Or he was kissing her. And if ever she had contemplated what it might be like to do so—and she’d imagined it on more than a few occasions, just for curiosity—the reality was more explosive than she could ever have predicted. How could she possibly have suspected that the quiet numbers cruncher next door kissed like a dashing pirate?

His lips were firm, warm, skilled. The hint of his late-day beard was pleasantly rough against her softer skin. He tasted of sexy, spicy, virile male; a potent combination that made her suddenly, unexpectedly hungry for more. She couldn’t quite hold back the tiny murmur of protest when he drew his mouth a couple inches from hers, breaking the contact.

Cole looked almost as dazed as she felt when their gazes locked. And then he swooped in for another taste, and she discovered to her amazement that the first kiss hadn’t been a fluke. She couldn’t have said how long it lasted, or which of them moved closer to deepen the kiss, to press their bodies together. She couldn’t help noticing that Cole was tautly aroused as he thrust his tongue between her parted lips for a more thorough exploration.

How long had this embrace been building? Hours? Days? Months? Was it possible she wasn’t the only one who’d wondered what it would be like, who’d secretly wished to find out?

She didn’t realize she was gripping his shirt in both white-knuckled fists until he finally, firmly set her back a step, carefully untangling her fingers from the now-wrinkled fabric. Wow. Did she say that aloud or was the word just echoing in her otherwise blank mind?

His face a bit flushed, Cole shifted his weight uncomfortably, then cleared his throat before saying, “Well. That was...reassuring.”

She blinked, not entirely sure how to respond to that comment. It wasn’t the adjective she’d have chosen to describe the embrace. Amazing, maybe. Spectacular. Toe-curlingly stimulating, even. But...reassuring?

After only a moment, Cole chuckled huskily, gave her shoulder a little squeeze, then opened the door. “I’ll call you later. If you need anything in the meantime, you know where to find me.”

The door closed behind him again and this time it stayed shut. Stevie stood without moving for what seemed like a very long time. In a daze, she pushed her hair from her overwarm face.

As she turned slowly back into her living room, she felt as if she should pinch herself to make sure she was really awake. Either this was one truly bizarre dream, or she’d just agreed to marry her next-door neighbor. Tomorrow!

Stevie could usually pack for a week in a carry-on bag, and rarely spent more than a few minutes deciding what to take. Yet it took her more than an hour to choose and pack the next day. And all for a two-night trip, she thought with a shake of her head as she stood in the middle of her bedroom, dithering over shoe choices.

It wasn’t as if she needed anything different from her usual informal, somewhat bohemian wardrobe, not in Branson. With its live theaters, shopping malls, themed restaurants, golf courses and arcades, the town nestled in the Ozarks on the banks of sprawling Lake Taneycomo was a cheerfully cheesy tourist magnet.

There hadn’t been a lot of extra money for vacations and travel when she’d been a child, but two or three times each year she and her mother and brother had made the just-over-three-hour road trip to Branson for a relatively inexpensive family weekend. She still had warm memories from those trips, which she’d mentioned to Cole during a couple of their rambling, lengthy chats. Did he remember? Probably. Cole didn’t forget much.

She zipped her suitcase, then frowned at it, wondering if she’d packed enough. No. She wasn’t going to second-guess this. It was only a weekend trip.

It was also her honeymoon, she thought, chewing on her lower lip as she gazed down at her ring. This wasn’t at all what she’d imagined when she’d ever fantasized about a honeymoon.

Was she dressed appropriately for an elopement? Had the weather been warmer, she’d have worn something sleeveless and lacy, perhaps. There was no snow on the ground now, but it was cold enough that she’d have shivered in lace. She’d chosen, instead, a dusky blue sweater dress with black leggings and tall boots. The dress had come from Jenny’s shop, and Jenny had told her the color made her eyes look brighter and bluer. Sometimes she wore a wide belt with it, but she left off the belt this time, accessorizing with a chunky ebony-bead necklace, instead.

Posing in front of the mirror, she looked hard at her midsection. She still doubted anyone could tell her condition just by looking at her. Had she not seen the positive pregnancy test and heard the doctor’s confirmation, she would hardly believe it herself. It still didn’t seem quite real. Nor did the fact that she was going to be a married woman in a few hours.

She opened the silver jewelry box on her dresser to take out the hoop earrings she planned to wear today. As she removed them, a narrow slip of paper caught her attention. She’d saved it from a fortune cookie; she didn’t even remember exactly when, but she’d had it for several years. Something about its message had spoken to her: You will live an unexpected life.

She laughed shortly. “You surely got that right, Confucius.”

Cole was pleased that they were in the car and on the road exactly on the schedule they’d agreed upon. Though he and Stevie hadn’t confided the reason they’d both be out of town for the next two nights, they’d arranged for Lori to check on Dusty tomorrow, so the long weekend was all cleared for their brief honeymoon. Even the weather was cooperating. It was cold, but the roads were dry and the sky a cloudless pale blue. He took that as a good sign.

He was very much aware of how close they sat in the front seats of his SUV. He could reach easily enough across the narrow console to take her hand or rest his on her knee. Because that thought was all too tempting, he tightened his fingers on the steering wheel and tried not to think about the kisses that had left him tossing and turning in his bed most of the night.

He didn’t have to worry about awkward silences during the drive. Though he’d seen the self-consciousness in her eyes when she’d answered the door, Stevie wasn’t the type to be quiet when she was flustered. Just the opposite, actually; she tended to babble. Cole wasn’t sure she took a breath during the first hour of their drive. She chattered about so many random topics he couldn’t even keep up, her hands fluttering around her like restless little birds.

Though he didn’t say much in return—couldn’t have slipped in more than a word or two if he’d wanted to—he didn’t mind her frenetic monologue. Nor did he try to calm her. She had every reason to be jittery. He was a little nervous, himself—not because he had doubts about the plans they’d made, but because he hoped he was up to the massive responsibilities he was taking on. He had to admit he’d assigned himself a daunting task. Torn between bittersweet memories of the past, concerns for the future and frustrated physical desire, he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night.

“Oh, my gosh.” Stevie covered her cheeks with her hands, laughing ruefully. “I’m talking a thousand miles a minute, aren’t I? I haven’t given you a chance to speak at all. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I enjoy listening to you. It makes the drive go by faster.”

“Yes, well, I’ve run out of small talk.”

“Maybe we should discuss some of the decisions we have ahead of us. I made a list last night...”

She chuckled softly. “Of course you did. Should I pull out your trusty notebook?”

He didn’t mind her teasing any more than her chattering. It was all just part of what made up Stevie, and he couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to change her.

“There’s no need,” he said with his own attempt at levity. “I memorized the list.”

It pleased him that she laughed before asking, “Okay, what’s the first item on the agenda?”

He started with an easy question. “How are you feeling? Still no morning sickness?”

“Not a day. Unlike poor Jenny. She said she starting getting sick almost immediately. She didn’t tell us about the pregnancy until Wednesday because she said she was afraid she’d jinx it, but she’s been dealing with morning sickness for a couple of weeks.”

“You’re lucky, then.”

“I suppose.” As if hearing how the words might have sounded, she shook her head quickly. “It’s not that I want to be sick, of course. I just don’t really feel pregnant, you know? I’ve seen the tests and I saw an ultrasound and heard the heartbeat at this week’s doctor’s appointment, but sometimes it still just doesn’t feel real.”

“I can imagine. Well, not really, because it’s not something I’ll ever experience, obviously, but it must be an odd sensation. You said you saw an ultrasound?”

“Yes. I have the printout at home. It’s pretty cool. Still just a little peanut a couple inches long, which I guess is why I’m not really showing yet, but you can see the little arms and legs and some facial features.”

Another ripple of nerves coursed through him at the thought of actually seeing the baby he planned to raise as his own. “Can you tell yet if it’s a boy or a girl?” Not that it mattered to him.

“No, not yet. I’ll have another ultrasound after twenty weeks and we should be able to tell then.”

“Will you want to know then or would you rather be surprised at delivery?”

She laughed wryly. “I wouldn’t be patient enough to wait that long. It’ll be hard enough waiting until the ultrasound to find out.”

Exactly as he’d have expected from her. And, being the type who always liked to be prepared, he felt the same way. “Have you bought any baby supplies yet?”

“Nothing yet. Except...”

“Except?”

“I bought a night-light shaped like a turtle. It’s made to sit on a table beside the crib. The shell glows and there’s a battery backup that keeps it illuminated even if the power goes out. I was afraid of the dark when I was little, and I thought maybe the baby will be, too.”

Curious, he slanted her a sideways glance. “Are you still afraid of the dark?”

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “I still sleep with a flashlight close at hand.”

That surprised him. He hadn’t thought Stevie was afraid of anything. “Is there a particular reason you’re afraid of the dark?”

She hesitated a minute, then sighed. “I’ve always had that tendency, but it got worse when I was nine and Tom was ten and a half. I had a night-light in my room, but I still got scared when I heard funny noises. I didn’t say much about it because Tom made fun of me, and you know how siblings can be.”

“I was an only child, but I saw enough of my friends’ siblings to get the picture.”

“Anyway, Mom had taken a part-time second job working at a hotel desk in the evenings, earning extra money for Tom to get braces. Mrs. Clausen from next door came over to stay with us on those evenings. One night there was a thunderstorm and the power went out. I woke up in a totally dark room and got scared. I called and called, but no one answered and I was certain I was alone in the house—well, except for maybe the monsters under the bed or in the closet,” she added ruefully.

“Where was Mrs. Clausen?” he asked, caught up in the story.

Stevie gave a low laugh that held little humor. “Stuck in the front bathroom. She got flustered in the dark and couldn’t find the door lock. It was probably no more than minutes before she managed to get to me, but it seemed like hours. I was sobbing hysterically by the time she made her way to me.”

