Page 3 of Maybe My Baby

She was breathless when he finally set her on her feet.

“I missed you today,” he said. “And you look amazing by the way. I love that dress.” He toyed with one of the spaghetti straps.

His fingers on her collarbone sent little tingles all over her body. “You knew where I was. We texted half a dozen times.”

He rubbed his thumb across her cheek. “Not the same as having you here in the flesh.”

The way he said the wordfleshmade her think about breaking a few rules...or throwing caution to the wind.

But if she was going to be amother—her stomach clenched—she had to be sensible.

They walked into the house together. Donovan lifted his head and sniffed the air. “Ah, good barbecue. Nothing smells more delicious.” He turned and gave her one of those grins that weakened her knees. “Nothing except the curve of your neck when you’re all damp and satisfied after I—”

She held up a hand, stopping him midsentence. “I get it. Hold that thought,” she said. “We don’t want to eat cold food.”

Donovan nibbled her nape. “I have a microwave,” he muttered. “In case you want to do anythingbeforedinner.”

A hard shiver quaked through her body. How did he do that? One touch of his lips and she melted.

She turned in his embrace and curled her arms around his neck. “Do you ever behave?”

His brown eyes sparkled with humor. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“I missed you, too,” she said.

“Nice to know.” He sighed dramatically. “Okay. If I can’t tempt you with anything else, I’ll sublimate my urges with meat and potatoes.”

Together, they set out the food. Donovan’s kitchen cabinets were works of art—original to the house. But he had taken them off the wall, stripped half a dozen layers of paint, and refinished the wood to its true beauty.

The magnitude of that job stunned Ginny. He had tackled the project long before she met him. But seeing the final product told her he was a man who would follow through on his goals.

Still, raising a kid for eighteen years was a long way from woodworking. One job you could walk away from at the end of the day. The other, not so much.

The meal was unusually silent. Donovan wasn’t one for chatter, and Ginny kept rehearsing her speech in her head.

She was eating her last bites of potato salad and hush puppies when he finished his beer and sat back in his seat. “I think I have a solution to your problem,” he said. The fingers of his left hand drummed on the table.

The piece of food lodged in her throat. “My problem?” she croaked.There is no way he could know about the pee stick. I only found out hours ago...

Donovan gave her a puzzled look. “Your lease? The rent increase?”

She took a long swig of her soft drink and tried to breathe. “Oh, that. What did you have in mind?”

For the first time it occurred to her that her dinner companion seemed the tiniest bit nervous. He hid it well, but the signs were there. “The thing is,” he said slowly, “you like the current location of your ice cream shop, and you love the building itself and the way it’s right in the middle of the action on the town square.”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t really want to relocate.”

“True.”

“So, your basic struggle is how to balance your budget and still absorb the hit from your landlord raising the rent.”

“I know all that, Donovan. I’ve spent the last two weeks making lists of pros and cons about moving.”

He cleared throat. “I was thinking that—”

A wave of nausea had Ginny on her feet. “Excuse me,” she said. “I’ll be right back.” She made a dash to the bathroom and threw up everything she had just eaten.Oh, God. It’s true. I’m pregnant.

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