Kitabı oxu: «An Accidental Family»

He forced himself to ignore the hurt in her tone. He needed to build the distance between them back up. But when she turned those big blue eyes on him something long buried inside him cracked.

“Lainey—”

She gave a little shake of her head as she reached her car. “Thanks again.”

To hell with it.

Ben turned her around as she fumbled in her pocket for her keys. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, but before she could say anything he dipped his head and covered her mouth with his.

After a heartbeat, her cold mouth opened and let him into her warmth. It had been so long since he’d felt anything, anything, and she was warm and soft and so, so sweet. He fisted his hand in her hair to angle her head, so he could go deeper, and her moan lit fires inside him that had long been dormant.

For a reason.

He broke the kiss and stepped back, his ragged breath catching in his chest. God, what had he done?

She blinked up at him, her gaze smoky and slightly confused. Then her eyes cleared and a look of pure horror crossed her face.

“I’ve got to go,” she said, yanking her keys out of her pocket.

“Lainey, I’m sorry.”

As soon as the words were out he knew they were the wrong thing to say.

Dear Reader,

You are holding in your hands my very first published book! It’s been quite a ride—it’s been a 2012 RWA^® Golden Heart^® Finalist and a 2011 Mills & Boon New Voices Top 21 Finalist, both of which opened doors I couldn’t even imagine. Now, I’m writing this letter for you before you read Lainey and Ben’s story. I’m still pinching myself!

Lainey’s struggling—she’s trying so hard to get her life going the way she thinks it’s supposed to be, but she just keeps getting curve after curve pitched her way. Ben is struggling too, but with inner demons that keep him from reaching for what he really wants. Together, the two of them learn that age-old lesson about best-laid plans and that, really, sometimes you’ve got to take a leap of faith to find your way home.

Please visit me at amiweaver.com and say hello!

All my best,

Ami Weaver

About the Author

Two-time Golden Heart^® finalist AMI WEAVER has been reading romance since she was a teen and writing for even longer, so it was only natural she would put the two together. Now she can be found drinking gallons of iced tea at her local coffee shop while doing one of her very favourite things—convincing two characters they deserve their happy-ever-after. When she’s not writing she enjoys time spent at the lake, hanging out with her family and reading. Ami lives in Michigan with her four kids, three cats, and her very supportive husband.

This is Ami Weaver’s fabulous first book for Mills & Boon!

An Accidental
Family
Ami Weaver

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

For the Wicked Muses: Chelle, Jodie, Marcy and Rae.

Thank you for all your help. I love you all.

And for Dale, who believed. xo

CHAPTER ONE

THE STICK WAS pink.

Lainey Keeler squeezed her eyes shut, lifted the test with one trembling hand, then peeked with her right eye only.

Yup. Definitely a pink line. Maybe she needed to check the instructions to be sure….

Oh, God. How had this happened?

Okay, so she knew the technicalities of the how. In fact, she knew the when. Lord help her, that was the kicker.

Her eyes swam and her stomach rolled as she reached for the test box anyway, knowing what she’d see there. Knowing the result would read the same as the four other sticks—all different brands—in the garbage.

Knowing she’d been screwed in more ways than one.

So this was the price she paid for one night of lust infused with a heavy dose of stupidity. She slumped on the cold tile of the bathroom floor and let her head thunk on the vanity door. Hysterical laughter bubbled in her throat and she pressed her fingertips to her temples. Did it count, fifteen years after graduation, that she’d finally bedded the star quarterback? The same one she’d nurtured a killer crush on all through high school?

And managed to conceive his baby?

“And here I thought I had the flu,” she said to her calico cat, who observed her from the doorway. Panda’s squinty blink in response could have meant anything. “Why didn’t being pregnant occur to me?”

Single and pregnant. Right when she was starting a new business and her life couldn’t be more unstable.

What would her parents say? She winced at the thought. At thirty-three, she was supposed to be burning up the career ladder. Instead, much to her family’s chagrin, she burned through careers.

Chewing her lower lip, she took a last look at the pink line, then tossed the test stick in the trash with the others. Five pregnancy tests couldn’t be wrong, no matter how much she wished it. She needed a plan.

“A plan is good,” she said to the cat in the doorway. Panda meowed in response. Shoot, what was she going to do? She stepped over the cat and hurried into the small hallway, facing straight into her pocket-sized bedroom. Panic kicked up a two-step in her belly. She’d need a bigger place. The cozy one-bedroom apartment above her shop, The Lily Pad, worked beautifully for one person and an overweight cat. But adding a baby to the mix …? Babies needed so much stuff. She laid her hand on her still-flat belly. A baby.

Good God, she was going to be a mother.

She clenched her eyes shut and willed the tears away. What kind of mother would she be? Her ex and her family told her over and over she tended to be flighty and irresponsible. A baby meant responsibility, stability.

What if it turned out they were right? She certainly hadn’t demonstrated good judgment on the night of her reunion.

The thought sliced her to the core and she took a deep breath. No time to cry. Not when she had a shop to open in a few minutes. Beth Gatica, her friend and employee, was already downstairs. She swiped at her eyes, tried to think.

“Where do I start?” she wondered aloud, trying to get her head clear enough to think.

A doctor. She’d need a doctor. Her usual doctor happened to be a friend of her family’s, so she’d definitely have to head over to Traverse City. Since she felt better with something to do, she reached for the phone book.

“Lainey?” Beth’s voice came through the door connecting the apartment to the shop. “Are you okay?”

