A Baby...Maybe? & How to Hunt a Husband

by Bonnie Tucker

  “I don’t know, but I know Arnold doesn’t make chick-flicks.”

  “Terminator it is, then.”

  NATE LOOKED at the woman curled in his arms. Shannon had fallen asleep sometime before the end of the movie. He hadn’t noticed right away. But gradually, she’d leaned his way, pressing her warm body against his.

  Leaning closer and closer.

  He’d wrapped an arm around her and had enjoyed the sensation of just holding her.

  The credits rolled and he smiled.

  She’d been right, Terminator was a romance, though he’d never thought of it that way.

  His smiled faded.

  What on earth was he doing?

  He was cuddled on the couch, a sleeping woman in his arms and he felt…almost content.

  He’d never even kissed her.

  They’d talked about kissing, but hadn’t.

  Instead they’d simply enjoyed watching a movie together. Shannon had made them popcorn and they’d sat on the couch like some old married couple watching a movie.

  He noticed a stray piece of hair falling over her eye. It just barely touched her eyelid because her hair was so short.

  Normally he liked long hair on women, but on Shannon…well, the short cut worked. It fit her personality. It sort of said, “wild and free-spirited.” But what her hair didn’t say was “sweet.” No, that’s where her eyes came in.

  Thinking of her eyes made him think about all the stuff he’d said. Sweet, goopy sort of stuff. Where on earth had that come from?

  It was well after midnight—well past the time for him to leave—and yet he’d stayed. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t bear to wake her. He just wasn’t ready to go yet.

  The phone rang, jarring him from his musings. Who would be calling her this late at night?

  Shannon didn’t even move.

  Without thinking, Nate grabbed the phone which was on the end table next to him.

  “Hello?” he asked in a hushed whisper.

  “Who is this?” a female voice asked.

  “Who are you trying to reach?” he countered.

  “Shannon. Shannon O’Malley.”

  “She’s sleeping right now. Could I take a message?”

  “Is this Bull?”

  “Yes,” he answered slowly.

  Who was this? He was sure it wasn’t Mrs. O’Malley. He’d recognize her voice. “With whom am I speaking?”

  “With whom? That’s pretty classy speech for a biker. I’m Shannon’s sister, Kate, by the way.”

  “Ah, Kate. The runaway bride.” He kept his voice soft, not wanting to wake Shannon.

  “She told you?” Kate asked, surprise evident in her voice, even through a phone line.

  “You’d be surprised how much she’s told me,” Nate said.

  He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to carry out his act for Shannon’s sister, but he wasn’t going to take a chance. If she wanted to explain their relationship and ruse later, that was up to her.

  “Well, she hasn’t mentioned you to me,” Kate said.

  If he wasn’t mistaken, she was annoyed now.

  He grinned. “I’m not surprised. We’ve only known each other a short time.”

  But it didn’t feel like a short time. Other than their short awkward period tonight, Nate felt as if he’d known Shannon a long time. A very long time.

  “Tell me about yourself,” Kate said. “I got a phone call from my mother, all frantic that Shannon brought you to dinner. You’ve got Mom totally distressed, you know. Something’s up.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. I’d give the phone to Shannon and let her answer your questions, but she’s sleeping. Would you like me to leave her a message?”

  “You’re answering her phone after midnight because she’s sleeping?” Kate asked slowly. “That in itself says a lot. No, don’t leave a message. I’ll call back tomorrow.”

  “Great. Good night.”

  He started to set the receiver back on the charger when he heard Kate say, “Hey, Bull?”

  He put the phone back to his ear. “Yes?”

  “If you hurt her, you’ll be mincemeat.” Her voice was serious. Very serious. “Shannon likes the world to think she’s tough, but underneath all her bravado, she’s not so tough at all. She’s totally soft and vulnerable. I won’t have you toying with her.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” he said.

  “I mean it.”

  “I know.” He paused and added, “It was nice talking to you, Kate.”

  “It was interesting talking to you, Bull.”

  He hung up and glanced at the woman still sleeping in his arms. The video had turned itself off and there was some late-night infomercial about some kitchen appliance on the television.

  Nate didn’t need to slice or dice anything bad enough to pay $29.99 for it.

  He should go.

  It was late.

  And yet, he didn’t move. He went back to studying Shannon and wondering what he was doing here, and why he was so reluctant to leave.

  SUNLIGHT TICKLED its way beneath Shannon’s eyelids, rousing her slowly from whatever she’d been dreaming about.

  It was one of those gray, gauzy sort of dreams that she couldn’t quite pinpoint, but she did know that it had left her feeling warm. Not in a heat sort of way, but in a comfortable sort of way.

  She lay in that fuzzy state between sleep and wakefulness and realized something wasn’t right.

  She kept her eyes closed and tried to decide just what was amiss through her sleep-fuzzed brain.

  It took a minute to realize what was out of place. That it wasn’t a pillow cushioning her head. No, it was something harder, warmer. Something that rose and fell in a rhythmic sort of way. Something like…

  A body.

  More specifically, her head was cushioned on someone’s chest.