“And your brother?”

“Slept through the whole storm.”

“I’m sure you were frightened. That must have been traumatic for you.”

Her hands fluttered again. “I grew up. Got over it to an extent. I still keep a flashlight on the nightstand, but I’m pretty confident now that there are no monsters under the bed or in the closet.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it must be a painful memory but it means a lot that you trust me with it.”

She reached over to pat his thigh, her soft laugh more natural this time. “It was just an anecdote, Cole, not a confession to my priest.”

Reaction to that familiar touch surged through him, but he pushed it away. She had a way of gently poking at him when he got too formal and serious. He covered her hand with his and squeezed before gripping the steering wheel again, silently acknowledging he’d gotten the message. Still, he’d meant every word. If he and Stevie were going to make this work, they had to be honest and open with each other.

Stevie drew her hand away and laced her fingers in her lap. Her voice sounded a bit higher-pitched when she said, “Anyway, Mom stopped working nights after that incident. She bought Tom’s braces on a payment plan. Fortunately my teeth were straight.”

He laughed, then asked, “How do you think your mom will feel about becoming a grandmother?”

“She most definitely won’t be a traditional grandma. She’ll wonder why we’re bothering with what she calls ‘the obsolete and unnecessary institution of marriage.’ I’m sure she’ll come see the baby as soon as she can make arrangements. We gathered in Tennessee at my brother’s house for Christmas, but I didn’t know about the pregnancy then—or hadn’t accepted the possibility yet.”

“I’ll bring her here for your due date, if she’d like to be here. You should have your mother with you.”

“That’s sweet of you, but I’ll buy her ticket. I do okay financially, you know. Well enough to live comfortably, if not extravagantly. As I told you, I’m budgeting for my leave time, so...”

Her voice drifted off with another vague gesture of her hands. A very self-sufficient woman, his wife-to-be. That was only one of the many things he admired about her, though he still hoped she’d let him help her out.

He slanted a sideways glance at her. She looked very pretty today. That blue dress was especially flattering with her blond hair and big blue eyes. The soft knit fabric hugged her curves—and for such a petite woman, she had very nice curves. He cleared his throat, shifted in his seat, and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“I want to buy the kid a stuffed tiger,” he said to distract himself. “Maybe we’ll find one this weekend.”

“A tiger?” Stevie twisted in her seat to look at him.

He nodded. “You had a night-light, I had Stripy. My uncle Bob—my dad’s younger brother—gave him to me when I was four, maybe five. My parents were fighting then, splitting up and getting back together, shuttling me between them and my paternal grandparents. I never knew where I’d be spending the next night or whether my parents would be too quiet or yelling at each other. I started having nightmares, waking up screaming nearly every night. Uncle Bob bought me the tiger to chase away the monsters at night. He was a big Calvin and Hobbes fan. He’d read the comic strips to me from the newspaper.”

“The tiger stopped your nightmares?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t stop them. But when I woke up, Stripy was always there, and it made me feel better. The nightmares stopped after my parents split up for good and we all settled into new, more peaceful routines. I spent most of my childhood on my grandparents’ cattle farm in El Paso, Arkansas, while Mom went back to college. Dad poured his energy into building his car repair business. With the exception of a couple of rocky years, I had a pretty good childhood. But I still have fond memories of Stripy. I think our kid should have one, though I can promise you we’ll never put him—or her—through what my folks did to me. They got married too young, had a baby before they knew what they wanted for themselves. You and I are old enough and realistic enough to avoid all that foolishness.”

“Absolutely,” she said with almost grim determination. “We’ll give him—or her—a stable, safe and secure childhood so he—or she—never has to depend on a night-light or a stuffed toy to chase away the monsters under the bed.”

He frowned for a moment at the road ahead, processing her words as he drove in silence. He knew, of course, that she’d accepted his unexpected proposal for the benefit of her baby, just as the child’s best interests had been a strong consideration for him when he’d offered. But he hoped she didn’t see their marriage as a sacrifice on her part. “I want you to be happy, too, Stevie. We’ll have a good life together. I’ll always be there for you when you need support or encouragement.”

She patted his thigh again, a vaguely unsatisfying gesture this time as it seemed entirely too indulgent. “And when you come back from those dull business trips, Dusty and Li’l Peanut and I will be there to welcome you with hugs and a home-cooked meal.”

“Sounds great,” he said, and meant it. It sounded ideal. He should stop trying to second-guess her thoughts and feelings—he wasn’t good at it, anyway—and just accept his good fortune.

He pushed thoughts of the past away and focused instead on the future. After all, this was the beginning of their life together. He would be spending the weekend with this fascinating, desirable woman...and he planned to make this honeymoon a memory Stevie would always cherish.

Chapter Four

Cole really was an organizational genius, Stevie concluded an hour later. He’d taken care of logistical details for their elopement that hadn’t even yet occurred to her, including the marriage license they dealt with immediately upon their arrival at their wedding destination.

She saw him caught off guard only once during those preparations.

“Stephanie?” he asked in surprise when they’d filled out their license application. “Your full name is Stephanie Joan McLane?”

She wrinkled her nose as she nodded. “Mom named me after Stevie Nicks—whose birth name was Stephanie—and Joan Jett, her two favorite women singers. My brother is Thomas Neil, after Tom Petty and Neil Young. He’s always said it was a good thing Mom wasn’t a country music fan or we might have ended up answering to Dolly and Porter.”

That had made Cole laugh. He had such a rich, deep laugh. She hoped to hear it often during their upcoming years together, she thought wistfully.

The little wedding chapel he’d reserved was close to the state border, only some forty miles from their honeymoon destination of Branson, Missouri. Located in an old, white-frame church with battered but gleaming wood floors and rows of antique oak pews, it was generously, almost overly, decorated with white silk flowers and big red hearts. Romantic instrumental music played from speakers. A portly, sixtysomething officiate with a beatific smile and twinkling eyes welcomed them warmly, introducing himself as Pastor Dave and his equally plump and smiling wife, Luanne.

“You were very lucky we had this slot available today. Valentine’s Day is our most popular day for elopements, you know,” he confided, pumping Cole’s hand and winking at Stevie. “Got five more weddings scheduled before the day’s done.”

Valentine’s Day. Stevie just barely stopped herself from slapping her hands to her cheeks with a gasp. How flustered had she been today that she’d written the date probably half a dozen times without considering the significance? She’d been vaguely aware that the holiday was upon them, of course, but she hadn’t watched much TV or spent much time on social media during the past few busy, emotionally stressful weeks. How on earth had Cole managed to make wedding and honeymoon reservations in less than twenty-four hours for this particular weekend? He’d assured her they would be staying at a very nice hotel and even had tickets to a couple of popular shows.

Watching him slip a couple of bills to their beaming host, she suspected he’d quietly greased a few palms. And he’d done this all for her. She bit her lower lip, then released it immediately to keep from chewing off her freshly applied gloss. She wanted to look nice in the Elite Matrimonial Photo Package Luanne would take with her digital camera.

“Shall we begin?” Pastor Dave waved a hand toward the altar at the front of the little chapel, looking surreptitiously at the antique clock on the wall behind him as he turned. “You requested the nondenominational religious ceremony, is that correct, Mr. McKellar?”

“Yes,” Cole agreed, glancing at Stevie as if for confirmation.

She managed a smile and a nod, resisting an impulse to nervously twist her hair. No second thoughts, she ordered herself. For once in your life, you’re doing the sensible thing.

“Here you go, Miss McLane.” Luanne pressed three long-stemmed red roses tied together with a white satin ribbon in Stevie’s hand, then stepped back to raise her camera. “Give us a big smile, hon.”

The roses were pretty, part of the Special Deluxe Elopement Package. Holding them gently in her left hand, Stevie set her small handbag on a front pew, rummaged in it for a moment, then turned toward her groom. “I’m ready.”

“When I heard your fine Scottish surnames, I chose a special wedding song just for the two of you,” Pastor Dave confided as he moved to the small lectern at the front of the room. He pressed a couple of buttons and after a brief pause, a bagpipe version of Ode to Joy poured from the overhead speakers. Stevie slanted a glance at Cole to find him smiling down at her in a way that almost elicited a completely inappropriate giggle. She heard the click-click of Luanne’s camera as Pastor Dave began his simple ceremony, barely referring to the little book in his hands as he recited words he must have intoned countless times before.

Somehow she managed to pay attention, and to respond appropriately at the correct times. She smiled faintly when the officiate read her almost-husband’s full name. Cole Douglas McKellar. A fine Scottish name, indeed.

She moistened her lips as Cole’s gaze locked with hers. A ripple of awareness coursed through her at the thought that this attractive, caring and complex man would now be bound to her. They would share a home, a future. A bed. As hectic as the past twenty-four hours had been, she’d hardly had time to even think about that part of their marriage. She realized suddenly that she was looking forward to the journey they’d embarked on together that morning.

What was Cole thinking? Feeling? He looked as at ease as ever. But on closer inspection, was there just a hint of tension in his dark eyes? She had no doubt he was taking these vows very seriously, but was he wondering whether he’d acted on an uncharacteristic and perhaps imprudent impulse? Was he having second thoughts?

Pastor Dave peered at them over the top of his reading glasses. “Do y’all have rings?”

“I do.” Cole drew a white gold band from the pocket of the charcoal sport coat he wore with a pale blue shirt, lighter gray pants and a blue and gray patterned tie. Knowing how much he hated wearing ties, she was touched that he’d gone to the effort of dressing up for this occasion, even though they had no audience for their ceremony other than Pastor Dave and Luanne.

