How To Be A Blissful Bride. Stacy Connelly

      “I know Lisette did a number on you—”

      Now it was his turn to toss the menu aside. “This has nothing to do with Lisette,” he stated flatly.

      “Then what?”

      “It’s—”

       We come from different worlds, Chance.

      He watched as Griffin James, a man very much a part of Alexa’s world, reached over and cupped her cheek in his palm.

      “Nothing,” he told Rory finally. “It’s nothing.”

       Chapter Four

      “Don’t worry. Everything’s under control.” Even as Alexa spoke the words into her cell phone, she fought a burst of hysterical laughter that would certainly be enough to send her grandmother’s panicked assistant over the edge. Not to mention the state it would leave Alexa in.

      Under control? As she listened to Raquel rattle off the dozens of details her grandmother had needed handled in the three days since Alexa left, she couldn’t imagine anything being further from the truth.

       Chance was alive.

       Chance was here.

       She needed to tell Chance he was the father of her baby.

      The phrases had circled endlessly through her mind, robbing her of any hope of a good night’s sleep. She’d always been an early riser, part of the strict schedule her grandmother had established and one Alexa couldn’t seem to break no matter how hard she tried. Or no matter how many hours she’d spent tossing and turning the night before.

      Her doctor had encouraged exercise and warned her about too much stress, so Alexa had set out on a early morning walk. As she’d breathed in the cool morning fog, a bit of pressure eased from her chest. The breeze rustled through the pines, carrying a hint of salt air, and she was glad she’d thought to grab a thigh-length beige sweater to wear over her tunic-style cream blouse and tan leggings.

      But any sense of relaxation had come to an abrupt end as she remembered that Chance wasn’t the only one Alexa needed to tell about her pregnancy. And while she had no idea how Chance was going to react, she had a good idea what her proper, old-fashioned grandmother would have to say.

      Tuning back into the conversation and Raquel’s laundry list of concerns, she reassured the younger woman, “You’ll do fine.”

      “But the Giving Thanks benefit—”

      “Everything is going as scheduled. I confirmed with the vendors this morning.” Alexa could hear Raquel relaying the information back to her grandmother and Virginia’s protests in the background. “Tell my grandmother—”

      “You can tell me yourself, Alexa.” Virginia Mayhew’s crisp voice cut across the line.

      “Like I was saying to Raquel, everything is under control. I contacted—”

      “You should be here working on the benefit. How does it look for you to be off on vacation at the most critical time of the fund-raising season?”

      Considering she typically dealt with vendors by phone or email, Alexa knew things didn’t “look” any different. She also knew that wasn’t her grandmother’s point. Alexa was the face of the foundation, and that face was always supposed to be in the public eye.

      But Alexa was tired of constantly living behind a public persona. She wanted to live her own life. A life where she could go outside without the perfect clothes, perfect hair, perfect makeup. A life where she could be something less than perfect. “It’s only for a few days, Grandmother.”

      “This isn’t a good time. I told you that before you left.”

      “Yes, you did,” Alexa acknowledged, but it was never a good time. Which was why she hadn’t taken a vacation in...she couldn’t even remember how long. “I’ll be home soon.”

      Alexa hung up feeling the familiar weight of expectation pressing on her chest. She had started volunteering for the Mayhew Foundation when she was still in her teens and had dedicated her adult life to helping raise money for those in need.

      Taking a deep breath, Alexa pressed the button on the side of her phone. For the first time, she was going to think of her needs. She’d longed for a break from the nonstop schedule for the past year or so, but doubted she would have made the stand if not for her pregnancy.

      Growing up in her grandmother’s house, Alexa’s world had been filled with directives as to what a Mayhew did not do. A Mayhew did not slouch, did not sulk, did not argue, did not cry...

      Only with Griffin had Alexa ever felt she could let down the walls her grandmother’s rules had built around her and truly be herself. Only with Griffin...and with Chance.

      Not that her feelings for the two men were at all the same. With Griffin, she felt safe. With him, she could say and do whatever she wanted.

      With Chance, she felt dangerous. With him, she had said and done things she’d never imagined, and now...

      Alexa was certain getting pregnant following a weekend fling would fall within the “did not” constraints.

      But telling her grandmother would have to wait. First, she needed to tell Chance.

      Some wistful part of her hoped that he would be stunned, yet overjoyed by the news. Sweeping her up into his arms the same way he’d swept her off her feet in Santa Barbara.

      After confessing she’d never done something so out of character, so impetuous as to sleep with a man she’d just met, they’d teasingly come up with the list of crazy, adrenaline-fueled exploits for her to try next—all with Chance right by her side.

       How about rushing headlong into the adventures of parenthood, Chance? How do you feel about holding my hand on that wild ride?

      But after seeing him again, it was almost impossible to imagine a happily-ever-after ending. The charmingly seductive man she’d met the night of the charity ball seemed so...different now. Had the injury somehow changed him? Or had she allowed herself to start to fall for a man who didn’t even exist?

      Maybe he would even deny the baby was his. She supposed that would serve her right after foolishly pretending not to know him, and after she’d told him not to contact her in the first place, but the idea of Chance turning his back on their child made her heart ache.

      I want this baby. A child to care for, to nurture, to love. The baby might have been unexpected, but not unwanted. Never unwanted. At least not by her.

      Alexa slid the phone into the pocket of her sweater and glanced back toward the hotel. She’d walked farther than she’d realized, the Victorian turrets silhouetted by the gray autumn sky. She thought she’d taken the path that would lead to the gazebo Rory mentioned during their tour, but instead she caught a glimpse of a small cottage between the trees. She couldn’t help smiling as she recalled Griffin’s comment. If Rory was Snow White, then Alexa could certainly imagine seven dwarves living in the cute stone and wood structure.

      She was tempted to take a closer look but stopped short when the front door opened. Her breath caught in her throat as Chance stepped outside, erasing any thoughts of fantasy dwarves and replacing them instead with the reality of six feet of living, breathing male.

      Standing on the small porch, he stretched his neck from one side to the other. As his gaze swung in her direction, Alexa automatically ducked. She cringed, imagining what her grandmother would say if she could see her now, crouching behind a row of hedges before he could spot her.

       A Mayhew does not skulk in the bushes, Alexa.

      As she watched from her leafy vantage point, he ran both hands through his tousled dark