Книга - The Ladies’ Man

The Ladies' Man
Susan Mallery


She'd resolved to "act more sophisticated" and "get out more."But the rumpled bedding, the coffee brewed by other hands and The Note reminded Rachel Harper that she'd done something completely out of character. She'd brought a man home from a bar. And apparently made a baby. She'd been nervous to tell Carter Brockett the news.Oh, she felt strangely safe with him despite his dangerous looks. Worse, she liked him. But what must he think of the naive schoolteacher who'd lost control and gotten herself knocked up? After all, the man had a legion of exes who'd been unable to snare a commitment, and here she had a forever-binding one! Then she remembered. He'd lost control, too….









“We made a baby.”


Her eyes widened slightly. “Could we avoid the topic?”



“Not for much longer.”



“I know, but we have a plan, right? Pretend dating.”



Pretend dating meant putting on a show—mostly for his family. And not getting involved in any way. They could be friends, but nothing more.



Friends who sleep together, he thought hopefully, and then reminded himself he’d sworn off women again. He had to. Look at what had happened with Rachel.



Women were the root of all the trouble in his life and he would be better off if he could simply walk away from them.



Then Rachel smiled and he found himself wanting her again.



Walking away wasn’t an option.


Dear Reader,



I hope you’re having as much fun reading the POSITIVELY PREGNANT series as I had writing it. One of the things I love most about these books is that much of what happens to the characters is unexpected.



Have you ever met someone and later found out there were so many things you didn’t know about that person? So many good things that made you like him or her even more? That’s a concept I’m having fun with in this series. Unexpected people, unexpected relationships, unexpected babies! Falling in love is always a gift, but falling in love with someone unexpected is even more fun.



Rachel Harper thinks she’s someone who enjoys surprises, but she has kind of gotten into a rut. Carter Brockett is just the man to nudge her into love’s fast lane, but what happens when the ride takes off in a direction neither of them expected?



I hope you enjoy The Ladies’ Man.



Best,



Susan Mallery


The Ladies’ Man

Susan Mallery






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




SUSAN MALLERY


is the bestselling and award-winning author of over fifty books for Harlequin and Silhouette Books. She makes her home in the Los Angeles area with her handsome prince of a husband, her two adorable-but-not-bright cats and new puppy. Check out all her doings at www.susanmallery.com.




Contents


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen




Chapter One


Rachel Harper had always longed to be more sophisticated. It was right there on her to-do list between “be more aware of current events” and “don’t let your hand-washing pile up so much.”

While she had started watching the national news nearly every night, she wasn’t doing so well keeping up with her delicates. And the sophistication thing? A total loss.

Which was why she found herself, at the ripe old age of twenty-five, sitting in a bar and feeling as if she didn’t have a clue as to how to act. Not that she was here to do normal barlike things. Instead, she’d agreed to accompany Diane, a new teacher at her school, who was breaking up with her boyfriend and had asked Rachel to come along for moral support. As the next item of Rachel’s to-do list—right under the issue with the hand-washing—was “get out more,” she’d agreed to tag along to the Blue Dog Bar.

Rachel wasn’t sure what dog, blue or not, had inspired the name. There seemed to be a lot more men than women in the bar. She swirled the margarita she’d ordered, then took a big sip.

“The jerk isn’t even going to show up,” Diane said from her seat across the small table they’d chosen by the wall. “That is so like him. I swear, I’m going to kick him in the head when I see him.” Diane paused, then smiled. “See, I’m talking in ‘I’sentences, just like that book said.”

“Yes, you are,” Rachel murmured, deciding not to point out that the “I” sentences the self-help manual referred to probably didn’t fall into the “I’m going to kick you in the head” category.

“There he is,” Diane said as she stood. “Wish me luck.”

Rachel glanced at the tall, dark-haired man who strolled into the bar, looking as if he could take just about every other guy there. “Good luck,” she said and meant it.



Carter Brockett eyed the curvy brunette in the prim dress and knew he was seconds away from all kinds of trouble. The cool, logical side of his brain reminded him that all the pain and suffering in his life could be traced back to one source: women. Life was always better when he walked away.

The part of his brain—and the rest of him—that enjoyed a warm body, a sharp mind and a purely feminine take on the world said she looked interesting. And that last bit of consciousness, shaped by a very strong-willed mother who had drilled into him that he was always to protect those weaker than him, told him that the attractive brunette was in way over her head.

He could be wrong of course. For all he knew, she was a leather-wearing dominatrix who came to the Blue Dog because of the place’s reputation. But he had his doubts.

The Blue Dog was a cop bar. But not just any hangout for those in uniform. It was a place where guys showed up to get lucky and the women who walked in counted on that fact. Carter usually avoided the place—he worked undercover and couldn’t afford to be seen here. But one of his contacts had insisted on the location, so Carter had agreed and prayed no one from the force would speak to him.

No one had. He’d concluded his business and had been about to leave when the brunette had walked in with her friend, who was currently involved in a heated conversation with Eddy. Eddy wasn’t exactly a prince when it came to his dating habits, so Carter had a feeling the chat wasn’t going to go well. He nodded at Jenny, the bartender on duty, then pointed to the brunette. Jenny raised her eyebrows.

Carter didn’t have to guess what she was thinking. Jenny, an ex-girlfriend, knew him pretty well. Yeah, well, maybe after a few months of self-induced celibacy, he was ready to give the man-woman thing another try. Even though he knew better. Even though it was always a disaster.

He glanced around and saw he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the contrast between the brunette’s made-for-sin body and her Sunday-school-teacher clothes. So if he was going to protect her from the other big bad cops, he’d better get a move on.

He walked to the bar, where Jenny handed him a beer and a margarita. He ignored her knowing grin and crossed to the brunette’s table.

“Hi. I’m Carter. Mind if I join you?”

As he asked the question, he set down the margarita and gave her his best smile.

Yeah, yeah, a cheap trick, he thought, remembering all the hours he’d spent perfecting it back in high school. He’d taught himself to smile with just the right amount of interest, charm and bashfulness. It never failed.

Not even tonight, when the woman looked up, flushed, half rose, then sat back down, and in the process knocked over her nearly empty drink and scattered the slushy contents across the table and down the front of her dress.

“Oh, no,” she said, her voice soft and almost musical. “Darn. I can’t believe I…” She pressed her lips together, then looked at him.

He’d already sopped up the mess on the table with a couple of napkins. He completely ignored the dampness on her dress. Sure, he was interested, but he wasn’t stupid.

“You okay?” he asked, curious about a woman who actually said darn.

“Yes. Thank you.”

He passed over the drink he’d brought.

She glanced first at it, then at him. “I’m, ah, with someone.”

He kept his gaze on her. “Your girlfriend. I saw you come in together.”

She nodded. “She’s breaking up with her boyfriend and wanted moral support. I don’t usually…This isn’t…” She sighed. “She’ll be back soon.”

“No problem,” he said easily. “I’ll keep you company until she’s finished.”

Even in the dim light of the bar, he could see her eyes were green. Her long, dark hair hung in sensuous waves to just past her shoulders.

Carter held in a snort. Sensuous waves? He’d sure been without for a little too long if he were thinking things like that.

She shifted uncomfortably and didn’t touch the drink.

“Is it me or the bar?” he asked.

“What? Oh, both, I suppose.” Instantly, she covered her mouth, then dropped her hand to her damp lap. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s fine. I’m a great believer in the truth. So which is more scary?”

She glanced around the Blue Dog, then returned her attention to him. “Mostly you.”

He grinned. “I’m flattered.”

“Why? You want me to think you’re scary?”

He leaned forward and lowered his voice just enough to get her to sway toward him. “Not scary. Dangerous. All guys want to be dangerous. Women love that.”