Lainey fumbled the phone book and caught sight of herself in the small mirror next to the door. Dark blond hair already escaping from her ponytail? Check. Dark circles under her eyes? Check. Pasty skin? Yikes. Wasn’t there supposed to be some kind of pregnancy glow? “I’m fine,” she called. “Be right there.”

“Okay, good. Because we’ve got a problem.”

Well, of course they did. Lainey marched over and yanked open the door, almost grateful for the distraction. “What kind of problem?”

“Come see.” Beth turned and hurried down the stairs, long dark curls bouncing. The fresh, cool scent of flowers hit Lainey as they entered the workroom. Beth tipped her head toward the older of the two walk-in coolers. “It’s not cold enough, Laine. It’s set where it’s supposed to be, but it’s nearly twelve degrees warmer in there.”

“Oh, no.” No. She needed the cooler to last another year—like she needed the van with its iffy transmission to last another six months. Preferably twelve. A headache began to pulse at the edges of her brain at the thought of her nearly empty bank account. Using only one cooler would mean reducing inventory, which meant possibly not being able to meet the needs of her customers. Which meant less income. And she couldn’t afford to lose a single cent at this point.

To say The Lily Pad operated on a shoestring budget was to put it optimistically.

She pulled open the door, even though she didn’t doubt Beth. She could feel the difference as soon as she walked in. She tapped the thermostat with her finger. Maybe it was stuck somewhere? She should be so lucky.

“Call Gary at General Repair,” she said to Beth. “See if he can get us in today.”

“On it.” Beth hurried to the phone.

Lainey headed to the working cooler to do some rearranging. Some of the more delicate flowers would have to be moved over.

She tamped down the spurt of fear and worry that threatened to explode. No point inviting trouble, and Lainey figured she had enough to fill her personal quota. She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh, green scent of the flowers, with their overtones of sweet and tangy and spicy. It always, always relaxed her just to breathe in the flowers.

But not enough, today, to rid her of her worries. About choking coolers. About babies. Lainey smothered a sigh. If she’d stayed home two months ago part of her predicament wouldn’t be here. She’d invited trouble. Or, more accurately, trouble had invited her.

Of course she hadn’t turned him down.

“Gary will be here at eleven,” Beth said from behind her. “Want me to help move things?”

Lainey glanced at her watch. An hour and a half. “Sure. We’ll just move a few for now. Let’s group them by the door so we can open it a minimum of times.” The colder it stayed in there, the better for her bottom line. She couldn’t afford to lose a cooler full of flowers.

“Are you okay, Laine? You’re awfully pale,” Beth commented as she lifted a bucket of carnations out of the way.

Lainey sucked in a breath. Should she tell Beth? They’d been friends for years. Beth wouldn’t ridicule her for her mistake with Jon. It would feel so good to tell someone….

“Lainey?” Beth’s head was cocked, her brown gaze worried. “What’s going on?”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted, and burst into tears. Beth hurried over to her, nearly knocking a bucket over in the process.

“Honey, are you sure?”

Lainey nodded and swiped at the tears. “Pretty sure.” Five separate pink lines couldn’t be wrong. Could they? “I’ll have to go to a doctor to confirm it, though.”

“Oh, Laine.” Beth hugged her, stepped back. “How far along? I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

Lainey closed her eyes. Here we go. “Well, I’m actually not. I’m about eight weeks along.” She’d let Beth do the math.

“So that’s—oh.” Beth drew out the word and her eyes rounded. “Your class reunion.”

“Yeah.” Lainey couldn’t meet her friend’s gaze. Her poor baby. How could she ever explain the circumstances of his or her conception?

“So who’s the daddy?”

“Jon Meier.” Lainey could barely say his name. “We … ah … hit it off pretty well.”

Beth gave a wry chuckle and opened the cooler door, a load of calla lilies in her hands. “So it seems.”

“I have to tell him, Beth, but he lives so far away. Plus the whole thing was pretty forgettable, if you know what I mean. We used protection, but obviously …” She shrugged and swiped at her leaking eyes again. “It didn’t work.” An understatement if she’d ever heard one.

“He’s not father material?”

“I don’t know.” It wasn’t as if they’d discussed things like personal lives. “Plus he lives in LA. He’s in some kind of entertainment industry work. He’s not going to pull up and move back to Northern Michigan.” He’d made his contempt for the area crystal-clear.

“Sometimes having a kid changes that,” Beth pointed out.

“True.” Lainey didn’t want to think about it. “But I think we were pretty much in agreement on how awkward the whole thing was.” So much for sex with no strings attached. The baby in her belly was a pretty long string. The length of a lifetime, in fact.

She wanted to bang her head on the wall. What had she been thinking, leaving with Jon that night? Was her self-esteem so damaged by her divorce she had to jump on the first guy who smiled at her?

Best not to answer that.

“I think you’ll be a wonderful mom,” Beth said, and Lainey’s throat tightened.

“Really?” She couldn’t keep the wobble out of her voice. Beth’s confidence touched her. Her family would look at her being single, pregnant and nearly broke and lose their collective minds. She shoved the thought aside.

“Of course. You’re wonderful with my kids. Now, let’s get this finished before Gary gets here.”

“It could go at any time?” Lainey could not believe she’d heard the repairman correctly. A year—she only needed twelve measly months. Why, oh, why was that too much to ask? “Are you sure?”

“Yes. We can cobble this along for a few more months. But you are definitely going to need a new unit.” Gary’s lined face wasn’t without sympathy.

