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  Soon Sophie, Libby and Chance joined them at the table, and they spent the rest of the evening together. Chance dashed over to the buffet and brought back a huge slice of apple pie. When Sophie caught sight of it, she went and got some, too, and with the way she moaned over its cinnamon flavor, Tommy wondered if she was having her first pregnancy food craving.

  She offered him a bite but he refused, not wanting to take it away from her and the little peanut he’d planted in her womb.

  * * *

  After the dance, Tommy lay next to Sophie in the guest room they were sharing, staring up at the ceiling. The bed was warm, the covers smooth against his skin. Outside the window, the night sky was sprinkled with stars.

  He leaned onto his elbow, shifting to look at her. “How long will it be before you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

  She turned in his direction. “Between four and five months, I think. I didn’t really talk to my doctor about that. I don’t even have to go back to see him for another six weeks. That’s when my prenatal visits will start.”

  Tommy wouldn’t know anything about that, considering that she’d banned him from going with her. “When are you going to start thinking up names? Are you going to wait until you know if it’s a boy or a girl? Or are you going to start playing with ideas now?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far.”

  He wouldn’t mind if she involved him in the process, but with the way things were going, that seemed doubtful. “It wouldn’t hurt to start making a list.”

  “I suppose I could do that.” She adjusted the covers, loosening them around her body. “Chance’s name certainly suits him, with the whole outlaw thing from your dad’s song.”

  “Chance does seem like a little wilding. Your kid will probably be that way, too, with my blood running through its veins.”

  She placed her hand on her stomach. “I’ll bet it’ll kick up a storm in my belly.”

  He wanted to cover her hand with his, but he kept his paws to himself. “I’ve taken to calling it Peanut.”

  “Really?” She glanced up and smiled. “Oh, that’s so cute.”

  “It’s probably a common nickname, but it’s what jumped into my mind. After the way you devoured that apple pie tonight, maybe I should be calling it Seedling.”

  She laughed. “I did chow down. But gosh, it was good. I’m still partial to Peanut, though.” She paused. “Here’s something I could consider—if it’s a boy, I could use my dad’s name for its middle name, and if it’s a girl, I could use my mom’s.”

  “Sure. Why not?” He appreciated her bouncing her ideas off of him. “That would be a nice way to honor your parents.”

  Her voice turned low, soft and sad. “I wish they were here.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Tommy had been a pallbearer at her father’s funeral. But her mom had always been a bit of a mystery to him. Since she’d died so soon after Sophie was born, he didn’t really know much about her. “Do you think it’ll be okay for you to just have one kid?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Being an only child seems like it would be lonely.”

  “It was a little lonely for me. But I had you to hang out with, so that helped.” She angled her head. “Are you offering to be the donor of my second child, if I ever decided to have another one? Because I thought you were getting a vasectomy after this one is born.”

  “Truthfully, I don’t know what I’m saying or doing or offering. I’m kind of mixed up tonight. I got a little worried while we were at the dance.”

  “About what?”

  “How easily you could shut me out of the kid’s life.” He tried to make sense of the insecurity churning inside him. “But I think some of this might be coming from how it hurts that you don’t want me going to the doctor with you.”

  “I already explained why—”

  “I know. But it just makes me realize how much control you have over this situation. It even feels like a blow to our friendship, and since us being friends is my only connection to the child, it makes me being the donor more difficult, too.”

  “I don’t mean to make you feel that way.” She hesitated, closing her eyes, keeping them tightly shut. A second later, she opened them and said, “I’m just trying to cope with everything, too.”

  Of course she was, he thought. This was a whole new experience for her, as well. “Don’t worry about it, Soph. I shouldn’t have even brought it up. We came here to have a nice getaway, and I’m ruining it.” He reached for her. “Just forget I said anything.”

  She nuzzled against him. “You’re still my friend, Tommy.” She trailed a hand down his body, her touch sensuously familiar. “You’re still my lover, too.”

  That was all the invitation he needed. He rolled on top of her, kissing her, tasting the heat of her lips. She sighed, and he lifted the hem of her nightgown. It was a delicate garment, as white as a wedding gown and just as lacy.

  Before he thought too deeply about that, he raised the material even higher. She was bare underneath, and he was already naked.

  She parted her thighs, and he slid between them, getting an immediate sense of belonging. But being inside her always affected him in that way.

  He thrust slowly, his body rocking hers. She whispered something incoherent in his ear. Which was understandable, especially on a scattered night such as this. He’d already created an uncomfortable situation, that was for sure.

  Silent, he focused on making her feel good, sweeping her into a sea of sensation, where nothing else was supposed to matter.

  Except the comfort of sex.

  * * *

  On their last evening at the ranch, Sophie and Tommy went on a hayride in a straw-filled horse-drawn wagon. They were part of a caravan, en route to a campfire and marshmallow roast. They rode with Matt and Libby and Chance, and the boy chattered the entire way.

  Sophie enjoyed listening to him. He was being their tour guide, telling them about the scenery and the colorful glass bottles hanging from the trees. Most of the bottles were blue because Matt was a Cherokee from the “Blue Clan.” It was obvious that Chance was repeating things Matt had told him, but he did it with such love and admiration, it made Sophie smile.

