“Thank you,” he said on a whoosh of air. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”
She nodded and leaned in until her lips were just a whisper away from his. “Me too,” she answered before kissing him. She drew away far too quickly and smiled. “There’s just one thing I need to ask of you.”
“Anything,” he hastened to say. “Name it and I’ll move heaven and earth to make sure it’s yours.”
She shrugged and gave him another of those beautiful sweet smiles. “You probably don’t have to go that far,” she teased.
“What do you want from me?” he asked.
“Will you marry me?”
“I absolutely will,” he said and bent to kiss her again.
When they drew apart, Kirk looked at Sally, stunned by the gift she’d bestowed on him. “You won’t regret it. I promise to spend the rest of my life making sure you don’t.”
“As I will, too,” she answered solemnly.
For a moment they simply sat there and drank in each other’s presence, but then Kirk looked around them. “So, about me sleeping on the couch...”
Sally laughed out loud, a full-throttle belly laugh that immediately had Kirk responding in kind.
“I think we can forget the couch tonight, don’t you?” she said, getting to her feet and offering him her hand.
And, as Kirk walked with Sally into her bedroom, he knew that he was the luckiest man on earth. Lucky to have learned the truth about love before it was too late. Lucky to have a child on the way. And most of all, lucky to have this woman in his life.
* * * * *
If you liked this story of pregnancy and passion, pick up these other novels from USA TODAY bestselling author Yvonne Lindsay!
THE CHILD THEY DIDN’T EXPECT
ONE HEIR...OR TWO?
A FATHER’S SECRET
WANTING WHAT SHE CAN’T HAVE
Available now from Harlequin Desire!
* * *
And don’t miss the next LITTLE SECRETS story, LITTLE SECRETS: SECRETLY PREGNANT, by Andrea Laurence.
Available October 2017!
* * *
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If you enjoyed this book, you’ll love CAN’T HARDLY BREATHE, the next book in New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter’s ORIGINAL HEARTBREAKERS series.
Read on for a sneak peek!
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Can't Hardly Breathe
by Gena Showalter
CHAPTER ONE
DANIEL PORTER SAT at the edge of the bed. Again and again he dismantled and rebuilt his Glock 17. Before he removed the magazine, he racked the slide to ensure no ammunition remained in the chamber. He lifted the upper portion of the semiautomatic, detached the recoil spring as well as the barrel. Then he put everything back together.
Rinse and repeat.
Some things you had to do over and over, until every cell in your body learned to perform the task on autopilot. That way, when bullets started flying, you’d react the right way—immediately—without having to check a training manual.
When his eyelids grew heavy, he placed the gun on the nightstand and stretched out across the mattress only to toss and turn. Staying at the Strawberry Inn without a woman wasn’t one of his brightest ideas. Sex kept him distracted from the many horrors that lived inside his mind. After multiple overseas military tours, constant gunfights, car bombs, finding one friend after another blown to pieces, watching his targets collapse because he’d gotten a green light and pulled the trigger...his sanity had long since packed up and moved out.
Daniel scrubbed a clammy hand over his face. In the quiet of the room, he began to notice the mental chorus in the back of his mind. Muffled screams he’d heard since his first tour of duty. He pulled at hanks of his hair, but the screams only escalated.
This. This was the reason he refused to commit to a woman. Well, one of many reasons. He was too messed up, his past too violent, his present too uncertain.
A man who looked at a TV remote as if it were a bomb about to detonate had no business inviting an innocent civilian into his crazy.
He’d even forgotten how to laugh.
No, not true. Since his return to Strawberry Valley, two people had defied the odds and amused him. His best friend slash spirit animal Jessie Kay West...and Dottie.
My name is Dorothea.
She’d been two grades behind him, had always kept to herself, had never caused any trouble and had never attended any parties. A “goody-goody,” many had called her. Daniel remembered feeling sorry for her, a sweetheart targeted by the town bully.
Today, his reaction to her endearing shyness and unintentional insults had shocked him. Somehow she’d turned him on so fiercely, he’d felt as if years had passed since he’d last had sex rather than a few hours. But then, everything about his most recent encounter with Dot—Dorothea had shocked him.
Upon returning from his morning run, he’d stood in the doorway of his room, watching her work. As she’d vacuumed, she’d wiggled her hips, dancing to music with a different beat than the song playing on his iPod.
Control had been beyond him—he’d hardened instantly.
He’d noticed her appeal on several other occasions, of course. How could he not? Her eyes, once too big for her face, were now a perfect fit and the most amazing shade of green. Like shamrocks or lucky charms, framed by the thickest, blackest lashes he’d ever seen. Those eyes were an absolute showstopper. Her lips were plump and heart-shaped, a fantasy made flesh. And her body...