She took a deep breath. “Do what you have to, Gary. I need it to last as long as possible.”

The repairman nodded and returned to the cooling unit.

Beth stood at the counter, ringing up a large bouquet of brightly colored carnations. A great sale, but not nearly enough to buy a new cooler. Or even a used one.

“Thank you. Have a great day,” Beth said to the customer as he exited the shop. To Lainey she said, “What’s the news?”

“We’re going to need a new cooler. Sooner rather than later, probably.” Exhaustion washed over her and she sank down on the stool behind the counter. “Even used, that’s not something I can swing yet.” Or possibly ever. No cooler, no business. No business, no cooler.

No business, no way to provide for the baby.

A wave of nausea rolled through her at the thought. Another failure. This one could be huge.

“Oh, man.” Beth leaned on the counter. “Well, let’s see. We’ve got the Higgins wedding coming up. We need more weddings. The funeral business has been picking up. That’s good. Maybe….”

She hesitated, and Lainey knew what her friend hadn’t said.

“Maybe if my mother sent business my way we wouldn’t be in this predicament,” she finished. “I know. I agree. I’ve asked.” The answer, while not in so many words, was that the florist her mother used had been around a lot longer and wasn’t in danger of folding. The implication? Lainey would fail—again.

Beth winced. “I know you have. I just wish she’d support you. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“It’s okay. It’s the truth. I don’t know what will change her mind.” Lainey stood up. “Let’s finish getting the deliveries ready.”

As Lainey gathered flowers and greenery she wondered if she’d let her business go under rather than ask her parents for a loan. They’d give her one, with plenty of strings attached, and she’d have to crawl to get it. This was supposed to be her chance to prove she could make something of her life without advanced degrees or a rich husband.

Right about now it didn’t seem to be working.

Gary came out of the cooler, toolbox in one hand, invoice in the other. “You’re all fixed up, Ms. Keeler. Can’t say how long it’ll last. Could be one month. Could be six. I’m sorry I don’t have better news.”

“The fact it’s running right now is wonderful,” Lainey said. “Thank you. I appreciate you coming on such short notice.”

“Anytime. Have a good day, ladies.” He left the store and the bell above the door chimed, its cheerful sound mocking Lainey’s mood. She looked at the amount on the invoice and sighed.

She’d known when she bought the shop nine months ago there were no guarantees on equipment. Even in her current financial bind she didn’t regret taking the plunge. This shop felt right to her in a way none of her other jobs ever had. Right enough, in fact, that she hoped to someday buy the building outright.

Working steadily throughout the morning, they completed their orders. The repair seemed to be holding for now, thank goodness. Lainey slid the last of the arrangements into the back of the van and closed the door. “All set, Beth. Hopefully we’ll get more this afternoon.”

“Fingers crossed.” Beth climbed in and turned the ignition. She leaned back out the window. “I’ll stop at Dottie’s Deli and grab lunch on the way back. I think we’ve each earned a cheesecake muffin after this morning.”

“Mmm.” Lainey perked up at the thought. Everyone knew the calories in Dottie’s heavenly muffins didn’t count. “Sounds wonderful. Thanks.”

She held her breath as Beth thunked the old van into gear and drove off. Relief washed over her. After this morning she’d half expected the thing to go belly-up out of spite.

“Don’t borrow trouble,” she reminded herself as she turned and went inside.

The chime of the door caught her attention and she hurried to greet the customer.

Fifteen minutes later she started on a new arrangement, this one for a new mom and baby at the hospital. They really needed more of this kind of business—more happy occasions like …

Babies.

Pregnant.

Lainey gulped and gripped the edge of the worktable, her eyes on the array of delicate pastel flowers she’d gathered. She only had about seven months to stabilize her shop and get ready to be a new mom herself. A single new mom.

Seven months.

No one could ever accuse her of doing things the easy way.

Ben Lawless pulled into the driveway of his grandmother’s old farmhouse and stared. Same white paint, black shutters. The wide porch was missing its swing, but two rockers sat in its place. The two huge maples in the front yard had dropped most of their leaves. Funny, he’d been gone for so many years but this old house still felt like home.

He frowned at the strange car parked behind his grandmother’s trusty Buick. Last thing he wanted was to talk to anyone other than his grandma, to deal with friendliness and well-meaning questions. Acting normal was exhausting.

He pushed open the truck door, stepped out and scanned the layout of the front yard. Plenty of room for a ramp, though some of the porch railing would have to be removed, and it would block one of the flowerbeds lining the house’s foundation. He kicked at the leaves littering the cracked walkway. The uneven concrete posed a hazard even to an able-bodied person. Why couldn’t Grandma admit she needed help?

Why did you assume she didn’t need it?

His self-recrimination didn’t get any farther as the front door opened and framed his beaming grandmother in her wheelchair. He tried not to wince at the sight. She’d always been so tough, strong and able, and now she looked so small. He moved up the walk and the stairs to the porch.

“Grandma.” He bent down to give her an awkward hug in the chair, afraid to hold on too tight. “How are you?”

She hugged him back firmly and patted his face. “I’m good. Making the best of this, I hope.” She studied his face for a moment, her clear blue eyes seeing too much. “I’m so glad you’re here. Not sleeping well?”

He straightened, not surprised by the observation. “Good enough.”

She gave him a look, but dropped the subject and rolled back into the house. “Where are my manners? Come in, come in. I want you to meet a very good friend of mine.”