She surprised him by laughing. “Okay, Carter, I can see you’re a pro and I’m way out of my league with you. I cheerfully confess I’m not the bar type and being in this setting makes me horribly uncomfortable.” She glanced at her friend. “I can’t tell if the fight’s going well or badly. What do you think?”

He looked at Eddy, who’d backed the blonde into a corner. “It depends on how you’re defining ‘well.’ I don’t think they’re actually breaking up. Do you?”

“I’m not sure. Diane was determined to tell him what she thought, once and for all. In ‘I’ sentences.”

He frowned. “In what?”

She smiled. “I think you’re not treating me with respect. I think you’re always late on purpose. That kind of thing. Although she did say something about wanting to kick him in the head, which is unlikely to help. Of course, I don’t know Eddy. He may like that sort of thing.”

Carter was totally and completely charmed. “Who are you?” he asked.

“My name is Rachel.”

“You don’t swear, you don’t hang out in bars, so what do you do?”

“How do you know I don’t swear?” she asked.

“You said ‘darn’ when you spilled your drink.”

“Oh. Right. It’s a habit. I teach kindergarten. There’s no way I can swear in front of the children, not that I ever used a lot of bad words, so I trained myself to never say them. It’s just easier. So I use words like ‘darn’ and ‘golly.’” She grinned. “Sometimes people look at me like I’m at the dull-normal end of the IQ scale, but I can live with that. It’s for the greater good. So who are you?”

A complicated question, Carter thought, knowing he couldn’t tell her the truth. “Just a guy.”

“Uh-huh.” She eyed his earring—a diamond stud—and his too-long hair. “More than just a guy. What do you do?”

That changed with the assignment, he thought. “I’m working for a chopper shop. Motorcycles,” he added.

She straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. “I know what a chopper is. I’m not some innocent fresh out of the backwoods.”

Her indignation made him want to chuckle. She reminded him of a kitten facing down a very large and powerful dog. All the arched back and hissing fury didn’t make the kitten any bigger.

“Not a lot of backwoods around here,” he said easily. “Desert, though. You could be an innocent fresh out of the desert.”

Her lips twitched, as if she were trying not to smile. He pushed her margarita toward her.

“You’re letting all the ice melt,” he told her.

She hesitated, then took a sip. “Are you from around here?” she asked.

“Born and raised. All my family’s here.”

“Such as?”

Now it was his turn to pause. He didn’t usually give out personal information. In his line of work, it could get him into trouble. But he had a feeling Rachel wasn’t going to be a threat to much more than his oath of celibacy.

“Three sisters, a mom. Their main purpose in life is to make me crazy.” He made the statement with equal parts love and exasperation.

Rachel looked wistful. “That’s nice. Not the crazy part, but that you’re close.”

“You’re not close to your family?”

“I don’t have any.”

He didn’t know what to say to that and reminded himself too late that he was supposed to be charming her, not reminding her that she was alone in the world.

“Are you from around here?” he asked.

“Riverside?” She shook her head. Her hair swayed and caught the light and, for the moment, totally mesmerized him. “I moved here after I graduated from college. I wanted a nice, quiet, suburban sort of place.” She sighed. “Not very exciting.”

“Hey, I’ve lived here all my life. I can show you the best spots for viewing the submarine races.”

She grinned. “Where I grew up, we went parking over by the river. Well, not really a river. More of a gully. Part of the year, it even had water in it.”

“Parking, huh?”

She shrugged. “I had my moments.”

“And now?”

Her gaze drifted to where her friend still talked to Eddy. “Not so much.” She looked back at him. “Why’d you come over?”

He smiled. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

She ducked her head and blushed. Carter couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a woman blush. He wanted to make her do it again.

“Thank you,” she said. “I spend my days with five-year-olds whose idea of being charming is to put glue in my hair. You’re a nice change.”

“You’re comparing me to a five-year-old?” he asked, pretending outrage.

“Well, a lot of guys have maturity issues.”

“I’m totally mature. Responsible, even.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Of course you are.”



Carter was…interesting, Rachel thought, then nearly laughed out loud at the wild understatement. Okay, he was gorgeous, in a California blond, male-model sort of way. Classically handsome with shaggy hair and that earring. Who had given it to him? She couldn’t stop looking at it, which told her she needed to get out more. No wait—that was already on her to-do list.

He was big, with broad shoulders and a smile that made her toes curl inside her sensible, low-heeled pumps even as she wondered if there were any interesting tattoos underneath the chambray shirt and jeans. What would it be like to be a leather-and-lace kind of woman—someone who knew what to do with a guy like Carter? As it was she was blushing, practically stammering and wishing Diane would hurry up so they could go.

Except she wasn’t ready to leave. Not just yet. Carter wasn’t the kind of guy who usually came on to her, but it was fun to play “what-if” even if only in her head.

So she took a drink of her margarita and imagined herself to be wearing a wicked red-lace bra and a matching thong under black leather and some low-cut bustier. What would that Rachel say to a man like him?

“So tell me a secret,” she said, surprising herself and, from the way his eyebrows lifted, him.

Her instinct was to take it back and say he didn’t have to, but she refused to crumble now.

He thought for a second, then shrugged. “I keep trying to give up on women. They invade every part of my life and I know I’d be better off if I could just stay away from them. I was raised to do the right thing, so once I’m involved it’s hard to get out.”

Not the answer she’d expected. “You know I’m a woman, right?” she asked, only half kidding.

He grinned. “Oh, yeah. I noticed.”

“You’re going to give up women by not avoiding them?”

He sipped his beer. “It’s a work in progress,” he admitted. “I avoid them for a few months and then I walk into somewhere safe and I’m sucker punched by someone I didn’t expect.”

Did that mean her?

“So tell me your secret,” he said.

“I dance,” she admitted without thinking, then immediately wished she could call back the words. “I mean, I used to. When I was growing up and in college. I wanted to be a dancer, but I don’t have the right body type.”

He was polite enough to keep his gaze firmly fixed on her face.

“What kind of dance?” he asked.

“Everything. Ballet, jazz, modern. I still take classes, which is silly because it’s not like I’m going to do something with it.”

“Why is it silly? Does everything have to have a purpose?”

She didn’t know how to answer. She’d never told anyone about her dancing and she wasn’t sure why she’d admitted it now. Maybe because it was easier than talking about her leather-and-lace fantasy.

Before she could answer his question, Diane’s sharp voice cut across the floor.

“You’re a jerk, Eddy. I don’t know why I ever bothered with you.”

“Hey, babe, don’t be that way.”

Eddy reached for Diane, who pushed his arm away. “I hate you. How’s that for an I sentence. Go to hell.”

Eddy threw up both hands. “I don’t need this from you. Just forget it.”

Diane glared at him. “Fine, I will. This is the end. Don’t bother coming around again. Understand.”

“Clearly. Don’t you come crawling back. I’m not interested.”

“Me, either.”

With that, Diane whirled around and marched out of the bar.

Rachel stared after her. “She said she wanted to break up with him, but I didn’t think she meant it.” She looked at the exit, wondering if her friend would be all right. “I need to go check on her.”

“Sure thing.”

Rachel stood, as did Carter. She glanced from him to the door and back.

“Thanks for the drink and the conversation,” she said, suddenly feeling awkward. “You were really nice.”

His easy smile gave her toes another miniworkout. “Words every guy longs to hear.”

“What? Oh.” She laughed. “Right. Sorry. You were especially dangerous tonight. I was terrified.”

“Better.”

He stepped around the table and lightly kissed her. She had no warning. One second he was moving and the next she felt a soft, tempting pressure on her mouth that was gone before she could fully grasp it.

“Take care, Rachel,” he said and headed back to the bar.

She watched him go, then turned and walked out into the still warm evening. Who could have known she could meet such a great guy in a bar? She glanced at the sign showing a sitting, tail-wagging, blue dog in bright neon. And here, of all places.

