ACCORDING TO PLAN

by Barr, Sue

  He held my hand and snatched kisses whenever he thought no one in the store was looking, not paying too much attention to where we were. His steps faltered when I paused in the little area with children’s furniture. He further slowed down when I stopped at a beautiful hand carved rocker, sat in it and began rocking gently.

  “Shelby, why are we here?”

  I rocked a little harder and couldn’t look at him. All I saw were two big feet, planted directly in front of me.

  “Shelby.” His tone had an edge to it.

  I stopped rocking. Running my fingers on the arm of the rocker I asked. “What color would you like to paint the room if it’s a boy?” I dared to peep up.

  I had never seen Tank at a loss for words. I probably never would again. He was so still I wasn’t sure he heard me. His face was devoid of emotion, so I repeated, “Tank, what color…?”

  “I heard you.” He pulled me out of the rocker and lifted me into his arms. His heart thundered in his chest. I didn’t know if he was happy, mad, or indifferent and I stumbled back when he released me and let out an ear-splitting whoop before pulling me back in his arms.

  Patrons jumped and store clerks came to see what all the fuss was. They arrived in time to see me crushed in a tight bear hug again, while Tank twirled around, kissing me over and over.

  Laughing, I pushed on his shoulders. “Tank, the child will come out dizzy if you don’t put me down.”

  “Are you all right?” He almost dropped me in his haste to set me on terra firma, placing the palm of his hand on my little rounded belly. The tiny bulge alone should have told me I was pregnant.

  “I’m going to have a baby. Women have been doing this for millennia.” I loved the feel of his big hand resting on my belly, on our child.

  “I know, but this is my first time, so cut me some slack.” He hugged me again.

  “Uh, Tank. We’re in public.” My voice was muffled as I spoke into his chest.

  “I don’t care.” But he did loosen his arms and allow me to breath. Snagging my hand in his large one, he dragged me through the store, not stopping until we were in our new jeep. He half turned in his seat.

  “When?” There was no beating around the bush with Tank.

  “About four months.” I could see the wheels turning in Tank’s mind, calculating.

  Maybe sooner.

  “You were pregnant before the explosion.” He shook his head in disbelief. “We only made love once.”

  “That’s all it takes.”

  Tank reached across the gearshift, pulled me close and kissed me again. The kiss was sweet, yet demanding at the same time. He caressed my cheek and whispered, “You can’t know how excited I am.”

  Now that was a first. I always knew when he was excited, but I knew he spoke from his heart. Then he decided we needed things for the baby and me. We bought vitamins, every book he could find on pregnancy and childcare, stopping only when I refused to buy a jogging stroller. Totally exhausted when we arrived home I wanted to lie down. I also needed to pee, again, and made my way to our bedroom upstairs. Although the room lay in darkness, I didn’t need a light to find the bathroom.

  When I came out of the ensuite, I stopped at the sight of what lay before me. The room was filled with votive candles and crimson rose petals were sprinkled over the duvet. A glass of milk sat in a bucket full of ice, the previously chilled champagne placed on the floor beside the bed and Tank waited—a small black box in his hand.

  So this was why he took so long to get ready this morning. I approached and took the box he held out. After a quick, questioning glance, I raised the lid.

  Nestled in the velvet was a square cut diamond set in platinum gold, with two gleaming emeralds on either side. My heart hammered and I could barely choke out words.

  “You found them?”

  “Had to crawl through the shrubbery by the front porch, but yeah, I found them.”

  “I always regretted throwing my rings at you.” With wondering eyes, I looked about the room. Never in my wildest dreams, and I’d had a few, would I have expected this. “Why all the romance? We’re already married.”

  “I planned on taking you out for a romantic dinner and when we came home, I’d carry you here, have a champagne toast and do this proper. Our whole married life was built on a foundation of lies. But now we’ve got a clean slate.”

  He took the box out of my shaking hand and bent down on one knee. My breath stuttered as he slid the familiar ring on my fourth finger.