Ben braced himself as he followed her across the familiar living room to the kitchen. Hopefully this friend wasn’t one of the mainstays of Holden’s Crossing’s gossip mill. Last thing he needed was word getting out and people asking him questions or making accusations. He stopped dead when he looked into the cool blue gaze of the gorgeous—and young—blond at the kitchen table.

“Ben Lawless, meet Lainey Keeler. Lainey, this is my grandson. The one who’s a firefighter in Grand Rapids.” The pride in Rose’s voice made Ben’s stomach twist. “Lainey was a few years behind you in school, Ben.”

No way. This was his grandmother’s friend? Long dark blond ponytail, a few strands loose around a heart-shaped face. Clear blue eyes, smooth creamy skin. Full breasts a snug pink tee didn’t hide. He gave her a brief nod, forced the proper words out. “Nice to meet you.”

Her smile curved, but didn’t reach her eyes. “Same here. Rose has told me so much about you.”

“Did she?” He tensed at her comment, then forced himself to relax. It didn’t mean she actually knew anything. He rested his hand on his grandmother’s thin shoulder. “Grandma, I’m going to bring in my things, okay?”

Lainey rose. “I’ll walk you out.” She leaned down to plant a kiss on his grandma’s cheek and gave her a hug. “I’ll see you in a couple of days, Rose.”

“Don’t work too hard, honey,” Grandma said, and Ben nearly laughed. If he remembered correctly, none of the Keelers had to work. They’d been given anything and everything on the proverbial platter.

Ben caught a whiff of her scent, something floral, as she moved past him. Since he’d gotten boxed in, he followed her out into the cool early October night.

Once on the porch, she turned to him with a frown. “She’s glad you’re here.”

“And you’re not.”

Those big blue eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure. She’s been struggling for months now. Where were you then?”

Temper flared at the accusation in her tone. He’d felt bad enough once he’d realized how much help his grandma needed. He didn’t need this chick sticking her nose in, too. No matter how hot she was. “She isn’t big on admitting she needs help.” Seemed to run in the family.

Lainey gave him a look that said he was full of it and stomped off the porch. “She’s in her eighties. How could you not come visit and check on her?”

Guilt lanced through him. “She always said she was fine, okay? I’m here now.” Why did he care if this woman thought he was a total heel?

She shrugged. “You still should have checked on her. How far is it up here? She’s so proud of you. But you never bothered to visit.”

Even in the dim light he saw the sparks in her blue gaze, the anger on his grandmother’s behalf. “I’m here now,” he said, his own temper rising.

“Till you leave. Then where will she be?” She spun around and strode across the yard.

God help him, he couldn’t pull his gaze off her tight little tush. She climbed in the little car and slammed the door. The spray of gravel that followed her out to the road said it all.

Well, great. He’d managed to tick off his grandmother’s hot little friend.

Ben shook his head and stepped off the porch, walked to his truck to get his bags. He’d done something far worse than that. His best friend was dead, thanks to him, and any problems with Lainey Keeler were not even on his list of important things. It made no difference what she thought of him.

Back inside, his grandma frowned at him. “Why were you rude to Lainey?”

But of course it would matter to Grandma. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. I didn’t know you two were friends.”

“We are. We met awhile back when she volunteered for Senior Services and just clicked, as you young people say. She comes out every Wednesday. More if she can. I didn’t think you knew her.” His grandmother’s eyes were sharp on his face.

“I don’t. Just knew of her. She was four years behind me in school, as you said. How are you feeling?”

She studied him for a second, then seemed to accept the change of topic. “Every day is a little harder. I’m so glad you’re here and can make this old house a little easier to live in. I don’t want to leave it.”

These last words were spoken in a soft tone. Ben knew this was the only home she’d lived in with his grandfather, her husband of fifty years. Her best friend.

The kind of love and relationship he’d ended for Jason and Callie.

Pain pounded at his temples and he closed his eyes. He shoved it down, locked it back into the deepest part of him he could. Thing was, that place was nearly full these days.

“You won’t have to leave, Grandma. You’ll have to tell me what you’d like done besides the ramp. Even in the dark I noticed the walk out front has seen better days.”

Her smile was rueful. “A lot around here has seen better days, Ben.”

“We’ll get it fixed up, Grandma. You won’t have to leave,” he repeated.

“I know. I’m very grateful to you.” She maneuvered the chair toward the living room. “Let me show you to your room. Well, partway anyway.”

Ben started to say he knew where it was, but of course she’d have taken over the downstairs bedroom after the arthritis in her hip got too bad. “Which one?” There were three upstairs.

She stopped at the base of the stairs and looked up, the sorrow and longing clear on her face. “The back bedroom. It has the best view and is the biggest room. Lainey freshened it up for you. Dusted, clean sheets, the whole shebang. The bathroom is ready, too.”

His grandparents’ old room.

“Okay. Tell her thanks for me.”

Grandma backed her chair up and gave him a little smile. “You can tell her yourself. Didn’t I mention she visits a lot?”

He stared at her. Uh-oh. “Grandma. I’m not interested.”

She slid him a look and her smile widened. “No one said you were.”

He’d walked right into that one.

Smoke filled the room, smothering him, searing his lungs, his eyes, his skin. God, he couldn’t see through the gray haze. A cough wracked him, tearing at his parched throat. He couldn’t yell for his friend. Where was Jason? He couldn’t reach him. Had to get him out before the house came down around them. A roar, a crack, and a fury of orange lit the room. The ceiling caved in a crash fueled by the roar of flames. He spun around, but the door was blocked by a flaming heap of debris. Under it, a boot. Jason. Coming to save him.