“I have one, too,” she said, opening her left hand to reveal the band she’d taken from her purse. Like hers, it was white gold, his with a brushed finish. She’d bought it that very morning. She’d stopped into a jewelry store in the same business center as her office and taken only a few minutes to select a ring that seemed to suit Cole’s tastes, making a guess at his size. She saw surprise flit fleetingly across his face. Had he thought she’d forgotten to get a ring? Or had he never actually expected to wear a wedding band again?

And here she was, second-guessing his emotions again. She shook her head slightly and slipped the ring on his finger when prompted by Pastor Dave. It fit well enough, not snug but not so loose it would slip off. She saw Cole look down at his hand as if to admire the band there, and she hoped that was a sign that he liked it.

Luanne moved into position behind Pastor Dave with her camera raised as he pronounced them husband and wife. The camera snapped noisily when he added, “Y’all can seal this deal with a kiss now.”

Stevie’s giggle was smothered beneath Cole’s willingly cooperative lips. And while the presence of their approving audience held the kiss in check, she was vividly reminded of the more heated kisses they’d exchanged in private yesterday.

Her heart tripped in her chest. She and Cole would be spending this night together as husband and wife. Judging by the fireworks that went off inside her whenever their lips met, this was going to be a very special honeymoon, indeed!

Cole had made a reservation at a nice hotel just off Branson’s main thoroughfare. Stevie’s palms felt damp as she followed him into the elevator for the ninth floor. Apparently she’d been so focused on the impromptu wedding that she hadn’t looked much farther ahead. She certainly hadn’t anticipated how nervous she would be at the prospect of officially beginning their honeymoon! Nervous—but excited, she realized with a flutter of anticipation.

Cole swiped the key card without looking around at her, then moved out of the way to allow her to precede him into the room. Suite, she corrected herself when she walked in and looked around. In addition to a king-sized bed and a small table with two chairs, there was a pretty little sitting area with what she assumed to be a sleeper sofa and an armchair. Her attention was drawn almost immediately back to that huge bed. She hoped Cole didn’t hear her hard swallow.

Cole set down their bags before turning to her. Though she couldn’t stop glancing toward the bed, he seemed to be making an effort to avoid looking at it. “Would you like to change before dinner, or are you good in what you’re wearing?” he asked.

“This is fine, thanks.”

“You don’t mind if I get rid of this tie, do you?” He was already tugging at the knot.

She smiled. “I’m surprised you kept it on this long. By all means, make yourself comfortable. It’s not like ties are the typical dress code for Branson.”

He shed both jacket and tie and pulled a navy V-neck sweater from his bag to tug over his pale blue shirt. “That’s better,” he said with a sigh of such relief that she had to laugh.

She reached up to smooth his hair, resisting an urge to play in it for a bit. She really did love his springy dark hair.

Aware again of that big bed behind her, she dropped her hand and took a step back. “So. Dinner?”

Was his smile just a bit strained when he nodded? “Dinner,” he said, and motioned toward the door.

Carrying a plastic mug shaped like a cowboy boot, Stevie reentered the hotel room later that evening with a slightly weary sigh. It had been a long, momentous day after an early start, and she was tired, but not in a bad way. On a whim, she retrieved the three red roses she’d stuck into a glass of water earlier and transferred them to the souvenir boot mug. The blooms were already starting to wilt, but she set them prominently in the center of the table, stepping back to admire them while Cole hung up their coats.

He turned to study her makeshift centerpiece, then pushed a hand through his hair, speaking wryly. “So, your wedding night festivities consisted of sitting on benches in an arena, eating pork and chicken and corn on the cob with our hands, while entertainers did tricks on horseback for the dinner show.”

She giggled. He was not exaggerating. “Maybe the place didn’t offer silverware, but the food was delicious and the show was fun.”

Cole looked as though he tried to smile in response, but he wasn’t very successful at it. Taking a step toward her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gazed down at her gravely. “I feel as though I should apologize.”

She felt her eyebrows rise. “For...?”

“I doubt very much that this was the wedding experience of your dreams. A one-day engagement. Pastor Dave and Luanne. Two nights in a town that’s basically one big amusement park. A wedding night barbecue dinner shared at a long table with a group of senior citizens who came from Wisconsin on a tour bus. Not exactly a tropical resort or a European villa.”

“I happened to enjoy that dinner,” she assured him, letting her hands rest on his chest. “And the sweet little old man sitting at my other side kept me laughing all through the meal and the show. It was a pleasure to share a bench with him.”

“He was flirting with you.”

“Yes, he was. He said he’s ninety, but he still has an eye for the ladies. He asked me to run away with him after dessert. I told him I would have, but I’m a married woman now.”

She felt Cole’s fingers flex on her shoulders in response to those words, perhaps a subconscious reaction. Probably he was still adjusting to the reality of being a married man again after so many years of bachelorhood. That was certainly understandable.

“I’m glad you didn’t run off with the old guy,” he said, a slight smile now softening his troubled expression.

Aware of how closely they were standing, she moistened her lips. It would require only a slight shift of her weight and she could be in his arms, cradled against that warm, strong chest. She shifted her hands a bit, savoring the feel of firm muscles beneath his soft sweater. Her shiny new rings glinted on her left ring finger. “So am I.”

His gaze lowered, and if she wasn’t mistaken he focused intently on her mouth. What was he thinking? she wondered. Before she could ask, he blinked, and the moment was over. He glanced at the bed, and those brown eyes darkened. Frowning, he turned his head to look at the sofa bed in the sitting area. “It’s been an eventful day. I’m sure you’re tired. You can take the big bed. I can sleep on the sofa bed.”

“Cole.” She tightened her grip on his sweater as she interrupted. It was apparent that he was trying so hard to keep his tone casual and considerate, careful not to cause her any discomfort or embarrassment on their wedding night. Nerves danced frantically beneath her skin, but she held his gaze steadily. “First, you need to understand that you don’t owe me apologies for today. We had a lovely wedding. The dinner show made me laugh, which I always appreciate. I expect to have a fun weekend with you here in a place that holds many happy childhood memories for me. It doesn’t take a tropical resort or a European villa to make me happy.”

He cupped her cheek with one hand. “Maybe you don’t need them, but you deserve them. I’d like to take you to both someday. In the meantime, if there’s anything special you want to do while we’re here this weekend, just let me know.”

He was trying so hard to please her. Very sweet, but unnecessary. She wasn’t that high maintenance.

Her hands still clutching his soft sweater, she rose slowly on tiptoes, trying to read his expression as she brought her mouth close to his. Did he truly want to spend their wedding night on the sofa bed? Perhaps they’d entered a marriage of convenience based on building a stable family for this child and for themselves—but he needed to know she considered it a real marriage. She didn’t think either of them would be satisfied for long being nothing more than friendly roommates. She knew she wouldn’t.

Now that she’d allowed herself to acknowledge her attraction to him, just standing this close to him made her skin tingle, her pulse accelerate. And from the way his eyes darkened as she moved closer to him, it was clear he had healthy desires of his own. Though he’d kept his private life to himself for the most part, and rarely confided details of where he went on his nights out with friends, she’d never thought of her quiet neighbor as monk-like.

“Thank you for taking care of everything this weekend for us, Cole,” she murmured against his lips. “You’ve done a wonderful job.”

She kissed him before he could respond.

Fueled by simmering emotions, by nerves and uncertainties, hopes and resolve, the kiss was spectacular. Stevie threw herself into it, pushing away thoughts and doubts in favor of feelings and sensations.

When she pressed her abdomen to the gratifyingly hard ridge in his pants, he froze, then broke off the kiss as if he’d abruptly come to his senses. “I, uh...”

He cleared his throat, hard, his hands on her shoulders. To keep her close? Or to hold her away? He looked as though even he wasn’t quite sure of his intentions.

“Look, Stevie, I know I rushed us into all of this. I mean, I tend not to waste much time when I get a good idea, but now that we’ve taken care of the formalities, there’s certainly no pressure for you to...we have the rest of our lives to...I mean, just so you know, when the time is right, I’m here for you, but—”

“Cole,” she said again, reaching up to lay her fingers against his clever mouth. It was so rare to see him flustered and babbling. She couldn’t help being both amused and charmed. “We’re married. We made promises to each other in that chapel today in front of Pastor Dave and Luanne. I want to share a bed with my husband, if he’s interested.”

“I’m interested.” Cole’s voice was husky. “Been interested for longer than I’ve wanted to admit.”

A part of her had known, she thought as she took his hand. Just because they hadn’t acknowledged the attraction didn’t mean it hadn’t always been there.

She took his hand and moved a step backward toward the big bed. Looking up at him through her lashes, she smiled. “I’m very happy to hear that.”

She was already tugging at the hem of his sweater. Judging from touch alone, those clothes hid a seriously fine body. Plus, there’d been that brief glimpse of a chiseled chest the day he’d changed the light bulb. Now she was eager to explore it more closely. His hands joined hers where she worked at the buttons of his shirt, and she left him to finish while she shed her boots.

They tossed their clothes aside quickly as impatience took over. But she had the presence of mind to glimpse at his body as he revealed it. She took in the strong planes of his back and chest and the rock-hard muscles of his thighs. He stopped at a pair of boxers, and she was denied the full view she anticipated. Before she could remove her underwear he stepped forward and took her in his arms, tumbling her onto the pillows, his mouth on hers as their limbs tangled. He was so warm. Solid. Being in his arms was like being wrapped in armor. She felt safe. Protected. It was a novel feeling for someone who’d spent her whole life taking care of herself and taking care of others. Quite a seductive sensation in itself—not to mention how very good he felt on top of her.

For a man who spent so much time working on computers, Cole McKellar kept himself in excellent physical condition. And he proved very quickly that he knew exactly what to do with that great body.

It was no surprise to her at all that he was a thorough and unselfish lover, two adjectives that seemed the perfect description of the man she’d come to know during the past year. Now that they were in the bed, he took his time, lingering and savoring as he explored, caressed, tantalized, then unhurriedly moved on. He was so gentle at first, so obviously intent not to cause her discomfort. She was the one who lost patience, growling beneath her breath and tugging at him until he got the message with a low, willing laugh.

