The Baby Surprise

by Brenda Harlen

  She was suddenly conscious of her half-dressed state and even more conscious of his. Because Zach was wearing nothing but a pair of jeans that weren’t even buttoned. Without a shirt, she could see that his shoulders were even broader than she’d imagined and perfectly sculpted. And his stomach really did look like a washboard with all of those rippling muscles. As Paige’s eyes skimmed over him, her mouth actually went dry.

  If it was shallow to respond in a purely sexual manner to such a well-toned physique, well, then, she was shallow. She was also very close to whimpering.

  She swallowed a mouthful of wine instead. “I, uh, thought you were sleeping.”

  “I was,” he told her. “Until I heard the patio door slide open.”

  His protective instincts were obviously very finely honed—or at least a lot more so than her father’s. Philip Wilder had never noticed when his fourteen-year-old daughter snuck out of the house, or maybe he’d just never cared.

  Regardless, she should have remembered that she wasn’t alone in the house and put on a robe. Of course, it was Zach’s presence that had kept her awake—and while she might have excused her inability to sleep as a result of her concerns over Emma’s custody, she knew that was only part of the reason for her restlessness. The other—and maybe even the bigger part—was her awareness of this man.

  She was definitely aware of him now. Aware and wanting and fervently cursing her hormones for not having the sense to realize how perilous wanting him could be.

  She set down her glass and tucked her legs up against her chest so he couldn’t see the hard peaks of her nipples pressing against the thin cotton of her shirt, so he wouldn’t guess how desperately she wanted him to touch her, kiss her, take her.

  She ignored the heat that coursed through her veins and said, “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  He dropped down onto the lounger beside hers but sat so that he was facing her. “You definitely disturb me.”

  Paige thought it was probably wiser not to respond to the blatant innuendo, and so she said nothing. Not even when he reached for the wineglass she’d set down.

  He lifted it to his nose, sniffed. His brows rose and he tipped the glass to his lips. There was something strangely intimate about him drinking from her glass, putting his mouth where hers had been.

  He swallowed, and his lips curved again. “Stonechurch Vineyards merlot. The silver label Special Reserve.”

  “You saw the bottle on the counter,” she guessed.

  He shook his head. “My parents run the winery. Or maybe I should say that they used to run the winery. My sister, Hayden, took over most of the operations a few years back.”

  The revelation that she was drinking wine his family had made was as surprising as the realization that he had a family. It just wasn’t something she’d thought about until he’d mentioned wanting to take Emma to California.

  It was difficult enough to admit that this man might be the little girl’s father, that he would have a legitimate legal claim to custody of the child who had taken complete hold of her heart, but she’d never considered that he might be able to offer her so much more than his name. That he had parents who could be Emma’s grandparents, a sister who could be her aunt and maybe even an extended family who would want to be part of her life.

  But all she said was, “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

  “Three of them, actually,” he told her.

  “You’re one of four kids?” She thought about how busy she was just chasing around after Emma. “Wow, that must have kept your parents busy.”

  “I always tease Hayden—she’s the youngest—that they didn’t have more than they could handle until she was born because that’s when they finally quit.”

  “What is her response to that?”

  “That the real reason they stopped having children was that they’d finally had the perfect one.”

  It was the affection she heard in his voice as much as his response that made her smile. “She’s the one who works at the winery?”

  He nodded.

  “What do your other sisters do?” she asked, genuinely curious about the siblings she’d only just realized he had.

  “Lauryn is a doctor and Jocelyn is a college professor.”

  “And you fly planes,” she noted, thinking that his parents definitely hadn’t raised any slackers.

  He nodded. “It’s all I ever wanted to do.”

  “Why the military?”

  “I heard a rumor that chicks dig a guy in uniform.”

  She smiled because she knew it was the response he expected. And because she didn’t doubt for a minute that he’d found himself the object of countless affections, though she wouldn’t assume that had anything to do with the uniform. Because even out of uniform, in only a pair of unzipped jeans, he was all too appealing.

  She took back her glass of wine and swallowed a long, bracing gulp.

  “What about you?” he asked. “Did you always know you were going to be a lawyer?”

  “No,” she said. “In fact, I was in my second year studying geology when I had to vacate the apartment I was renting because it flooded. I ended up staying with a friend and the landlord took me to small-claims court to sue for nonpayment of rent.

  “Of course, there was no way I could afford a lawyer to defend against the claim, so I started researching the law myself. In the end, I countersued for breach of contract, pointing out that I couldn’t be expected to live in an apartment that was eighteen inches underwater.”

  “And you won,” he guessed.

  She nodded. “That’s when I decided to go to law school.”

  He shifted so that his knees were almost touching the side of her chair. The denim looked faded and worn and a lot softer than the rock-hard muscle that flexed beneath the fabric. Good Lord, just looking at the man’s quads had her heart pounding inside her chest and her fingers itching to touch. Instead, she curled them tighter around the glass.