Ben woke with a start, his eyes watering and the breath heaving out of his lungs as if he’d been sprinting for his life. Where the hell was he? Moonlight slanted through the window, silver on the floor. The curtain stirred in the faint breeze. He sat up and pushed himself through the fog of sleep. Grandma Rose’s house. Had he cried out? God, what if she’d heard him? Shame flowed over him like a lava river. He stepped out of bed, mindful of the creaky floor, and walked down the hall to the bathroom near the landing.

No sound came from downstairs.

He exhaled a shaky breath and went into the bathroom. He’d been afraid of this—of the nightmare coming. He had no power over it—over what it was, what it did to him. No control.

He turned on the squeaky faucet with unsteady hands and splashed cold water on his face. There’d be no more sleep for him tonight.

CHAPTER TWO

LAINEY WALKED INTO Frank’s Grocery after closing the shop and pulled out her mental shopping list. Nothing fancy. Just sauce, pasta, shrimp, some good cheese. If she had more energy she’d make the sauce from scratch, but not tonight. So far the hardest thing about being pregnant was being so tired at the end of the day. She grabbed a basket from the stack and headed for the first aisle.

She came to a dead stop when she spotted the tall, dark-haired man frowning at the pasta sauce display.

Oh, no. Ben Lawless.

She didn’t want to chat with Rose’s grumpy grandson. He’d made it pretty clear he wasn’t interested in being friendly. Since he stood smack in front of the sauce she needed, though, she’d have to talk to him.

He glanced up as she approached. For a heartbeat she found herself caught by those amazing light green eyes, by the grief she saw searing through them.

What the heck? She cleared her throat. “How are you?”

He tipped his head in her direction, his expression now neutral. “Fine, thanks.”

His uninterest couldn’t have been clearer, though his tone was perfectly polite.

“I just need to get in here.” She pointed to the shelves in front of him. He stepped back, hindered by a woman and cart behind him, and Lainey slipped in, bumping him in the process. A little shiver of heat ran through her. “Sorry,” she muttered, and grabbed the jar with fingers that threatened to turn to butter.

She managed to wiggle back out, brushing him again, thanks to the oblivious woman behind him who kept him penned between them. She plopped the sauce into her basket and offered what she hoped passed for a smile. “Um, thanks.”

“No problem,” he murmured.

She turned around and hurried out of the aisle, unsettled by both the physical contact and his apparent loss. So Ben had a few secrets. That flash of grief, deep and wrenching, hit her again.

Rose had never mentioned anything. Then again, why would she? She’d respect her grandson’s privacy. It was one of the things Lainey loved about her friend.

It only took a few more minutes to gather the rest of the ingredients. Her path didn’t cross Ben’s again, and she unloaded her few purchases at the checkout with relief.

Outside, she took a big breath of the cool night air, and some of the tension knotted inside her eased. Fall was her favorite time of year. A mom and small daughter examined a display of pumpkins outside Frank’s and her thoughts shifted back to her baby. Next year she’d be carving a pumpkin for her five-month-old. Oh, sure, he or she would be too small to appreciate it, but despite the precariousness of her position the idea gave her a little thrill.

She deposited the bags in the trunk and slipped into the driver’s seat to start the car.

Click. Then nothing.

Oh, no. Maybe if she tried it again….

Click.

She leaned forward, rested her head on the steering wheel, and fought the urge to scream. Not owning any jumper cables, she’d have to go back into Frank’s and find someone who did. While she was at it she’d hope like crazy the problem was simply a dead battery, and not something expensive. She yanked the keys out of the ignition, grabbed her purse and got out of the car. One thing was for sure—she’d push the stupid car home before she’d ask her parents for help.

She nearly collided with Ben coming out of the store.

“Whoa,” he said, checking his cart before he ran her down.

Before she could think, she blurted, “Can you help me?” Her face heated as he stared at her. “Ah, never mind. I’ll find …” She gestured vaguely behind him but he shook his head.

“What do you need?”

“My car won’t start. I think the battery’s dead. The dome light’s been staying on longer than it should and it didn’t go off at all this time. I don’t have any jumper cables.” Realizing she was babbling, she clamped her mouth shut.

He nodded. “Where are you parked?”

She pointed. “There. The silver one.” Which he no doubt already knew, since he’d seen her in it the other night. “The space in front of me is open.”

“Okay. Give me a minute. I’ll pull around.”

He walked off and she stared after him. Shoot. Why hadn’t she found someone else? On the other hand, the whole process wouldn’t take very long. Then she could be on her way back home to fix her dinner and curl up in her bed.

The wind picked up, skittering dry leaves across the parking lot, and she tucked her hands under her arms to keep warm as she went back to her car. She propped the hood open as a big black truck rumbled into the empty spot.

Ben got out, cables already in hand, and went to work on her battery. Even though she knew how to hook them up—her mother would be appalled—she let him do it, because it was easier than having his carefully bland gaze on her.

He glanced up. “Do you know how to do this?”

Something in his tone made her bristle. She lifted her chin just a bit. “Actually, I do. I can even change a tire.”

His mouth twitched in what could have been a prequel to a smile. “Good for you.”

Before she could reply, a voice shrilled nearby. “Lainey? Lainey Keeler, is that you?”