  Her eyes popped open as the realization struck with full force. She was on the couch in her living room sleeping on Nathan Calder’s chest.

  How had that happened?

  The night came flooding back at full force.

  They’d put one over on her mother, come home, talked about kissing and a casual dating relationship, then watched The Terminator. Only she didn’t remember the end of the movie. She remembered sharing popcorn and sitting next to him….

  And now she’d spent the night with him.

  She grinned.

  Oh, that would twist her mom’s skirt.

  She chuckled at the thought. It was enough to shake Nate from his sleep. She felt the change in his breathing pattern and knew he was awake before his eyes even opened.

  “Good morning,” she said brightly.

  He sat up and pulled back, distancing himself from her. “Shannon, I’m so sorry. I meant to get up and go right after the movie, but you were sleeping so peacefully, then your sister called—”

  “My sister? Kate called here?”

  “And we talked for a while, then I was going to go, but I sat a moment and next thing I knew…well, this was the next thing I knew. I’m sorry.”

  “Nate, it’s okay.”

  “No, it isn’t. I’ve…” he paused, obviously searching for the word. “Imposed. Yeah, imposed. I didn’t mean to.”

  “Nate, really it’s fine.” She didn’t want to tell him that she sort of enjoyed waking up next to him. That she liked the warmth of his body. She could tell him there was something rather comfortable about snuggling next to him. She could, but she wouldn’t.

  She simply repeated, “It’s okay.”

  “But—”

  “No harm, no foul. I mean, it’s not as if you compromised my virtue.” She didn’t add that compromising with Nate was starting to look sort of appealing.

  She sat up and ran her fingers through her hair, knowing that appealing wasn’t quite the word she’d use to describe her morning look.

  “I guess you’re right,” he said slowly. “After all, I didn’t even kiss you, so your virtue is still very much inta
ct.”

  “There you go. See, no problem. Tell you what, if you give me a couple minutes to grab a shower, I’ll even play hostess and offer you breakfast.”

  “Yeah?” he asked with a grin.

  “Yeah.”

  “Does your hospitality extend to letting me grab a shower as well?”

  “I’m pretty sure that the book on etiquette my mother gave me when I turned sixteen would demand that I—”

  “Offer a guest a shower?” he filled in.

  “Yeah.”

  Nate laughed. “You’re nuts. Go get your shower and I’ll make myself at home. I’ll even make the coffee since you’re making the breakfast.”

  “Oh, you are a true gentleman, Bull.”

  “Yeah, Roxy, I try.”

  Shannon scampered off to get her shower and Nate watched her disappear down the hall.

  He’d just spent his first night with her.

  And he realized he didn’t want it to be the last night they spent together. Not that he was looking for anything permanent, nothing like his mother envisioned. But more nights with Shannon, that he could handle.

  Nate poked around in her kitchen, locating the coffee in the freezer and the filters in the cupboard over the coffee maker. It was a small kitchen, bright, without all the loud colors his mother favored. No, this was softer with a lot of whites and pale yellows.

  It suited Shannon.

  He’d just got the coffee ready and had pushed the button to start it when he heard the front door open.

  “Shannon?” a voice called.

  A voice Nate recognized immediately.

  Well, Shannon wanted her mother to believe they were an item, and it appeared she was going to get that wish answered in spades.

  He walked out of the kitchen into the living room where a very annoyed-looking Mrs. O’Malley stood.

  “I saw your motorcycle in the drive,” she said, disapproval evident in her voice.

  “Yeah. I didn’t plan on staying the night or I’d’ve put it in the garage. I don’t like letting my baby stay outside all night.”

  Last night Mrs. O’Malley had been knocked off guard, but she’d had time to regroup. Her stance would do a three-star general proud. Her tone left no doubt that she was back in control. “Where is my daughter?”

  “In the shower. I was just making coffee. Could I offer you a cup?”

  “No. I’m on my way to Mass and stopped to see if Shannon wanted to join me.”

  “Want me to go ask her?” he asked, smiling as if he didn’t have a clue why she’d take offense at the question.

  Mrs. O’Malley sputtered a moment, looking as if she’d swallowed a cow whole. “I…I don’t think so. Tell her I’ll call her later.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “And Bull?” Mrs. O’Malley said, moving a few steps closer.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “If you hurt her, you’ll be mincemeat.”

  Some of the humor left the situation. Nate raked a hand through his hair. “You’re the second O’Malley to tell me that in less than twenty-four hours. What is it that makes you all think Shannon couldn’t take care of me herself if I hurt her?”

  Her sister and mother might not think so, but Nate suspected Shannon was more than capable of standing up for herself. From what he could see, all the O’Malley women were formidable.

  “Shannon’s too soft-hearted for her own good,” her mother said. “She believes in fairy tales. I think that’s why she enjoyed planning her sister’s wedding so much. But I know that romance isn’t enough. That people need more than a good shot of lust to make a relationship work. I don’t think the two of you could possibly have that much in common. Odds are, this will end badly. I don’t want her hurt.”

  “And yet, you’re willing to see her married off just to win a bet,” Nate said gently.