At least she could check “get out more” off her to-do list, she thought as she moved toward Diane’s car. That was—

The car was gone.

Rachel distinctly remembered where her friend had parked because the ghostly blue from the sign had turned her dress purple as she’d climbed out of the car. As Diane wasn’t standing around in hysterics, it was unlikely the car had been stolen.

“But she was my ride home,” Rachel said aloud to no one.

Diane had left her? Was that possible? Sure, her friend had been upset, but…

Rachel walked to the edge of the parking lot and glanced up and down the street. Nothing. No familiar blue sedan cruised in her direction.

Her mouth opened and closed. This could not be happening. Sure she didn’t know Diane all that well, but how flaky would the other woman have to be to go off and forget her?

“Is there a problem?”

The familiar voice made her want to groan, and not in a good way. She’d been so happy with how things had gone in the bar. She’d managed to act sophisticated and bar-worldly…sort of. But to have all that blown now was really unfair.

She turned until she faced Carter, then shrugged.

“So your girlfriend was more upset than either of us realized,” he said, obviously grasping what had happened.

“Apparently.”

“Come on,” he said with a smile. “I’ll take you home.”

She wanted to tell him that wasn’t necessary. That she would call another friend or a cab. But it was late and she hated to disturb anyone because of what had happened, and this was Riverside, not New York. There weren’t exactly cabs cruising around looking for fares.

He held up both hands, as if surrendering. “I’m perfectly safe.”

“Ha. You said you were dangerous.”

“Only in my dreams.”

He tilted his head in invitation. She sighed, then nodded.

“Thank you,” she said as she followed him to a large black truck.

“No problem. This can be my good deed for the week. It’ll make my mom happy.”

Him mentioning his mother eased a little of her tension. She felt awkward as she climbed onto the passenger seat, which felt about thirty feet above the ground.

“Nice truck,” she said when he slid in on the driver’s side. “Great visibility.”

“Macho,” he corrected with a grin. “Macho truck.”

She couldn’t help laughing. “Of course. My mistake. Imagine how high it would be if you got those really big tires.”

“Not my style.”

Oh, but a truck was? And people said women were confusing.

He started the engine, then glanced at her. “Where to?”

She fastened her seat belt and gave him directions.

After Carter pulled out of the parking lot, he said, “You need to have a talk with your friend. Driving off and leaving you alone at a bar is not okay.”

“I agree. I couldn’t believe it when I stepped out and her car was gone. I don’t know her all that well, but still…” She shrugged.

“You work together?” he asked.

“Yes. She just started this term. Diane teaches fourth grade.”

“Big kids,” he teased.

“Bigger than mine. Plus I suspect by the time they’re nine there’s a whole lot less paste eating. But I wouldn’t trade. I love the little kids. Everything is exciting and new to them. They see all the possibilities. If I do my job right, I can help them love school for the rest of their lives.”

Just then his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his shirt pocket and flipped it open.

“Brockett. Uh-huh. Yeah. How’d you know?” He laughed. “No. I’ve got it. Night.” He hung up. “Your friend came back, looking for you.”

“Really? Good. I didn’t want to have to yell at her tomorrow. Who called?”

“Jenny, the bartender. She’ll tell Diane that you’re good.”

Rachel opened her mouth, then closed it. She wasn’t sure “good” covered it. There was every possibility that Diane would think she was going home with a guy she just met. Perhaps not the most awful thing in the world, but not a reality Rachel was comfortable with.

As she couldn’t discuss that with Carter, she asked the next logical question.

“How does the bartender know your cell number?”

“Don’t panic,” he told her. “I’m not that much of a regular. Jenny and I go way back. We’ve been friends for years.”

Friends, huh? And before that?

He pulled up in front of her small apartment building. It was in an older part of town. Rachel had chosen the place specifically because she loved the higher ceilings and custom touches of the Craftsman-style architecture.

Carter turned off the engine, then looked at the carport. “Let me guess,” he said, eyeing the cars parked there. “The gray sedan.”

She unfastened her seat belt and had the satisfaction of knowing she was about to shock him. “The little red, two-seater convertible.”

His eyes widened. “No way.”

“Way.”

His gaze settled on her face. “Why wasn’t my kindergarten teacher more like you?”

“Maybe she was. Five-year-olds tend not to notice stuff like that.”

“I guess.”

Before she could thank him for the ride, he climbed out of the truck. She did the same and they met on the sidewalk.

“You don’t have to walk me up,” she said.

“I want to. This is a full-service rescue.”

She felt nervous and out of her element, but not afraid. She liked Carter and while she knew she would probably never see him again, she couldn’t help being glad he didn’t want to run right off.

She led the way up the stairs to the far apartment. As they passed between her overflowing plant stands, he asked, “Yours?”

She pulled her keys out of her purse. “Another hobby. I like to grow things.”

“A kindergarten teacher who dances and has a green thumb. Interesting.” He stepped a little closer and lightly touched her cheek with his fingertips. “I’m going to kiss you, Rachel. I’m telling you this in advance, so you can race inside, slap me or go with it and kiss me back. We all know what my choice would be, but you get a say in this, too.”

The porch light brought out the gold in his blond hair. He was both handsome and sexy, a fairly irresistible combination. She hadn’t been on a date in months or been kissed in nearly two years and until this exact moment, hadn’t realized how much she’d missed having a man in her life.

“I’m not the slapping type,” she murmured, her gaze locked with his.

He gave her a slow, knowing smile that made her shiver.

“Good to know,” he said, right before he kissed her.




Chapter Two


Carter’s mouth was warm and firm on hers, but tender. Rachel had thought he might be one of those pushy kissers, claiming what he wanted. Instead he moved back and forth against her mouth, giving just enough to make her want more.

One of them moved toward the other. She wasn’t sure who was responsible for the sudden closeness, but she wasn’t going to complain about the feel of his hard, muscled body pressing against hers. He smelled good—like the outdoors, with a hint of masculine temptation. Heat radiated from him, making her want to cuddle even closer, like a cat looking for a sunny spot.

One of his hands continued to stroke her cheek, lightly brushing against her skin, while the other rested on her waist. She wondered if he were holding her in place. Had her mouth not been so busy pressing up against his, she would have told him that she had no intention of going anywhere.

He brushed the very tip of his tongue against her lower lip. The tiny movement was both exciting and erotic. She parted for him, then held her breath in anticipation of him deepening the kiss.

He moved forward slowly, cautiously, as if giving her time to retreat. Instead all she could think was how long it had been since she’d really kissed a man. Not since she’d broken off her engagement nearly two years ago.

At the exact moment his tongue gently stroked hers, need exploded inside of her. The intensity was as shocking as it was unexpected. She wanted more, needed more. Her body suddenly ached to have him touching her. Skin tightened, her breasts swelled. She let her purse slip to the ground, then wrapped both arms around his neck and leaned into him.

He accepted her with a low groan that made her nipples tighten. He pulled her against him, even as he ran his hands up and down her back. She tilted her head and he deepened the kiss, exploring all of her mouth with an urgency that made her tremble.

The depth of passion stunned her. She’d never felt like this from just a kiss and certainly never with a man she’d just met. It was insane. It was also thrilling and arousing and so not anything she was used to.

Carter pulled back slightly. He kissed her cheeks, then along her jaw and down her neck.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “Are you trying to make guys crazy on purpose?”

She could barely breathe, let alone speak, but she forced herself to gather her thoughts. “What are you talking about?”

“Those damn curves in that prim little dress,” he muttered as he licked the sensitive skin just below her ear. “It shouldn’t be legal.”