Ben returned to the battery and the fragile moment was shattered. Lainey internally groaned as she turned to see Martha Turner, one of her mother’s best friends, hurrying toward her.

“Hi, Mrs. Turner.”

“Goodness, what are you doing?” The woman peeked around Lainey and frowned. “Do your parents know you have car trouble? I just left your mother at the Club. Have you called her yet? I’ll never understand why you traded in that cute little coupe your husband bought you for—for this.” She fluttered her hands at the car.

Not offended, Lainey bit back a laugh. She had to be the only person who’d ever traded in a new car for a used one. “Of course I didn’t bother either of them, Mrs. Turner. It’s really not a big deal. Just a dead battery.”

Behind her, Ben cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to start the truck now. It’s loud.”

“Okay.” She gave Mrs. Turner an apologetic smile. “It was nice to see you.”

Mrs. Turner’s gaze went to Ben, reaching into the cab of the truck, then back to Lainey. “You too, dear. Take care.”

Lainey could almost see the wheels turning in the other woman’s head and imagined her mother would get a phone call before Mrs. Turner even made it inside Frank’s. She sighed. She’d get her own call in a matter of minutes after that, and spend a half an hour calming her mother all over nothing.

So much for a relaxing evening.

Ben came back around and stood, hands in pockets, staring at her engine. Finally he lifted his gaze. “What did you trade in?”

Not exactly sure how to interpret his tone, she spoke carefully. “A Mercedes. After my divorce.”

She didn’t mention the sleek little car had been a bribe—an attempt to keep her in the marriage. Getting rid of it had been a victory of sorts. One of the very few she’d managed.

She caught a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “That’s funny?”

He rocked back on his heels. “Not the divorce. The car. I wouldn’t think—” He stopped and she frowned.

“Think what?”

He looked at her, amusement gone, and seemed actually to see straight into her. The full effect of his gaze caused a funny little hitch in her breath. “I think you can start the engine now,” he said, and she swallowed a surge of disappointment.

Which was crazy. She didn’t care what he thought of her.

She slid into the car and tried not to notice when he braced one arm on the roof of the car and the other on the top of the door. When he leaned down she got a tantalizing glimpse of the smooth, hard muscles of his chest through the gap in his partially unbuttoned shirt.

Her mouth went dry.

“Go ahead and see if it’ll start.”

His voice slid over her skin and she gave a little shiver. She caught a whiff of his scent—a yummy combination of soap and spice. A little curl of heat slipped through her belly. She reached for the ignition and hoped he didn’t notice her shaking hand. The engine turned over on the first try.

“You should be all set now,” he said, straightening up. “Drive it around a bit to let the battery charge up.”

“I will. Thank you,” she said, and meant it. “I appreciate it.”

He shrugged and stepped back. “No problem. I’d have done it for anyone.”

Her little hormonal buzz evaporated. Of course he would. After all, she’d practically attacked him when he came out of the store.

“Well, see you around,” she said, and he gave her a nod and then disappeared around the front of her car.

She sat for a moment, waiting for him to unhook the cables, and gave herself a reality check. She was two months pregnant. Being attracted to a man right now couldn’t be more foolish—and she’d learned the hard way what a poor judge of men she was. She’d paid dearly for that mistake. Her focus was her shop, her baby, and making her life work without her parents hovering over her, waiting for her to fail.

Clearly these pregnancy hormones threw her off balance.

The hood of the car dropped with a thud and the sudden glare of headlights made her blink. With a little wave, in case he could see, she put her car in gear and backed out of her spot, then drove the long way through town back to her apartment. Ben stayed a respectable distance behind, but the thoughtful gesture gave her an unwelcome frisson of warmth.

Under his gruff exterior, Ben Lawless was a gentleman.

Somehow that made him more dangerous.

Lainey let herself in to her apartment, not allowing herself to glance after Ben’s truck as he drove on by. Her phone rang. She dug it out of her bag and checked the display. Ah, here was the call she’d been dreading.

“Hi, Mother,” she said into the phone, as a purring Panda wound between her feet.

“Hi, dear,” Jacqui Keeler trilled. “I’m almost there. Let me in, love.”

That hadn’t taken long. Mrs. Turner must have really run up the alarm if she was getting a visit, too. Lainey dumped her bags on the counter with a little more force than necessary. “Here? Why?”

“Can’t I simply visit with my daughter?”

Oh, if only. “Of course, Mother. I’ll be down in a sec.”

She dropped the phone back in her purse and glanced around her cozy space. Her apartment was neat, for all the good it did. It would never meet her mother’s standards, no matter what. She’d learned that years ago.

She hurried down the front stairs to unlock the street-level door just as her mother walked up.

“Lainey.” Jacqui kissed her cheek, her usual cloud of sweet perfume tickling Lainey’s nose. “You look tired.”

She bit back a laugh. If her mother only knew. “Thanks,” she said dryly as the trim older woman swept past her up the stairs. Jacqui, as always, was impeccably groomed. She wore a pale pink suit and her smooth blond hair swung smartly at her chin. Lainey ran her hand down her ponytail and tried not to feel inferior in her non-branded jeans and tee shirt.

Damn it. She’d given that life up. But, oh, sometimes she did miss designer clothes.

“Have a meeting tonight, Mother?”

“I did.” Jacqui tucked her monster-sized bag securely under her arm, as if she expected to be robbed right there on the stairs. “For the Auxiliary at the hospital. The gala.”

No surprise there. For all their differences, Lainey still admired her mother’s energy. “When is it?”