Daniel grinned up at the ceiling. He suspected she had serious curves underneath her scrubs. The way the material had tightened over her chest when she’d moved...the lushness of her ass when she’d bent over...every time he’d looked at her, he’d sworn he’d developed early-onset arrhythmia.
With her eyes, lips and corkscrew curls, she reminded him of a living doll. Blow her up, and she’ll blow me. He really wanted to play with her.
But he wouldn’t. Ever. She lived right here in town.
When Daniel first struck up a friendship with Jessie Kay, his father expressed hope for a Christmas wedding and gra
ndkids soon after. The moment Daniel had broken the news—no wedding, no kids—Virgil teared up.
Lesson learned. When it came to Strawberry Valley girls, Virgil would always think long-term, and he would always be disappointed when the relationship ended. Stress wasn’t good for his ticker. Daniel loved the old grump with every fiber of his being, wanted him around as long as possible.
Came back to care for him. Not going to make things worse.
Bang, bang, bang!
Daniel palmed his semiautomatic and plunged to the floor to use the bed as a shield. As a bead of sweat rolled into his eye, his finger twitched on the trigger. The screams in his head were drowned out by the sound of his thundering heartbeat.
Bang, bang!
He muttered a curse. The door. Someone was knocking on the door.
Disgusted with himself, he glanced at the clock on the nightstand—1:08 a.m.
As he stood, his dog tags clinked against his mother’s locket, the one he’d worn since her death. He pulled on the wrinkled, ripped jeans he’d tossed earlier and anchored his gun against his lower back.
Forgoing the peephole, he looked through the crack in the window curtains. His gaze landed on a dark, wild mass of corkscrew curls, and his frown deepened. Only one woman in town had hair like that, every strand made for tangling in a man’s fists.
Concern overshadowed a fresh surge of desire as he threw open the door. Hinges squeaked, and Dorothea paled. But a fragrant cloud of lavender enveloped him, and his head fogged; desire suddenly overshadowed concern.
Down, boy.
She met his gaze for a split second, then ducked her head and wrung her hands. Before, freckles had covered her face. Now a thick layer of makeup hid them. Unfortunate. He liked those freckles, often imagined—
Nothing.
“Is something wrong?” On alert, he scanned left...right... The hallway was empty, no signs of danger.
As many times as he’d stayed at the inn, Dorothea had only ever spoken to him while cleaning his room. Which had always prompted his early-morning departures. There’d been no reason to grapple with temptation.
“I’m fine,” she said, and gulped. Her shallow inhalations came a little too quickly, and her cheeks grew chalk white. “Super fine.”
How was her tone shrill and breathy at the same time?
He relaxed his battle stance, though his confusion remained. “Why are you here?”
“I...uh... Do you need more towels?”
“Towels?” His gaze roamed over the rest of her, as if drawn by an invisible force—disappointment struck. She wore a bulky, ankle-length raincoat, hiding the body underneath. Had a storm rolled in? He listened but heard no claps of thunder. “No, thank you. I’m good.”
“Okay.” She licked her porn-star lips and toyed with the tie around her waist. “Yes, I’ll have coffee with you.”
Coffee? “Now?”
A defiant nod, those corkscrew curls bouncing.
He barked out a laugh, surprised, amazed and delighted by her all over again. “What’s really going on, Dorothea?”
Her eyes widened. “My name. You remembered this time.” When he stared at her, expectant, she cleared her throat. “Right. The reason I’m here. I just... I wanted to talk to you.” The color returned to her cheeks, a sexy blush spilling over her skin. “May I come in? Please. Before someone sees me.”
Mistake. That blush gave a man ideas.
Besides, what could Miss Mathis have to say to him? He ran through a mental checklist of possible problems. His bill—nope, already paid in full. His father’s health—nope, Daniel would have been called directly.
If he wanted answers, he’d have to deal with Dorothea...alone...with a bed nearby...
Swallowing a curse, he stepped aside.
She rushed past him as if her feet were on fire, the scent of lavender strengthening. His mouth watered.
I could eat her up.
But he wouldn’t. Wouldn’t even take a nibble.
“Shut the door. Please,” she said, a tremor in her voice.
He hesitated but ultimately obeyed. “Would you like a beer while the coffee brews?”
“Yes, please.” She spotted the six-pack he’d brought with him, claimed one of the bottles and popped the cap.
He watched with fascination as she drained the contents.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist and belched softly into her fist. “Thanks. I needed that.”
He tried not to smile as he grabbed the pot. “Let’s get you that coffee.”
