“No! No way.” Thumpa-thumpa-thumpa went her heart. “I told you earlier that I am not accepting your proposal.”

“Relax, Rebecca. I’m not proposing.” Seth sighed the sigh of a hurt man. She didn’t buy it for a second. “I do have some pride, you know.”

Not proposing? “But you’re kneeling.”

“I am.” He tugged at the laces on her left sneaker. “I’m tying your shoe, before you fall and I have to spend the night pacing in the hospital, worrying if you and our baby are okay.”

“Oh.” She took that in and shrugged in feigned indifference. “Well, then. Go ahead.”

“Besides which,” he said in an irritatingly cheerful manner, “you’ll be proposing to me soon enough. And when you do, Rebecca, I promise you that I will say yes.”

Dear Reader,

There are many instances throughout our lives that symbolize new beginnings: certain holidays, the start of each year, graduations, new jobs, falling in love, weddings and of course—the birth of a baby.

Usually these moments are filled with excitement and anticipation for what the future will bring. Sometimes, though, our happiness and hope give way to the crushing weight of fear. Fear can stop us in our tracks. Fear can make us back away from almost anything—even something as wondrous and miraculous as love.

In this book, An Officer, a Baby and a Bride, you’ll meet Rebecca, a woman who has allowed fear to form her decisions, to disastrous results, and Seth, a military man who has never been afraid of anything… until he’s faced with losing the woman and the child he loves.

At its heart, this story is about courage. Seth and Rebecca will not only have to fight their individual demons, but they’ll have to find a way to move beyond them in order to claim the future that fate has planned.

Every book I write holds a special place in my heart, but this story is one of my favorites. I hope it becomes one of yours, as well.

Enjoy!

Tracy Madison

About the Author

TRACY MADISON lives in northwestern Ohio with her husband, four children, one bear-size dog, one loving-but-paranoid pooch and a couple of snobby cats. Her house is often hectic, noisy and filled to the brim with laugh-out-loud moments. Many of these incidents fire up her imagination to create the interesting, realistic and intrinsically funny characters that live in her stories. Tracy loves to hear from readers. You can reach her at tracy@tracymadison.com.

An Officer,
a Baby
and a Bride

Tracy Madison

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my father: for bringing me Zero candy bars home

from work, taking me on motorcycle rides

and chasing down an ice cream truck for me.

Thank you, Dad, for all the ways you show your love.

Chapter One

Children’s voices, bright and happy, punctuated the late afternoon. Several houses down, a lawn mower rumbled its distinctive hum. The breeze carried the light perfume of flowers along with the appetizing scents of charcoal and grilled burgers. Cars drove by, leaves rustled and birds chirped. In all ways, the street was alive with the normal sounds and smells of spring.

Normalcy, Captain Seth Foster thought, was a type of heaven that most folks never really considered. Well, most civilians. He, on the other hand, had given the idea of normalcy a great deal of thought throughout his deployment in Afghanistan.

He’d returned to the States less than a week ago, and today, Seth had driven to his parents’ house in Portland, Oregon, for an extended leave. Four weeks of rest lay in front of him. His plan for every day of those four weeks was to engage in completely normal activities.

Activities such as eating a home-cooked meal with his family, verbally sparring with his two older brothers, reconnecting with his parents and now, sitting on the front porch of the Victorian home he’d grown up in, enjoying a beer with the company of his brothers.

Seth had anticipated this moment, this exact second in time, when life would—for a little while, at least—become ordinary again.

Of course, he hadn’t anticipated that his lamebrained brother had been keeping a secret for months. Or that Jace would choose this moment to reveal that secret, and in doing so, dispel all of Seth’s plans for a normal visit home.

Seth took a long draw from his beer before settling his gaze on Jace, the middle brother in the Foster clan. Their older brother, Grady, seemed as shocked by Jace’s disclosure as Seth was but had wisely kept his mouth shut—though he hadn’t left his brothers alone to battle it out. Nah, he’d stay put and watch over them, ready to jump in if what followed took a nasty turn.

Keeping his attention on Jace, Seth said, “I’m not going to kill him, Grady. Even if I was so inclined, the Air Force doesn’t take kindly to fratricide.”

“I figured that much.” Grady stretched out his long legs. “Still, think I’ll sit right here for a while. Enjoy my beer.”

“I’m not going to hit him, either.”

“I would.” Grady’s tenor was flat. “If he kept that type of news away from me.”

Jace cleared his throat. “If either of you want to clock me across the jaw, go for it. But you should know I’d make the same choice today under the same circumstances.”

The temper that Seth had managed to contain flared into being. “Watch it, bro, or I might take you up on that.” God, he still couldn’t wrap his mind around Jace’s announcement. “You’re one hundred percent in this? There is zero doubt that Rebecca is pregnant?”

“I’m certain.” Jace raked his fingers through his shaggy black hair. “I wasn’t when I originally met with her. Which is partly why I didn’t tell you then.”

Seth remembered asking Jace to look in on Rebecca Carmichael, a woman he’d corresponded with for nearly a year before their meeting the prior October. He’d been given a short leave from active duty to recoup from an ill-fated mission. After attending a funeral, he spent his time here, in Portland. It had taken several phone conversations, but Rebecca had finally agreed to meet for coffee.

Closing his eyes for a millisecond, Seth savored the taste of the icy-cold microbrew. Coffee became dinner, which turned into drinks, which then became a weekend Seth would never forget. When he returned to duty, his goals for the future—which had always been absolute—shifted into something different than he’d ever seen for himself. A future he hoped might include Rebecca. He’d been all set to take it slow, to keep their relationship on the easy and familiar ground on which it had started, when Rebecca stopped writing. Concerned, he tried reaching her by phone, only to find her number disconnected.

This remained the status quo until sometime in January, when Seth emailed Jace and asked him to ascertain that Rebecca was okay. Jace’s response that Rebecca was fine, that her life had been busy but she would get in touch when she could, eased Seth’s worry. When another month passed without a peep, Seth figured that was Rebecca’s way of saying goodbye.

He’d written her once more, wished her well and focused on the day to day. Every now and then his thoughts would return to her, to the future he’d barely glimpsed before it dissolved into dust. For the most part, though, Seth had pushed Rebecca out of his mind.

Until now. Until faced with the possibility that she was pregnant with his child.

“How do you know for certain?” Seth asked, picking up the conversation where Jace had left off. “Have you talked to her again? Seen her?”

“I haven’t, but… a friend kept tabs on her.” Jace spoke quickly, as if worried Seth would interrupt him. “I know she’s pregnant. What I don’t know is who the father is.”

“What friend? You didn’t involve Olivia or Melanie in this, did you?” Grady asked, speaking of his wife and Jace’s fiancée.

“If I’d told Olivia, I might as well have told you,” Jace shot back. “And you’d have gone to Seth right away, which is what I was trying to avoid. Nor did I tell Melanie. She wouldn’t have approved of what she would describe as my… ah… kinglike attitude.”

Grady chuckled. “She’s called you out on that a few times already, hasn’t she?”

“You’re one to talk.” Jace glowered at Grady. “Because talking Olivia into dating you instead of giving her the divorce she wanted was so unkinglike.”

Grady shrugged, apparently not bothered by Jace’s statement. “We didn’t get divorced, so I’d say my methods worked fine. Besides, what happens between…”

Frustration roared through Seth’s blood. On a different day, he’d love to hear every detail of his brother and sister-in-law’s reconciliation. The couple had separated after their five-year-old son Cody had died in a tragic car accident. A drunk driver had lost control of his vehicle and smashed into Grady’s, killing the boy almost instantly.

It had been a horrible time for all of them. Seth hadn’t believed that Grady and Olivia would be able to move beyond such an all-encompassing pain. Somehow, though, they had. He was happy for them. And when he learned Olivia was expecting a baby in August, now only a few months away, he’d been even happier.

Now, though, he wanted to hear about Rebecca and the baby she carried.

“How did your friend keep tabs on Rebecca, Jace?” Seth asked, dragging his brother’s attention back to the current topic of conversation.

“It’s like this… I hired an investigator friend of mine to—”

“You hired a P.I. to spy on Rebecca?” Seth was three seconds away from leaping out of his chair and strangling his brother. “A little overkill, don’t you think?”

“All he did was employ Rebecca as his accountant and set up monthly appointments to see how she was doing. He didn’t spy on her.” Jace pulled in a breath. “Look, if she needed something, I wanted to know. But no one followed her around or snapped pictures of her.”

“So you hired a P.I. to spy on her,” Seth repeated, his anger growing by the second. “Whether he saw her once a month or sat in front of her house every damn night, his goal was to retrieve information in a covert manner. Is that correct?”

“Okay, yes.” Jace planted his elbows on his knees. “I know it was wrong, but I wanted to be in a position to help if she needed anything. I swear, Seth, my intentions were honorable.”

