Seven
T he minute Michael was out of sight, Parker dragged Cara to a sitting room she’d never seen before. That was no surprise. She was sure there were many rooms she still hadn’t visited.
This was one of the homier rooms. An inviting sitting area, a huge fireplace.
“So?” Parker said as soon as they’d settled on a sofa.
Cara felt uncomfortable under Parker’s intense scrutiny. “Stop staring at me like that.”
Her hand started to drift to her stomach, as if by covering it, she could hide the fact it was rounding more than slightly, but she caught herself and kept both hands firmly planted on her lap.
“Spill it,” Parker said, no request in the two words. It was a rather regal order.
“You’re pretty much caught up. What more is there to tell? Your brother asked me to marry him, I said no.”
Parker scoffed. “There’s more—a lot more—to this story. And if you don’t tell me, I’m calling in Shey. You know she’ll have you talking in minutes.”
Cara could picture Shey’s withering glare and knew that Parker was right, she’d crack.
Not ready to bow to the inevitable, she tried a delaying tactic. “Fine. I’ll tell you everything, but I’d rather wait until after the wedding. Then we’ll all have a heart-to-heart. You, me and Shey. The three of us.”
Parker shook her head with such ferocity that her blond hair whipped back and forth. “Sorry, no can do. This is big and I suspect you need me, even if you don’t want to admit it. Let me be here for you.”
Cara felt her eyes fill with tears again. She wasn’t a crier, had never been a crier, and suddenly it seemed she was always on the edge of tears. She blinked hard a couple times, hoping to hold them at bay, then said, “Parker, this is your time. I want you to focus on Jace. An intimate, romantic ceremony…Then in another month, a huge full-blown one for the public. Two weddings to the same man. It’s every woman’s dream. Concentrate on that. I’m fine.”
Her heart gave a small tug at the thought that she’d never have the kind of love Jace and Parker shared.
She and Michael did have something together. Chemistry would probably be the best word to describe it. But she wanted more. She wanted what Parker and Shey had found.
“Cara, honey,” Parker took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I love Jace, and there’s no need to concentrate on it. It just is. It’s my constant. Loving him is sort of the center of everything for me. So, there’s no need to wait to tell me. I can see something big is going on and I want to be here for you. Please don’t shut me out.”
Cara had known that keeping things from Parker was a losing battle, even if she’d felt the need to try.
“Okay,” she said, admitting defeat. “It’s more than just your brother asking me to marry him. The thing is…”
The sentence trailed off as Cara tried to decide how to say what needed to be said. She knew there was no way to soften the shock, so she just blurted out, “I’m pregnant. Your brother was just being noble—doing the right thing. I did say no because I deserve more than that. So does he. We both deserved more than someone trying to do the right thing.”
Parker didn’t say anything, though her shock was evident in her expression.
“I can’t marry your brother,” Cara continued hastily. “And I can see the worries starting, so let me assure you that I have it all planned. The baby can come to Titles with me. I know you and Shey won’t mind, not that Shey will be there, she’ll be with Tanner. But now that we’ve hired Shelly, she can take over while I’m on maternity leave, and help when I come back. How are things with her and Peter going? Are they still hot and heavy?”
“No changing the subject,” Parker scolded. “I’m still adjusting my reality to the fact you’re going to be a mother. Who’s this professor that Michael was talking about? And why isn’t he asking to marry you?”
Part of Cara wanted to keep the myth of Professor Stuart alive. It would be so much easier. And although she was pretty sure she could keep the professor story going with most of the world, she couldn’t lie to her friends.
“There is no professor,” she said softly. “I made him up. Michael’s the father.”
“Michael? But how? It’s only been—”
“A little over three months,” Cara supplied.
“Three months?” Parker repeated.
Cara saw the dawn of understanding on Parker’s face. “When he came on his last-ditch mission to bring me home?”
Cara nodded. “I didn’t know who he was. He didn’t know who I was. We met and it was an instant connection. I’ve never experienced anything like it.”
And she was sure it would never happen again. Lightning didn’t strike the same place twice.
“You’re the mystery woman he’s had Jace searching for?” Parker murmured.
She shrugged. “He did say he’d been looking.”
She hadn’t quite decided how to handle that information. Hadn’t figured out just what it meant.