He stripped her bra, his hands moving more eagerly, less carefully now over her breasts as he revealed them. Then he slowly, excruciatingly slowly, slipped off her panties, dragging his fingers down her legs as he pulled them off. When he returned to hover over her, she wasted no more time. To convince him she was neither fragile nor shy, she matched his kiss hungrily, letting her tongue tangle with his. She slipped one leg around him and in one smooth motion his body merged with hers. Her breath escaped in a gasp of pleasure, echoed by Cole’s deep groan. He brought her other leg around him and went even deeper, and she welcomed him into her. Moving with him in an age-old rhythm, she built inexorably toward a powerful climax, one so intense that she could not think or speak or even moan. Just feel.

He followed her immediately, and from the contented groan he gave right before his release, she reasoned he felt the same.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Stevie,” she heard him murmur some time later, after he’d recovered enough breath to speak. Not quite to the point of speech, herself, she merely smiled sleepily and nestled contentedly into his bare shoulder.

Cole lay awake for some time after Stevie slept. He hadn’t yet turned off the small lamp in the sitting area, and there was just enough light in the room for him to see her sprawled bonelessly beside him in the big bed, clutching her pillow into a ball with both arms. Her blond curls tumbled riotously around her shoulders, partially hiding her face, though he could see that her lips were parted in what he thought looked like a soft little smile. She looked sated and utterly relaxed. Though he hadn’t been presumptuous enough to predict the evening would end this way, it had come as no surprise to him to discover that, along with her many other attributes and eccentricities, Stevie was a passionate and sensual woman.

In those fantasies that had haunted his nights since he’d gotten to know Stevie, he’d always imagined that making love with her would be an adventure. Hard as it was to believe, the reality had been even more spectacular. Fact was, just looking at her sleeping now made him harden again, already impatient to see if it would be just as mind-blowing the next time. He’d never met anyone quite like Stevie. Being on the receiving end of her enthusiastic passion was decidedly flattering. A heady ego boost for an innately introverted computer nerd. He couldn’t help but smile.

A guy could spend a lifetime getting to know and appreciate all the facets of Stevie. He lifted his left hand, and the band on his finger gleamed softly in the dim light. He wasn’t at all sorry he’d signed up for this mission. He just hoped he could keep up with her and make sure she never regretted accepting his proposal.

He wasn’t her usual artistic type. He was no poet. Couldn’t play a musical instrument. Sang like a bullfrog. Couldn’t draw a stick figure. He had no expectations of sweeping Stevie off her feet. But he liked the image he’d formed of their future together, the one she’d described for him earlier—coming home from his business trips to a house filled with warmth and light, to the welcome of a woman who rarely stopped chattering and whose laughter was infectious. To a child’s hugs and what-did-you-bring-mes?

He would do his best to make Stevie happy with what he had to offer in return for the family he’d thought he’d never have. He’d be there for her, take care of her even when she didn’t know she needed it. That was what he did.

As for what he would receive in return . . . He brushed a light kiss against her warm, damp cheek, certain he’d gotten the best of this bargain. In addition to the cozy family home he’d just envisioned, he had more nights in bed with Stevie to look forward to. Considering how spectacular their first time had been, he was eagerly anticipating the next. He had a feeling he had just begun to explore all the fascinating facets of this woman who was now his wife.

After a surprisingly sound night’s sleep, Stevie woke slowly, stretching and yawning before she opened her eyes to find Cole watching her with a smile. A little gasp escaped her before her sleep-clouded mind cleared enough to remind her of why he was there.

He reached out to touch her arm. “That’s twice in the past week I’ve startled you out of sleep. I feel as though I should apologize again.”

Rubbing her eyes, she laughed ruefully. “It’s not your fault. I just tend to wake up disoriented.”

“I’ll keep that in mind in the future,” he murmured.

She blinked a few times at the reminder of a future that included him now. “Oh, my gosh!”

His left eyebrow rose. “What?”

Struggling to sit up, she pushed at her tangled hair with a rueful little laugh. “Like I said, I wake up disoriented. I just remembered we got married yesterday.”

Rising onto his elbow, he looked at her with both brows lifted now. A grin tugged tentatively at the corners of his lips, though he looked as if he wasn’t sure whether he should laugh. “I’m not surprised you’re befuddled. It all happened pretty fast.”

She smiled to show him she recognized the humor in her admission. “You could say that again. Thursday morning I woke up thinking I’d be a single mom and by Friday afternoon I was a married woman. I mean, I’ve acted on impulse more than a few times in my life, but—oh, my gosh.”

He did chuckle then. “You think it’s hard for you to believe? Even after I’d spent several days considering the idea, I didn’t really expect to be married within twenty-four hours of proposing. It just sort of happened. I’m not calling it an impulse, though. More like a plan of action expedited for maximum benefit.”

Laughing, she cupped his face in her hands and murmured against his lips, “I just love it when you talk all analyst-y.”

“I’m not sure that’s a—”

She kissed him before he could finish the sentence.

Showing that he was still open to spontaneity—or, as he would consider it, efficiently taking advantage of an impromptu opportunity—he flipped her onto her back and rolled on top of her. Her delighted laughter quickly changed to murmurs of pleasure as he proved once again that her math genius husband was as clever with his mouth and hands as he was with that brilliant mind.

They enjoyed a leisurely breakfast at a farmhouse-style diner, during which Stevie chattered about trips to Branson as a child with her mother and brother. Cole mentioned that he’d visited only a few times himself, the first trip as a very young boy with his parents during one of their attempts to act the part of happy family—an attempt she surmised hadn’t been particularly successful, though he didn’t elaborate.

Taking advantage of a chilly, but otherwise beautiful day, they wandered through attractions and shops after breakfast. They were strolling at a leisurely pace through an outlet shopping center when Cole drew her into a store that specialized in baby supplies. An odd feeling gripped her as she drifted down the aisles beside him, rather intimidated by all the merchandise surrounding them. There seemed to be so much of it, so many options, colors, sizes. Was all this stuff necessary for one little baby? She didn’t even know what some of these things were. Insecurity rose up in her. Shouldn’t she know?

“Stevie? Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

She tried to force a reassuring smile for Cole, who gazed down at her in concern. “Just a little overwhelmed. I don’t even know how to use most of this stuff.”

He placed a hand on the small of her back. “You’ll learn what you need to know.”

She wished she felt as confident as he sounded. She gave a determined nod. “I’ll learn.”

“Have you decided which bedroom will be the nursery?”

“The one I’ve been using as a guest room, I suppose—the one that was mine growing up. It’s close to the master, and I’ve been using the third bedroom as a home office. Um, my house is a little bigger than yours, so it makes sense for us to set up there, right?”

He nodded. “I can keep my office in my house for now, but we’ll probably want to discuss combining our households into a larger place eventually. One that will accommodate two offices and a guest room.”

She wasn’t ready to discuss selling or buying houses just then. It was a given that they would live together in one house, of course. After all, they were married.

She changed the subject quickly when she spotted a white wicker bassinet with a sage-and-off-white chevron-stripe liner. “Oh, look, Cole. Isn’t it pretty?”

“That’s the same color green you’ve used in your house, isn’t it?”

“Sage. It’s my favorite.” She was already stroking the little bed, picturing it in a sage-and-cream nursery suitable to either gender. She could find some vintage nursery prints to frame for the walls, and invest in a comfortable nursing chair in a soft nubby fabric with one of her late maternal grandmother’s hand-knit throws draped over the back. The turtle night-light would sit on an antique nightstand beside the crib. Perfect. “And look, it’s on sale!”

This little basket was definitely going home with her.

“I’ve got this.” Cole was already signaling for assistance from a clerk. “Is there anything else you want here? What about that little bouncy seat thing over there? The pad is the same shade of green, right? One of my friends swore his daughter was only happy when she was sitting in her bouncy seat after nursing. There’s room in the back of the SUV for both the bassinet and that, if you like it. Maybe a few other items, if you see anything else you want.”

He was already reaching for his wallet. Stevie shook her head, moving to stand between him and the bassinet. “No, I’ve got it. You’ve done enough already this weekend.”

“Not that much,” he assured her. “I’ve provided a honeymoon of sorts for my bride. Now I’d like to get a few things for the baby.”

“No. I want to buy this.”

He went still, frowning as he studied her firmly determined expression. “Why?”

“Because it’s my—” Realizing what she’d almost said, she bit her tongue before she could complete the blurted sentence.

Cole’s hand fell to his side and he took a step back. His voice turned cool. “All right. Get what you want and I’ll help you load it into the car.”

She’d hurt his feelings. Guilt flooded through her with the realization. That had been the last thing she’d wanted to do. She needed Cole to understand that though their marriage was based on his selfless offer to help her raise this child, she had no intention of taking advantage of his innate generosity. She’d been independent for more than a decade. She’d married him to be a partner to her, not for financial support. They hadn’t had time yet to talk about money or the other day-to-day responsibilities of marriage, but she knew it wasn’t going to be easy for her to adjust to his new role in her life. To learn to lean on someone else for a change.

Before she could figure out how to apologize for her thoughtlessness, a salesclerk approached with a bright, friendly smile. “Can I help you?”

Conceding that this was the wrong time and place for a momentous discussion, Stevie purchased the bassinet and bouncy seat, then helped Cole carry them to his SUV. She wondered if he’d be mad at her, but quickly found he’d masked any feelings behind an easy smile. He even teased her about having to leave his suitcase behind if they bought much more on this trip. Apparently he was determined to put their brief clash behind them, intent on keeping this day a pleasant one. She was glad; it was their honeymoon, after all. Practical discussions could wait until later.