Seth gave a short nod, hearing the truth in his brother’s words. “You realize that you wouldn’t have had to go to such lengths if you’d shared your suspicions up front? Dammit, Jace! If she is carrying my baby, I had a right to know the second you thought that was a possibility.”

“Why?” Jace countered, his eyes unflinching. “She wasn’t responding to your emails or letters. You couldn’t reach her by phone. There was nothing you could do.”

“I would’ve liked the opportunity to try.” Seth swore again. “I’m working real hard here to keep my temper in check, but you’re making that difficult. We’re brothers. We’re supposed to look out for each other, so for the life of me, I cannot comprehend—”

“What do you think I was doing? I knew you’d be ticked.” Jace gave a tired shake of his head. “But I was looking out for you. My goal was to protect you.”

“Protect me?” Seth said, his voice dangerously soft as he deduced what Jace was getting at. “You believed I wouldn’t be able to do my job safely if I knew Rebecca might be pregnant with my child? Am I getting this right?”

Seth’s job, as a pilot in the Air Force, typically didn’t carry that much risk. And while his deployment to Afghanistan, where he was part of a planning cell, had placed him in a few precarious situations, his role there had also been relatively safe. Even so, his family worried.

“I wanted you to come home safe.” Jace’s jaw set in the stubborn line all Foster men were known for. “So yeah, bro, I decided to wait until you were here to tell you. So you could focus on facts and not what-ifs. Why is that so wrong?”

“Because it was an idiotic move,” Grady said without rancor. “Imagine if I knew something about Melanie that involved you and I kept that away from you?”

“That’s an idiotic statement,” Jace retorted, also without rancor. “I’m here. I have the ability to go to Melanie and deal with whatever you might have discovered. Seth wasn’t here. Seth was in Afghanistan, doing God knows what.” He set pleading eyes upon Seth. “I worried about you nonstop. This family can’t take another loss.”

Jace was referring to Cody and the pain everyone in their family had gone through, still went through. If there was one thing Seth would change if he had the power, it would be the senseless death of his nephew. The fiercest edge of his anger receded. He didn’t agree with Jace’s decisions, but he understood his brother’s motivation.

“I get it,” Seth said with a sigh. “However, you went about it the wrong way. I have been trained to focus on the job, on the objective of any given mission. Emotions do not, cannot, interfere when you’re on the job.”

“Look, you’re my baby brother,” Jace said. “I’ll always want to protect you. I can’t apologize for that, but I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

Well, that was considerably more than Seth figured he’d get. He remained frustrated with Jace, and he was drowning in the knowledge that he might have a child coming into this world. How could Rebecca keep that away from him?

The possibility existed the baby wasn’t his, and that was why Rebecca had stopped communicating. On a logical level, that scenario made the most sense. But his ramped-up intuition and the facts of that weekend told a different story. Even without those facts, Seth had learned years ago to trust his instincts. He wasn’t about to stop now.

Clenching and unclenching his empty hand, he considered if he should push the subject with Jace. Why, though? Wasting minutes arguing wasn’t the smartest use of Seth’s time. A better use would be deciding how to proceed.

In any mission, the first step was gathering all of the necessary intel. Only then could the following steps be planned and executed with success.

“Fair enough,” he said in a controlled manner. “I’ll set your misguided actions aside because you’re my brother and I believe you were operating with good intentions.” Seth finished his beer, waited a beat and said, “Tell me everything you know.”

If a room could be a living, breathing entity, then this room had devoured hundreds of stuffed pink teddy bears, swallowed several dozen bottles of Pepto-Bismol and then spewed all of it out in a massive spray of pink. There were pink streamers, pink balloons, pink plates, pink glasses, pink napkins in pink napkin holders and pink flowers. Not to mention the multitudes of little pink cakes and pastries, which the guests could wash down with pink punch that had pink ice cubes frozen in the shapes of tiny baby feet and baby rattles.

In other words: a major overabundance of pink.

Rebecca Carmichael rubbed her swollen belly while holding back a groan. Her unborn daughter responded with a flurry of miniature kung fu kicks, as if expressing her profound agreement with her mother’s silent assessment.

Yes, definitely too much pink.

Rebecca could only blame herself. If she’d gotten out of bed earlier, she could have helped Jocelyn decorate, and by doing so, limited the explosion of color that had overtaken her earth-toned living room. But she’d slept in and her sister had taken full advantage.

Planting her hands on her hips, Rebecca spun in a slow circle, taking in the entire spectacle. Maybe she could get away with pulling down a few of the Congratulations! It’s a Girl! banners, along with a good handful or two of the streamers.

Except the last thing she wanted was to hurt her sister’s feelings. Jocelyn had put considerable effort into planning today, and the baby shower was important to her.

“What do you think, kid?” Rebecca asked her rounded belly. “Will your aunt notice if a few of her decorations go missing?”

Before her brilliant daughter—because of course, she would prove to be brilliant—had a chance to respond, the familiar sound of Rebecca’s mother and sister arguing floated from the kitchen. Now what? When Allison and Jocelyn got into it, they could keep going for hours.

Resigned to playing peacemaker, Rebecca trudged toward the kitchen. Jocelyn was only twenty-two, seven years younger than Rebecca, and hadn’t yet learned to pick her battles with their mother. Allison Carmichael, as much as Rebecca loved her, was the type of mother that completely took to heart the saying, “Mother knows best,” even when she didn’t.

Rebecca paused at the threshold, taking stock of the situation before making herself known. The two women were on the other side of the room, each gripping one end of a large, plastic platter filled with tiny, cutout sandwiches that, thankfully, were not pink.

Allison’s platinum-blond-dyed hair was loose and disheveled, the greater part of it no longer clasped behind her head. Her cheeks were flushed a flustered red and her green eyes held the fire of defiance. She was definitely in mother-knows-best mode.

She tugged on the platter. “Let it go, Jocelyn! I’m not finished with it.”

Rebecca’s sister, a shorter and much younger version of Allison, whose blond hair had yet to need the help of a colorist, tugged the tray back toward her. “You are too finished, Mother! There is nothing wrong with the amount of sandwiches on this platter.”

“You have at least twelve people coming here today, young lady. With you, me and Rebecca, that’s a minimum of fifteen. You need to serve enough sandwiches so everyone can take two.” Allison yanked at the tray again. “Why don’t you ever listen?”

“Because that’s stupid! Not everyone will want—”

“Stop! Both of you,” Rebecca said, deciding if she didn’t halt this now, her kitchen would shortly be decorated with flying mini-sandwiches. “Mom, let go of the tray. Jocelyn’s right. She’s planned this, so let her do it her way.”

“Happy baby shower day!” Jocelyn said, her voice changing to its normal chipper tone. She continued to grip the platter with everything she had. “Did you see the living room?”

“Yes, Rebecca. Did you see the outlandish amount of pink this child used?” Allison pulled the tray toward her. “I told her it was too much, but she refused to listen. As normal.”

Wow. Rebecca didn’t agree with her mother often. Had the world stopped spinning on its axis when she wasn’t paying attention? “I think the living room looks terrific,” she said to save her sister’s feelings. “But I came in here to ask for your help, Mom. I see you’re busy, so…”

“Oh!” Allison let go of the platter, causing Jocelyn to back up several paces in quick succession. “What can I help with?”

Thinking fast, Rebecca said, “The nursery. Can you pop upstairs for a second?”

“Of course I can.” Allison tucked a few strands of hair into place before focusing on Jocelyn. “Do what you want with those sandwiches, but I’m telling you there are not enough on that tray. The shower will barely get started and you’ll be back here refilling it.”

Jocelyn set the platter on the counter while tossing Rebecca a grateful smile. “It’ll be fine. Go help Rebecca, Mom. I have this under control.”

“Well, we’ll see, won’t we?” Allison whisked her petite form to the other side of the kitchen. “Are you coming, Rebecca?”

“Go on up. I’ll be there in a minute.” Her mother nodded and exited the room. Rebecca waited until she heard Allison’s footsteps on the stairs before facing her sister. “Can you please try to get along with her today?”

Jocelyn’s eyes—a mirror of their mother’s—narrowed. “I am trying. She’s ridiculous! She wasn’t even supposed to come with me this morning. She’s a guest! But no, she had to force her way into this like she does everything else.”

“She means well. I know she’s been more high-strung lately than normal, but she loves us.” Rebecca stepped forward and pulled her sister into a tight hug. Well, as tight as she could with a seven-and-a-half-month-size stomach between them. “I’m having a baby. You’re leaving for grad school in the fall. For the first time in forever, Mom and Dad will be completely alone in that house. Give her a break.”

Disengaging from the hug, Jocelyn said, “I didn’t think of it that way.”

“Well, start thinking of it that way. They’ll miss you.”

Jocelyn exhaled a long, drawn-out sigh. “Fine. I’ll add more stupid sandwiches to the platter, but I don’t see how that changes anything. You’re still having a baby and I’m still moving out of casa à la crazy in a few more months.”