“And this is his baby?” Parker asked. Then the realization sank in and she grinned. “Oh my, this is my brother’s baby, which means it’s my niece or nephew. I’m going to be an aunt.”
“No one can know that except you and Shey. No one else. As far as everyone else is concerned, Professor Stuart is the father.”
Parker’s happy smile faded. “But why?”
“You of all people need to ask me that? If your brother is the baby’s father, that means the baby is royal, and with that comes all the baggage you’re so anxious to get rid of. And can you imagine what the reporters would make of a prince’s illegitimate child? What kind of life would the baby have? Do you want that for your niece or nephew? Being hounded by the media? Look at the lengths you’ve gone to in order to have a small, private wedding ceremony before the more public affair.”
“Cara, I may not want this life, but I had a choice. How can you take that choice away from the baby? How can you deny your child his or her heritage?” She took a deep breath and looked as if she were trying to calm herself before she continued. “How can you deny Michael the right to be the father I know he will be?”
“I don’t know, Parker. That’s the truth of it. It’s all happening so fast. I didn’t know who Michael was until the airport. The only pictures I ever saw of him were taken when you were both small. I don’t know what to do. I need time to figure out what’s right for all three of us. I need to keep Professor Stu around for at least a while.”
Parker didn’t look happy about it, but slowly she nodded. “For a while. But Cara, the professor won’t work long-term.”
“I know. I—” She stopped short. “Can we just talk about something else for a while? Anything. Let’s talk about Pearly and Buster.”
Parker reached across the couch and squeezed her shoulder. “Yeah, we can. And when you’re ready, I’ll be here. Let me be here for you.”
Cara nodded. Tears were pooling in her eyes as the emotion clogged her throat. She couldn’t push any words out past it all, so she simply leaned over and hugged Parker.
When she let go, Parker said, “Now, about the Pearly situation. I asked her to come early. She’ll be here in a few days. You haven’t said anything to the ambassador?”
“Not a word. Watching them meet again after all this time…” Cara sighed and felt a wave of wistfulness sweep through her.
Having heard both Pearly and the ambassador talk of the other, she was sure this meeting would be special. It would be romantic.
And right now, Cara needed a romance to work out for someone.
Michael didn’t know what to do with himself as he waited for Cara and Parker to break up their little talk. Pacing the hall wasn’t much of a solution, but it was the best he could come up with. Pacing and wondering what his sister was saying to Cara.
Maybe Cara would confide in Parker. Maybe Parker would convince Cara to give him a chance.
Maybe.
The maybes were killing him.
Why couldn’t Cara see that they were meant to be together? What would it take to prove to her that he’d do anything for her and their child?
“Thinking about her?” Jace O’Donnell, the man who would be marrying his sister in a very short time, asked as he rounded the corner and entered Michael’s pacing zone.
He knew Cara didn’t want their relationship divulged, so he simply said, “Yes. I can’t seem to stop thinking of her.”
“Tell me about it. Once I met Parker I couldn’t get her out of my head or my heart. And man, that sounds lame even to me, but there it is.”
“You tried?” Michael asked, surprised. His sister was…well, he’d never admit it to her, but she was an amazing woman. “You tried to get over your feelings for Parker?”
“Repeatedly,” Jace assured him.
“But why?”
Jace gave him a look that sort of said, Duh.
Michael shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. Duh or no duh, he didn’t get it.
“She’s a princess, I’m a P.I.,” Jace finally said. “She’s royalty, and I’m…well, I’m not. It took me a while to see that our worlds could fit. That our differences made us stronger.”
“When she talks about you anyone can see that it doesn’t matter.” Michael shook his head. “I went to Erie to convince her to come home, but it only took a few minutes to realize she’d never come home except on visits. She’d met you and that was it.”
That’s how it had been when he’d met Cara. It. No going back. No turning around.
Cara was simply it for him.
“It was fast,” Jace admitted. “That’s part of what took me by surprise, the speed.”
“That’s how it goes in my family. Fast. You meet the right person and it’s…”
“Lightning,” Jace supplied.
“Yes, lightning,” Michael agreed. “Immediate. It’s just there. You can’t miss it.”
Well, he couldn’t miss it, but obviously Cara could.
“I’m sorry I was never able to find your mystery woman for you.” Jace slapped his shoulder in a brotherly show of sympathy.