  Holding my hand, he looked up at me. “I think I loved you before I met you. You make me weak in the knees, every day. These past few months have been hell and I don’t want to waste another moment. I want to fight with you. Laugh and love with you…” He placed a big hand on my belly, “…have children with you. Shelby Marie Stewart-Steele, will you marry me, again?”

  Tears slipped down my cheeks and I dropped to my knees. I held his face in my hands, and looked first into his green and then blue eye. “Yes. I’ll marry you, Jackson Montgomery Steele.”

  Hours later, snuggled close against his chest, I grinned into the dark and thought about the only other thing which could render him speechless. I almost shook him awake, but decided I’d tell him in the morning, just as he was about to take a big gulp of coffee.

  I slid into sleep… Hope he’s ready for twins.

  THE END

  Thanks for reading According to Plan. I hope you enjoyed Shelby and Tank’s story. Make sure you’re on my mailing list at www.suebarrauthor.com to be notified when new books are released. If you enjoyed this book, please help other readers discover it by leaving a review on the retail site of your choice, and/or Goodreads.

  Turn the page for a sneak peek at my next book, Man of Her Dreams.

  Man Of Her Dreams

  Lindsay Swanson turned her beat-up truck into the parking lot and pulled to a stop near the front entrance of the Food Mart. Waves of heat shimmered from the hood of the truck, making the open space look like a Saharan mirage. Sweat trickled down the side of her temple and she swiped it away before twisting her hair into a Ravenwood Hooligan’s ball cap.

  A fluttering movement caught her eye. With a sigh she peeled a rogue piece of drywall tape off her T-shirt. When you owned your own renovation business, things got messy. Thankfully, most of the town would be at Nesland Lake, enjoying the warm weather, so chances of someone seeing her caked in drywall dust and sweat were slim.

  Through the front window she spotted one of the cashiers working a checkout line, and groaned. Just her luck, Carla would be working today. Now everyone in town would know how pathetic her life was. She could hear Carla now.

  “Poor Lindsay, she only bought a loaf of bread. No one to cook for….”

  For a brief moment, she considered hopping back into her truck and driving to her parent’s farm for a home cooked meal. Mom wouldn’t mind another body at the table, but Lindsay wasn’t up for the subtle guilt that would be sprinkled throughout the meal.

  Mom would say, over a savory pot roast, ‘A few grandchildren would be nice while we can enjoy them – without assistance from a walker.’ Or, ‘When are you going to find a nice young man?’

  The automatic door slid open and Lindsay entered the blissfully cool interior, and made a beeline for the deli counter. As expected, the store was quiet, the silence broken by piped music from the fifties and sixties. She ordered sandwich meat, pausing when her cell phone played ‘Red Neck Woman’.

  “Hey, Tina. What’s up?”

  “Are you coming to practice tonight?”

  A pang of guilt sliced through her. The good folk of Ravenwood were fanatical about their slow-pitch team, planning town fairs and community events around the tournaments. Although she loved playing ball, she had no desire to run around an outfield. Not after taping and mudding Mrs. Henderson’s entire kitchen.

  “No can do. I’m too tired.” She waved a thank-you to the deli clerk and grabbed the package of meat.

  “Not again. Y
ou only have to come out for a few hours.”

  “You know I’m busy, and before you ask, I can’t make the game tomorrow night either.”

  She heard muffled whispering. The Hooligan’s next game was against the Silver Creek Bullets, their biggest competitor and a minimum of two women was required to play.

  “Tell Nick I hear him breathing.” Lindsay guessed her brother was eavesdropping.

  “How did you—?” Tina sighed. “At least come for drinks after the game.”

  “I’ll be there. See you tomorrow.” Lindsay ended the call. Tina was not only her sister-in-law, but also her best friend, and because they’d known each other since they were both in diapers, Tina felt it was her duty to make sure Lindsay had a plus-one for parties. Unfortunately, for both of them, her batting average was a big, fat zero.

  However, a boyfriend would be nice. Especially on beautiful days like today where she and her fabulous, make-believe boy toy could water-ski, then invite everybody over for a barbeque and Carla wouldn’t think she was so pathetic.