“It makes her feel good. Who cares why?”

“She’s probably right, anyway.” Jocelyn coughed. “Just don’t tell her I said that.”

“I won’t.” Rebecca chuckled as she made her way upstairs.

Her family was her salvation. When she shared she was having a baby, they’d supported her instantly. Even her story about using a sperm bank to conceive had been accepted easily enough. Sure, there’d been a fair amount of concern, but that was natural. Being single and pregnant wasn’t on most parents’ to-be list for their daughters.

Entering the nursery, Rebecca found her mother sitting in the antique rocking chair, her eyes misty and emotional. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, honey. I’m fine. I don’t know what got into me.” Allison shook her head, as if surprised by her earlier vehemence. “Your sister’s all grown-up. I guess I need to accept that.”

“You do, but I imagine it isn’t easy.” Rebecca leaned against the wall to support her aching back. “And I’ll need you lots after this little one is born. Six more weeks. I can’t believe how fast this pregnancy is flying by.”

“I’ll be here for you every step of the way,” Allison promised. “I can’t wait to meet my granddaughter. I only wish…”

“Wish what?”

“I worry, that’s all.”

“I’m ready for this,” Rebecca said with a glance around the fully furnished and ready-to-go nursery. “You don’t need to worry.”

“You tell me that when your daughter is twenty-nine years old, pregnant and doesn’t have a partner to support her.” Allison blew out a shaky breath. “I know you believe you’ll never love another man like you loved Jesse, but honey-girl, you will.”

Jesse. Rebecca’s heart still pinged at the memory of her first real love. He’d joined the Army and was killed in what the media liked to call “friendly” fire. If a person ended up dead, there was nothing friendly about it. Losing Jesse had been devastating, and it was because of this loss that Rebecca started writing to men and women who were stationed overseas.

“My decision to have this baby wasn’t about Jesse,” Rebecca said quietly, adding another layer of duplicity to her original lie. “I miss him, but he’s been gone a long time.”

“You still pine for him. And you haven’t dated a man in years.” Allison looked away. “As excited as I am about holding my granddaughter, I wish you’d given yourself a chance to meet someone else before deciding to become a single mother.”

Rebecca pushed out a sigh. Part of her yearned to come clean about Seth Foster, the Air Force man she’d been pen pals with for months before an unexpected leave brought him to Portland. They’d arranged a meeting, and the heat between them had been instantaneous. She’d known before she finished her first cup of coffee that they’d end up in bed together.

That weekend, along with one broken condom, resulted in a positive pregnancy test almost four weeks after Seth returned to duty. Sleeping with a man she’d barely met—their pen-pal correspondence notwithstanding—was a complete aberration for Rebecca. Explaining her uncharacteristic behavior to her family, especially when she didn’t plan on seeing Seth again, had seemed impossible. That was when she came up with the sperm bank story.

And she hadn’t communicated with Seth since. She’d even changed cell phone providers and accepted a new phone number so he couldn’t contact her by telephone.

“I couldn’t be more prepared than I already am. I really am okay.” And most of the time, she was. Even if she felt horrible for her lie. Even if she continually questioned her decision to hide her pregnancy from Seth. “Seriously, Mom. I can do this.”

“You can do anything you set your mind to, but that won’t stop me from worrying. Or from wishing you had a partner to support you.” Allison glanced around the nursery. “What did you need my help with? Everything looks perfect.”

Rebecca’s eyes welled with tears. She rubbed her cheeks when they dripped down. Darn pregnancy hormones. “Honestly? I just wanted a few minutes alone with my mother.”

“I’m here.” Allison stepped over and kissed her on the cheek. “I know you agreed to this shower for your sister, but try to enjoy yourself. You deserve to celebrate your child’s life.”

“You’re right.” Rebecca smiled through her tears. “Let’s celebrate.”

Almost two hours later, Rebecca was enjoying herself. True, her living room was stuffed with an assorted mesh of family and friends, but the atmosphere held support, love and a fair amount of hilarity—much of which was due to Jocelyn’s creative baby shower games.

They’d started with a round of “Who can suck the fastest?” where each guest had a baby bottle half-filled with punch and whoever emptied the bottle first won the prize. Rebecca’s best friend, Felicia, won, which tickled Rebecca to no end.

Next was a relay race type of game. Guests were put into teams, and each team member had to quickly blow up a balloon, stuff the balloon under their shirt and then pop their balloon. Stuffing anything under Rebecca’s shirt proved impossible, so her team had lost.

Now, they were in the beginning stages of playing “Pin the Sperm on the Egg,” and Rebecca had decided to sit this one out. She’d already successfully matched sperm with egg about seven-and-a-half months ago. In her opinion, that made her the clear winner.

“Okay, ladies. I need you to line up,” Jocelyn instructed in a loud voice. “When it’s your turn, I’ll blindfold you, hand you one of these—” Jocelyn displayed one of the cutout sperms, which elicited another blast of laughter “—and spin you in circles. Whoever gets their sperm closest to the center of the egg wins!”

Everyone except Rebecca formed a line that snaked through the living room and into the dining room. She couldn’t see well where she was—and oh, she very much wanted to see her mother holding a giant sperm—so she moved to a chair that gave her an unobstructed view.

When Allison reached the front of the line, Rebecca’s lips twitched. Maybe it was juvenile to find this so humorous, but she couldn’t help it.

The sudden peal of the doorbell stopped Allison’s hand in midmotion. Rebecca struggled to stand since she was closest to the door. “Someone get a picture of my mother, please. It will make a great addition to the baby book.”

Jocelyn giggled. “You got it, sis.”

“Oh, stop. You’re not taking a picture of me like this,” Allison said, her tone a good three octaves higher than normal. “My granddaughter will not see me…”

Her mother’s indignant voice followed Rebecca to the door. Assuming her visitor was a late-arriving guest, she swung open the door without any hesitation.

The first thing she saw was a set of ridiculously broad shoulders. Next was the firm, hard line of a clean-shaven, angled jaw. Her eyes widened and a tremor of shocked awareness whipped through her, nearly causing her legs to buckle.

No. Oh, God. No!

A tiny, barely heard moan escaped from her lips. This was bad. Really, really, bad. This was trouble with a capital T.

Seth Foster. Here. And she had nowhere to hide.

Chapter Two

“Hello, Rebecca.” Seth, looking far too austere in his dress blues, dipped his head in appraisal. “I would’ve called, but you ruled out that basic courtesy by changing your number.”

Rebecca had been wrong earlier. The world hadn’t stopped spinning on its axis then, but it surely had now. Grasping the doorframe, she willed herself to hold it together. She blinked, hoping she was experiencing some type of a weird, hormone-induced hallucination.

If so, he looked good. Tall and strong. Fierce and confident. Black hair in a military cut that highlighted the chiseled, almost exotic features of his face. And those eyes. Far too dark to be described as brown, but a smidgen off from being pure black. The color reminded her of strong, rich coffee lightened with the smallest dollop of cream.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” she whispered. “Why are you here?”

His intense gaze dropped to her stomach. “I’d say I’m the one who should be asking the questions. I have several in mind. I hope you’re prepared to answer them.”

“You need to leave. I’m not prepared for an unexpected visit.”

“I’m not leaving, Rebecca.” His lips curved at the corners in a grin that didn’t meet his eyes. Even so, her knees weakened another fraction. Just as they had the first time he smiled at her. “You owe me a conversation, along with a few explanations.”

“This… isn’t a good time,” she somehow managed to say. “I’m having a… um… a get-together. There are a lot of people here. You really have to go.”

Seth narrowed his eyes. “Let me make myself very clear,” he said slowly, carefully. “It does not matter how often you ask, I am not moving so much as an inch until we talk.”

“You can’t show up and expect me to drop everything at your whim.” She pushed out the words with the intent of sounding firm and decisive. Unfortunately, her shaking voice didn’t lend itself to strength as much as it gave credence to her anxiety.

“Oh, but I do expect that. Given your obvious distress at my presence, it seems clear that I have rights here. Rights that you have chosen to ignore.”

He knew. She allowed herself ten seconds of panic before she lifted her chin. He couldn’t know. Okay, her condition was obvious. Nothing she could do about that. But if she stuck with her story, maybe she’d be able to bluff her way out of this. She opened her mouth with every intention of doing so when her mother and sister appeared, crowding in on either side of her.

Great. It seemed their timing was as impeccable as always.

“What’s going on?” Jocelyn asked from Rebecca’s right side. “Who is this?”

One brow shot up and a dash of genuine amusement sifted over Seth’s appearance. “Yes, Rebecca. I’m as interested in your response as they are. Who am I?”

She gave him the evil eye. “A friend… of sorts. One of the military personnel I write to.” Addressing her mother and sister, she said, “He—Seth—didn’t have my phone number, so he thought it would be appropriate to stop by and say hi in person. He was about to leave.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Seth,” Jocelyn said curiously. “I’m Jocelyn, Rebecca’s sister, and this is our mom, Allison.”