“That’s all right.” Michael would have liked to have told Jace, but he was sure Cara wouldn’t appreciate it. Look at how she’d reacted when she’d thought he’d called Parker home.
“I know we don’t know each other well yet,” Jace said. “But if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that, appreciate all you’ve done.” Michael liked this man his sister was going to marry. There was something very genuine about him.
“Nothing to appreciate. You’re family.”
Family.
That was important.
Why couldn’t Cara see that they were meant to be a family, that she was meant to be with him?
Somehow he was going to convince her that they were meant to be together.
Jace had said it had taken him a while to see that his world and Parker’s worked together.
Cara had experienced just a small taste of Eliason, of his world. Maybe he’d give her a little more. Show her that she could contribute and enjoy aspects of the life he offered her.
Show her that their worlds meshed.
That they should be a family.
“Would you come with me today?” he asked the next day when he cornered Cara eating a hurried breakfast. “Just a short outing. No questions, no arguments, no Professor Stu.”
“Why?”
“Just because I asked. Because at dinner the other night, we mentioned trying to get to know more about one another. I’d like a chance to let you see a bit of what I do.”
“No talk of marriage or babies?” she countered.
“Cross my heart.”
He was up to something. She could sense it, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what.
She should say no. She needed to keep her distance, maintain some perspective. But he looked so excited, and that enthusiasm was contagious because she found herself saying, “I can’t be gone too long. I have work to do. The wedding’s just around the corner.”
“Now that Parker’s here, some of the pressure on you should be lifted.” He was leading her toward the main entryway.
“Just where are we going?”
“A quick trip to St. Mark’s. A surprise.”
He settled her in the limo and kept up a steady stream of chatter about the capital, pointing out various sights, filling her in on local history until the car came to a stop in front of an impressive brick building.
“St. Mark’s main library,” Michael told her before she could even ask. “They have a story time once a week, and today I’m the guest reader. I thought it might be something you’d enjoy.”
Cara didn’t know what to say, so she simply allowed Michael to lead her through the grand building into a small, cozy children’s area. That he’d thought about this, about something that would please her, touched her.
She noted that some of Michael’s bodyguards were discreetly spread throughout the area, but he didn’t seem to pay any attention to them. His focus was completely on the group of preschool children.
After a quick introduction by the librarian, he settled in and began reading a short picture book.
Watching him, listening to him do the voices and make sound effects, she could almost picture him holding their child and doing the same. The mental image tugged at her heart. She got lost in the fantasy, then abruptly realized he’d finished.
“I was wondering if you would like another story?” he asked the group. “I brought along my friend, Cara. She’s from America. And rumor has it, she does a lot of story times at her bookstore.” He looked at her. “Cara?”
There was nothing for her to do but move to the front of the room. Michael handed her a book. She looked down and saw Little Red Riding Hood and couldn’t help but laugh.
“You planned this,” she whispered.
“Guilty,” he said.
One of the little boys raised his hand, then immediately blurted out, “Are you the prince’s princess?”
Michael watched her, obviously waiting for her answer along with all the children in the room.
She shook her head. “No, I’m just a friend.”
“But maybe someday she’ll be my princess,” Michael assured the boy.
Cara shot him a behave look, and ignored the rest of the children whose hands flew into the air and the speculative look on the librarian’s face. “If you’ll all sit down, I’ll start. Once upon a time…”
She fell easily into the rhythm of the story. It was natural to her—reading to a group of children, surrounded by books.
During her time in Eliason, she’d been out of her element entirely. Castles, princes, pregnancy—she hadn’t realized how much stress she felt, until she reentered her comfort zone.
She tried to ignore Michael, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a group of children huddled around him. It painted an endearing picture. Like his care for his family, his devotion to his country, his obvious affection for children was something that pulled at her.
If she could just pretend he wasn’t here, maybe this brief respite would help her regain some sense of equilibrium. But there was no pretending. Michael seemed to always be at the forefront of her awareness.
“…The end.” The children clapped. And at the librarian’s suggestion, they began asking questions.
“What books do you like?” a cute blond girl asked.
“Harry Potter?” a boy shouted.
Cara breathed a sigh of relief. Here was a subject she could deal with. “I love Harry Potter, but he wasn’t around when I was little. When I was your age, or a little older, I read C. S. Lewis’s Narnia books. And Trixie Belden, L’Engle, Cleary…” She kept up a stream of titles and authors.