Her eyes popped open and she stared into the darkness of the night. “Me?” she asked in a voice that squeaked. “But I need to lose about fifteen pounds.” Twenty, really, but she couldn’t bring herself to say that aloud. “I’m not…”

“Incredible?” he asked, brushing her mouth with his. “Sexy? Stunning?” He straightened and smiled. “If this wasn’t the first time I’d kissed you and if I hadn’t been raised to know better, I’d show you exactly what you’ve done to me.”

Curiosity exploded. Was he talking about what she thought he was talking about? Had she really aroused him?

For her own part, she felt more than a little tingly, but he was so much more cool than she could ever hope to be.

She looked into his dark eyes and saw fire burning there. His desire matched her own growing need.

“I’ve never…” she said, then cleared her throat. “I don’t…”

“I know,” he said with more than a little regret. “I swore off sex on the first date about the time I turned twenty. You’re not the type.” He smiled ruefully. “I’ll tell you what, Rachel. You’re enough to make me rethink my plan of swearing off women.”

He kissed her again, then bent down and picked up her purse. She took it from him and held it in both hands. It was that or reach for him again.

He drew in a deep breath. “Here’s what I think. You’re gonna go inside your place, smile, thank me for a great evening and close the door.” He frowned. “You need to lock it, too.”

That made her smile. “You’re not the type to break in.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been this tempted before.”

His words made her tremble. She knew his advice was sound, but it was amazingly difficult to force herself to open her door, then step inside alone. Still, she did it. She set her keys and her purse on the small table by the door, then drew in a breath and prepared to tell him goodbye.

She was in his arms. She wasn’t sure who made the move, but it didn’t matter because holding him and being held felt so good. Even as his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that stirred her to her soul, she savored the feel of his hands as he ran them up and down her back. She could feel the pressure of his fingers, the heat of him. When he lingered on her hips, she instinctively arched toward him. Her belly brushed against his erection.

Need rushed through her. He hadn’t been kidding—he did want her. Just as she wanted him. Nothing about this made any sense at all, but where men were concerned, she’d always been cautious. She’d had exactly two lovers in her life and she’d waited until she’d been sure they were in love and talking about getting married before giving in. She’d never been with a stranger. Until tonight she’d never even kissed a stranger. She was sure that in the bright light of day she would have given herself a stern talking-to, but right now she didn’t care.

She placed her hands on his chest and allowed herself to explore him. As their tongues circled and danced and mated, she learned how she liked to breathe in the scent of his skin.

He set his hands on her waist and moved them up. Slowly, slowly, as if giving her time to protest. Without thinking, she covered his hands with hers and brought them to her breasts.

She was jolted both by her own actions, something she’d never done before, and the exquisite pleasure of having him touch her there. She decided to deal with her guilt later and simply enjoy the feel of him caressing her curves, brushing against her nipples and making her body melt.

The ever-present need grew. She was already wet and swollen and she wanted to be touched everywhere. She squirmed to get closer even as he started unbuttoning the front of her dress.

Yes, she thought hazily. Without clothes they could touch each other. She tugged at his T-shirt. He stepped back, unfastened the buttons and ripped it off. Passion darkened his eyes to the color of the night sky. There was light from a single small lamp in the corner but it was enough to let her see how hard he was breathing and how his desire pushed at the zipper of his jeans.

They came together again. Now she could touch his back and chest, feeling the warmth and smoothness of his skin. He managed to unfasten the front buttons on her dress and push the fabric aside. Her arms were caught for a moment, then she freed herself and shoved it out of the way. Her dress fell to the floor and pooled at her feet.

Under any other circumstances, she would have been embarrassed, but there was no time. Carter bent down and, through her bra, took her nipple in his mouth. She lost herself in the wet heat and gentle sucking. She touched his head, his back, his arms and wished there was a way to touch all of him.

He nudged her backward. She went willingly, then let herself fall onto the sofa. He eased on top of her until they were a tangle of arms and legs. His arousal pressed between her thighs and, even with multiple layers of clothing, he managed to excite that one sensitive spot.

More, she thought frantically, knowing it had been so long and that she would be close in a matter of seconds. She needed more.

He unfastened her bra and pulled it away. Now she felt his mouth on her bare skin and it was nearly enough to send her over the edge. He slipped one hand between them and even as his tongue teased her aching nipple and brought her close to the edge, he eased between her legs and under her panties to get lost in paradise.

He found her center immediately. She didn’t know if it was good luck or a lot of practice, and at that moment, she didn’t care. He rubbed around the swollen spot before brushing over it. She gasped as her body tightened and every cell waited breathlessly for that one moment of release.

Again and again he touched her, moving steadily, then slower, then faster, pushing her into madness until she could only wait, unable to breathe until her body gave in to the pure pleasure and convulsed into release.

She clung to him as the waves rippled through her. He continued to touch her and she continued to climax until he swore, pulled back, unfastened his jeans, jerked down her panties and plunged inside of her.

He was thick and he filled her until she had no choice but to climax again. They held on to each other, kissing, straining, reaching. He called out her name, then stiffened as his body found its own release, and then they were still.

Rachel savored the weight of him, unable to believe that she, of all people, had really made love with a stranger, on her slip-covered sofa, with the scent of night-blooming jasmine in the air.



Rachel woke a few minutes before her alarm clock went off, to find the sun streaming into the room. That didn’t make sense, she thought in sleepy confusion. She always closed the blinds and then pulled the pale curtains. But this morning the curtains were all that were between her and an east-facing window. Huh. Shouldn’t she have…

Reality crashed in on her. She suddenly remembered why, exactly, she hadn’t bothered to lower the blinds. In truth, she hadn’t pulled the curtains, but someone else had. Probably the same person who had urged her into her bed so their second round of lovemaking could take place in more leisurely comfort.

She sat up, then immediately squealed and sank back under the covers. She was naked. Totally, completely naked. She never slept naked, but then she never brought a man she’d barely met back to her apartment and had sex with him.

Embarrassment heated her cheeks. What had she been thinking? Easy answer—she hadn’t. She’d been too busy feeling.

But that was no excuse, she told herself as she clutched the sheets to her chest and slowly sat up again. There were no excuses, no way to justify what she’d done. Momentary insanity, she thought glumly. What other explanation could there be?

She glanced around the room, looking for evidence that Carter was still around. There was no noise from the bathroom and she didn’t see any of his clothes. Had he left? Would that make things better or worse?

Before she could decide, she spotted a piece of paper resting at the foot of the bed. Cautiously, careful to stay covered by the sheet, she reached for it.

Morning, Rachel. Sorry to duck out without saying goodbye, but I have to be at work really early and I didn’t let you get a whole lot of sleep last night, so I didn’t want to wake you before dawn. You’re amazing and I hope I can see you again. Here’s my cell number.

He’d left a phone number and signed his name.

Rachel read the note over a couple of times before setting it on the nightstand. He was gone. That was a relief. She didn’t have to deal with any awkward “morning after” conversation. In truth, she didn’t have to deal with anything. Last night had been a weird, unexplainable phenomenon. Like a bubble in the space-time continuum. She would accept it as such and move on.

Right, she thought as she got out of bed and ran to the closet so she could pull on her robe. Moving on was an excellent plan. Last night had never even happened. She wouldn’t think about it ever again.

Except, as she walked to the kitchen to start her morning coffee, she noticed that specific parts of her felt a little sore. Her hips and thighs had that stretched-too-far ache and there was a faint sort of throb in more intimate places.

No wonder, she thought with a smile. The first time had been all heat and speed, but the second had been incredibly slow and seductive and—

“Stop!” she said aloud in a firm voice. “No thinking, remember? This is thinking. Stop it.”

Right. She had to remember it had all been a big mistake. Not one she would ever repeat, under any circumstances. Carter could have been a serial killer. Right now her body could be in chunks all over the place. She’d been stupid and for reasons not clear to anyone, she’d gotten out unscathed.