  Lindsay continued to the bakery department. She was dangerously low on provisions and swore she’d do a full grocery shop on the weekend. That was, if she had time. If she didn’t have another renovation booked. If, if, if… The multitude of ifs piled up, threatening to topple over and crush her.

  Long time Ravenwood resident, Lindsay Swanson was crushed to death last night. Investigators claim the reason was iffy.

  She skirted the candy bars and closed her eyes as she moved down the cookie aisle, opening them when she felt was safely beyond their tempting chocolate chips and caramel swirls.

  Maybe because her eyes had been closed or maybe because he’d come around from the other side of the bread rack, but Lindsay didn’t see the man until they both reached for the last loaf of fresh bread.

  Their fingers touched and a jolt ran from her finger tips straight to her midsection. She followed the length of a muscled forearm up to his body. Her eyes did a slow blink and she lost all coherent thought.

  Before her stood six feet plus of muscle and pure testosterone. Broad shoulders filled out a grey T-shirt, the soft cotton material snug across his chest and loose around his abs. Abs that most likely had the perfect ridges women went crazy over and posted pictures of on every social media page. She dragged her gaze up to a stubble dusted chin. Her knees weakened. There was something incredibly sexy about a man with a scruffy face. She moved past a firm, sexy mouth and stopped when she reached a pair of steel grey eyes.

  Holy Mackerel.

  For a moment she thought interest flared in those unusual eyes, but he gave her a lopsided grin, released the loaf of bread and turned away. Thank goodness. A millisecond more and she’d have melted into a gooey puddle. Right in the middle of baked goods. She could imagine the loudspeaker announcement.

  Clean up in Bakery. Bring the wet vac.

  As he continued down the aisle, pushing a grocery cart piled high with Hungry Guy Meals, she stared. Dark jeans, soft and worn, rode low on his hips, looking like old friends the way they moulded to his backside. At that exact moment, he glanced over his shoulder and she froze.

  Oh No!

  This unbelievably hot guy caught her checking out his backside. She knew she’d turned bright red when warmth slid up her neck faster than mercury in a thermometer. He grinned and turned back to study the cereal box in his hand. Why couldn’t she have met him when she looked like a member of the human race and not a walking sweat stain?

  Mortified at being caught ogling, she hugged the loaf of bread to her chest and hurried to the checkout. As she rounded the corner, she came to a full stop. Although the store had been quiet when she first came in, now every cashier was busy. Except…Carla. Would it be too much to ask for one small break today?

  “I can help you over here.” Carla gave her a curt little nod.

  Lindsay placed the meat and bread on the conveyor belt.

  “Is that everything?” Carla slid the items over the scanner.

  “Yes.”

  “That’ll be four dollars and fifty-six cents.”

  Lindsay reached into her back pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill.

  Carla took the money and held it up to the light, squinting. She then passed it under a counterfeit detector. She knew the bad bill Lindsay used for groceries over a year ago had come direct from the bank, but she still scanned her money.

  Every. Single. Time.

  Come on, Carla. Get the lead out.

  “Are you going to the lake?” Carla finally opened the register.

  “No.” Lindsay shook her head and glanced around. The way her luck was going, he’d come around the corner, see her bills being triple checked and think she was a con artist as well as a mute fool.

  “Must be nice, owning your own company, not having to worry how you look.”

  For the second time that day Lindsay stared, not sure of what to say. Carla had made her life miserable in high school, but they were grown women, too old for this kind of cattiness. She caught Carla’s gaze sliding up and down her body, with a smirk she didn’t bother to hide.

  Right then, Lindsay decided she wasn’t too old.

  “Bless your heart, worrying about me when you’re stuck inside. And on such a beautiful day, too.” Lindsay smiled with cherub-like innocence.

  Carla’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits while she made change and handed it to Lindsay, along with her groceries. “Thanks for shopping at Food Mart,” was ground out between clenched teeth.

  Aware of the woman’s angry look following her, Lindsay strolled through the sliding doors toward her truck. With one last glance through the window she was surprised to see Carla surreptitiously wipe a tear from her cheek.

  Because of her comment? Lindsay couldn’t be sure, but vowed the next time she ran into Carla she’d apologize. Just because she was having a bad day didn’t mean she had to drag someone else down with her.