As she finished, another hand shot up. She nodded at a little redheaded boy. “Do you have any children?”
She caught herself as her hand began to move to her slightly rounded abdomen. “Not yet,” she replied honestly.
More hands.
“Are you and the prince going to get married?”
“No, the prince and I are just very good friends.” That is if you could call a rat a friend. With no warning at all he’d thrust her into his awkward position. “Speaking of friends, I have a very good friend who’s counting on me, so I really should be going.”
On cue, Michael stood and came up to the front of the crowd. Cara watched him as he flawlessly made their excuses and said goodbye. She wasn’t sure what today was about.
Why had he invited her along on this public appearance?
He casually steered her through the crowd of children and parents, stopping to chat now and again.
By the time they finally reached the limo, Cara’s confusion had her stomach in a knot.
Michael could tell Cara was annoyed. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that. She’d stewed silently most of the way back to the castle, then abruptly blurted out, “Would you mind telling me what that was all about?”
“Well, you’d mentioned Red Riding Hood, so I knew you were familiar with the story, and I find it’s easier to read books out loud that you know, so I—”
“Not the story choice. Why did you bring me along?”
“Because I’m hoping that eventually you’ll say yes to my marriage proposal, and I thought it might be a good idea for you to get a feel for what it is I do. Not just reading stories at libraries, but opening hospital wings, and all the other public appearances. It’s part of the job. Part of bearing the title. There’s a business side, too. There are a lot of facets of being royal.”
“But, I’m no princess.”
“I’m hoping, someday soon, you will be. And I wanted to show you that our worlds aren’t all that different. That we could fit together.”
She slipped back into silence, and Michael didn’t push any further.
He’d wanted to share with her some of what he did. It might not seem like much, but reading to kids, lending his name to various events, meant something to the people of Eliason, which made it an important aspect of his job.
He wanted her to know, because he’d meant what he’d said—someday soon he hoped she’d be taking a part, too.
With every passing day he became more sure of what he wanted. It was simple really. He wanted Cara and their baby.
What wasn’t so simple was convincing Cara. Why couldn’t she see that they had a chance at something special. Something his parents had. Something he’d been searching for before he even realized he wanted it.
He knew that if Cara Phillips gave him her heart, it would be forever.
That’s all Michael was asking for.
Forever.
Cara got out of the limo and jumped right back into a whirlwind of activity, but throughout the day Michael’s words kept intruding.
And I wanted to show you that our worlds aren’t all that different. That we could fit together.
Could they?
She pushed the thought away. Thankfully there were still so many arrangements to be made that she didn’t have time to think about Michael, about their outing, about what she was going to do.
At least she didn’t have much time. But his words occasionally crept in. …we could fit together.
By that night she’d exhausted herself and should have slept like the dead, but the questions kept spinning in her head. Could she do it? Could she stay here in Eliason?
Sleep wouldn’t come. She tossed and turned, worrying about what to do. What was the fair solution for herself, for Michael, and most importantly, for their baby?
She got up the next day and did it all again. Frenzied work, restless night, questions chasing themselves round and round in her head.
…our worlds aren’t all that different. That we could fit together.
Two mornings later, after the library visit, Cara was at her makeshift desk checking messages, when she noticed a book that hadn’t been there when she’d left. She looked at the title. Nine Months.
Sections were highlighted.
A pregnancy time line had hurdles checked off, other sections with question marks by them.
Another section was marked. She flipped to it and found a week-by-week photo journal of a baby’s development. One had writing next to it. Our baby this week.
The tears welling in her eyes began to fall in earnest.
Not just a few tears, but all-out crying. Tiny sobs that she tried to hold in but eventually erupted.
Cara didn’t cry prettily. No Hollywood tears here. Her eyes felt raw and her nose was running like a spigot.
Our baby this week.
Michael had obviously spent all his spare time reading the book, trying to understand what she was going through. Why? Because he loved this baby.
She realized she’d known that all along.
He loved their baby as much as she did.
How on earth could she go back to Erie and take their baby with her? Michael couldn’t follow. He had responsibilities here.
She cried even harder.
What was she going to do? How could she make this situation work out fairly for both herself and Michael? Even more importantly, how could she make things right for their baby?