Seth stared at Rebecca as if her sister hadn’t spoken. “Don’t you mean ‘used’ to write to? The last time I heard from you was about a month after my leave, after the weekend we spent together. Do you remember that weekend, Rebecca?”

She didn’t bother trying to speak. What could she say to that, anyway? Of course she remembered that weekend. Every scorching second was engraved in her memory.

“Humor me for a minute, while I ascertain my timing is correct.” Seth angled his arms over his chest and leaned against the porch railing, looking for all the world as a man completely at ease. “We saw each other in mid-October. We corresponded as normal until the second week in November, which was when you ceased all contact. Would you say that was accurate?”

Allison gasped from Rebecca’s left, probably doing the math.

“I’ve been a little busy.” Hey, why bother pretending there wasn’t a giant-size pink elephant hovering between them? “As you can plainly see.”

“When is your due date?” He paused for a good fifteen seconds, as if to let the question—the insinuation—settle in. “If I’m right, I’d say you’re due in what… about six weeks?”

“You’re wrong,” she said out of desperation. Her mother tensed beside her. “I’m due in August. The fourteenth. Ten weeks from now.”

“Really? I heard something different,” Seth drawled. “You’re sure about that date?”

“I know when I’m due,” Rebecca said, keeping her voice level and her gaze steady.

Allison clasped her arm. “Sweetheart, is there a problem here I should know about?”

“We should go inside, Mom,” Jocelyn said. “We still have guests here.”

“Hold on a minute.” Seth’s jaw hardened as he looked from Allison to Jocelyn. “Maybe I should be asking you two these questions. Is Rebecca due in August?”

“No,” her mother said clearly, if quietly. “She’s due in July, but I’m sure she has an excellent reason for saying August. You do, Rebecca, don’t you?”

“This doesn’t concern us, Mother,” Jocelyn hissed. “You have to learn to butt out.”

“It’s fine, Jocelyn.” Rebecca closed her eyes for a brief second and attempted to regain her balance. She wasn’t upset with her mother for being honest—no one should have to lie for her—but now she had to decide what to do about it. Could she salvage this? More to the point, should she? “My mother is correct. I’m due on July fourteenth.”

Anger and disbelief, along with another emotion that Rebecca couldn’t identify, washed over Seth. “Six weeks, then, just as I said. Not ten. Why the lie?”

“Because I knew you’d jump to the wrong conclusion and I didn’t feel like explaining the personal details of my life.” Swallowing heavily, she shrugged. “It seemed simpler and more expedient to fudge the dates a little.”

“I don’t believe you,” Seth said flatly. “Stop with the lying, already. Were you ever going to contact me?” A pained expression darkened his face. “I was worried when I didn’t hear from you. I even sent my brother here to check on you.”

He had. She shouldn’t have been surprised by the gesture. Seth was an honorable man, and she should have anticipated that he’d go out of his way to assure himself of her well-being.

But she had been surprised. Disarmed, too. Enough of both that she nearly wrote Seth about the baby after Jace had left. An impulse she might have followed through with if not for the framed photograph that, at the time, sat next to her monitor. The very same photo she and Jesse had planned on using when they announced their engagement.

As it turned out, they never had the chance to share that information with anyone but their families. The photograph had been used, though, along with many other snapshots of Jesse. At the funeral home, on a table filled with memories of Jesse’s life.

Recently, Rebecca had packed away her memorabilia of Jesse. She was having a baby. It was time to focus on the future. Right now, though, she was more concerned with the present.

“I told Jace I was fine,” she said to Seth. “You did get that message, didn’t you?”

“I got it. But he tuned in to what you didn’t tell him,” Seth said, his voice etched with ice. “You tried to hide your pregnancy, but he noticed the signs. And yesterday, he told me everything. Granted, I would’ve appreciated being made aware of your condition earlier, but at least someone had the decency to fill me in.”

“Rebecca? Who is this young man?” Allison broke in, apparently ready for an explanation. “Is he alluding to what I think—”

“Give me a minute here, Mom. What signs?” Rebecca asked Seth, bringing that day to the forefront of her memory. “We had a cup of coffee, talked and he left.”

“You had juice, not coffee. You were wearing what looked like a maternity shirt. The kicker was the bottle of prenatal vitamins in your kitchen.” Now, Seth’s eyes were filled with steely anger. “How could you keep this from me? I have the right to know about my child!”

A choked-sounding sob emerged. She tried to process everything that was happening but failed. What should she do now? Spontaneous decisions were not her strong suit. She needed time to reflect on every possible course of action. But Seth wasn’t going to give her that time.

“Look, mister,” Jocelyn said, taking the heat for Rebecca. “My sister used a sperm bank to get pregnant. So I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but you’re upsetting her.” Jocelyn pushed herself to the front, shielding Rebecca. “I think you should leave.”

“A sperm bank? Is that what you told them, Becca?” Seth leaned over, picked her itty-bitty sister up by the waist and gently moved her to the side. “Or is your sister lying for you?”

“Jocelyn isn’t lying.” Rebecca folded her arms across her chest in defense of Seth’s endless questions. “And yes, that’s what I told them.”

Every part of him grew still and silent, reminding her of those odd, bleak seconds before a storm blew in. When he spoke, it was with a quiet determination that made her heart pound even more furiously. “Tell them the truth. Before I do it for you.”

“What’s the truth?” her mother and sister demanded in near-perfect unison.

“Um… well.” The baby kicked, as if voicing the same question. Rebecca looked at her mother, then her sister and then at Seth. He wasn’t going to give up. He wasn’t going to buy into a story she had zero way of proving. He’d likely bring in attorneys and DNA tests and create all sorts of havoc until he learned the truth.

If she continued to deny what he already knew, he might even try to take her child away from her. He might even succeed.

“Tell them,” Seth pushed, his tone insistent and hard. “Tell me.”

“Okay! I—I lied. To you, to my family, to everyone. Is that what you want to hear? This baby is ours,” Rebecca admitted in a tremor-filled voice. “And yes, you have the right to know.”

Her mother’s relieved statement of “Thank you, God” barely registered in Rebecca’s numbed brain. Everything in her was focused on Seth. On his response. On what this moment would mean for her and for her child.

But he didn’t speak. His reaction was a sharp intake of breath while he continued to stare at her in shock and disbelief. In anger, too, she was sure.

She couldn’t blame him for any of those feelings. “I’m… sorry. But—” Tears sprang from her eyes, dripped down her cheeks, but she didn’t wipe them away. “I had reasons. I… I should explain. So you’ll understand why I made the decision I did.”

This wasn’t about forgiveness. In truth, it would probably be best if Seth never forgave her. She needed to keep as much distance between them as possible, and if he disliked her, doing so would be a heck of a lot easier.

She had no need for a man in her life. Especially a man who made everything inside of her melt when she so much as glanced in his direction. She’d felt the same for Jesse. Who’d then served their country and left her with a hole in her heart that had yet to completely heal.

Seth Foster was far too much of a risk. A military man through and through, he’d already committed himself to his job and, like Jesse, to their country. Getting too close to him spelled danger and possible heartache. For both her and her daughter.

“I will explain,” she said again. “And then we can figure out the rest.”

“I’m not interested in explanations.” Seth swallowed hard enough that his Adam’s apple jerked in his throat. “My only concern is fixing this.”

Shivers of foreboding trailed down Rebecca’s spine. “How do you expect us to do that?”

His eyes, now so dark they were pools of black, locked on to hers. In one fluid motion, he dropped to his knees and pulled a small jewelry box out of his pocket.

Allison half squealed, half gasped from her place next to Rebecca.

Jocelyn whispered, “Oh, my God.”

Rebecca slouched against her mother, needing the support. “Wh-what are you d-doing?” she stammered. “Because it can’t be what I think you’re doing.”

“It seems that you and I are having a baby.” Seth spoke calmly enough, but Rebecca heard the weight of his determination in each and every word. Her apprehension increased. “The appropriate action to this type of dilemma is a wedding.”

“A wedding?” Rebecca blinked. “You’re ordering me to marry you? Is this a joke?”

“I don’t joke about my family.” Seth opened the velvet box. The diamond ring sparkled in the afternoon light. “Go pack your bags, Becca. We’re driving to Vegas.”

This, Rebecca decided, was—at once—the most surreal and ludicrous moment of her life. “Wow. I am in awe of your romantic proposal. But I think I’ll have to decline.”

“Perhaps,” Seth said with the faintest edge of disappointment, “I’d feel more romantic if you’d been honest with me from the start. You chose another path, so this will have to do well enough. I’m sure you can understand.”

“What I understand is that you’ve lost your mind. Get up, Seth.” Goose bumps dotted Rebecca’s arms and she found it difficult to breathe. “Let me be very clear in this. I am not driving to Vegas with you. I am not marrying you. Not now. Not ever.”