Glancing at his watch, he asked if she wanted to eat dinner before the musical variety show they would be attending that evening.

“Oh, my gosh, yes!” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I’m starving. I’d never make it through the show without food. For the past couple of weeks, it seems like I’m hungry all the time.”

He chuckled and opened her door for her. “As the old saying goes, you’re eating for two now. What would you like?”

“Anything that sounds good to you. I’m not picky.”

“We’ll even find a place with silverware this evening,” he assured her, then closed the door.

Watching him round the front of the SUV to the driver’s seat, she was relieved he’d put that momentary awkwardness behind them so easily. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. Cole wasn’t one to let emotions rule his actions, something that was difficult for her even when she wasn’t flooded with early-pregnancy hormones.

This was all going to work out, she promised herself. It was only to be expected that there would be some compromises in the process. But now that they’d gotten this first minor clash out of the way, she just knew the rest of their honeymoon would be nothing but enjoyable.

Cole stood beside the bed a few hours later, feeling helpless as Stevie curled into a ball and moaned. He’d dimmed the lights for her comfort, but even in the shadows her skin still seemed to have a slightly green tint to it. “Is your stomach still upset?”

The only response to his tentative question was another heartfelt groan.

He moved to the sink where he dampened a washcloth with cold water, then carried it back to her. “Let me put this on your throat. My grandma used to do that for me when I was nauseated and it always seemed to help.”

She shifted on the thick pillows and allowed him to press the cloth gently to her throat. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her eyes squeezed shut. “I didn’t mean for the evening to end this way.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m just sorry you’re ill. Are you sure we shouldn’t have you checked by a doctor?”

She shook her head and managed a weak smile as she peered up at him through barely cracked eyelids. “No. It’s just nausea. I guess I bragged too soon about not being sick a day so far. At least we made it to the end of the show.”

But only just, he thought with a wry shake of his head. He’d noticed Stevie had seemed subdued at intermission. At first he’d wondered if it was because he’d somehow annoyed her at the baby supplies store earlier, though they’d gotten along fine during dinner. But she’d confided that she was feeling a little queasy, so he’d bought her a soda to sip while the energetic young singers and dancers had taken the stage for the second half. He’d only halfway paid attention to the stage, surreptitiously watching Stevie instead as she’d wilted visibly in her seat. He’d all but carried her to the car afterward, and she’d barely made it into the room before bolting into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her. When she’d reemerged, it was only to collapse on the bed, still fully clothed.

He slipped off her shoes and set them on the floor. “Would you like to put on your nightgown?”

Her eyes were closed again, but he thought there might be a bit more color in her face now. “I’ll change in a minute,” she murmured.

He moved to the dresser. She’d brought a couple of nightgowns—one made of black satin, the other a warmer purple knit splashed with cheery red flowers. As diverse as the two garments were, each somehow seemed perfectly suited to Stevie. Though his hand lingered for a moment on the black one, he pulled out the more comfortable-looking gown and carried it to the bed. “Here, let me help you,” he said.

A few minutes later, she was snugly tucked into the bed, the washcloth redampened and draped again on her throat. “Can I get you anything else? Some more soda?”

She shifted on the piled pillows, moistening her lips. “Maybe a little.”

Sitting beside her on the bed, he handed her the glass of citrusy soda he’d purchased from a vending machine down the hall. She took a couple of sips, then gave it back to him. “Thanks. I feel better now. Just tired.”

“I’ll sleep on the sofa bed.”

She shook her head and patted the bed next to her. “I’m hardly contagious. You’ll be much more comfortable here in this king-sized bed than on that fold-out.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, considering she’d be snoozing beside him, temptingly close but needing her rest. Still, as she’d said, it was a big bed. It had been a long time since he’d shared a bed with anyone, and he had to admit he liked the feel of a warm, soft body next to him even if only in sleep.

She was mostly out by the time he climbed in beside her, taking care not to jostle the mattress or otherwise disturb her. He’d hardly settled onto the pillows before she turned and snuggled into him, her hair tickling his chin, her small hand resting on his chest. He wore pajama bottoms and a T-shirt, but he could feel her warmth through the fabric. Too warm? He rested a hand lightly against her face, reassuring himself that she wasn’t running a fever.

“I’m fine,” she murmured drowsily, and he wasn’t sure she was actually awake. “I just never want to smell popcorn again.”

He stroked a wayward curl off her cheek. There was no need to reply. She wouldn’t have heard him, anyway, as she’d already drifted off again.

On impulse, he pressed a light kiss on the top of her head, then tried to relax. It wasn’t easy. Even discounting the distraction of having her in his arms, he was having trouble turning off his thoughts. He kept replaying the day, from the exhilarating wake-up sex to that terse exchange in the baby store. He still wasn’t sure exactly why she’d taken such exception to his offer to buy the bassinet and seat. He wasn’t very good at reading emotional cues, being the type who preferred issues plainly spelled out. But he thought maybe he’d unwittingly stepped on her pride.

He hadn’t tried to imply that she wasn’t capable of providing for her child. He hadn’t been trying to take charge or insist on having his own way. He’d simply wanted to show her that he shared her excitement about the baby.

Her baby, he reminded himself with a wince. It had been clear enough what she’d started to say before she’d swallowed the words. For all her talk about sharing the child with him, about commitment mattering more to her than biology, for all the nervous enthusiasm she’d shown so far toward their marriage even to the point of eagerly consummating their wedding night, there was still a part of herself she was holding back from him. A self-protective door that she hadn’t yet unlocked, perhaps because of her past disappointments. And she didn’t yet trust him enough to open that door for him.

He had to admit it had hurt when she’d snapped at him. When he’d realized what she’d almost said. Her baby. Not theirs. The words had hit him like a blow, though he’d tried to hide his reaction to keep the peace.

Because he wasn’t one to dwell on injured feelings, he relied instead on his usual method for dealing with uncomfortable emotions. Objective analysis. He needed to be patient. This was all so new for both of them. In the long run, he still believed he and Stevie would make a success of this marriage. That they and the child they’d raise together would have a good life. A contented life.

He’d have to proceed cautiously, prove to her that he was here for the long term. That he would not walk away from her when life got difficult. With time, he would convince her that she could trust him completely. And that she and her child—their child—could rely on him. Always.

Chapter Five

The pale winter sunlight just seeped around the edges of the window curtains when Stevie woke Sunday morning. She turned her head to find Cole still sleeping beside her. Had he lain awake awhile after she’d fallen asleep? She certainly hadn’t intended to cut their second night short that way. She was just relieved she’d made it through to the end of the show.

She slid carefully from the bed and padded into the bathroom, silently closing the door behind her. Fortunately there was no nausea this morning, so she felt much more herself when she emerged a few minutes later. She tiptoed back into the room, but it turned out not to be necessary. Cole was awake, propped against the pillows with his hands behind his head, watching her as she stepped into the room.

Smoothing her palms down the front of her red-flowered purple gown, she smiled at him. “Hey.”

“Hey. Feeling better?” His voice was a deep, sleep-roughened rumble in the quiet room. Her throat closed in response.

He’d been so sweet last night when she’d been ill, taking care of her without hesitation. He had a lot of experience as a caregiver, of course—but she wasn’t accustomed to being the one on the receiving end. She felt a sudden need to assure him that she really was fully recovered.

“I feel great this morning,” she said as she approached the bed.

“The color’s back in your cheeks and your eyes are bright again.” He nodded in satisfaction as he studied her face. “You looked wrung out last night.”

“Here’s a hint, Cole.” She sat on the bed beside him and leaned over him, her hands on his chest. “Don’t mention that your new bride looked sickly on her honeymoon.”

He chuckled and ran his hands up her arms. “Sorry. If it makes any difference, I still had trouble keeping my hands to myself when I helped you into this nightgown.”

“Yes, that’s much better,” she assured him, giving in to an impulse to run a hand through his thick tousled hair. “Did I mention I’m perfectly fine now?”

With a grin, he tugged her into his arms. “I’m happy to hear that. For several reasons.”

Her laughter was smothered by his hungry kiss.

Holding a bag in one hand, Stevie looked around the hotel room as they prepared to depart later that morning, her gaze lingering for a moment on the big bed. She found herself suddenly reluctant to leave this private retreat. Reality waited outside this door—the tasks of informing all their friends and families of their marriage and dealing with the reaction, figuring out how to combine their households, learning to live together, coordinating schedules in preparation for the baby’s arrival...

She took a deep breath and stopped listing the tasks before she became completely overwhelmed. One step at a time, Stevie.

Cole stepped up behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Ready to go?”

“No.”

His fingers tightened reassuringly for a moment. “It will be fine.”

She smiled faintly up at him. “I know. But it’s been nice here.”

He leaned his head down to brush a kiss over her lips. “I’d like to stay longer, too,” he admitted when he stepped back. “Unfortunately...”

“The honeymoon is over,” she finished, turning toward the door.

Cole gave a little grimace. “Maybe I wouldn’t have phrased it quite that way,” he murmured as he opened the door to the hallway.

Giving him a look of wry apology, she preceded him out of the room.

“Is there anything else you want to do before we head out of town?” he asked after a leisurely breakfast.

“Yes.”

“More shopping? Another show?”

She smiled. “Let’s just say it will involve a wager.”

She noted that he looked both intrigued and a little wary in response, which made her laugh.

An hour later, she faced him with her shoulders squared, chin held confidently high. “Well? Still feeling good about that bet?”

“Pretty sure that was an unfair challenge.” Cole tilted his head as he eyed her in suspicion. “How many times have you played this course?”