As for calling Carter, that wasn’t going to happen. What was she supposed to say to him? How could she explain she wasn’t that type of woman, when as far as he was concerned, she obviously was. She hated that he would think she was slutty, but she couldn’t think of a way to change his mind. He was good-looking enough that this sort of thing probably happened to him all the time. He wouldn’t even give her another thought, just as she’d get him out of her mind immediately. Starting right now.

But when she reached for her coffeepot, she realized it was full and that the aroma of the fresh brew filled the room.

He’d made coffee before he’d left, she realized with a little sigh. Talk about thoughtful.

The phone rang. Rachel’s heart fluttered briefly before she consciously squashed the sensation. No fluttering, no anticipation, no hoping, no Carter. Besides, the man might know where she lived and be on very intimate terms with her body, but he didn’t know her phone number.

“Hello?”

“Rachel? It’s Diane. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Diane sighed. “I’m so sorry about last night. I can’t believe I took off like that and left you. I nearly had a heart attack when I got home and realized what I’d done. I came right back but the bartender said you’d already gotten a ride home. I would have called then, but it seemed so late. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I am,” she said, determined to make it true by sheer force of will.

“Okay. Good. Obviously Eddy makes me crazy. I’m so not going out with him anymore.” Diane sighed. “I should be more like you. You’re so sensible when it comes to men.”

Rachel held in a wince. “I have my moments, like everyone else.”

Diane laughed. “Oh, please. When was the last time you did anything impetuous with a guy?”

Rachel wasn’t about to answer that question. “Thanks for checking on me. I’ll see you later at school.”

“Right. Bye.”

Rachel hung up the phone and poured herself a mug of coffee. It was a new day and she had a new plan. No more wild nights with men she didn’t know. She would go back to being the kind of woman Diane assumed she was. Better for everyone, especially herself.



The rhythmic click of the knitting needles was a good memory for Rachel. One of her years in foster care had been with an older woman who had taught her to knit. She associated the feel of the soft yarn and the sound of the needles with calm evenings spent by a fire with plenty of hot cocoa on hand.

“She’s going to throw me out of class,” Crissy said in a low voice.

Noelle grinned at Rachel, then turned to their friend. “She’s not. She likes you.”

“Ha. She has to.” Crissy tugged at her tangled knitting. “I gave her a free month at one of my gyms. I know it’s wrong to bribe people but I didn’t know what else to do.”

Rachel held in a smile. “Gee, Crissy, have you thought of actually paying attention to your knitting? It is why we’re here.”

Crissy laughed. “Oh, please. You know I only come here so we can go to dinner afterward. The first set of classes wasn’t too bad, but now things are so complicated. Who writes these patterns?”

“We could meet you for dinner after knitting class,” Noelle offered.

“This is fine,” Crissy told her as she held out her needles to Rachel. “I’ll muddle through.”

“Muddle being the key word,” Rachel said as she took the disaster and began unraveling it. “How can you mess up casting on? It’s just not that complicated.”

“I’m a businesswoman. I can run my company, but I’m not very good with my hands,” Crissy said. “Big deal.”

Noelle, ever the peacemaker, patted her arm. “You could try a little harder.”

“I could also wish to be taller,” Crissy said. “It’s not happening.”

Rachel looked at Noelle. “She’s hopeless.”

“Pretty much,” Noelle said cheerfully. “But we love her anyway.”

Noelle set down her needles and stretched her arms above her head. “I’m getting creaky,” she said. “I’m only twenty and I’m already stiff and old.”

Crissy leaned over and hugged Noelle. “You’re pregnant. There’s a difference.” She patted her friend’s round belly. “I can’t believe how long it took you to show. You’re into your sixth month and you’re not big at all.”

“I feel big,” Noelle said with a contented smile. “I feel huge. But it’s good.”

“Of course it is,” Rachel told her. “How’s Dev?”

Noelle’s expression turned dreamy. “Perfect in every way. He wants us to go away before the baby’s born. Sort of a belated honeymoon. But he doesn’t want me to worry about flying. So he’s been looking into a cruise on the Mexican Riviera. Maybe in late January.”

Rachel couldn’t help smiling at her friend. Noelle radiated happiness. Her marriage to Devlin Hunter had started out as a purely practical arrangement that had turned into something wonderful when they’d fallen in love. Even their brief scare that something might be wrong with the baby had ended well when the tests had come back with the good news that everything was fine.

Noelle tucked her blond hair behind her ears. “So, what’s new with you two?” she asked.

Crissy laughed. “Since last week? Gee, nothing. What about you, Rach? Any deep, dark secrets you want to share?”

“Not really,” Rachel murmured. She was still a little sore from her wild adventure three nights before, but she sure wasn’t going to mention that to her friends. While she didn’t think they would actually disapprove, she wasn’t ready to confess all. Maybe she never would be.

In truth, she couldn’t figure out why she’d allowed things to get so out-of-hand with Carter. Okay, he’d been funny and charming and sexy. In her line of work, she didn’t meet a lot of guys like that. Most of the men in her circle were married and fathers of five-year-olds.

And yes, it had been long time since her last relationship, so maybe she’d been in a weakened condition. But still—that was hardly an excuse for what she’d done.

Just as bad, she was starting to regret throwing away Carter’s note, which was crazy. It wasn’t as if she would have ever called the man. And say what? Invite him out on a date? He would think she was only interested in him for sex. How humiliating. Not that she wasn’t interested in him that way, but there would have to be more than just that. Just thinking about it all was confusing, which meant that a relationship would be difficult and if there were this many questions now, what was the point?

She knew better than to get involved. Caring meant losing and she’d already had enough pain in her life.

“Earth to Rachel,” Noelle said. “Are you all right?”

“What? Oh.” Rachel handed Crissy her knitting project. “I’m fine. Just a little distracted.”

“I would normally assume work,” Crissy said, “but you had the oddest look on your face.”

Rachel willed herself not to blush. “It’s nothing.”

Crissy didn’t look convinced. “I make it a rule never to pry, but I’m tempted this one time. Just promise me you won’t do what Noelle did and turn up pregnant.”

“Of course not,” Rachel said. “I’m not dating anyone.”

“Dating isn’t actually required,” Crissy informed her with a grin. “Sometimes proximity is enough.”

Noelle laughed. Rachel forced herself to smile, despite the dark, ugly pit that had opened up in her stomach.

Pregnant? No! It wasn’t possible. No, no, no. She couldn’t be. They’d only done it those two times. Just twice.

Without protection.

Rachel wanted to run screaming into the early evening. She wanted to pound her head against the table, or at the very least, turn back time and not invite Carter into her apartment that night.

She couldn’t be pregnant. She was single and a kindergarten teacher. This wasn’t part of her plan. Not yet. Of course she wanted a husband and a family, just like most women. But in that order. Someday. When she was feeling brave enough to risk her heart.

It wasn’t possible, she told herself firmly, fighting the need to throw up. She would be fine.



Seventeen days after her night with Carter and fourteen days after considering the possibility of pregnancy, Rachel sat on the edge of her tub and told herself not to break into hysterics.

She’d waited an extra two days just to be sure. She’d been patient, she’d done her best not to think about it. She’d willed her period to start exactly on time and when it hadn’t, she’d gone the extra mile just to be sure.

Now, she stared at the seven plastic sticks she’d neatly lined up on two paper towels. They were from three different kits and they all said exactly the same thing.

Positively pregnant.




Chapter Three


Rachel hadn’t planned on ever returning to the Blue Dog Bar. Unfortunately, since she’d tossed the note with Carter’s cell number on it, she had no way to get in touch with the man. But she had remembered that one of the bartenders—Rachel couldn’t remember her name—had known Carter well enough to have his number and so here she was, showing up at three-thirty in the afternoon, with a nervous stomach and several spots of drying paste on the hem of her skirt.