“There isn’t any point in arguing, Becca.” Seth stood and pressed the ring box into her hands. The heat of his touch swept through her, electrifying every cell in her body. “One way or another, we are doing this. Tonight.”

Seth’s heart stuttered in surprised relief when Rebecca’s hand squeezed around the ring box. Nothing had gone as planned. His goals had been simple: remain calm, extract the truth and once she admitted he was the father, convince her that the only logical action was to marry him.

That plan disintegrated the second she opened the door. Time seemed to stop as her crystalline blue-green eyes widened in shock, as one hand came to rest on her basketball-shaped stomach and the other smoothed her chin-length, strawberry-blond hair.

She looked different than he remembered. The contours of her oval-shaped face were softer, rounder. There were now freckles scattered along her nose, cheeks and forehead. Purplish smudges covered the fragile area beneath her eyes. He fleetingly wondered if she was getting enough sleep or if there was cause for concern. And the square-necked, summery dress she wore—a long, flowing concoction of brown and cream—highlighted not only the impressive swell of her stomach, but her decidedly fuller breasts.

The lithe, petite woman he’d spent the weekend with close to eight months ago was gone, replaced by a swollen, puffed-up version of that same woman. But somehow, and damn if he could explain it, she was radiant. And beautiful in such a refreshing, real way that it stole Seth’s ability to think, to reason, to behave in an expected manner.

A rush of contradictory emotions took control, overriding all else. How could he be disillusioned and angry by her behavior, yet still want to protect her. Care for her, even?

Unable to comprehend how such opposing factors could exist at the same time, his carefully thought-out plan fell to the wayside. Instead, he’d reacted with the instinctive, primal urge of a caveman, his only objective to claim what was his.

No. Nothing had gone as planned, but somehow, he’d managed to succeed. He glanced at Rebecca’s fingers, which were still wrapped securely around the jewelry box, and the tight, frantic pressure in his chest evaporated. The pumped-up caveman inside went back into hiding.

Seth’s sanity returned.

“This is logical, Rebecca.” He attempted a smile. Unfortunately, his lips refused to budge from the severe, straight line he’d imposed on them earlier. He settled for nodding toward the house. “So if you’ll go get your things, we can be off.”

Those gorgeous green-blue eyes of hers narrowed into slits, giving him the impression of a cat about to pounce. That didn’t bode well. Tilting her head downward, she looked at the ring he’d purchased that morning. A simple solitaire that had seemed the perfect choice.

“If it doesn’t fit, we can have it resized,” he offered. “Or if you’d like to exchange it for another ring, that’s fine with me. Whatever you want.”

She pried the ring out of its box with the tip of her pinkie finger, wrinkled her nose as if the diamond had a rank odor and then tossed the ring into the prickly, thorny rosebushes that framed her front porch. The box quickly followed the same path.

With that, she turned on her heel and escaped into the house, leaving him alone with her sister and mother. Both of whom looked ready to kill first and ask questions later.

Tossing a wary glance toward Allison and Jocelyn, he said, “That… ah… didn’t go nearly as well as I’d hoped.”

“Brilliant deduction, Sherlock,” Jocelyn said, not bothering to hide her sarcasm. “Did you really think she’d run off and marry you because you told her to?”

“Jocelyn, don’t,” Allison said quietly. “Go inside and take care of your sister. Keep the baby shower going, and it would probably be best if we kept this quiet for the moment.”

“My guess is it’s too late for that, but I’ll do what I can.” Jocelyn touched her mother’s shoulder lightly. “What are you doing? Rebecca wouldn’t want you talking to him.”

“I’m going to help this young man find his ring.” Allison patted her daughter’s hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll be along shortly.”

Jocelyn let out a sigh before trailing in Rebecca’s footsteps. Seth peered in after her, hoping to catch sight of Rebecca. No such luck.

He considered following her. Surely, given enough time, he could convince Rebecca to talk with him. Except Allison had said they were in the midst of a baby shower. Baby showers meant female guests. Females who were family members and friends of Rebecca, and therefore, would likely view him as the enemy.

And hell, he’d rather drop down into a pit of poisonous snakes than take his chances with a houseful of protective females.

“I wouldn’t go in there,” Allison said, as if she’d read his thoughts. “Those women have been forced to sit in a crowded room playing far too many baby shower games without a drop of alcohol to dull their senses. They’re high on sugar, low on patience and will view you as the perfect outlet for all of their pent-up energy.”

Yeah, poisonous snakes sounded considerably safer. Friendlier, too.

Giving Allison what he hoped was an irresistible grin, he said, “Perhaps you could bring Rebecca to me?”

His smile apparently missed the mark, because after bestowing him with what could only be described as a pitying glance, Allison stepped outside and closed the door firmly behind her. “How well do you know my daughter, Mr….?”

“Foster,” he filled in, working hard not to snap. “But please, call me Seth. And seeing as your daughter tried to keep me from being a part of my child’s life, not as well as I thought.”

“I have two thoughts on that, one of which I won’t share because it isn’t my place.” Allison moved around him to sit on the top porch step. “The other, however, concerns me.”

“And that would be what?” Could he have screwed this up more? Doubtful. As angry as he was with Rebecca, he was equally so with himself. Losing control was unacceptable.

Allison gestured for him to join her. Once he had, she asked, “Are you a good man?”

A blunt question. Even in his current state, he could appreciate that. “A bad man who desired your approval would assure you that he was good and decent. A good man, having nothing to hide, would do the same. So, no matter how I answer, you’ll remain unsure.”

“True, but that’s the case with anything I might ask.” Allison folded her hands on her lap. “For the moment, I’ll trust your answer. Are you a good man?”

“I don’t think people can be so easily defined.”

“It’s a simple question.”

“Not really, but I’ll play along.” The need to do something coiled tightly in Seth’s muscles. This conversation might prove important, but sitting here when Rebecca was hiding made it impossible to concentrate. “I love my family, respect my elders. I’ve never cheated on a woman and I can’t imagine ever doing so. I don’t kick puppies, kittens or any other small, furry animal. But I’m not a saint. I’m not perfect.”

“I see.” A faint smile appeared on Allison’s lips. “What about your mother?”

“As far as I know, she isn’t in the habit of kicking small, furry animals, either.”

Allison laughed softly. “That’s a relief. I’d hate to think of my grandchild’s other grandmother being cruel to small animals.”

That brought Seth up short. He hadn’t considered what the existence of this child would mean to his family. He hadn’t told his parents anything as of yet, because it seemed pertinent to first ascertain that Rebecca’s baby was also his baby.

His anger, which had begun to fade, ramped up. Rebecca hadn’t only tried to keep his child away from him, but from his entire family. His parents had already lost one grandchild. If Rebecca’s deception had been successful, they would’ve lost this grandchild, as well.

Another layer of pressure came to rest on Seth’s shoulders.

“I meant to ask,” Allison said, her voice pulling him out of his thoughts, “about your relationship with your mother. How would you define that?”

“Normal, I suppose.” A sidelong glance showed Allison arching a brow. With a semi-aggravated sigh, Seth expanded, “My mother is nosy, stubborn and overprotective. Clichéd, perhaps, but she’s also the glue that holds my family together. And I couldn’t love her more.”

“Good answer.” Allison pivoted to face him. A myriad of emotions darted over her before she finally said, “You should know that a mother’s love for her children is unyielding. As a mother, I will do anything to protect my daughters from pain. Anything.”

“Of course you would. My mother would say the same.” Heavy frustration pooled and settled in his already twisting stomach. “As would my father. I have a right to know my child.”

“You probably do,” she conceded.

“Not probably. Without question, I have the same rights that Rebecca does.” This was getting him nowhere. “Look, I need to talk to Rebecca again. Maybe I didn’t handle things so well, but she can’t lock me out because of that.”

Antsy, he started to stand when Allison grasped his arm. “Listen to me, Seth. I will talk to Rebecca, but for now, I think you should go home.”

Like mother like daughter. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Because I know my daughter,” Allison continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “I know she’ll need time to process your arrival and the decisions she’s made. If you push her even another inch right now, she won’t react well.”

“I’m not overly concerned about the time she’ll need to process anything. Sorry, but—”

“Rebecca is far enough along that undue stress could push her into early labor,” Allison said, her voice bloodletting sharp. “Your baby is viable, but small. Why take an unnecessary risk? Give Rebecca some time.”

“How much time?” he ground out.

“Oh, I expect a few days should be more than enough.”

“And if she decides to disappear on me? She has to know I can’t stay in Portland forever.” God. Leaving now, even if Allison’s argument was valid, seemed unthinkable.

“She won’t.”

“She might.”

Allison stood and shoved her hands into the loose pockets of her skirt. “No, Seth. But if it will make you feel more comfortable, my phone number is listed.”