Smiling nostalgically, she glanced around the indoor miniature golf course. The large space was dimly illuminated. Two eighteen-hole courses were lit by low walkway lights with multicolored plastic shades. Tiny fairy lights were strung in greenery arranged to replicate a nighttime garden setting. Tinkly new age music played from hidden speakers, and water splashed in artificial streams and falls, creating a mystical ambiance that explained why the few other players on this Sunday morning spoke in quiet tones, their laughter politely muted.

Holding putters, Stevie and Cole faced each other across the tee of the eighteenth hole. Only one stroke separated their scores, the advantage hers.

“I can’t remember how many times, exactly,” she said in answer to his question. “But every time Mom brought us to Branson for vacations, Tom and I begged her to let us play in here and in the arcade down the hall. We always bet on the outcome—doing dishes for a week, putting away the laundry, various household chores. Mom wouldn’t let us bet money.”

“You still haven’t told me what we’re wagering,” he reminded her, his tone indulgent. “And by the way, I don’t actually mind doing household chores.”

“So, what are you offering if I win?”

He gave it a moment’s thought, taking advantage of having no one behind them and waiting to play to stretch out the teasing conversation. “If you win, I’ll wash and detail your car when we get home.”

Having known her for a year, he was aware of how much she hated washing her car, and it was especially dirty after last week’s snow and mud. “Ooh. Interesting.”

He chuckled, tossing and catching his bright yellow golf ball in his right hand. “And what will you do for me if I win?”

She bit her lower lip for a moment in thought, then spread her hands, offering a vague pledge she was pretty sure she wouldn’t have to make good. “If you win, I’ll owe you a favor to be redeemed at your discretion. You name it.”

His eyebrows rose. “Sounds intriguing. But you look awfully confident you won’t have to pay up. You’re pretty good at this next hole, huh?”

“Scared?”

He dark eyes gleamed with amusement. “Maybe.”

He really was cute. More relaxed than she’d been in weeks, she grinned back at him. “Well?”

He swept a hand toward the course. “Take your shot.”

Already picturing her car all shiny and clean, inside and out, she bent to place her hot pink golf ball on the rubber mat. As she did so, she glanced over her shoulder at Cole. Was he admiring the curve of her bottom? He looked away quickly and she thought his face might have flushed just a little, though it was hard to tell in the shadowy venue. Biting her lip against a smile, she stood and lined up her shot.

A short while later, she walked out of the golf course into a big indoor breezeway, still shaking her head in disbelief. Smiling from ear to ear, Cole wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “So now you owe me a big favor.”

“I still can’t believe you got a hole in one. And that I whiffed that last putt. Are you sure you weren’t just taking it easy on me on the first seventeen holes?”

“I just got lucky with the hole in one, and you only missed your second putt by a half inch.”

“So what’s my penalty? Have you decided what you want for the bet you won?”

“Not yet. I’ll let you know when I think of it.”

She looked up at him through her lashes, enjoying his lazily teasing mood despite her pretend pouting. “Now I’m the one who’s scared.”

He laughed softly and gave her shoulders a little squeeze. “Don’t worry, Stevie, I won’t have you wash my car.”

She made a show of wiping her brow in relief, drawing another laugh from him.

In addition to the mini golf courses and arcade, the building housed a restaurant, a couple of small theaters and several gift shops. Stevie paused to admire a display of scarves, momentarily tempted by their bright colors, sparkly threads and fluttering fringe. Making herself turn away without buying, she looked around for Cole, spotting him standing in front of a display of stuffed animals.

He held a stuffed tiger in his right hand when she joined him. The toy looked quite suitable for an infant, more funny than fierce, incongruously whimsical in Cole’s strong hand.

She smiled. “You found a tiger.”

He nodded, his expression a little odd. “It caught my eye.”

Still he didn’t move. She lifted her eyebrows in question. “Are you buying it?”

“Is that okay with you?”

She didn’t know whether to sigh or wince in response to his hesitation. “Of course it’s okay with me. I think it’s adorable.”

“Then I’ll get it. A souvenir of our honeymoon for the kid.”

She chewed her lower lip as she watched him pay for the toy. Had she overreacted about the bassinet yesterday? Or had she merely shown that her independence hadn’t changed simply because she now wore Cole’s ring on her left hand?

Transaction complete, Cole turned to her. “Ready to head home?”

Forcing a smile, she nodded. “I guess it’s time.”

They shared a long look before moving in unison toward the exit. Stevie wondered if Cole had been able to read the emotions in her eyes better than she’d been able to decipher his. Probably. She seemed to be an open book to him, while she saw only what he chose to reveal to her.

She figured she had years ahead of her to figure him out. It might just take that long.

They were halfway back to Little Rock when Cole cleared his throat to catch Stevie’s attention. She’d been gazing out the side window at the winter-bleak scenery, but barely paying attention to the landmarks. She knew she’d been uncharacteristically quiet, her thoughts focused on the busy and complicated days ahead of them.

“Stevie?”

She glanced around at him when he spoke. “Yes?”

“We’ll be passing my dad’s place in another twenty minutes or so. Would you mind if we stop and say hello? Might as well get this introduction over with. We won’t stay long.”

She noted that he didn’t look particularly enthusiastic about the prospect. “You want me to meet your father? Now?”

He shrugged. “Now’s as good a time as any, since we’ll be passing by, anyway.”

“Should you call and make sure he’s home?”

“He’s home.”

“Should you at least let him know we’re coming?”

“No need. He and I don’t stand on formalities.”

She almost sighed at how little information he was offering, even though he was the one who’d made this suggestion. “Is there anything more I should know before I meet him?”

Cole shrugged. “I don’t expect you to like him very much. Though I guess if anyone could charm Jim McKellar, it would be you.”

It didn’t reassure her that he sounded less than optimistic.

The house was a modest buff brick bi-level half a mile off the highway outside of Conway. A chain-link fence surrounded the closely cropped, but sparsely landscaped yard. Outside the fence was a large graveled lot filled almost to capacity with vehicles of many makes, models and vintages waiting to be serviced in one of the three metal garages, each with three service bays, lining the lot. Only one of the bay doors was open. A sign over a regular-sized door at one end of the nearest building read McKellar Auto Service and beneath that, in smaller letters, Office.

Stevie saw no activity around the business, which was no surprise at almost five p.m. on a Sunday. She expected Cole to park close to the house. Instead, he pulled into an empty parking space in front of the office.

“That door’s up,” he explained when he saw her looking at him in question. “That means he’s working. He’s out here seven days a week unless something unusual comes up. Precisely at five thirty he goes in the house to wash up for dinner, which he eats while he watches the six o’clock newscasts.”

“A man of habit,” she commented.

“Very much so.”

“It looks as though he’s quite successful with his business.”

“Oh, yeah. He’s damned good at what he does. There’s not an engine he can’t tear down and rebuild given the right equipment, and he’s invested wisely in that.”

“Does he ever take vacations? Time off?”

“Not unless someone forces him. There’s nowhere Dad would rather be. What he can’t understand is why I don’t want to be under the hood of a car with him.”

Hearing something in his voice, she tilted her head. “He wanted you to go into the business?”

“Yeah. He’d hoped to turn it over to me someday. I guess he took it personally that I never wanted it.”

“That’s why you and your dad aren’t close? Because you didn’t want his auto repair business?”

“There’ve been other issues, but no need to get into those now. Let’s get this out of the way.” With that grim statement, he opened his door.

Stevie jumped out of her own side without waiting for him to come around. She shivered as cold air surrounded her, seeping through her layered tops and pants. She reached back into the SUV and grabbed her coat, bundling it around her as she followed Cole toward the open bay door. He wore only his pullover and jeans, but he seemed oblivious to the cold even though his breath hung in puffy clouds in front of him as he called out, “Dad?”

In response to Cole’s voice, a man emerged from beneath the raised hood of a battered sedan. Shop lights were trained on the car’s engine, silhouetting the man in their bright beams, and Stevie had to blink to bring him into focus. Wearing an oil-smeared blue uniform shirt, faded jeans and worn work boots, he looked like an older, more sun-grizzled and life-worn version of Cole. He still had a full head of hair, though it had gone mostly silver and was cut considerably closer than Cole’s. He was squarely built, still muscular in his fifties. His dark eyes were deeply set, and the lines of his weathered face seemed to have settled into a permanent scowl.

Wiping his hands on a shop towel, he greeted his son without obvious signs of surprise or pleasure. “Cole.”

“How’s it going, Dad?”

“Can’t complain. You?”

“I’m good.” Cole drew Stevie forward. “There’s someone I want you to meet. This is my wife, Stevie. Stevie, meet my father, Jim McKellar.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McKellar.” She gave him a warm smile and held out her right hand.

She might have expected him to show some surprise, but his expression didn’t change when he glanced at her outstretched hand then back up at her face. “I’m covered in oil,” he said, still scrubbing at his hands with the towel. “Good to meet you, though. When was the wedding?”

If he was hurt that he’d been neither informed ahead of time nor invited to attend, he kept the feeling well hidden. It wasn’t hard to figure out where Cole had learned to mask his emotions.

“We were married Friday,” Cole replied. “We’re on our way home from a short honeymoon in Branson. I thought you’d like to meet Stevie while we were in the area. Is Peggy here? Stevie should meet her, too.”

“Peg’s gone to some sort of program at her church. Won’t be home for a couple hours yet.”

“Next time then.”

Jim looked around uncomfortably. “You, uh, want some coffee or something? Got some left in the office.”

“Not for me. Stevie?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“Guess we could go in the house and sit down,” Jim said, though he glanced tellingly at the car he’d been working on.

“We can’t stay, Dad. Stevie and I both have to work tomorrow, so we should head on home.”

Something flitted briefly across the older man’s face in response to Cole’s reply, but Stevie wasn’t sure if it was relief or a touch of regret. Maybe a complicated mixture of both. Before she could decide, he spoke again. “Glad you stopped by. Congratulations on the marriage. I’ll tell Peg you said hello.”