Kindergarteners were hard on their teacher’s clothes, she thought as she glanced down at the dark patches. At least the paste would wash out. If only her problem with Carter could be solved as easily.

She drew in a deep breath, wished she hadn’t been so hasty with that note he’d left and walked into the dim building.

It was early enough that there weren’t many customers. Rachel ignored the few patrons and made her way to the bar, where she sighed in relief when she recognized the same woman who had been here that night three weeks ago.

The woman behind the bar smiled. “Hi. Can I help you?” She was pretty—late twenties, with a cute, short haircut and big green eyes.

“I hope so,” Rachel said, wishing she weren’t so nervous. She could feel herself shaking. “I’m, ah, looking for Carter.”

The bartender continued to smile. “Okay. Carter who?”

Rachel held in a moan of humiliation. “I don’t know,” she admitted in a rush. “I met him here three weeks ago. I didn’t mean to. I was here with a friend and she was breaking up with this guy and…” She sucked in a breath and clutched the large envelope of papers to her chest. “That’s not important, right? Because no one cares. Okay. We, ah, met and I need to talk to him. It’s really important. Carter. He’s about six-two with dark blond hair and a diamond stud earring.”

Honestly, how many Carters could there be? Rachel swallowed hard, then blurted out, “He has a scar shaped like a lightning bolt on his thigh right by his…”

“Oh,” the woman said, knowing. “That Carter. Have a seat. I’ll see if I can get in touch with him.”



Carter couldn’t decide if he was annoyed or relieved. He couldn’t believe it had been three weeks and Rachel was only now getting in touch with him. Sure, hard-to-get was a time-honored game between the sexes, but hey—it was him. He’d never had to wait to get a call before.

Logically, this was probably better. He knew better than to get involved and if she were the kind of female totally into games, he wouldn’t be into her. Problem solved.

Except he had a feeling it wouldn’t be that simple. He hadn’t been able to get Rachel out of his mind. He knew where she lived and could have gone to see her, but that wasn’t his style. Besides, he’d left her his number and she hadn’t called. What did that say about what she thought about him?

He walked into the Blue Dog Bar determined to make her want him, even though he didn’t know if he wanted her. His male pride was at stake. He nodded at Jenny, who pointed to a booth in the back. He squared his shoulders and strolled casually in that direction.

Only to get broadsided by a two-by-four.

It didn’t matter that the hunk of wood was metaphorical. His gut twisted, the air rushed out of his lungs and he would swear he could hear angels singing. Damn, she looked good.

Rachel sat facing the bar, her back all straight, her clothes prissy enough for a preacher’s wife and her hair tied back in some kind of fancy braid. But he knew the truth. He knew that behind that don’t-touch-me-I’m-a-good-girl exterior beat the heart of a wanton. She kissed like a dream and made love as if it were her last time.

Heat poured through him and he had a brief but intense fantasy about dragging her onto the table and taking her right there. Only he’d never been one to show off in front of strangers. Besides, she hadn’t called and that might have hurt his feelings.

“Rachel,” he said as he approached.

She half stood, then sank back into the seat. “Hello, Carter.”

He slid into the seat across from her, then noticed the large legal-sized envelope she’d placed on the table. What was that about?

“It’s been awhile,” he said.

She nodded. “Three weeks.”

She licked her lips, which made his whole body clench. Damn, why did she have to get to him?

She put her hands on the table, laced her fingers together, then pulled back and dropped them to her lap. Nervousness radiated from her like a fine mist. He half expected her to clutch her stomach and run for the bathroom.

He’d decided to play it cool, to let her do all the talking. Not only was it a power play, but he would learn more that way. So he got really annoyed with himself when he blurted out, “You didn’t call.”

She blinked at him. “Excuse me?”

“You didn’t call. I was polite. I had to be up early and I didn’t want to wake you, so I left a note. And my phone number.” He leaned toward her. “I don’t go home with just anyone. Is that what you thought? You could use me and forget about me?”

He swore silently. Had those words come out of his mouth? If anyone ever found out he’d said them, he would be drummed out of the male gender and forced to live as a eunuch.

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t use you.”

“What would you call it? You had your way with me and then walked away without a second thought.” Until today, but he doubted she would think of that.

“I’m the woman. I can’t use you,” she said.

“Right. Because only guys can be jerks. Women always act perfectly.”

“Well, no. Of course not.” She stared at him. “I wasn’t trying to use you.”

“You could have called.”

“I didn’t know what to say.”

“How about ‘Thanks for the great night. We should go out sometime.’” Unless she hadn’t wanted to go out with him again, which wasn’t possible.

She drew in a deep breath. “Carter, I’m sorry I didn’t call, but we have something else more important to discuss.”

Important, huh? With women, that generally meant one thing. The relationship. But he and Rachel didn’t have a relationship.

“I’m listening,” he said.

She nodded, then exhaled. “There are ramifications from our night together.”

It took a second for her words to sink in. He swore under his breath and felt all desire bleed from his body.

“If you have something, you should have told me,” he growled.

Dammit all to hell, he had no one but himself to blame. He hadn’t used anything and he knew better. Not that he usually traveled with a condom. But he should have stopped to think, to ask, to be a responsible adult.

How bad was it? Would his…would it fall off?

“What?” she asked, sounding slightly outraged. “Have something? I’m not sick. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me, either,” he told her. “I’m fine. So if we’re both fine, what’s the problem?”

She glared at him. “Seeing you know everything about women, you should have already figured it out. I’m pregnant.”

Had he mentioned that all of his trouble came from the women in his life? Timing being what it was, Jenny chose that moment to come up and ask if they wanted something to drink.

He looked up at her and sighed. “Give us a minute,” he said.

“Sure thing.”

Jenny glanced at Rachel and then headed back to the bar.

Carter knew what would happen next. He figured they had maybe fifteen minutes more of privacy and, given the topic, they were going to need a lot more.

He turned his attention back to Rachel and let her words wash over him. Pregnant. Pregnant?

“You’re not on the Pill?” he asked, more to himself than her. Because he hadn’t asked before…when it had mattered.

“No,” she said, her voice low and annoyed.

“You let yourself have sex with me without protection or birth control?”

She opened her mouth and then closed it. “Not on purpose,” she told him. “It wasn’t as if I’d planned the night. It just sort of happened. I lost my head.”

And that was going to be his fault.

“I don’t do this sort of thing very much,” she said, obviously still annoyed, although he couldn’t figure out what her problem was. He was the injured party here.

“Meaning?” he asked.

She glanced around, then lowered her voice. “I’ve only been with two other guys and I was engaged to both of them.”

“You’ve been married before?” he asked, feeling slightly outraged. “Twice?”

“No.” She leaned back against the seat and groaned. “I was engaged, not married. That isn’t the point. I’m pregnant.”

“I got that.”

“There’s going to be a baby.”

That stopped him. Because until she’d said the “b” word, he hadn’t put the two together. Pregnant was a scary, dangerous condition used to trap men, but a baby was something pretty miraculous.

He felt himself smile. “Yeah?”

“Don’t you dare be happy,” she told him. “Neither of us planned this. We don’t even know each other.” She thrust the envelope toward him. “I’ve been to a lawyer. This is a very straightforward agreement. I’m not asking you for anything now or ever. In return, you sign away all rights to the child.”

“Why would I do that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because it makes the most sense. Like I said, we barely know each other. We can’t have a baby together.”

“I’d say we already are.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Jenny on the phone. She was quick, he would give her that.

A baby. He didn’t know what he felt, exactly, except a certainty that the kid would be a girl. As for signing away his rights, that wasn’t going to happen in this lifetime.

“We need to talk,” he said, then winced. Was Jenny spiking the beer? Was he turning into a woman?