  Libby interjected and said, “The first time I took this ride with Matt, we were alone, just the two of us, and gazing up at the stars. But since neither of us knows much about the constellations, we made up names for them.”

  Sophie could tell that Libby was reminiscing about an early memory with Matt, a night of romance. Or maybe it had been during a time when they’d been longing for love and fighting their feelings for each other.

  Sophie was certainly battling her feelings for Tommy. Nothing had changed in that regard. She stole a jittery glance at him while he was looking the other way. Last night he’d shared his concerns with her, and tonight they were behaving as if that conversation had never happened. But deep inside, she wondered if she should tell him what was troubling her.

  “What did you name the stars?” Chance asked his mother, pulling Sophie back into the night’s festivities and giving her something else to think about.

  “We called some of them tic-tac-toe because they were in the shapes of Xs and Os,” Libby replied.

  Matt piped up and said, “I thought we called them hugs and kisses.” He reached for his fiancée’s hand and gave it a light squeeze.

  She flashed her dimples at him. “Maybe it was a bit of both.” She turned her attention back to her son. “Do you want to name some of them now?”

  “Heck, yeah.” He wiggled in the straw. “Tommy and Sophie can help me. Come on, guys. Let’s give ’em better names than my mom and Matt did. Tic-tac-toe is okay. But hugs and kisses... That’s kind of stupid.”

  Tommy laughed. “You won’t think it’s stupid when you’re older. But let’s give it a go and see what we can do
.” He gazed up at the sky. “I’ve never seen this many stars until I came here, and I’ve been all over the world.”

  Chance scooted closer to him. “Where’s your most favorite place you’ve ever been?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve enjoyed them all. But there is one place I’d like to go that I’ve never been.”

  “Where’s that?” the boy excitedly asked.

  Tommy smiled. “Neverland. Or Never Land or whatever you want to call it.”

  Chance’s eyes went big and round. “Where Peter Pan and Captain Hook and all of them are?”

  Tommy nodded. “Sophie looked like Peter Pan when she was little. She had pixie hair like his. And she was tough and scrappy and boyish.” He winked at her. “Sometimes I even used to call her Pan, and she’d get mad and throw sticks at me, saying that I was more like him because of how boastful I was.” He softened his voice. “We’ve both grown up since then, but Neverland still reminds me of her.”

  While Sophie’s heart skipped a foolishly dreamy beat, Chance roamed his curious gaze over her. Was he trying to picture her the way she’d just been described?

  The child turned back to Tommy and said, “We should name the stars after the people in Peter Pan.”

  “Sure.” Tommy leaned against the back of the wagon, his knees bent in front of him. “That’ll be fun. But from here, they all pretty much look like Tinker Bell.”

  The six-year-old appeared to contemplate that and come to a conclusion. “Then that’s who all of them can be, except the ones we give other names to.” He gazed up at the night sky, an earnest expression on his little face. “That bunch over there can be Captain Hook and his crew. And that one by itself can be the alligator who ate off Hook’s hand.”

  Tommy chuckled. “Well, that sounds gnarly.”

  Sophie meant to laugh, too. But she remained quiet, immersed in watching Tommy and Chance. She glanced over at Matt and Libby. They were watching the scene unfold, too.

  Tommy pointed upward. “Should that group at the very top be Peter Pan and the Lost Boys?”

  Chance followed his line of sight. A second later, he looked at Sophie. “If that’s okay with her, then it’s okay with me.”

  She smiled, touched that he was taking her Pan persona so seriously. “It’s totally fine with me. I think Peter and his friends would like that spot.”

  The boy returned her smile and finished his task by naming a star after Wendy. But hers wasn’t quite as bright. According to his youthful wisdom, Wendy was just a normal girl who was going to grow old. Someday her star would burn out.

  To keep from going sad, Sophie thought about how many Tinker Bell stars were twinkling down on them and wondered if she should make a wish. Or maybe she should just get her head out of the sky and work on staying grounded.

  The wagon bumped along, with Sophie trying not to frown.

  Once they arrived at the campsite, Matt and Tommy helped the ranch attendants build the fires, and Sophie and Libby unpacked the supplies.

  Later, as they sat at their campfire eating s’mores, Chance made a sticky mess, gobbling up the treats and wiping his hands on his pants. He ignored the packages of wet wipes that had been provided. He even dropped one into the dirt.

  After Libby picked up the packet and dusted it off, Matt told a nice story. He revealed that he and Libby had gotten engaged on National S’mores Day and would be getting married on that same day next summer.

  Sophie commented on how “sweet” their wedding was going to be, and everyone else laughed. But she wasn’t laughing herself. As she admired the other couple with their marshmallow-and-chocolate-smeared child tucked between them, she fretted about her feelings for Tommy.

  He leaned over and whispered, “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Hating that she’d gotten caught with a less-than-happy expression, she plastered a smile on her lips. But maybe once they got home, she would give up the fight and tell him what was wrong, and admit how deeply afraid she was of loving him.