“Two weeks. Don’t forget you are expected to be there.”

Right. Just what she wanted. “Who did the floral arrangements?”

“Gail, of course. She does a lovely job.”

Implying that The Lily Pad didn’t. Disappointment clogged her vision for a moment. Lainey opened her mouth, snapped it closed. Frustration rushed through her. She’d never get through to her mother until the woman took her seriously. When would that be? What would it take?

“You really should move back home, honey,” Jacqui said, her gaze drifting around the living room. “We have plenty of space. You could have your old room back. We’d love to have you.”

Lainey stifled a sigh. More like they’d love to micromanage her life into one that met their standards. Been there, tried that, failed spectacularly.

“I know you would. I’m very happy here, though.” Lainey saw her mother’s hand twitch, as it did when she was stressed. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you.” Jacqui perched on the edge of the sofa, the monster bag set primly on her lap, and Lainey sank down on a nearby chair. “Now, I received a disturbing phone call from Martha this evening. You had car trouble? Why didn’t you call?”

Lainey smoothed her hand on her jeans. “It was nothing. Really. A dead battery. Not worth bothering you over. Rose’s grandson Ben helped me out.”

Jacqui’s tone turned chilly. “Yes, Martha said you were with a man.”

Lainey nearly choked. “Standing in a parking lot while someone was kind enough to jump my battery is hardly being with a man.” Though she’d certainly had visions of another kind of jumping, but those were best kept to herself.

“If you’d kept the car your husband bought you—”

“Ex-husband,” Lainey said through clenched teeth.

Unperturbed, Jacqui continued on. “If you’d kept the car, and the husband, you wouldn’t need strange men to help you in the parking lot. Men who may have less than honorable intentions toward you.”

Lainey tried to count to ten and gave up at three. “Excuse me? How does being nice equal intentions of any kind?”

Jacqui glared at her. “Do I need to spell it out for you? Your father’s political connections are extremely valuable. Some people will use you for them. You don’t always have the best judgment, Lainey.”

Ouch. Direct hit. “Like Daniel did?” Lainey shot back. “You weren’t concerned then, about my judgment or my connections, since he came from the right family. I can’t see what need Ben Lawless would have for political connections, or how he thinks he’d get them when we only had ten minutes together.”

“Martha said you looked awful cozy.”

“Martha was wrong,” Lainey said flatly. “Trust me, Mother. Please.”

Jacqui made a noise in her throat. “I talked to Daniel earlier.”

Betrayal sliced through her, sharp and quick. “What?”

Jacqui sent Lainey a look full of reproach. “He said you never call him. Why ever not, Lainey? He’s a good man.”

Lainey sucked in a breath. She’d worked so hard to get free of her ex-husband. “I can’t think of any reason I’d ever have to call him.” Not even if hell froze over. Twice.

Her mother looked at her as if she were a bit daft. “He misses you, dear.”

Not a chance. She knew Daniel. Her ex-husband missed the perceived gravy train.

Lainey had never filled her family in on all the reasons behind her divorce. She’d been afraid they would take his side—a fear only reinforced as she looked at her mother now. Her parents adored Daniel. She’d dated him in an effort to be the daughter they wanted. They’d been over the moon when she’d succumbed in a weak moment, perhaps blinded by the three-carat princess-cut ring, and agreed to marry him. She’d thought she could make it work and earn her parents’ respect in one fell swoop.

She’d been wrong.

“Why would he miss me now? We’ve been divorced more than a year,” she said, and wasn’t totally successful at keeping the bitterness out of her voice. Jacqui didn’t seem to notice.

“I gave him your cell phone number and I’ve got his for you,” she said, fishing in her bag. “He said he’d give you a call.”

Anger propelled Lainey to her feet. “What? Mother, how could you? I don’t want to talk to him. Ever. My life is none of his business now.” He’d never cared when they were married. Why would he now?

Surprise crossed her mother’s face. “Lainey, you were married for seven years. Those feelings don’t just go away. He can help you out of this mess you’re in. You’re barely hanging on. Everyone knows it. You need his help.”

Nausea rolled over Lainey. There lay the crux of the matter for Jacqui—the possibility of another public shaming by her wayward daughter and the offer of salvation by a man deemed worthy, no matter the cost.

“I most certainly do not.” Telling her parents the truth of her marriage to Daniel would only prove how good she was at failing. “I don’t need him or anyone else to make this work. I’m doing perfectly fine on my own.” Well, except for the fact her shop was in the red and she had a cooler and a van on the fritz. Oh, and she was about to become a single mom. Still … “I’m happy, Mother.”

Jacqui sighed, shook her head, and gestured around the apartment. “Oh, honey. You can’t possibly be happy living like this, after how you were raised and how well you married. Talk to him when he calls. Maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll give you a second chance.”

Lainey shuddered. God help her. “I’m not interested.” Those years she’d spent with Daniel were ones she’d never get back. She wasn’t going to repeat the mistake of chaining herself to a man. No matter what.

“You should be.” Jacqui glanced at her watch. “I’d better get going. Lovely to see you, dear. Come visit us soon.”

Lainey bit back a sigh. Typical. Her mother would act as if nothing had happened. “I’ll walk you out.”

The next evening Ben looked up at the crunch of tires on the gravel drive. He recognized the silver car, and he already knew Lainey Keeler was coming over to visit his grandmother.

He wondered again at her modest choice of car. Somehow that intrigued him. He’d bet there was more to that story than she’d let on.