“There’s nothing to talk about. You should look at the papers.”

He leaned toward her. “I’m not discussing this in a bar.”

She flinched. “I’m not taking you home with me. Look what happened last time.”

He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t interested in her that way—except he was. Now that he knew all his parts were going to stay in place, he could appreciate her pale skin and the way her mouth curved when she smiled. Not that she’d done so in recent memory.

“I’m not trying to sleep with you,” he said. “We can go to my place. Follow me in your car. Keep the damn engine running if you want. My point is, I’m not talking about this here.”

He didn’t mention that his ex-girlfriend was still friends with his mother and likely on the phone with her this exact second. Hence the need for speed.

Rachel considered his words, then nodded slowly. “Fine. Your place. But I want you to consider my offer. I’m not trying to trap you.”

“Good to know.”



Rachel enjoyed her little convertible and she’d always liked driving the manual transmission. Only this afternoon she couldn’t stop shaking, which made it difficult to shift.

The conversation with Carter hadn’t gone at all the way she’d imagined. For one thing, he’d kept talking about the fact that she hadn’t called him. As if he’d wanted her to.

Honestly, the thought had never crossed her mind. She’d figured he slept with different women all the time and one more wasn’t going to make an impact on his life. Had she been wrong? Did he really care that she hadn’t called?

The thought was so foreign, she didn’t know how to process it in her brain. Adding to the confusion was his refusal to instantly sign off on the baby. She’d never thought he would want to take on that kind of responsibility. Weren’t women always complaining that men hated the idea of being tied down?

She had to make him understand they weren’t in this together. Dealing with being pregnant was hard enough, and not something she’d even begun to accept, but having to deal with Carter, too, was unimaginable.

She followed his large, black truck into a pleasant neighborhood, the kind populated by young families. When he pulled into the driveway of a pretty, one-story house, she parked in front and climbed out.

For a second, she looked around and felt herself get lost in the past. This was the sort of street where she’d grown up. Modest homes filled with parents and kids and lots of laughter. Even after all these years, she could remember everything about her old bedroom. The color of the wallpaper, the bookshelves on the wall, the way her mother would tease her about the mess on the floor.

Happy memories, she thought wistfully. Happy and so very, very sad.

“Rachel?”

She looked up and saw Carter waiting by the front door. She walked up the path and into his house.

The living room was open, with cream-colored drapes and pretty sage paint on the walls. The furniture looked relatively new and not the least bit like bachelor leather.

“Have a seat,” he said, closing the front door behind her. “You want something to drink?”

“I’m fine.”

She set the paperwork on the coffee table, then sank on the sofa. Now what?

Apparently Carter didn’t know, either. He paced the length of the room, paused in front of her, started to speak, shook his head and started pacing again. She reminded herself that she’d had several days to attempt to get used to the news and she still wasn’t dealing with it. The poor man would need some time.

“I didn’t plan this,” she said by way of a peace offering. “I want you to know that. What happened between us was totally unexpected.”

He looked at her and smiled. “I know. I was there.”

Somehow, she found herself getting lost in his brown eyes. She felt a pull between them. Something strong and powerful that made her want to stand up and step into his arms. Once there he would draw her close and…

Whoa! That’s what had gotten her in trouble in the first place, she thought.

She cleared her throat. “My point is, I don’t want you to be concerned. I can take care of myself.” She wasn’t sure how yet and thinking about being a single mother made her hyperventilate, but that wasn’t his problem. “I have no intention of trapping you. You can take as long as you’d like to look over the papers.”

His expression hardened. “Let’s get this clear right now. I’m not signing away my kid.”

He couldn’t mean that. “Do you want to be a father?”

“I didn’t plan on it this week, no. But we’re talking about my child.” He gave a strangled laugh. “Who am I kidding? My daughter. And you can’t have her.”

He stopped and put his hands on his hips. From her seated position, he looked very powerful and masculine and just a little intimidating.

“You can’t mean that,” she murmured, as caught off guard by his presence as by his words. “I never thought you’d be interested. You don’t know me.”

“Knowledge isn’t required. We did it, it happened, now we’ll deal with it.”

What he said sounded perfectly logical, but this was not the conversation she thought they’d be having.

But before she could say that, the front door burst open and three women entered. One was in her fifties, the others were about Carter’s age. Rachel stood and stared at them.

Carter groaned. “Mama, this is not a good time.”

“You’re one to talk about timing,” the older woman said, pushing past him to stand in front of Rachel. “A man who gets a woman pregnant without meaning to should talk about timing. Apparently he’s very good at it.”

Mama? As in…his mother?

She was about five foot two, with short blond hair and Carter’s eyes. Tiny, but Rachel could feel the energy pouring off her. The other two women were taller and pretty, but they were a little intimidating, too.

“H-how did you know?” she asked, not sure she wanted the answer.

Carter slumped into one of the club chairs opposite the sofa. “Jenny called her. Rachel, this is my mother, Nina Brockett, and two of my sisters, Liz and Merry. You don’t need to know who is who because they won’t be staying. Mama, this is Rachel.”

“Of course we’re staying,” his mother told him, then turned to Rachel. “You should sit.”

“Why would the bartender call you?” Rachel asked, wondering if this would ever make sense.

“Jenny’s a friend of the family,” Nina told her.

“We stay in touch with most of Carter’s old girlfriends,” one of his sisters offered. “There have been lots, but you’re the first one to get pregnant.”

Jenny from the bar was his ex-girlfriend?

“She’s married,” Carter said, as if he could read her mind. “I doubt you can make your escape now. You might as well sit.”

“Of course she should sit,” Nina said, moving next to Rachel, taking her hand and urging her back on the sofa. “She needs to rest. She’s going to have a baby.”

“The baby is maybe four cells big,” Carter told her. “I doubt it’s going to tire her out.”

Rachel looked at him. “You went out with Jenny?” she asked, feeling herself blush. “She pretended not to know who you were. She made me describe…”

She suddenly became aware of the other three women in the room and sank onto the sofa.

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered.

“That Jenny has a real sense of humor,” Carter muttered.

One of the sisters smiled. “She’s great. Carter was an usher in her wedding and she was a bridesmaid in mine.”

This was way too much information, Rachel thought frantically, glancing at the door and wondering if she could make a run for it. This wasn’t happening. She hadn’t just met Carter’s mother, two sisters and his ex-girlfriend.

Nina patted her hand. “You’ll be fine. This is shocking now, but that’s because Carter didn’t tell you about us. Why my only son wouldn’t mention his family to the mother of his child, I don’t know. But I’m only the mother. No one tells me anything.”

“Save me,” Carter muttered as he rubbed his temples. “Mama, you’re not helping.”

“Of course I’m helping,” his mother insisted. “I want to help. It’s what I do best. So, what were the two of you talking about when we got here?”

Rachel glanced at the envelope on the table. Suddenly Carter’s unwillingness to walk away from his unborn child made a little more sense.

“That’s private,” Carter told her.

“You might as well tell us,” one of his sisters said. “We’ll find out anyway.”

“No, you won’t,” Carter told her. He looked at Rachel. “If you want to make a run for it, I’ll cover your back.”

“She’s not running,” Nina said and it was only then Rachel realized the older woman still had a firm grip on her hand.

Rachel tugged it free. “Carter and I have some things we need to work out,” she said weakly.

“Of course you do.” Nina smiled at her. “You’re a nice girl, I can tell. You didn’t mean to get pregnant. But it happens. So we’ll deal with it.”

We? No, no. There was no we. “Technically, I’m the one who’s pregnant,” she began.

Carter’s gaze narrowed. “And I’m the father.”

“I’m not denying that,” Rachel said, bristling. “I’m the one who came to you.”