“That helps,” he begrudgingly admitted. A few days. How hard could that be? He needed to regroup, anyway. Figure out what his next steps were. “I’ll leave. But this is only temporary. My child will know me.”

“If I’m right about you, then I agree.” Allison straightened her shoulders and gave him the cat-about-to-pounce look he’d seen from Rebecca. “But if I’m wrong, then I’ll stand beside my daughter and fight you every step of the way.”

“And I’ll fight back.” He started toward his car, thankful he always drove the distance between his apartment in Tacoma, Washington and his parents’ house. Under normal conditions, the drive took less than three hours. Well worth it to have his own transportation at his disposal.

“Seth?” Allison called after him. “What about your ring?”

Pausing, he pivoted. Gave it some thought and grinned. “Let it be. If I know Rebecca at all, she won’t be able to leave a diamond ring in her rosebushes.”

Soft laughter met his ears. “I’d say you know her pretty well.” Allison lifted her hand in a small wave before slipping inside the white Cape Cod–style home that Rebecca lived in.

In his car, Seth closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He was going to be a father. Rather soon, at that. And he only had six weeks to get everything in order. No. Not even that. He was due back at McChord Air Force Base in three weeks and six days.

He’d have to work fast.

Chapter Three

Rebecca broke her concentration from a client’s financial statements to reach into her desk for her bottle of antacids. Heartburn, along with swollen ankles and sleepless nights, seemed to be a constant nowadays—though her recent bout with insomnia likely had as much to do with seeing Seth on Saturday as it did her daughter’s nightly bursts of activity.

After chomping down the chalky-tasting tablets, Rebecca rinsed her mouth with a generous swallow from her water bottle. Unease cooled the back of her neck. Today was Tuesday. Three days had passed since her baby shower, and not one sign of Seth. What was he up to? Who was he talking to? And when would he bulldoze into her life again?

Now that the cat was out of the bag, so to speak, Rebecca preferred to get the forthcoming confrontation out of the way sooner rather than later. A long shudder of emotion rippled through her. As her mother, her best friend and even her sister had pointed out once they’d heard all of Rebecca’s explanations, not telling Seth about the baby had been a serious error in judgment. Well, she’d known she was playing with fire all along, hadn’t she?

Yes.

But what she couldn’t seem to get across, no matter what words she’d used, was that she felt as if she had no other choice. Every time she’d considered writing Seth that letter, choking fear would settle in and suffocate her until she couldn’t breathe. Her heart would race, her skin would grow clammy and her hands would visibly shake.

Ultimately, she couldn’t move beyond her panic to do what was right.

Seth knew the truth now; there was no getting away from that. She had to believe that as long as she didn’t attempt to put up any additional roadblocks, he’d be content to be a distant part of their child’s life. He had a career that demanded a great deal of his attention and time. A career he loved. Based on their correspondence, a career he had no intention of ever giving up.

All of the same reasons that fueled her fear might also work to her advantage. Yes, she’d worried when faced with Seth’s anger that he might try to take her daughter away. In reality, Seth’s life made it doubtful that he’d go for full custody. He didn’t live in Portland. In all likelihood, his visits would be sporadic and, except for longer leaves here and there, short. Her chances of dealing with him more than four or five times per year seemed extraordinarily low.

Rebecca took another sip of her water, feeling calmer than she had in days. Once she and Seth spoke again, she’d be able to set the remainder of her worries aside. She’d apologize and assure him that she wouldn’t stand in his way of being a father. Then, all she’d have to do was let Seth’s commitment to his job take him back to the Air Force and away from her.

A low knock sounded on her door. Knowing that a client would’ve been announced before being sent to her office, she called out, “Come on in.”

Alan Sloop, the managing partner at Anders, Weinstein and Sloop, PC, stepped inside and immediately yanked his vision upward. Rebecca smothered a laugh. Poor Alan’s discomfort around her had grown at the same rate as her expanding waistline.

She didn’t understand his nervousness, but Alan was a good boss. Scooting herself as close to her desk as she could—to minimize how much belly showed—she nodded toward a chair. “Perfect timing. I was just thinking I could use a break.”

Alan settled his spare, bony frame in a chair. “I wanted to talk with you about what your plans are in the coming weeks. Your due date is approaching and the partners thought you might like to make the switch to working half days soon.”

“I appreciate the offer.” She would love a reduced work schedule—afternoon naps would be pure heaven—but the longer she held on to her entire salary, the better. “However, as we discussed last month, I’ve decided to maintain my full-time schedule until the baby is born.”

“You’re an important part of this firm, Rebecca.” Alan ran his hand over his receding hairline. “We very much want you to return to us when you’re ready.”

“I’m planning on returning,” Rebecca assured him.

“That’s good to hear. I’m sure you know that Mr. Anders is set on retiring next year,” Alan said, blinking rapidly behind his round glasses. “After your… er… maternity leave, we’d like to discuss your future with us, including the possibility of partnership.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t expected that. Not yet, anyway. “I would love to discuss the possibility. Becoming partner has always been a goal of mine.”

“I thought as much. We’d like to support you as much as we can, since you aren’t… don’t have—” Bright red splotches appeared on Alan’s cheeks. “If you were to drop to half days for the last month of your pregnancy, we, of course, will continue paying your salary as normal.”

Stunned, she gave herself a minute to let her boss’s words sink in. She thought about arguing. Being pregnant did not mean she was an invalid, after all. Plenty of women worked full, busy schedules throughout their entire pregnancies. She was capable of doing the same. But the carrot that Alan dangled beckoned to her.

It would be nice to have her afternoons free. She could catch up on lost sleep, finish reading the half-dozen baby books she’d started and complete her preparations for her daughter’s arrival. Heck, she hadn’t even begun childproofing yet!

“Yes,” she said, grabbing for the carrot. “I really appreciate the generosity.”

“Good. That’s settled.” Alan rose to his feet. “Let’s get together next week to go over your current workload, so we can decide how to best manage your clients’ needs. But what’s most important,” he said with a little cough, “is that you know your place here is secure.”

Her wonky hormones kicked in, so she dipped her head to hide her watery eyes. “I’m sure you know that means a lot to me. Thank you, Alan.”

“You’re welcome.” Alan offered her a brief smile. “I have an appointment to prepare for. You’ll let me know if you need anything?”

She nodded in response. Wow. She’d hoped to be considered for partnership someday, but hadn’t thought that a possibility for years. A sigh slipped out, followed by a yawn. Rebecca closed her eyes and leaned her head against her chair. Mercy, she was tired.

She might have done the unthinkable and drifted off given a few more minutes when her telephone beeped. “Rebecca?” the receptionist said through the line. “There’s a Jace Foster here. He says he doesn’t have an appointment but hopes you’ll see him.”

That woke Rebecca up in a hurry. “Is he alone?” she asked. “Or is there another… ah… gentleman with him?”

“He’s alone,” the receptionist confirmed. “Shall I bring him back or would you prefer if I set up an appointment?”

Why would Jace be here without Seth? “I’ll see him.”

Struggling to quell her sudden queasiness, Rebecca swallowed another mouthful of water. She’d only met Jace that one time, back in January. While she hadn’t out-and-out lied to him then, she also hadn’t been honest. He was probably here to confront her.

The receptionist knocked on, and then opened, her office door. Jace entered the room, his six-foot-plus frame dwarfing the already small space. Again, Rebecca was taken aback by the man’s resemblance to Seth.

He was, maybe, a fraction shorter than Seth, but shared the same eye color, bone structure and broad-shouldered physique as his younger brother. While Seth’s black hair was cropped close to his head, Jace wore his in a longer, shaggier style that spoke of a more relaxed, kicked-back way of life. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Jace was the younger brother.

“Hey, Rebecca,” Jace said without meeting her eyes. He shoved his thumbs into his jean pockets. “I’m guessing you remember me.”

“Of course.” Gratified that she sounded cool and calm, she gestured toward the chairs flanking her desk. “Please, sit down. I’m curious what brings you here.”

He stepped toward the chairs, stopped, glanced between them and the door as if speculating how fast he’d be able to make an escape. “Maybe I should stand. What I have to say won’t take long, and… um… you might feel the urge to do bodily harm when I’m finished.”

“I already know you told Seth I’m pregnant,” she said in the same cool voice as before. “I can’t really be angry with you for protecting your brother. Please sit. You’ll make me nervous if you continue to lurk.”

For a nanosecond, she thought he was going to argue. In the end, he gave a loose-limbed shrug and dropped into one of the chairs. “I should probably get right to the point, but first, I need you to promise that you’ll hear me out.”

Confused and somewhat alarmed, Rebecca pushed a wayward strand of hair off her cheek. “Go on. I’m listening.”

“Well, it’s like this.” Jace squirmed. “When I guessed you were likely pregnant, and that there was a chance Seth was the father, I made a decision. I wanted to… be kept aware of how you were doing and if you needed anything. I wanted to be there for you in Seth’s absence.”