  ****

  Jared Kane held the cereal box and mentally kicked himself. The first time in ages a woman showed attention and he turned away. At this rate they’d make him hand back his man card. Any other place, any other time, he’d at least nod a hello, but he hadn’t been prepared for a little bit of heaven at the Food Mart. Granted she was on the wrong side of clean, with drywall mud spattered on her clothing, and he had no idea what color her hair was, stuffed into a dusty Ravenwood Hooligans ball cap, but clear hazel eyes had stared up at him, her full lips slightly parted.

  He’d noticed those too. Lips that looked like they could use a good long kiss.

  He glanced back over his shoulder. She stood by the bread rack, her gaze riveted on his butt. When she realized he’d semi-turned, her eyes widened. He grinned and turned back to his shopping cart. Oh yeah. She’d totally checked him out. He tapped the cereal box and tried to think of something nonchalant and witty to say.

  Don’t be a moron. How hard is it to say hello?

  He turned around and the ‘Hi’ died on his lips. Like a silent shadow she’d disappeared. “Smooth move, Kane,” he muttered and turned toward the checkout. He might never find out who she was. There was still no sign of her while he unloaded his groceries on the conveyor belt.

  “Are you the guy who bought old man Wilkinson’s house on Fourth Street?”

  He paused with a jar of peanut butter in his hand. Why did he always get chatty Cathy for a cashier? He placed the jar on the belt and gave the clerk a polite smile. Grandma Kane said most people would be curious about him and to always treat others as you would like to be treated.

  “I am. It’s a great old house, but needs a lot work.” That was an understatement. He’d spent the better part of last week cutting back overgrown rose bushes and had gashes from the thorns to prove it.

  The checkout clerk, whose name tag read Carla, slid his frozen chicken over the scanner. “Not surprised. Old Man Wilkinson didn’t do a whole lot to that piece of… uhh, his house.”

  Jared studied the clerk. Odds were high
she’d know the mystery woman. Ravenwood wasn’t that big of a town. He watched her scan a few more items before saying, “There was a girl here earlier. Looked like she worked in construction.”

  “You must mean Lindsay Swanson.” Carla grabbed his box of instant potatoes. “Don’cha know she’s your neighbor?”

  Neighbor? He’d have come home early from his book tour if he’d known his neighbor was drop dead sexy. “The red and brown bungalow?”

  “No. Her house is yellow. Will that be cash or charge?” Carla’s slightly red-rimmed eyes never left his face. Jared knew she’d catalogued everything he bought and also knew, without a shred of doubt half the town would have full knowledge of his buying preference by tomorrow.

  “Cash.” He pulled out four twenties and handed them over. “Do you think her husband would mind if I asked where she got some of her plants?”

  Carla entered the amount of cash received and waited for the register to open. “Who?”

  “Lindsay.”

  “Husband,” Carla snorted and began to paw through the money. “Lindsay’s not married. She’s too busy with Best Laid Plans.”

  “Best Laid Plans?”

  “Her renovation business. She wants to rebuild Ravenwood one recycled plank board at a time.”

  “Renovations. Good to know.”

  Carla shut the till with a loud bang and held out his change. “Thank you for shopping at Food Mart.”

  Jared took his money and pushed the cart out to his truck. On the drive home he tried to figure out a way to meet the sexy neighbor. He could always borrow a cup of sugar.

  “Hi. I’m your neighbor, Jared Kane. Can I borrow some sugar, Sugar?”

  Nope. That was just plain creepy. She’d slam the door in his face faster than he could spit.

  “Hi. I’m Jared. Do you know any good places to eat?”

  Lame. Lame. Lame.

  What was wrong with him? He created scenes and wrote dialogue for a living. Surely he could think of some witticism to break the ice and not come across as a sleazy lounge lizard.

  He pulled into his drive and studied the front of her house. If this was a scene from one of his books, she’d come out onto the front porch, looking exceptionally hot and he’d introduce himself. But everything remained silent, so he entered his house and dropped the pizza box on the old Formica countertop in the kitchen. His cell phone vibrated and he glanced at the call display.