Page 11 of Shotgun Spouse

“Oh my stars,” Mrs. Hargrove gasped, clutching the box of biscuits to her chest. “You two… Why, I had no idea you were”—she lowered her voice conspiratorially—“starting a family.”

Bunny’s eyes widened. “Wait, no?—”

“It’s not like that,” Teddy interjected, stepping forward.

But Mrs. Hargrove wasn’t listening. Her eyes glimmered with excitement as she nodded knowingly. “And Bunny, you carried so well. I never would have thought.”

Bunny hadn't gained any weight. Had she? She suddenly had the urge to find a mirror.

Before either of them could clarify, Mrs. Hargrove was already walking briskly toward the checkout, muttering, “Wait till the girls at the book club hear about this.”

Bunny turned to Teddy, her jaw tight. “She's going to spread that rumor like butter on dry toast.”

"No one will believe her. No one will believe that we made this child together."

"Why not?"

Teddy held up his hand next to Bunny's, where she was patting the baby on the back. Her pale brown skin stood in contrast to his deep chocolate brown, and then next to the baby's milky white complexion.

"We don't match, for one."

"You know my dad was Asian. This baby could pass for my nephew if not my own kid."

"Oh? Well, congrats, then. Looks like we’ve got a new title: the town’s favorite scandal.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

The tires crunched over the thickening snow as Teddy steered his truck across the narrow bridge leading to his house. The beams of his headlights cut through the swirling flakes, illuminating the jagged edge of the half-finished road. Beyond the bridge, the new subdivision stretched out like a skeleton of what it would become—wooden frames dusted with snow, stacks of unused bricks buried under the accumulating drifts.

The heater whirred inside the cab, its faint hum mingling with the soft rustling of Bunny’s coat as she shifted in the passenger seat. She was quiet, her profile lit by the dashboard’s glow. Teddy didn’t need to look directly at her to know she was staring out at the snow-covered landscape, probably cataloging every impracticality of building out here.

His own house, perched alone on the hill at the edge of town, stood in stark contrast to the skeletal structures around it. It was a good house, sturdy and new, but its isolation had felt more acute lately. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mind the thought of Bunny and the baby staying there—at least for a night.

The snow started coming down heavier, clumps smacking against the windshield and dragging in lazy arcs as the wipersfought to keep the glass clear. Teddy tightened his grip on the wheel. His damp palms squeaked against the leather as he navigated the incline.

“It's impractical to live way out here. What if there's an emergency?"

"This is a town of adults. They handled emergencies before I was mayor. They can handle them while I'm mayor, too."

Bunny snorted at that.

"True leadership isn't micromanaging every aspect. I pick the best people to do the job and trust them to do it. If I’m hovering over every little detail, I’m not doing my job—I’m just getting in everyone’s way.”

“It’s not hovering if you're ensuring things don’t slip through the cracks. One mistake, one oversight, and the whole system can collapse.”

“Spoken like someone who’s never had to work in a real chain of command.”

“Is that some military joke?”

“In the military, you can’t see every cog in the wheel. You’re given a mission, and you trust your team to do their jobs while you do yours. If you’re constantly questioning the person at your back, you’re dead before you’ve even pulled the trigger."

Teddy slowed as they approached the hill leading to his house. The snow was piling up faster than he’d expected.

"I worked under commanders who I never met face to face. My squad and I were in the middle of nowhere, relying on intel coming from people thousands of miles away. Did I question every decision they made? No. I trusted the chain of command. That’s how leadership works—trusting the people you’ve put in place to handle their responsibilities.”

Bunny frowned, her foot tapping lightly against the truck’s floorboard. “That might work in the military, but this isn’t a battlefield. This is a town full of real people with real problems.Sometimes those people need a leader who’s willing to step in and make sure everything’s running smoothly.”

The baby gurgled in the back, momentarily quiet after his earlier outburst.

---