Page 1 of The Bartender's Baby

PROLOGUE

It was love at first sight.

I didn’t know how else to explain it.

The small swath of brown hair. The pink cheeks. That tiny nose. Those blinking eyes and grasping fingers.

I was in love.

With an hour-old baby.

And his mother? That wasn’t love at first sight, but it was love.

I had no idea when it started. Maybe the day I’d watched her lay out a customer who thought it was his right to grab a woman. I hadn’t even been able to open my mouth before he’d hit the floor.

Maybe it had been that night when I’d heard her singing, a rare glimpse into an unguarded moment while she had cleaned up. I’d hidden in the corner, so she wouldn’t notice how I’d watched her rocking side to side as her voice, lovely and melodic, carried to me. A surprise and yet not. After all, every new piece of information I learned about her was a revelation. A puzzle wrapped up in ripped jeans and a leather jacket, and signing Lady Gaga’s “You and I.”

Or maybe, very likely, it was the day she’d told me she was pregnant. That’s when it had all become clear.

That I loved her.

ONE

NATE

Ihitsendon an email with the real estate agent, directing her to make the offer, hopefully closing the deal on what would be the space for a bistro and wine bar, and leaned back, stretching my arms up.

“Hey.”

Startled, I nearly fell out of my chair in my effort not to be murdered, and I swung around, blood pulsing in my ears, only to find Tabitha. Slapping my palm to my chest, I folded over in relief. “Christ, Tabby cat. You scared the shit out of me.”

She stayed silent, as usual.

“I swear to god, I’m gonna put a bell around your neck.”

That earned me a stiff shake of her head. I’d never known anyone to make less noise than her. She mostly communicated with stern eyebrow arches and murderous glares.

“I hate when you call me that,” she said finally, and I grinned.

“That’s why I do it.”

Those impossibly high cheekbones of hers pinked, and she straightened, plucking at her T-shirt, an unusual nervous tic. “I need to talk to you for a minute.”

“Sure.” I spun in my chair to fully face her. “What’s up?”

Her long fingers, tipped with black nail polish, dragged over the side of her neck as she breathed deeply.

“Are you sick?” I asked, reaching for the trash can. I knew she hadn’t been feeling well, even called out a few days ago, but I’d figured she’d gotten over it since she was back to her regular schedule and doing inventory today.

“No, I’m fine.”

I didn’t believe her and offered her my water bottle. She accepted it, took a sip, then played with the cap for a few seconds before twisting it back on. She cleared her throat and stood tall. “I wanted to let you know that I’m pregnant.”

I froze, blinked, and blinked again. A long time passed before I finally spoke. “You’re pregnant?”

She nodded. “That’s why I haven’t been feeling well lately.”

“How are you feeling now?” I asked, hopping up out of my chair to push her into it. I didn’t know much about pregnancy. In fact, I tried to actively avoid the topic as much as possible. But, fuck. Tabitha—my Tabby—was pregnant?

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