“That’s nice,” she admitted cautiously. “Especially given the circumstances.”

“Exactly! I didn’t think you’d willingly approach me with a problem, but I had to do something,” Jace said with a small cough. “Being a journalist, I have… contacts who help me when I require information. A fee is usually involved.”

“A fee?” She added two plus two. “Are you saying what I think you are?”

Jace gripped the arms of his chair. “You have a client by the name of Victor Tosh.”

“Victor is a private investigator.” Oh, hell no. Yeah, bodily harm sounded pretty dang good at the moment. “You hired him to hire me? To do what… report back to you?”

“Well, yes. Because you were important to Seth and that made you important to me. But it isn’t as bad as it sounds.” Jace spoke so fast, his words blurred into each other. “Vic didn’t conduct any background searches and he didn’t poke into your private life.”

She counted to three. “So what did he do?”

“Confirmed you were pregnant once that became obvious. Kept me updated on your well-being, if you seemed healthy—which you always did,” Jace explained, still speaking fast. “That was about the extent of it, I swear. But it’s important for you to understand—”

“I think you should leave.” Anger, hot and fierce, roared in. “Before I let my hormones take control and I throw something at your head.”

Naturally, she wouldn’t. But he didn’t have to know that.

“Not yet.” Jace smiled a smile that had probably gotten him out of hot water with plenty of women, plenty of times. Too bad for him that it didn’t work on her. “You promised to listen.”

Rebecca’s gaze landed on her stapler. It was an old-fashioned, metal stapler. Large and heavy. She picked it up, tried to replicate Jace’s smile, and said, “Talk fast.”

Still reeling from Jace’s admission, Rebecca took her time driving home. While she wasn’t happy with what had happened, she recognized that some of the fault rested on her shoulders. If not for her actions, Jace might not have gone to the extent of hiring a private investigator. Equally important: he was her daughter’s uncle.

Unlike Seth, Jace did live in Portland. Chances were she’d see him far more often than she’d see Seth. So even though it felt an awful lot like caving, she’d accepted Jace’s apology.

Good and steamed, she waited a full hour after Jace left to contact Victor, who didn’t offer her an apology. That didn’t surprise her. The guy was only doing his job. He sounded contrite, though, and wanted her to continue on as his accountant. She agreed only after he promised to never, under any circumstance, “spy” on her again.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t annoyed by the whole mess.

Within minutes of arriving home, Rebecca changed into a pair of stretchy black maternity pants and an oversize yellow T-shirt. Deciding that a walk was the perfect way to burn off the remnants of her temper and get some exercise, she grabbed her sneakers from the closet.

Only to discover that she—a twenty-nine-year-old woman—had lost the ability to tie her own shoes. Or rather, she could no longer reach her shoes when they were where they were supposed to be—on her feet. The realization momentarily stunned her.

Surely, she’d tied these very same shoes less than a week ago, hadn’t she?

Unwilling to give up on the idea of her walk, Rebecca crouched down and reached for her right shoe… and immediately lost her balance and toppled to the right.

Great. Pregnancy had turned her into a human Weeble. Except, unlike the toy, she could and would fall if she wasn’t careful.

She tried her aerobic step next. Raising it to its highest level, she pressed her bottom against the living-room wall, planted one foot on the step, leaned forward and, once again, nearly fell on her face. Fine, then. She’d go about it a different way.

Rebecca kicked off her sneakers, tied each of them into loose bows, dropped them to the floor and slipped her feet into them. Feeling absolutely victorious, she let herself out of the house into the beautiful afternoon. The still-shining sun warmed her face and the crisp scent of rain lingered in the air, left over from that morning’s unexpected downpour.

No way was she ruining the loveliness of the day or her walk by thinking of the Foster men, their oversize egos or the diamond ring that resided somewhere in her rosebushes.

Though that last one was harder. Every time she left and entered her house, she had to stop herself from searching the prickly bushes. And okay, she probably shouldn’t have tossed the ring. Even if Seth’s commanding, I’m-in-charge attitude had ticked her off.

But leaving something so valuable in a place where anyone—her mailman, a solicitor, anyone—could find and walk off with it rattled her. It shouldn’t. Seth obviously didn’t care, so why should she? Yet, for whatever reason, she did.

Rebecca swept a cursory glance over the bush as she descended the front porch stairs. Nothing sparkly jumped out at her, so she continued.

It was a beautiful ring. Simple and elegant, with a traditional princess-cut diamond—not too large, not too small—set in a wide band of shimmering white gold. It was as if Seth had glimpsed into her dreams and chosen the exact right ring for her, which was about as absurd as his proposal. They certainly hadn’t chatted about her sense of style during their weekend.

A hot flush stole over her cheeks as she turned right on the sidewalk in front of her house. The memory of the woman she was that weekend continued to stun her.

Maybe it shouldn’t. Seth’s letters piqued her curiosity about the man behind them almost as soon as they began writing. And Lord, how she’d looked forward to receiving those letters. To answering them. And while she hadn’t told him about Jesse, she had shared more personal details of her life than she had with any of the other people she corresponded with.

Doing so had seemed natural.

And when she’d finally spoken with Seth on the phone, her pulse had jumped and her palms had grown sweaty, as if she were sixteen and the high-school quarterback had asked her to prom. The sound of Seth’s voice had filled her with elation.

She’d tried to resist the need to meet him, but curiosity and a hunger to see his face won out over practicality. When she walked into the café they’d agreed on, his dark-eyed gaze landed on her and a triple-shot of energy, of intense recognition, turned her stomach on its side.

No, she shouldn’t be stunned by the woman she was that weekend. But that didn’t mean she had to make sense of it. What happened, happened.

Keeping her pace leisurely, Rebecca headed toward the elementary school that was located three blocks south from her house. Her daughter would attend that school someday. Most days, Rebecca would probably drop her off on her way into work. But every now and then, they might walk hand in hand down the same path Rebecca was now walking.

The tightness in her muscles relaxed as she continued, and within a block, her mind cleared. Her hand came to rest on her stomach and when she crossed the street, her thoughts turned to possible names.

Emily, maybe. She liked Sarah and Hannah, as well. Would Seth want input on their daughter’s name? Dumb question. Of course he would. Knowing her luck, he’d favor something obscure and untraditional, like the sometimes odd names celebrities chose for their children.

Her stomach tightened with a Braxton Hicks contraction. Any type of physical exercise tended to bring them on, but her doctor said they were harmless. Rebecca paused, let the contraction pass and then started forward again. She’d only taken a few more steps when a far-too-familiar form fell into stride next to her.

Her heart leaped and blood rushed to her head. Seth.

“What are you doing here?” she asked without slowing down, somewhat dazed she hadn’t sensed his approach. “As of today, I know you know where I work, so don’t give me the excuse that you couldn’t call to set up a meeting.”

“Actually, I did call,” he said in that resonant, severe, sexy voice that made her feel like a cat being taunted with a bowlful of cream. “But alas, you’d already left for the day.”

“And you decided another surprise visit would somehow be a good idea?”

“It’s been several days, Becca. You can’t expect me to wait forever.”

Breathing in through her nose, she stopped and faced him. Dressed in khakis and a casual, short-sleeved royal blue shirt, he shouldn’t have held the same austere, commanding presence that he had on Saturday in his dress blues. But somehow, he did. Her eyes slid down the length of him before embarrassment dragged them back up. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Do you?” he asked in a humor-drenched voice. “Please fill me in. What am I doing?”

“You’re trying to keep me in a perpetual state of… of—” Dang it! What was the word she wanted. Unable to find it or deal with his self-satisfied smirk, she settled for, “Weakness. Strike when the enemy is least prepared, right?”

“I don’t consider you my enemy, Rebecca. But yes, surprise is a method often employed to achieve the upper hand in most types of negotiations.” Shadows, dark and searching, entered his eyes, his expression. “We both know what Saturday was about. I’d rather not waste additional minutes backtracking over already-covered ground.”

“Agreed. As long as you understand I’m not accepting your proposal.”

“That would be called backtracking, as you made that quite clear three days ago.”

She couldn’t decide if he was up to something or simply trying to put her at ease. Raising her chin, she said in a bore-no-room-for-argument tone, “I won’t change my mind.”

“Understood.” Seth reached out to touch her, but pulled back. “You look upset. I’ve heard that stress can sometimes cause problems during pregnancy. My goal isn’t to upset you.”

“I’m fine and so is the baby.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “We’re okay.”

Relief eased the furrows that etched his brow. He bent slightly at the waist, as if he were a gentleman from a long-ago time and she his lady, and held out his hand. “Shall we continue with your walk then?”

Because the idea of walking side by side with Seth was so very appealing, she pointed to the school a few blocks up. “I’m going there. Then, I’ll go home. Why don’t you wait on my porch and let me finish my walk in peace. We can talk when I get back.”

“I’d rather stay with you.”

“I won’t be long and you… you can spend the time searching for your ring.”