Cole nodded. “Yeah, give her our best.”

Blinking, Stevie looked in disbelief from son to father and back again. That was it? No hugs or hearty slaps on the back? No questions about how she and Cole had met or when they’d decided to marry? About future plans or current activities? Just “hey, how’s it going, see you later?”

She tossed back her hair and spoke up in a bright tone. “Maybe you and your wife can visit us in Little Rock soon, Mr. McKellar. I’d love to meet her. We could treat you to a nice dinner out, get to know each other better.”

Her determined friendliness seemed to startle him a little. “We, uh, don’t get down that way very often. Guess you can see I’ve got a lot of jobs going. These folks want their cars back as soon as we can get ’em finished.” He cleared his throat, then seemed to feel something more was expected from him. “But y’all can stop by any time. I’m sure Peggy’d like to meet you.”

“We’ll try to get back soon,” Cole said, his tone as stiltedly cordial—and as emotionally distant—as his father’s. “We’re both pretty busy with work for the next few months, which is why we had so little time for a honeymoon. Stevie owns her own kitchen design business and she’s made quite a name for herself in Little Rock.”

Jim nodded, though he didn’t look notably impressed. She suspected he was one of those men who couldn’t imagine there was much more to kitchen design than deciding where to put the refrigerator. He glanced at Cole before asking gruffly, “You still playing around with computers?”

Stevie saw a muscle tighten in Cole’s jaw, but he replied evenly, as if the question was one he’d heard too many times to take offense. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“That was all the boy was ever interested in,” Jim said as an aside to Stevie. “Holin’ up in his room with computer games and such. Couldn’t get him interested in sports or hunting or fishing, and he sure wasn’t getting his hands dirty under the hood of a car.”

Cole placed a hand on Stevie’s arm, though she wasn’t certain if it was for her benefit or his own. “I doubt Stevie wants to hear a list of your disappointments with me, Dad. It’s getting dark, so we’d better get back on the road. I’m sure you want to get back to your work.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed with what might have been a flash of irritation, but he merely nodded and said, “Yeah, I’m trying to finish this one tonight. Y’all take care now.” He turned and picked up a wrench.

Cole turned toward the exit, nudging Stevie to move along with him. She looked back over her shoulder as they walked out, but Jim was hidden behind the car hood again.

They were on the road again for less than ten minutes when Cole sighed gustily. “Okay. Let’s hear it. You’re obviously bursting to express your opinion.”

She’d been all but squirming in her seat, her mind whirling with all the things she wanted to say but wasn’t sure how to articulate. In response to his urging, the words gushed from her in a flood of exasperation. “Are you kidding me? That’s the way you announce to your father that you’ve gotten married? That’s the way he responds? What on earth is wrong with you two?”

Cole didn’t look at all surprised by her outburst. “I gave up trying to answer that question a long time ago. I guess Dad and I are just too different to be close. Not that anyone gets close to my dad. He and Peggy get along well enough, but I’d hardly call their relationship a warm and cozy one. She takes care of the house and stays busy with her church. He works, eats the meals she makes him and watches a little TV before he starts again at daylight the next day. The guys who work for him call him a grouch and a perfectionist, but he pays well enough that most of them have been with him quite a while.”

“So he’s a difficult man. That doesn’t mean you should stop trying to have a relationship with him.”

“I do try, Stevie.” Cole spoke just a bit more sharply this time. “Why the hell do you think I stopped by to introduce you to him? You saw how he acted. Like we were an interruption he had to tolerate before he could get back to work. He couldn’t have cared less.”

She twisted a curl around one finger, growing thoughtful as she replayed the awkward encounter in her mind. “I’m not entirely sure that’s true. I think he did care. And I think maybe he was gruff because his feelings were a little hurt.”

The SUV swerved just a fraction on the road, a clear indication of Cole’s surprise. He gripped the wheel more tightly and focused hard on the road ahead. “You’re way off base there. Why would his feelings, if he had any, be hurt? He was the first person we told about our marriage, wasn’t he?”

“Well, you didn’t mention that to him,” she reminded him. “For all he was aware, he was the last to know.”

“You didn’t hear him ask, did you?”

“No. He probably has too much pride for that. That wall between you has gotten so thick I don’t think either of you knows how to break through it. Even how to start.”

“I did my part. I reached out a hand and as usual, he basically slapped it away because he considers it too clean to be a real man’s hand.”

For just that moment, Cole’s composure slipped enough for her to catch a fleeting glimpse of the old pain that he kept deeply hidden, but he recovered almost instantly. “Let’s not talk about this now. It’s not the way I want to end our weekend. I’ll just assure you that you don’t have to worry I’ll be anything like my father when it comes to being a dad. He’s taught me everything not to do.”

She still believed Cole would be a wonderful father. Which didn’t mean he wouldn’t still carry the scars from his past. Or that those old wounds might not open up again someday in the future, to the detriment of himself and anyone close to him.

Because she could sense it would do no good to keep pushing him now while the disappointing visit was still so fresh and raw in his mind, she let it go, changing the subject to their upcoming week’s schedule, instead. But she was going to think about this quite a bit more, she vowed silently. And maybe she’d figure out a way to help Cole and his dad build a door in that stubborn, pride-strengthened wall.

There was a moment of awkwardness a while later when Cole turned onto the street where they lived. They’d stopped for a nice dinner when they’d arrived in Little Rock because he’d said they were both too tired to cook after the trip. Now that they’d finally arrived home, he didn’t seem sure whether to pull into her driveway or his own garage.

“I’ll carry the baby things into your house first,” he decided, parking in front of her house.

Faced again with the reality of their new living—and sleeping—arrangements, Stevie tried to hide her own attack of nerves behind practicality. “We should go check on Dusty. Do you think she’d adapt to living in my house with us? I don’t think cats like change, do they?”

“Beats me. I’ve never actually owned a cat before. Or should I say, I’ve never been owned by a cat before.”

She laughed. “She does get her wishes across, doesn’t she? Let’s bring her over and see if she finds my house suitable.”

Dusty seemed a bit wary of the move at first, nervously exploring the house while making sure both Stevie and Cole remained nearby. Stevie set up the litter box in the easily accessible laundry area and the food and water bowls in the kitchen, then showed both to the cat, slipping her a couple of treats in the process. Afterward, Cole sat in an armchair in the living room and patted his knee. Dusty jumped up, curled up on his lap and promptly went to sleep, apparently exhausted by the change but content to be back in her favorite place. Her rumbling purr was audible even halfway across the room to Stevie.

“She’s a demanding little diva, isn’t she?” Cole asked, fondly rubbing his pet’s ears. “I’ll help put things away in a bit. Just let me sit here with her for a few minutes to reassure her.”

She was suddenly a little jealous of the cat. She wouldn’t at all mind sitting in Cole’s lap and being petted by him. With a wry smile and shake of her head, Stevie turned toward her bedroom. “Take your time and relax. You did all the driving this weekend. I’ll just unpack my bag.”

Usually, entering her impeccably decorated bedroom was like escaping to a peaceful retreat. This lovely and understated room soothed her, gave her busy mind a rest from the creative demands of her job, from hectic schedules and complex relationships.

She hadn’t shared this bed often. Joe had rented a loft downtown, which had suited him better than this sedate, family-friendly neighborhood. He’d called her place boring, his tastes leaning to modern industrial—soaring ceilings, open pipes, exposed bricks and numerous musical instruments.

Shaking her head to clear her mind of the past, she unpacked her bag and put away her things, then combined a couple of drawers to make space for Cole. It would take a while to get everything arranged, of course, but she wanted him to feel immediately welcome.

She walked back into the living room only to stop short in the doorway to admire the appealing scene that greeted her. Cole was sound asleep in the chair, one hand still resting on the cat dozing in his lap. His hair was rumpled around his face and he looked younger and more unguarded than usual. She had no doubt he would be on his feet instantly if she said his name, but she tiptoed out of the room, leaving him to rest.

The past two days had been as eventful for Cole as they’d been for her, she mused, trying to put herself in his shoes for a moment. Did he feel the weight of his actions on his shoulders, the responsibilities of the promises he’d made to her and her child? Of course he did. That was just who he was. He was going to have to learn to let someone else take care of him occasionally, she thought firmly. Because that was just who she was.

Moving as quietly as possible, she settled at the kitchen table with a cup of herbal tea while she checked email and texts on her phone. The phone vibrated in her hand and she checked the caller ID. Seeing one of her two best friends’ names on the screen, she moistened her lips. She didn’t want to break her big news on the phone, but she didn’t want to lie to her friend, either. She hoped neither option would be necessary as she said, “Hi, Tess. What’s up?”

“Just checking in. Scott and I just got back from a weekend in New Orleans.”

Stevie was a little surprised. “I didn’t know you’d planned a New Orleans weekend.”

Tess sighed happily. “He surprised me after we left the office Friday by driving straight to the airport for a Valentine’s Day getaway. He’d been planning it secretly for weeks, with the help of his brothers’ wives. We spent two nights in a lovely hotel in the French Quarter and we hardly mentioned work all weekend. Even though it was a little chilly and it rained quite a bit it was heavenly to get away for a couple of days.”

“Nice.” And an illustration of how much workaholic Scott’s priorities had changed since he’d become engaged to Tess. A whole weekend away from the busy, successful construction business that meant so much to him was definitely a demonstration of his commitment to his bride-to-be. “I’m glad you had fun.”

“Now I’m looking forward to our honeymoon,” Tess admitted with a laugh. “I can’t wait to get on that warm beach in the Cayman Islands after this cold, dreary winter.”

Tess and Scott were to be married in mid-June on the spreading back lawn of his parents’ West Little Rock home. Their guest list would be as small as they could politely manage, their theme restrained and elegant. A sweet, simple wedding, as Tess frequently described, was her preference. But “simple” was a matter of perspective, Stevie thought wryly, remembering her own little ceremony with Pastor Dave and Luanne.