  She finished off her wine and stood up so that the lounger was between them. “And that’s where I met Olivia,” she reminded him—reminding both of them—of her close friendship with the woman who had been his lover and had likely given birth to his child.

  “I cared about Olivia,” Zach told her, standing to block her access to the door. “I wouldn’t have been involved with her otherwise. But I wasn’t in love with her, and she wasn’t in love with me.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Your relationship with Olivia really isn’t any of my business.”

  “And yet you keep throwing her name out whenever the topic of conversation touches on anything remotely personal, as if you’re deliberately putting up barriers between us.”

  “She was one of my best friends.”

  “Are you afraid that she would disapprove of my being here?”

  She shook her head. “According to the letter you showed me, she wanted you to have the chance to get to know Emma.”

  “I’m talking about my being here with you.”

  “You’re not here with me,” she denied.

  He smiled at that.

  “I mean—you’re here and I’m here,” she explained, conscious of the heat suffusing her cheeks. “But we’re not together.”

  “What if I want to change that?”

  She shook her head again. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  He took a step closer. “Well, apparently, we have a difference of opinion.”

  She lifted a hand to ward him off and sucked in a breath when her palm came into contact with his bare flesh. He was every bit as solid and warm as he looked, and she wanted—more than anything—to lean closer, to press herself against him, to feel the hard length of his body against hers.

  “Zach.” She’d meant to speak his name as a warning. Instead, it sounded like a plea.

  He took the empty wineglass from her hand and reached around her to set it back on the table. Then he lifted his hand to her face and gently cupped her cheek. The gesture was
so unexpected, so tender, she nearly sighed.

  “I just want to kiss you,” he said and brushed his thumb over the curve of her bottom lip, slowly, sensuously.

  “Definitely not a good idea,” she said, all too aware that the breathless tone of her voice contradicted her words.

  “Another difference of opinion,” he said easily, and lowered his mouth to hers.

  Chapter Seven

  She should pull away.

  Paige knew that would be the smart thing to do. But Zach’s hands were on her face, gentle but firm, holding her immobile beneath the sensual onslaught of his lips. And even if she’d been able to move, the truth was, she didn’t want to.

  His kiss was as gentle as his touch—and temptingly seductive. He kissed as she imagined he would make love—because yes, she had imagined not just kissing him but a whole lot more—slowly, deeply and incredibly thoroughly.

  With a soft sigh, she parted her lips, meeting his tongue with her own. He tasted of the wine they’d both drank, but somehow his flavor was stronger, richer and even more intoxicating. As if of their own volition, her hands slid over the hard planes of his chest, over the tight muscles of his shoulders, to link behind his neck.

  His fingers trailed down her throat, skimmed across her collarbone, then traced along the line of her spine, moving slowly downward until they curved around her bottom and pulled her closer. She felt the hard press of his arousal at the juncture of her thighs and moaned.

  His kiss wasn’t so gentle now. It was hot and hungry and so fiercely passionate that it made her shiver. Not because she was afraid, but because her own desire was just as powerful and overwhelming.

  She was hardly a virgin, but nothing in her experience had prepared her for being kissed by Zach Crawford. The kiss went on and on, and with each racing beat of her heart, the wanting inside of her grew stronger.

  She didn’t know how far things might have gone if he’d wanted to push for more. But he didn’t push at all. In fact, he was the one who eventually eased away.

  “I think you should go back up to bed now,” he whispered.

  Her blood was still churning, her pulse pounding, her knees weak, but when he spoke, his voice was level and so carefully controlled that she might have thought the bone-melting kiss they’d just shared had no effect on him. Until she looked up at him, and the fire that continued to burn in his eyes proved otherwise.

  To be wanted so much by such a man was…exhilarating. To want him so much that she couldn’t think about anything else was…terrifying.

  She ordered her trembling legs to move and stepped toward the door. “Good night.”

  Zach watched Paige slip back inside the house, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to follow. But he knew that what he needed right now was space—distance from the far-too-tempting woman who had him all tied up in knots.

  Damn. He never should have kissed her.

  If he hadn’t, he’d still be in the fantasy stage of wondering if her lips were as soft as they looked, if her taste was as sweet as he imagined. But the wondering had been driving him to distraction, and so he’d stopped speculating and started kissing—and the jolt of heat had seared him right down to his toes.

  Chemistry between a man and woman was an unpredictable thing. Sometimes it was there, sometimes it wasn’t. He’d been attracted to other women before, and he’d learned that sometimes the chemistry sparked and sometimes it fizzled. With Paige, it was positively explosive.

  A man had to be crazy to walk away from that kind of heat. Except that, in this case, Zach was all too aware that his efforts to stoke the flames between them could very well result in his getting burned.

  And as much as he wanted Paige, he wouldn’t do anything that might jeopardize his relationship with the daughter he’d only just found. If he hadn’t already done so.

  Because while he’d told himself it was “just a kiss”—and told her the same thing—they both knew it was a lie. There was nothing “just” about the kiss they’d shared. It wasn’t a simple touching of lips that was over and done. No, the kiss they’d shared had been a prelude to and a promise of so much more.