One corner of his mouth quirked in a delicious sort of half smile. “Drives you crazy that I left the ring there, doesn’t it?”

“Not crazy. I happen to think it’s… senseless.”

“It’s a valuable ring,” Seth said with less concern than he might show for a lost quarter. “Someone could find it… probably resell it for a decent amount. Finders keepers, I guess.”

“Exactly. Which is why you should locate the dang ring.”

“I find I’m… content knowing the ring is on your property. So, Rebecca,” he said, lifting his fingers to flutter gently in her hair. “If you really want to return your engagement ring, you’ll have to conduct your own search.”

Her breath caught at his touch, at the tingles of pleasure that teased and bobbed along her skin so effortlessly. “Your ring,” she said in a husky whisper. “I never accepted it.”

“But you did, sweetheart. I have vivid recall of that moment.”

She pulled out of his hold, fast, before she did something utterly stupid and kissed him. Because yes, that was exactly what her traitorous body craved. Nothing but hormones. “I can claim what was in my head far more accurately than you can. And I did not accept your ring.”

“Hmm. I suppose we’ll have to agree to disagree.” Seth captured her hand in his. “Let’s finish our walk before it gets dark. Have you eaten dinner yet?”

“Um… no. I thought I’d make dinner later.” Without thinking, she matched her stride to Seth’s when he took off toward the school. “Sandwiches and fresh fruit. Nothing special, but enough for two. If you’re hungry, that is. Since we have to talk, anyway.”

Gracious. Now she was blabbering.

“That sounds good.” Seth’s thumb traced an invisible circle on the outside of her hand. “Maybe we can go out for ice cream after.”

“Maybe.”

Seth continued to absently rub his thumb in that lazy, circular motion. Warmth followed his touch, wherever skin met skin, until she’d have sworn a circle of fire had been branded on her hand. She wasn’t supposed to be doing this—holding hands with Seth, taking an evening stroll together and talking about what their plans were for the evening.

This was not what she wanted.

They reached the sidewalk that ran alongside the school. Nodding toward the benches on the far side of the playground, she said, “Let’s stop here for a minute. I’m a little tired.”

Seth’s hold on her hand tightened. “You’re feeling okay, though?”

“Yes, Seth. Nothing’s wrong that a few minutes off my feet won’t cure.”

“We should have turned back sooner,” was his gruff response. But he led her to the benches, and once there, waited for her to sit before taking the spot next to her. “Is it normal to tire after a few blocks of walking? Should I be worried?”

“It is normal, and no, you shouldn’t worry.” Deciding to poke a stick into the cage to see if she could wake the bear, she said, “You don’t seem angry with me anymore. Why is that?”

“I’ve calmed down,” he said in a quiet, if terse, timbre. “Remaining angry at something that can’t be changed is useless. I’d rather move forward.”

“Forward how?” One breath in, another out. “I’m confused by your change in behavior. What’s your plan here?”

“I thought we’d finish our walk, have some dinner, engage in a little conversation and maybe go out for ice cream,” he said easily. Convincingly. “I thought we’d established that.”

“What about tomorrow, or the next day, or the one after that?”

Stretching out his legs, he said, “We’ll figure that out tomorrow, and the next day, and the one after that.”

Had she ever met such a confusing man? Rebecca didn’t think so. Actually, she’d be willing to bet she hadn’t, and she hated games of chance. “Thanks for clearing that up.”

“No problem.” Suddenly, he tipped his head to the right while his gaze shifted away from hers. He scooted off the bench, and before her brain could piece together his movements, Seth Foster was, once again, kneeling in front of her.

“No! No way.” Thumpa-thumpa-thumpa went her heart. “I told you earlier that I am not accepting your proposal. Ever. This isn’t the 1800s, or even the 1950s. A woman can remain single and have a baby. It happens all the time now.” She started to pull herself up, which frankly, wasn’t that easy of a task, when Seth’s hand grasped her foot.

“Relax, Rebecca. I’m not proposing. Though, it bears saying that your repeated and emphatic refusals are beginning to wear on me.” He sighed the sigh of a hurt man. She didn’t buy it for a second. “I do have some pride, you know.”

Not proposing? “But you’re kneeling.”

“I am.” He tugged at the laces on her left sneaker. “I’m tying your shoe, before you fall and I have to spend the night pacing in the hospital, worrying if you and our baby are okay.”

“Oh.” She took that in and shrugged in feigned indifference. “Well, then. Go ahead.”

“Besides which,” he said in an irritatingly cheerful manner, “You’ll be proposing to me soon enough. And when you do, Rebecca, I promise you that I will say yes.”

Chapter Four

Seth plugged the address he’d written down that morning into his GPS and put the car into drive. Mild temperatures, lush greenery and a dynamite view of Mount Hood on a clear day—like today—made Portland in June a beautiful place to be.

He’d loved growing up here. If he’d chosen a different career, he’d likely never have left—though the fact he piloted C-17s kept him relatively close to home, as he was based a few miles outside of Tacoma at McChord AFB. When he wasn’t deployed or away on an overseas mission, visiting his family on a somewhat regular basis hadn’t proved problematic.

Stopping at a red light, Seth rolled down his window. Air, fresh and clean and vibrant with the city’s afternoon energy, filled his lungs. Yes, he loved this city. Even so, chances were good he’d never live here again. He’d known for a good portion of his life that he was built for the Air Force. This surety had less to do with wanting to fly—though that need ran hard and deep in his blood—than it did with what the Air Force represented.

His desire to have an active role in the protection, stability and growth of the United States of America drove him day in and day out. Some would describe his unwavering commitment as a calling, and perhaps they were right. Seth could no sooner walk away from that aspect of his life, of who he was, than he could his own child.

A possible quandary, given his current predicament.

That reason alone made it worthwhile to keep moving forward. He’d screwed up his initial plan of using calm, reasonable logic to convince Rebecca to marry him the second he allowed his anger—justified as it might be—to get the better of him.

As much as he despised the possibility of being a part-time dad, he gave the idea due consideration. Yes, he’d see his kid whenever he came to Portland. Later on, the child could visit him. If given no other choice, he could and would make the setup work. But every cell in his body resisted the notion. He wanted more. His child deserved more.

Perhaps he was being overly idealistic, but he still felt marrying Rebecca made the most sense. His new plan was to show her that he was good father and husband material until she reached the same conclusion he had and proposed to him. A long shot for sure, but he had to try.

Seth tightened his grip on the steering wheel when the burn of his earlier anger resurfaced. Eventually, he’d have to make peace with that anger, with what Rebecca tried to do. But not yet. Smarter, for now, to focus on concrete goals. He’d once seen the possibility of a future with Rebecca. It wasn’t such a reach to bring that future back into view.

The female, robotic-sounding GPS voice told him to prepare for an upcoming left-hand turn. He did, and as he continued toward his destination, he tried not to feel too optimistic. It was still early days, and last night technically couldn’t be called a victory.

Even so, Seth had spent almost an entire evening with Rebecca without once being asked to leave. His stomach did an unmanly flip-flop when he recalled the sultry-eyed, begging-to-be-kissed look she’d given him. The same look that haunted his memories.

Maybe he could allow himself a minute amount of optimism. Cautious, in-no-way-was-the-war-won optimism. Next time, he might even take her up on that look.

Seth pulled his car into the driveway of a well-kept house in one of Portland’s higher-income neighborhoods. The Carmichael family home was a two-story Colonial that boasted symmetrical lines, shuttered windows and a squared-in porch surrounded by pillars. A large willow tree graced the front yard, along with various types of neatly trimmed shrubbery.

Unless he’d completely misconstrued Allison Carmichael’s voice when they’d spoken that morning, she hadn’t been surprised to hear from him. She’d been relieved. He hoped that was the case. It would make gaining her assistance that much easier.

The bright red-painted door swished open seconds before he raised his fist to knock, but not by Rebecca’s mother. Ah, hell. He hadn’t considered that the wild-eyed, fit-to-be-tied, acid-tongued sister would be in residence. Based on the tight-lipped scowl currently decorating Jocelyn’s face, he guessed she was as unhappy to see him as he her.

He reminded himself that he’d fought much tougher foes than a five-foot, one-hundred-pound, overprotective urchin of a girl. Perhaps this particular urchin caused him greater concern than any mission he’d ever undertaken, but she wasn’t going to derail his plans.

“Jocelyn,” he said in greeting. “I believe your mother is expecting me.”

Flashing green eyes narrowed. Her denim-covered hip jutted to the right as her arms crossed over her purple, pink-and-black tie-dyed tank. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

“Your mother isn’t expecting me?” he asked, deadpan. “I can come back later. When won’t you be home?”

The barest hint of a grin surfaced. “August.”

“What’s in August?”

“California. Grad school. Going for my MBA,” she said in short, clipped syllables that didn’t mask her excitement.

“Yeah? That’s great. Stanford?”

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