“Tess...”

Oh, goodness, how to even start?

“Yes?” her friend prodded after a moment.

On a sudden inspiration, Stevie blurted, “Can you come to my place tomorrow evening? Around seven? I know it’s short notice, but it won’t take long if you have other things you need to do. I’m going to ask Jenny, too.”

“A girls’ night?” Tess asked after a momentary hesitation that indicated she’d heard something odd in Stevie’s voice.

“Not exactly. I’ll explain tomorrow, okay? It’ll be easier in person. Can you come?”

“I’ll make time. Stevie...is something wrong?”

“Everything’s good,” Stevie assured her. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Her call with Tess completed, she shot a quick text invitation to Jenny, who accepted immediately.

“Everything okay?” Cole asked from the doorway.

She looked up from her phone to find him studying her expression in concern. “I’ve invited Tess and Jenny to drop by tomorrow evening at seven. I’ll tell them everything then.”

“Sounds like a good plan. I’ll do some work over at my place while they’re here to give you privacy for your talk.”

Grateful for his understanding, she nodded. “I’ll text you after I’ve explained everything to them. I want you to meet them.”

She wasn’t sure why he’d never met Jenny and Tess. They’d heard her talk about her neighbor and knew Stevie and Cole had become friends, but they’d never all been in the same place at the same time for introductions. In a way, it was almost as if she’d been keeping her friendship with Cole to herself. Those pleasant evenings over tea with him and his cat—they’d been special to her, she admitted now. She could never have dreamed then where they’d lead, but she’d privately treasured them.

And now it was time to bring those separate components of her life together.

“What about you?” she asked Cole. “Do you have friends you’ll want to bring together for the big announcement?”

He shrugged. “I’ll spread the word among my friends in the next week or so. I have a few local buddies, but no one as close as Jenny and Tess are to you. I need to call my mother, but I’ll wait until the morning since it’s an hour later in Florida.”

“I should call my mom, too. It’s still early enough in Hawaii for me to call her now. I’ll send a text to my brother later. He’s not much for talking on the phone.”

“Sorry I conked out on you in there. Dusty’s snoring put me to sleep.”

She chuckled. “No problem. You’re tired. Where is...oh, here she is.”

She reached down to stroke the cat winding around her ankles. Dusty was beginning to look more comfortable in her new quarters now that she’d been reassured her beloved Cole had come with her.

“I emptied a couple of drawers for you on the right side of the dresser. We’ll have to rearrange the closet to fit your things, but we can do that later. It’s a big walk-in and there’s plenty of room for your stuff.”

“Thanks. I’ll unpack while you call your mom.”

Drawing a deep breath for fortitude, she called her mom as soon as she was alone in the kitchen again. Her mother had plans for the evening but she made time to take her daughter’s call. Stevie barely gave her mom time to say hello before she burst into a nervous speech. Her words all but tripped over each other as she explained that she had eloped with her next-door neighbor and was expecting a child in August and that she and Cole were looking forward to sharing childcare duties and expected to have a long, successful marriage.

Her mother interrupted only a couple of times to ask her to slow down, but she handled the news with typical equanimity. The baby’s parentage didn’t come up, not that Stevie had expected it to with her nontraditional mom.

“So you chose to marry,” her mom said when she finally had a chance to speak. “That’s cool, though you know how I feel about the institution. You’re keeping your own name, right? Holding on to your business and your financial independence? Do you have a prenup?”

“Don’t worry, Mom,” Stevie replied with a wry smile. “It’s a completely modern marriage.”

“There’s no such thing,” her mother replied brusquely.

“You’ll like Cole, Mom. He’s a great guy. And he has a very successful career and owns his own house,” she added pointedly.

“That sounds promising,” her mother conceded grudgingly. “I hope you’ll be happy. And make sure you have a good lawyer.”

“Yes, Mother,” Stevie said with a grin that had to be audible in her voice.

Her mom’s musical laughter came through the phone. “Now you’re just being sassy.”

“Look who raised me,” Stevie retorted affectionately. “You’re going to be such a fun grandma.”

“Oh, God, don’t call me that. Your child can call me Bonnie. Or maybe BonBon. That’s cute, right?”

“We’ll discuss it. Enjoy your evening.”

“Oh, I will. Aloha, sweetie.”

“Aloha, Mom.”

Cole joined her again a few minutes later, pausing in the doorway to make sure the call was concluded before he walked into the room. “How did your call go?”

“Mom wished us well and told me to keep a good lawyer on call. Oh, and she wants to be called BonBon, not grandma.”

He smiled, unoffended by the message. “I have to admit, I’m looking forward to meeting your mother.”

“She wants to meet you, too. Would you like some tea?”

“Sounds good, but I’ll make it. Why don’t you stay off your feet for a while. It’s been a long day.”

At least he’d had the tact not to tell her she looked tired, though she felt a bit bedraggled. “Tea bags are in the pantry, cups in that cabinet,” she said, pointing.

He turned her toward the living room. “I’ll find what I need. Go rest.”

“You talked me into it.”

She told herself she was only going to lie down for a few minutes. She curled on the couch with a throw pillow beneath her head, her legs drawn up in front of her. She was just drifting off when a warm little body settled beside her and a deep, steady purr lulled her to sleep.

She wasn’t sure what time it was when Cole woke her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s getting late, Stevie. Want to turn in?”

She opened her eyes, noting that he’d dimmed the lights. The cat wasn’t beside her now. “What time is it?”

“After ten. I’ve been working on my laptop, but I think I’ll get some sleep. How are you feeling?”

She yawned. “Okay. Just tired.”

“Should I carry you to bed?”

Laughing softly, she climbed to her feet. “As manly and sexy as that sounds, I’ll walk.”

He rested a hand at the small of her back. “You think I’m manly and sexy?”

“Well, of course.” She reached up to pat his cheek sleepily. “Not to mention a cutie.”

He grunted. “Let’s just leave it at manly and sexy, okay?”

She giggled.

A short while later Cole climbed into her bed beside her and reached out to turn off the bedside lamp. He paused for just a moment with his hand on the switch. “Stevie?”

“Mmm?”

“Have I told you how much I like the way you’ve decorated your house? Especially this bedroom. It’s nice.”

The light went out, leaving her to lie awake for a few minutes in the dark, thinking about how funny life could be sometimes.

An unexpected life, she thought, glancing in the direction of her jewelry box. She was certainly living up to that fortune cookie’s prediction.

Fortunately, Tess and Jenny arrived together the next evening so Stevie didn’t have to go through explanations twice. Cold air swirled into the house with the new arrivals, and they gathered around the crackling fireplace to shed their coats and scarves, which Stevie stashed in the front bedroom before returning to her friends. Her stomach was tied in knots as she wondered what they’d say in response to her news.

“How are you feeling?” she asked Jenny, shamelessly stalling for a moment.

With a little groan and a rueful expression, Jenny pressed her hand to her tummy. “Okay now, but the mornings are bad. I have to downplay how sick I feel, though, because poor Gavin gets so distraught.”

That didn’t surprise Stevie. She knew how overprotective Jenny’s husband was. Jenny and Gavin had been sweethearts at the university all three of them had attended, though a bitter, youthful breakup had separated them for a decade. Stevie had been delighted when fate had brought the couple back together. And now they were married and having a baby together. Way to go, fate.

Tess smiled sympathetically, though her expression made Stevie wonder if Tess, too, was imagining a day when she and Scott would welcome a child. Ironically, Stevie was the only one of the three friends who’d been in no particular hurry to have a baby, until that capricious fate had stepped in to change her status.

Her friends were both so blissfully in love. Yet, having seen the pain both had gone through during rocky patches in their courtships, Stevie was relieved that she and Cole were being more practical with their relationship. Going into marriage and parenthood the way she and Cole had, with clearly defined boundaries and goals and expectations, should certainly minimize any chance of heartbreak for either of them. There would be challenges, of course, some disappointments and annoyances. She was quite sure she’d irritate the hell out of him at times, though she wasn’t sure he’d tell her if she did. But they would make it work.

She hoped Jenny and Tess would see the logic of those arguments even if they worried that she had been recklessly impulsive again.

She poured tea all around and waited until the others were seated before clearing her throat in preparation to speak. She was a little surprised that neither of her usually sharp-eyed friends had noticed her new rings, but that only showed how distracted they were with their own lives.

So much had changed in the past year, she thought a bit wistfully. So many changes still lay ahead.

Jenny and Tess were looking at her now as if they sensed something momentous was coming. Before she could speak, a plaintive meow sounded from the doorway and Dusty padded warily into the room. The cat had dashed off to hide when the doorbell rang, nervous about the new arrivals. Dusty wasn’t accustomed to company, having lived for a year with her somewhat reclusive owner. But she was too needy to remain hidden away for long when there were potential ear rubs waiting in here.

“Stevie, you got a cat?” Tess asked in surprise, holding out a hand to the little tabby who sniffed it with interest. “She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she? Er, he?”

“She.” Stevie watched with a faint smile as the cat leaped lightly onto the couch between her friends, regally allowing herself to be stroked and admired.

“What’s her name?” Jenny asked.

“Dusty.”

Jenny’s eyebrows rose. “Your neighbor’s cat?” she asked, having heard Stevie mention her cat-sitting sessions. “You’re keeping her here when he’s away now?”

“He isn’t away. Dusty lives here now. And, um, so does Cole.”

A startled silence followed her revelation. Jenny and Tess looked at her as if neither was quite sure she’d heard correctly.

Jenny recovered first. “Cole lives here? Since when?”

Stevie held up her left hand to display the glittering rings. “Since we eloped Friday afternoon. We got married.”

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