It would be flat-out rude not to make sure the car was running okay after he’d helped her yesterday. He’d be polite, then get back to his prep for the wheelchair ramp. He leaned the piece of wood he’d been about to cut against the wall and walked out into the twilight.

As he approached the car the door opened and he watched as Lainey planted one slim denim-clad leg, ending in a high-heeled black boot, on the ground. He tried not to notice how long that leg was. She appeared to be struggling with something so he went over to help.

“Evening,” he said. She jumped, yelped, and nearly lost her grip on what he could now see was a pizza box. Big blue eyes swung his way and a pretty pink stained her cheeks. Her lips parted slightly and his gaze zeroed in on her mouth. Very nice. He shoved the unwelcome thought away. “Can I get that for you?”

She shook her head and her long hair shifted silkily on her shoulders. “I’ve got it. Thanks.”

He stepped back to let her exit the car. “Is it running okay?”

She glanced up at him. “Yes. Thank you again.” Her tone was cool, polite. She bumped the door shut with her hip, but her keys fell to the ground. Ben bent and retrieved them for her, pressing them into her palm. A quick zing of heat flashed through him at the contact. He pulled back quickly. Hell.

“Um, thanks,” she murmured.

“You’re welcome.” He turned toward the garage. He needed to get away from her before he started to feel.

“Ben.” Her voice—hesitant, a little husky—flowed over him. He turned back and she tipped the pizza box slightly toward him. “There’s plenty here if you want to join us.”

“No, thanks.” The words came swift, automatic, but he caught a flash of hurt in her eyes. Damn it. “I’m in the middle of a project,” he amended. “I’ll try and grab some in awhile.” Why did he feel the need to soften the blow? Since when had big blue eyes affected him? Since last night, when she’d narrowed her eyes and told him she could change a tire.

She shrugged. “Good luck. Rose and I love our pizza.”

He slid his hands in his front pockets. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She turned to go and he couldn’t tear his gaze off the sway of her hips as she walked up to the house.

Double hell. He couldn’t risk forging any type of connection. No way would he allow himself the luxury. How could he, when he shouldn’t be the one alive?

Turning, he headed back to his project, tried to ignore the feminine laughter floating through the kitchen’s screen door. Lainey’s throaty laugh carried, teasing at the edge of something he’d shut down after Jason’s death.

His phone rang before he could start the saw. A glance at the display revealed the caller to be his boss. Nerves jolted through him, but he kept his voice steady as he answered.

“Hi, Captain.”

“Ben.” The concern in the older man’s voice carried clearly and Ben shut his eyes against the guilt it stirred up. “How are you, son?”

“I’m getting by,” he replied.

“Just getting by?”

“Pretty much.” Ben paused. He didn’t need to paint a rosy picture for his boss. He’d already been ordered to take leave due to the stress of Jason’s death. It couldn’t really get any worse than that.

“Still having the symptoms, I take it.” Not a question.

“Yeah.” When the dream stopped, would he be free of the pain? Did he want to be? Wouldn’t that be disloyal to the friend he’d loved like a brother?

After all, Ben was alive. Jason wasn’t.

The Captain sighed. “It won’t do any good for me to tell you again that it was an accident and not your fault, right?”

“With all due respect, sir, you’re wrong.” The words caught in Ben’s throat. “It was my call. I made a bad one, and a good man—a family man—died because of me.”

“That’s not what the investigation found,” the Captain reminded him softly.

It didn’t matter. The investigators hadn’t been there—in the inferno, in the moment. “I don’t give a damn.” Ben shut his eyes against the waves of guilt and pain that buffeted his soul, tried not to see Callie’s grief-ravaged face. “I know what happened.”

“Ben—”

“Please, don’t.”

There was a pause, then another sigh. “Then I won’t. This time. Son, when you heal, come back and see us. There will always be room for fine firefighters such as yourself and I’d be honored to have you.”

Heal. Ben swallowed a lump in his throat. He didn’t know if it was possible. “Thank you, sir. I’ll keep it in mind.”

He disconnected the call and the emptiness he’d been battling for the past six months constricted his chest. He could never work as a firefighter again. He no longer trusted his judgment, his ability to read a situation and respond appropriately.

Without those skills he was nothing.

“Ben?”

He looked up sharply, feeling exposed. Lainey stood in the open door with a plate, uncertainty on her beautiful face. He cursed silently. How much had she overheard?

“Rose thought you might be hungry.” She lifted the plate slightly.

He rubbed his hand over his face, afraid the rawness of his emotions showed too clearly. He needed to get them back under control—fast. “Thanks.” He shoved the phone in his pocket and walked over, not wanting to look at her and see pity. Or disgust. He’d seen plenty of both over the past couple of months. She handed him the plate wordlessly, then laid her hand on his forearm before he could move away.

His muscles turned to stone even as the heat from her simple touch sought the frozen place inside him. His gaze landed on hers, despite his best intent. He saw no pity, only questions, and he couldn’t take the chance of her asking them. Not now, with everything so close to the surface.

He cleared his throat and she stepped back quickly, taking her warmth with her when she removed her hand. It was a much sharper loss than he’d like. “Thanks for the pizza.”

“Sure.” She hesitated and he held his breath, afraid she’d ask. Perversely, he was almost afraid she wouldn’t. She gave him a small smile. “Eat it before it gets cold.”

Then she turned and walked into the night before he could tell her how very familiar he was with cold.

And what a lonely place it was.