Somehow she had to get these darned pregnancy hormones under control. She was tired of crying. Tired of feeling unsure.
“ Cara mia, what’s wrong?” Michael, aka The Shadow, came into the office.
“You have to stop stalking me.” She sniffed and brushed at her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he repeated.
“Nothing.” She slid the book under a pile of papers.
He spotted it and pulled it out. “You found the book.”
“It wasn’t fair.”
“It wasn’t meant to be,” he assured softly.
Cara jumped out of the chair and walked along the terrace.
She didn’t have to hear him to know Michael was following. She tried to ignore the fact and stared at the fountain in the garden. The steady stream of water was soothing to her very frazzled nerves.
She felt Michael right behind her. Not touching, but far too close. “When we’re married—”
“We’re not getting married.”
He ignored her interruption and continued, “I can picture how it will be when we’re married. I’ll just sit with you and we’ll talk about our day, share whatever tidbits the other missed. We’ll talk about our children.”
“Children?” she echoed. “As in the plural of child? ”
“ or eight, at least,” he assured her without his usual teasing grin. He looked very serious.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said.
“The number is negotiable,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “What were you thinking? More? Ten maybe? You should have a lot of children. You’ll be a wonderful mother.”
“You have no way of knowing that. I was thinking this one is about all I can handle,” she said.
“Three then? It’s a nice compromise. Yes, three would be good.”
“Three?” she echoed. “Why, we’d be outnumbered.”
He gave her hand a quick, comforting squeeze. “One’s fine for now. Unless it’s twins. I’d like twins. Of course, we’d never dress them the same. I’d want them each to have their own individual identity.”
“No way.” Cara shook her head. She was desperately afraid one would be her undoing. After all, what did she know about babies?
Nothing.
A big fat nada .
It amazed her that Michael seemed so at ease with the idea of a baby…babies.
“Ah, so we agree. If we have twins no rhyming cutesy names, and no dressing them the same. We’ll allow them each to pursue their individual interests.”
“No twins,” she said, praying that it was so.
Twins?
She still hadn’t totally wrapped her brain around the idea of being a mother to one.
“Have they done a sonogram yet?” he asked. “Do you know for sure it’s not twins?”
“Yes, they did a sonogram right before I left, but no one said anything about twins. And truly, I hope they don’t.”
She stopped farther along the terrace, staring now at the beautifully manicured garden. Would her baby ever play there?
“Fine.” He had followed her and stood close behind her, but not actually touching her. “No twins. But did they tell you the sex yet?”
“It was too early, but even when they can tell, I don’t want to know. I prefer being surprised.” Even though there was no physical contact, Cara felt as if her every nerve had leaped to attention with Michael’s proximity.
What was it about this man?
“A surprise then.” He sounded disappointed.
“You’d want to know?” She turned to him. Big mistake. His eyes were so blue. Not a normal blue…brighter somehow. They drew her in, even though she tried not to slip.
“Here’s a secret,” he said softly, conspiratorially. Small lines crinkled around his eyes. “I peek at my Christmas presents every year. Always have. My mother used to try everything. Hiding them. Duct taping boxes. But I always found them or figured out a way to open them. She couldn’t prove I’d seen them, but knew I had. Mothers know those kinds of things. It’s just I was never good at surprises. But for you, I’ll wait.”
Cara smiled at the small glimpse of Michael’s past, of his secret present-opening vice.
“If you really want to know, I’m sure Tommy would tell you, but you’d have to promise not to tell me.”
He shook his head. “I’ll wait with you.”
“Thanks.” She realized she was holding his hand. It felt right.
“You know,” Michael said, “this is the first time we’ve talked about our baby and you haven’t brought up the professor.”
“I—” Cara started, ready to assure him that even though she hadn’t mentioned Stuart, it didn’t mean she wasn’t keeping him around. But Michael interrupted.
“Don’t—” he warned. “I’m sure you’ll have more Professor Stu stories later, but for now let me imagine him dead and buried.”
She tsk-tsked. “Poor Stu. It was a tragedy to lose him when he was so young and vibrant.”
“Vibrant?” Michael shook his head. “He was a stick-in-the-dirt.”
“Mud,” Cara corrected him. “The phrase is stick-in-the-mud. ”
“Mud. Dirt. All I know is poor Stu won’t be lamented. Won’t be missed. It was a tragic, gruesome end. Would you like me to tell you how it happened?”