  Mrs. O’Malley heaved a sigh and shook her head. “No. I want to see her married off because Shannon is the type of person who’s meant to be married. She needs someone to love, someone who in turn will love her to distraction. This bet…well, it simply presented an excuse to introduce her around.”

  “Someone to take care of her, you mean?”

  “I say what I mean, young man.” Mrs. O’Malley’s voice was once again sharp and in command. “I raised both of my daughters to be able to take care of themselves, but I also think life is more meaningful if you share it with someone.”

  She paused a moment and added, “Do you think you’re the man Shannon should be sharing her life with?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But I know that none of the guys you’ve set her up with are him,” Nate said.

  “So do I.”

  Her admission surprised him. “And yet, you continue to do it.”

  “In hopes that the next man would be the right man. The one she’s been waiting for.”

  “And you’re sure I’m not him?” he asked.

  “As sure as I can be. Shannon needs a good guy. Someone who will come home every night after work. She needs the little things, trading stories about their days, eating a quiet meal together. Something as simple as watching a movie together. Someone with common interests. I don’t think that’s you.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Nate said. “Maybe I’m not her Mr. Right, but I am her Mr. Right-now, so I’ll thank you to forget about setting her up with anyone else for a while.”

  “Fine,” Mrs. O’Malley said with a short nod. “Tell her I’ll talk to her later.”

  “Sure.”

  She started toward the door, then abruptly turned around. “And Bull, remember what I said.”

  “Don’t worry, I don’t intend to hurt her.”

  Mrs. O’Malley turned and left, shutting the front door with a soft thud.

  Nate went back to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee for himself as he pondered his confrontation with Shannon’s mom.

  Mrs. O’Malley was right. From the little Nate knew about her, Shannon was special. He’d known it that first night in Mick’s bar. And now, having spent time with her, he was even more convinced.

  He thought—

  “Hey, a man who makes me coffee in the morning, that’s my kind of man,” Shannon said, as she came into the kitchen, her hair still wet. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Her feet were bare. She didn’t have a speck of makeup on.

  She looked as far removed from Roxy as a woman could.

  And yet, this look was ever so much sexier.

  He forced himself not to think about how much sexier as he handed her a mug of coffee.

  “I believe you said something about breakfast,” he reminded her.

  She grinned. “Sure did.”

  “So what are you making me?” he asked.

  “Nothing. We’re going to get on your motorcycle, and drive down the street to Perkins. There, I plan to order a huge stack of pancakes, and drown them in syrup. How about you?”

  “So, I made the coffee, and you’re allowing me to take you to Perkins?”

  “Hey, it’s my treat.”

  “I wanted to try your cooking,” he said. “After growing up with my mother, well, let’s just say, I like to know how a woman cooks right up front.”

  “In this case, you don’t.”

  “That bad?” he asked.

  “Uh, you know your mom’s roast the other night? That looked good in comparison.”

  “Thanks for the warning then. Perkins it is.”

  “I thought you might see it that way,” she said with a laugh.

  “Do you mind if I get that shower before we go?”

  “Help yourself.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And Nate?” she called as he started toward the bathroom.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad you spent the night.”

  “Me, too,” he said, then turned and hurried down the hall. He liked being here with Shannon, liked holding her last night.

  He just plain liked her.

  And he didn’t have a clue wha
t to do about it.

  6

  SHANNON HELD the phone away from her ear and looked at it, as if it could provide some answers.

  She put it back to her ear, and said, “The dress?”

  “Yes. I need that dress back. When you get married, you’ll have to find your own dress. I’ve decided Mary Kathryn’s—”

  “Kate,” Shannon corrected automatically.

  “Kate’s dress doesn’t suit you.”

  She’d won.

  Her mother might be saying the dress doesn’t suit, but what she meant was that Bull didn’t suit.

  Her mom was done trying to marry Shannon off to just any man.

  Shannon was free and clear.

  Why wasn’t she feeling elated?

  “Honey, I want you to find the right man when the time’s right. You don’t have to rush anything.”

  “What about the bet?”

  “Don’t you worry about that. I love you and just want you to be happy.”

  “Mom,” Shannon said. She sniffed.

  A moment.

  She’d just had a moment with her mother.

  “Mom,” she said again.

  Brigit O’Malley was not one for big demonstrations. “Get that dress ready. I’ll pick it up later.”

  “About Bull,” Shannon said, ready to confess all, to tell her mother her nefarious plan.

  “Not one more word. This was a good conversation and I’ll not have it ruined by fighting about your boyfriend. I’ll stop by later this week and pick up the dress,” she said, hanging up abruptly.

  Shannon was victorious!

  Her mom was off her back.

  She could let the hair on her legs grow so long she would be able to braid it.

  She could go on a week-long chick-flick fest.

  There was a world of opportunities in front of her.

  But what she really wanted to do was call Nate and share her victory.

  Truth be told, she’d wanted to call him after he’d dropped her off on Sunday. She thought about calling to say hi. Maybe to see how the ride home had gone.

  Had he stalled the motorcycle?

  But she didn’t call. Didn’t want him to think she was reading more into their casual relationship than he was.

  She didn’t call and hoped he would.

  He didn’t.

  He didn’t call Monday either.