  And she’d been an equal participant in the kiss. Yeah, maybe he’d started it—but within a few seconds, she’d been just as involved in the lip-lock as he and making just as many promises.

  Thankfully, he’d learned a long time ago about the dangers of trusting in a woman’s promises, and he wouldn’t let himself get sucked in again.

  Ever.

  Paige had promised Zach that she would think about going to California with him, but the more she thought about it, the more she was sure that traveling across the country with him wasn’t a good idea. Unfortunately, she wasn’t prepared to share with him the real reason for her apprehension—namely, that she had a hard enough time resisting temptation in her own backyard without giving him the home-field advantage.

  But by Monday, Zach was really pressing for a response to his invitation, and when Paige continued to hedge, he asked, “Is it because I kissed you?”

  “Of course not,” she lied, because to admit otherwise would be to give the kiss far more significance than she was willing to acknowledge.

  “Because we won’t be alone there,” he told her, as if he understood the real reason for her hesitation despite her denials.

  She lifted her chin. “I’m not worried about being alone with you.”

  Zach’s gaze dropped to her mouth. His own curved.

  “Then what are you worried about?” he challenged.

  “Emma,” she said immediately. “She’s already been through one recent move, and I’m not sure how she’d tolerate traveling all the way to the West Coast.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

  “And have you ever traveled with a baby?” she asked, because she was sure the answer would be “no.” “Do you have any idea how much stuff we would have to haul with us? There’s her porta-crib and her booster seat and her car seat and—”

  “My sister Lauryn has two kids,” he told her. “When Regan, her eldest, was born, my parents redid Lauryn’s room as a nursery, so they have a crib and a change table and a rocking chair and a high chair and one of those exersaucer things and more toys than you could imagine.”

  “I just think, at this time, it makes more sense for you to make the trip on your own,” she suggested.

  But Zach shook his head. “If you and Emma won’t go with me, then I won’t go at all.”

  She shouldn’t care whether he went to California or not, but she knew that his family did. He’d been overseas for the past two years and during that time, he’d been in contact with them only via e-mail and the occasional phone call.

  Aside from how much she knew Zach wanted to see them, she knew what it would mean to them to be able to see him in person—because she knew what it had meant to her every time her dad had returned from an assignment. But that was ancient history.

  “The test results should be in next week,” she hedged. “Maybe we should wait until then.”

  “I’ve already changed my flight once,” he reminded her.

  She sighed. “You’re talking about a flight that’s leaving in two days. I might not even be able to get a ticket—”

  “I’ll take care of that,” Zach told her.

  Still she hesitated.

  “Please, Paige.”

  It was the entreaty in those blue, blue eyes even more than the plea in his words that tipped the scales. “All right,” she finally agreed.

  But two days later, as their plane touched down in San Francisco, Paige wasn’t feeling any more certain about her decision.

  “I’m really not sure this is a good idea,” she told him.

  Zach reached into the overhead bin for her carry-on. “It’s a little late now to be having second thoughts.”

  “I’ve had them since you first mentioned this trip,” she reminded him, setting Emma on her feet. “They’re just a lot more insistent right now.”


  “Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “I just think this is a little premature. I mean, what if it turns out that you’re not Emma’s father?”

  At first, Zach had seemed both baffled and frustrated by her continuing denials of Emma’s paternity. Now, he just seemed amused.

  “Then at least you’ll have had a chance to explore California wine country with a native,” he said easily.

  “Is it really that simple for you?”

  “No,” he admitted. “But I’ve never been the type to worry about ‘what ifs.’”

  “Not even when you’re flying?” she asked, genuinely curious.

  “Especially not when I’m flying. The absolute last thing you want when you’re in control of a fifteen-million-dollar plane is for your mind to be wandering.”

  “I guess that makes sense,” she acknowledged. “But—”

  Whatever she was going to say was forgotten when she caught a glimpse of the tall, stunning blonde who suddenly appeared and threw her arms around Zach.

  “I can’t believe you’re finally home.” She kissed first one cheek, then the other, then hugged him tight again.

  Zach cast a guilty glance in Paige’s direction. “What are you doing here, Hayden?”

  “You haven’t been home in two years,” the blonde reminded him. “I was worried that you might not remember the way.”

  “I told you I didn’t need a welcoming committee at the airport.”

  “I’m not a committee, I’m your sister. And since when have I ever listened to you?”

  He sighed. “Good point,” he acknowledged, then turned her around to face Paige and Emma. “This is my sister, Hayden.”

  But before he could introduce them to his sister, Hayden’s eyes grew wide. “Ohmygod.”

  And in that moment Paige knew that he had just sprung a big surprise on his sister and all her doubts and uncertainties about this trip multiplied tenfold. When he’d insisted that he wanted his family to meet Emma, she’d figured that they knew about her. Hayden’s reaction proved otherwise.