Page 58 of Single Chance

But there was so much more to him than just his body and his pheromones.

I’d sworn off any type of involvement with him because, yes, I was grieving and an emotional mess, but maybe that was premature. I’d be dumb to not give things a chance to develop just because I was vulnerable. As long as I continued to be cautious, as long as I didn’t try to force anything, I needed—and our child deserved for me—to keep an open mind about Chance Cordova.

Who knew what the future held for us? Maybe he was the right guy.

It wasn’t until we were walking out of the medical building that I noticed Chance had become quiet and tense.

Chapter Nineteen

Chance

Rowan and I didn’t speak on our way to her car after the ultrasound.

In truth, I was lost in my head, so it was handy she’d insisted on being the one to drive us into Nashville.

Once we were in the car, she started the engine, then said, “So I have a tradition. Are you in a hurry?”

“No.” It was early afternoon. We hadn’t had lunch yet, and I wasn’t sure how much I’d be able to get my head into work once we returned to the office anyway.

“Are you okay, Chance?” she asked, studying me across the front seat.

I forced a smile and nodded. “Hungry actually.”

Her pretty eyes lit up. “I’ve got you.”

She pulled out of the parking garage and drove a couple of miles. When she turned onto Hale Street, my brows went up. Holden, Kemp, and I had been here several times to meet with Hunter Clayborne, the owner of Clayborne’s on the Corner, to talk beer. Before taking over his family’s bar, he’d been a brandmanager for a brewery in Chicago. The dude knew his shit and was generous with his knowledge.

My eyes were on Hunter’s bar and grill as Rowan parallel parked on the opposite side of the street.

“Lunch?” I asked.

“Cupcakes.”

I realized we were parked directly in front of Sugar Babies Bakery, which was owned by Hunter’s wife, Kennedy, and two other women.

“Cupcakes aren’t lunch,” I said.

“They’re my tradition. I started coming here after each appointment when they opened a few years ago. My reward for the trauma of having my insides messed with in various torturous ways.”

I couldn’t fault that system. I’d been caught off guard when the ultrasound tech had wielded that wand. I didn’t remember Erin having anything so invasive with Sam.

Not only was I too hungry for just cupcakes, but Rowan needed all the nutrients and protein she could get. Last I knew, cupcakes weren’t good for that. “You’re nurturing a blueberry-size being in there. We can have cupcakesafterwe eat real food.”

She bit her lip and hesitated as if she’d actually thought a cupcake lunch was okay. “You’re mean.”

“Come on, Mama,” I said. “Time to be the grown-up.”

She stuck her tongue out at me. “Where do you want to go?”

I pointed at Clayborne’s. “Have you been there before?”

She shook her head.

“Great burgers. Big menu. And I know the owner.”

As we crossed the street, I told her how Hunter had helped us with branding when Rusty Anchor had first opened. “Maybe you know his wife, Kennedy? She handles Henry’s marketing and is part owner of Sugar Babies.”

“I don’t, but if she’s responsible for that”—she gestured over her shoulder at the bakery—“she’s already my hero.”

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