  Eleven

  The Texas weekend ended, and on Monday morning Sophie was at work, debating what to do about Tommy. Should she talk to him tonight after dinner? Should she tell him about her struggle?

  Yes, she thought, she should. If she didn’t, her feelings were going to eat her alive. She wished she could leave the office early and just get it over with. She could feign morning sickness, she supposed. So far, she wasn’t having any of those symptoms. But she hated to lie to Barbara and pretend to be ill when she was feeling fine. Or as fine as an anxiety-ridden pregnant woman could be.

  Hours later while Sophie was immersed in paperwork, her cell phone rang. She saw Tommy’s name on the screen and answered it.

  “Soph?” he said right away. “I need to talk to you.”

  She noticed that he sounded upset. “Is everything all right?”

  “No, it’s not. Something happened, but I don’t want to get into it over the phone.”

  She panicked. “Is someone hurt?”

  “It’s nothing like that. It’s just...” He hesitated, blowing a raspy breath into the receiver. “I need for you to come home so we can discuss it in person.”

  “Should I do that right now?” The urgency in his tone worried her, and she was already having issues of her own. This certainly wasn’t helping her anxiety. Whatever was wrong in Tommy’s world sounded serious.

  “Yes, but don’t tell Barbara you’re leaving because I’m freaking out. This is personal, and I don’t want anyone to know besides you. Brandon knows, but he’s my lawyer, so I had to tell him.”

  Sophie couldn’t begin to guess what was going on, especially since Tommy had involved Brandon. “Maybe I can tell Barbara that I’m not feeling well. That I have morning sickness or something.” It was the excuse she’d considered earlier.

  “Sure, that will work. In fact, you can tell her that I called to check up on you, and you told me that you were sick. So I insisted that you come home and rest.”

  Sophie wished that she actually was returning to the mansion to relax. Tommy’s unease was making her tense. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” He paused. “And I’m sorry, Soph. I’m so sorry.”

  Her heart punched against her ribs. Was he apologizing for making her rush home? Or was it the news itself that required an apology?

  They ended the call, and she smoothed her dress, trying to compose herself. She left her office and headed down the hall, to Barbara’s. The door was partially open. She poked in her head, but she knocked, too.

  Barbara glanced up from her computer and waved Sophie inside. At forty-six, she was a hardworking Southern gal who wore her dyed red hair expertly coiffed. She had a truck-driver husband and three teenage sons who drove her batty. Tommy sometimes overwhelmed her, too. But he had that effect on the people who worked for him; Sophie was no exception.

  Between her fear of falling in love with him and whatever problems he was currently facing, she was getting more nervous by the minute.

  She approached the other woman’s desk and said, “I’m not feeling well.” She went into her morning-sickness spiel, also repeating what Tommy told her to say.

  “Oh, sugar, don’t worry about needing to go home. I was as sick and surly as an old hound dog with my kids. Sipping cola syrup used to help. Keeping crackers and pretzels beside my bed and at my desk was a lifesaver, too. I heard that some women sniff lemons to alleviate their symptoms. It’s supposed to be an aromatherapy thing.” The redhead sighed. “But if it gets really bad, you can get a prescription for an antiemetic drug.”

  Sophie had already discussed morning-sickness remedies with her doctor, but she appreciated Barbara’s input. “I’ll check back with you tomorrow. I just need to get off my feet today.” By now, her story wasn’t so much of a lie. She was getting weary. But whether it was the baby or a
reaction to the stress, she couldn’t say.

  Barbara wished her well, and Sophie left the office and climbed into her truck. She rolled down the windows, taking refuge in the cool November air.

  By the time she got to the mansion, she’d already listened to a slew of songs on her playlist. None of them were Tommy’s. As nervous as she was, she couldn’t handle his music today.

  She entered the property through the main gate and drove around back. She didn’t want to risk seeing Dottie or Chef Bryan or anyone else. Instead, she took the poolside steps that led directly to Tommy’s suite.

  He was in his bedroom, trapped in a state of dishevelment. He’d made a mess out of his hair—he’d obviously tugged his hands through it—and he’d rubbed his forehead raw, the friction making his skin turn red. He was rubbing it now, even pressing his fingers against his eyes.

  “You look awful, Tommy.”

  “I’m so scared, Soph.” He came toward her. “And I’m worried about how this is going to impact you.”

  “Just tell me what it is.” She needed for him to come clean. “Just say it.”

  “I just found out that Kara’s baby could be mine, after all.”

  She felt the color drain from her face. “What?”

  “The lab that did the paternity test called today and said there might’ve been a mix-up in the results and that I might actually be the father instead of the other man.”

  “Oh, my God.” Sophie sat on the edge of the bed. She could barely think straight. “How is it even possible to mix up a test like that?”

  “They think the labels on the vials of blood might’ve gotten switched. They just discovered that a disgruntled employee was deliberately tampering with stuff, and it’s possible that our samples were compromised by this person. We won’t know until we retake the test.”

  “Then that’s what you’ll have to do.” She rocked forward, clutching her stomach. No way was she going to allow herself to love Tommy. Or tell him that she’d been struggling with it. She was already in deeper than she should be. “Did you talk to Kara?”