“No worries. I’m not thirsty.” She placed the empty bottle on the dresser. Her gaze darted around the room, a little wild, a lot nervous. She began to pace in front of him. She wasn’t wearing shoes, revealing toenails painted yellow and orange, like her fingernails.
More curious by the second, he eased onto the edge of the bed. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“All right.” Her tongue slipped over her lips, moistening both the upper and lower, and the fly of his jeans tightened. In an effort to keep his hands to himself, he fisted the comforter. “I can’t really tell you. I have to show you.”
“Show me, then.” And leave. She had to leave. Soon.
“Yes,” she croaked. Her trembling worsened as she untied the raincoat...
The material fell to the floor.
Daniel’s heart stopped beating. His brain short-circuited. Dorothea Mathis was gloriously, wonderfully naked; she had more curves than he’d suspected, generous curves, gorgeous curves.
Was he drooling? He might be drooling.
She wasn’t a living doll, he decided, but a 1950s pinup. Lord save me. She had the kind of body other women abhorred but men adored. He adored. A vine with thorns and holly was etched around the outside of one breast, ending in a pink bloom just over her heart.
Sweet Dorothea Mathis had a tattoo. He wanted to touch. He needed to touch.
A moment of rational thought intruded. Strawberry Valley girls were off-limits...his dad...disappointment... But...
Dorothea’s soft, lush curves deserved to be touched. Though makeup still hid the freckles on her face, the sweet little dots covered the rest of her alabaster skin. A treasure map for his tongue.
I’ll start up top and work my way down. Slowly.
She had a handful of scars on her abdomen and thighs, beautiful badges of strength and survival. More paths for his tongue to follow.
As he studied her, drinking her in, one of her arms draped over her breasts, shielding them from his view. With her free hand, she covered the apex of her thighs, and no shit, he almost whimpered. Such bounty should never be covered.
“I want...to sleep with you,” she stammered. “One time. Only one time. Afterward, I don’t want to speak with you about it. Or about anything. We’ll avoid each other for the rest of our lives.”
One night of no-strings sex? Yes, please. He wanted her. Here. Now.
For hours and hours...
No. No, no, no. If he slept with the only maid at the only inn in town, he’d have to stay in the city with all future dates, over an hour away from his dad. What if Virgil had another heart attack?
Daniel leaped off the bed to swipe up the raincoat. A darker blush stained Dorothea’s cheeks...and spread...and though he wanted to watch the color deepen, he fit the material around her shoulders.
“You...you don’t want me.” Horror contorted her features as she spun and raced to the door.
His reflexes were well honed; they had to be. They were the only reason he hadn’t come home from his tours of duty in a box. Before she could exit, he raced behind her and flattened his hands on the door frame to cage her in.
“Don’t run,” he croaked. “I like the chase.”
Tremors rubbed her against him.
“So...you want me?”
Do. Not. Answer. “I’m in a state of shock.” And awe.
He battled an insane urge to trace his nose along her nape...to inhale the lavender scent of her skin...to taste every inch of her. The heat she projected stroked him, sensitizing already desperate nerve endings.
The mask of humanity he’d managed to don before reentering society began to chip.
Off-kilter, he backed away from her. She remained in place, clutching the lapels of her coat.
“Look at me,” Daniel commanded softly.
After an eternity-long hesitation, she turned. Her gaze remained on his feet. Which was probably a good thing. Those shamrock eyes might have been his undoing.
“Why me, Dorothea?” She’d shown no interest in him before. “Why now?”
She chewed on her bottom lip and said, “Right now I don’t really know. You talk too much.”
Most people complained he didn’t talk enough. But then, Dorothea wasn’t here to get to know him. And he wasn’t upset about that—really. He hadn’t wanted to get to know any of his recent dates.
“You didn’t answer my questions,” he said.
“So?” The coat gaped just enough to reveal a swell of delectable cleavage as she shifted from one foot to the other. “Are we going to do this or not?”
Yes!
No! Momentary pleasure, lifelong complications. “I—”
“Oh, my gosh. You actually hesitated,” she squeaked. “There’s a naked girl right in front of you, and you have to think about sleeping with her.”
“You aren’t my usual type.” A Strawberry Valley girl equaled marriage. No ifs, ands or buts about it. The only other option was hurting his dad, so it wasn’t an option at all.
She flinched, clearly misunderstanding him.
“I prefer city girls, the ones I have to chase,” he added. Which only made her flinch again.
Okay, she hadn’t short-circuited his brain; she’d liquefied it. Those curves...
Tears welled in her eyes, clinging to her wealth of black lashes—gutting him. When Harlow Glass had tortured Dorothea in the school hallways, her cheeks had burned bright red but her eyes had remained dry.
Little Secrets--The Baby Merger Page 17