His grin was infectious and Cara couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve given this some thought.”
“Maybe just a bit,” he confessed.
She chuckled.
“I like your laughter. When I walked in on you, Parker and my mother the other day, you were laughing as you discussed flowers. Your laughter, it does something to me. I want to hear it every day. I want to see you smile.”
“I—”
“No, don’t say anything. You’re feeling better now, let’s keep it that way.”
“My emotions have been somewhat out of control. I’ve always cried at sappy commercials, but now I don’t even have to see them, I just have to think about them and I start tearing up.”
“The book said it’s hormonal. Normal. Pregnant women have huge mood swings under the best of circumstances. And you’ve probably got more on your mind than most expectant mothers. Like my marriage proposal.”
“You don’t give up, do you?”
He pulled her close. “Persistence is my middle name.”
“Well, at least it’s one of them,” she said, teasing him. “You royals sure do load up on the whole name thing.”
“That’s the way of it. There are just too many relatives we can’t afford to offend. Speaking of names,” he said, the prince of casualness, “I’ve been thinking about our baby’s name. Do you have any picked out?”
Cara had been thinking about names ever since the pregnancy test had had that little plus sign. “I like more traditional names. Maybe Ruth?”
Michael didn’t say a word, he just wrinkled his nose.
“Mary Margaret then?” she tried. “We could call her Maggie.”
Another nose wrinkle.
“Okay, Mr. Smarty-pants. What do you suggest?”
“Persephone.”
“Ugh.” Cara rolled her eyes and made a gagging motion, just in case he didn’t understand what ugh meant. “Do you want to set this child up for years of abuse from her peers? Persephone?”
“A name should mean something. My many names represent my family history. And cara mia— ”
“Plain old Cara,” she corrected, though that familiar little shiver climbed up her spine as he said it. She’d never admit it to Michael, but his cara-mias still affected her.
He just smiled and repeated, “ Cara mia. It means something to me.”
She decided to ignore discussions on just what cara mia meant and honed in on the name he wanted to saddle their poor baby with. “But Persephone?”
“Do you know the story?” he asked.
“Mythology, right?”
He nodded. “She was carried away by Hades and her mother, Demeter, was so distraught that she wouldn’t allow anything to grow. Finally, Zeus ordered Hades to release Persephone, but it was too late. She’d eaten some seeds and could never truly leave. She was forced to spend a third of her time in the underworld. When she was with her mother, the earth was fertile, a paradise. But when she was with Hades, the land was barren, bereft. Persephone lived a divided life. So will our child, shuttling back and forth between us, never really belonging anywhere.”
“Isn’t likening us to moving between heaven and hell a bit much?” Cara asked softly, though she knew the truth of Michael’s words.
When she left him, she’d be breaking her own heart more than Demeter’s ever was.
“No.” The sadness in his voice tugged at her.
“ I will be between heaven and hell—having time with you and then time without. Marry me, cara mia. ”
“I won’t marry someone because I have to.”
“I want us to raise our child together. You and me. Marriage is the right thing.”
Say the words, she silently begged. Just tell me you love me and I’ll stay.
With sudden clarity, Cara realized that she needed him to love her because…she loved him.
She might try to deny the feeling. Might rationalize it and tell herself it was too soon to love him. But the truth was, too soon or not, rational or not, she loved him.
Say the words, she silently begged, wanting to tell him her feelings. All he had to do was say there was no have-to involved, only love.
He’d said he desired her, that he’d thought about their night together long after he’d left Erie. But desire wasn’t enough. He wanted to be a father to their baby, wanted to build a family. But even that wasn’t enough.
He didn’t say the words.
And though they were on the tip of Cara’s tongue, neither did she.
“I need time to think,” she finally whispered.
His hand brushed her now-well-rounded stomach. “There’s not much time, sweetheart. And there’s so much on the line.”
“So much,” she sadly echoed.
Her heart.
Her heart was on the line. And all it would take were those three little words to save it from breaking.
“Dinner tonight? Just you and me. The wedding guests will start arriving soon and then there won’t be much time.” He paused and added, “No talk of anything serious. Just the two of us, as if we’d just met and I’d asked you out.”
“Yes,” she said. Maybe if they spent time together he’d figure out that there was more than just a baby between them…. There was love.