“I would have been happy to do things the other way,” he reminded her. “You didn’t call.”

The sisters looked at each other. “Really? You went out with Carter and didn’t call the next day?” one of them asked.

“Ah…”

“The women always call,” the other sister said. “Some of them won’t stop calling.”

“Ah…”

“It gets embarrassing,” the first one continued. “I want to take them aside and tell them to have a little pride.”

“It’s not their fault,” Nina said with a proud smile. “It’s my son.”

Rachel raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

Carter groaned. “Ignore them. I mean that.”

“Maybe I want to hear about ‘the women.’”

“You don’t,” he told her. “Trust me.”

“About the baby,” Nina said, breaking the mood. “We need to talk.” Nina patted the back of her hand. “I understand. If you young people insist on putting the cart before the horse, then they need to turn the horse around.”

“What?” Rachel and Carter asked together.

Nina glanced between them. “Isn’t it obvious? You have a baby coming. You need to get married.”




Chapter Four


Carter stood. He’d been willing to let the moment run its course. Thirty years of being his mother’s son had taught him that was the easiest way to deal with her. He would listen and then do exactly what he wanted. But mother or not, she’d just crossed the line.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he said flatly and walked to the door. “Great to see you all. Thanks for stopping by.”

His mother was about a foot shorter, but that never seemed to bother her. She rose and walked over until she was in front of him, staring up, glaring.

“Carter Brockett, I’m serious.”

“So am I, Mama. This isn’t about you. This is between me and Rachel. We’re going to deal with it and we don’t need your help.”

Her brown eyes narrowed. “You’re going to have a baby, Carter. This is serious.”

He knew she meant well. He knew she loved him and would gladly throw herself in front of a train for him. But sometimes she was the biggest pain in the butt.

He bent down and kissed her. “I know, Mama. Trust me, okay?”

She sighed heavily, then nodded. As she stepped out of the house, his sisters trailed after her. Merry grinned.

“You’re in big trouble, now,” she murmured as she passed.

“Thanks for the support.”

“Any time.”

He closed the door behind them.

Rachel still sat on the sofa, although she looked a little shell-shocked. His family had that effect on people. He’d seen it many times.

He walked into the kitchen and got her a glass of ice water, then returned to the living room. She stared at him, her green eyes wide, her mouth slightly parted.

“You doing okay?” he asked.

“No.” She took the glass he offered. “Who were those people?”

He sank back into his chair. “My family. Most of them, anyway. I have another sister around somewhere. She must not have been home or she would have been part of the parade, too.”

“You have three sisters, right?”

“I’m the youngest and the only boy. My dad died before I was bor so it was just me and them. A world of women.”

She sipped the water. “When you said women were the cause of all the trouble in your life, I thought you meant romantically.”

“That would have made things too easy. I’m surrounded by them. Even my dog, a stray Lab who showed up one day all skinny and pathetic, is female. Welcome to my world.”

She managed a small smile. “It’s not so bad. Your family obviously cares about you.” She took another drink. “Did Jenny really call your mother to tell her what she’d heard?”

“Oh, yeah. Jenny stayed pretty tight with her and my sisters. As have a lot of my ex-girlfriends. They show up at holidays or parties. I never know when I’m going to run into one.” Or twenty, he thought grimly. Why couldn’t his ex-girlfriends be like other women? Bitter and vindictive. Right now the idea of someone slashing his tires was a whole lot easier to deal with than someone like Jenny, who simply stayed in his world.

Not that he didn’t like Jenny—he did. She’d married a great guy, but damn, whose side was she on? Calling his mother and telling her Rachel was pregnant.

Rachel set down her glass and glanced at him. “I didn’t get pregnant on purpose.”

“I know. Neither of us planned on that. We just weren’t thinking.”

She ducked her head, but he saw her smile. “I was kind of swept away. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before.”

“Me, either.”

She looked up and rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I might not know you very well, but I’m getting a clear idea about your past. You seem to have women lined up around the block.”

“Sure, a lot of relationships, but that kind of heat?” He shrugged, trying to remember the last time he’d felt it. “It doesn’t happen very often.”

“Are you just saying that?”

The uncertainty in her voice added to her charm. They were already in so much trouble, Carter almost felt still being attracted to her couldn’t make things worse. Except he knew it could. A relationship would only complicate the situation. Better to keep his head and think clearly. If only she didn’t smell so good.

“I don’t do lines,” he told her. “You’re beautiful and sexy and funny. You dress like a nun and you have a body made for…ah, making love,” he said, self-editing to something less graphic. “What’s not to like?”

“Wow. When you say it like that, you were lucky to have me.”

He smiled. “Yes, I was. Only now there are consequences for us to deal with.”

“The baby.”

“Right. Rachel, I’m not giving up my daughter.”

“You don’t actually know the baby is a girl.”

“Yes, I do, but that doesn’t matter. We’re going to have to work something out, because I won’t sign those papers.”

He’d understood why she’d thought he might. Many guys would jump at the chance to walk away from this kind of responsibility, but he couldn’t. He’d been raised to believe family mattered more than anything.

She leaned forward and fingered the thick envelope. “I know. I mean I didn’t know before, but I do now.” She straightened and touched her stomach. “So what do we do? No offense, but I’m not going to accept your mother’s suggestion.”

“You don’t want to marry me?” he asked, his voice teasing.

“I don’t know you.”

“I’m a great catch.”

“You certainly don’t seem to have an ego problem.”

He grinned. “I have references.”

“Apparently in the hundreds.”

“Not that many.” He stood and moved to the sofa, where he angled toward her. “How about this. We have what, eight months until the baby is born?”

“Just about.”

“Okay, let’s take that time and figure out what we want to do. Not what my mother says is best. We’ll talk about the situation and come up with a plan.” He hesitated. “You’re going to keep the baby, aren’t you?”

She stiffened. “Of course. I want this child.”

“Me, too. So what do you say? We’ll take our time and consider our options. You live in the area, I live in the area, we could easily share custody. Or figure out something else that works. Let’s get to know each other and find out what works best for us.”

She bit her lower lip, which made him think about doing that for her, which made him think about other things. They were alone in the house.

Only that wasn’t a very good idea right now.

“You’re right,” she said, obviously oblivious to the temptation she represented. “We have time. We should use it.”

“Great.” He grabbed a pen and paper from the end table and wrote down his home and cell number. Then he held the sheet out to her. “You’re not going to throw it out again, are you?”

“No, I promise I won’t.”

She reached for the paper, but he held it out of reach. “Why didn’t you call me?”

She sighed. “Are you ever going to let that go?”

“Probably not until you answer the question.”

She sank back against the sofa. “I couldn’t call you, Carter. I honestly didn’t know what to say. I’d never done anything like that in my life. I was afraid of what you’d think of me. And I was afraid of what I’d think of myself.”

He dropped the paper in her lap and gave an exaggerated sigh. “I knew it. You were just using me for sex.”

She groaned. “You’re impossible.”

“Sometimes I’m even better than that.”

“Give me those.”

She reached across the sofa and grabbed the pen and paper from him. Suddenly they were very close, with her breasts pressing against his arm and one of her hands lightly touching his stomach.

His reaction was instant and predictable. Blood rushed south, and his brain went blank, except for the burning need to pull her into his arms.

Her gaze locked with his and he was gratified to see an answering fire there. Unfortunately, she had more self-control.

“I’ll, ah, give you my number,” she murmured as she drew back and quickly wrote down the information. “We should plan to get together and talk some more.”

“How about Saturday?” he asked.

She handed him back the pad. “Okay. Do you want to go out or…” She shook her head. “No matter what I say, it’s going to sound like a date.”

“It’s not a date,” he told her, suddenly wishing it was. “Let’s go casual. I’ll bring dinner to your place. That way we won’t be interrupted.”





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