The Pregnancy Surprise. Kara Lennox

arrived right after. I got them all settled into their rooms.”

      Then, because he’d promised Miss Greer, he’d listened to messages, returned phone calls and taken three reservations. Business was certainly heating up as summer approached.

      “How is Miss Greer?” he asked as he pulled away from the curb without any clue where they were going.

      “Resting comfortably. She’s scheduled for surgery first thing in the morning. Meanwhile, they gave her some pain meds that worked pretty well, though they made her a little bit loopy.”

      “Loopy?” That was hard to imagine.

      “She thought she was a little girl, and she spoke in German. Did you know she came over from Germany right after the war?”

      “I truthfully don’t know anything about Miss Greer. She’s not exactly chatty.”

      “Sometimes when she’s baking, she’ll let things slip.”

      “Speaking of baking…” Reece said, “I assume you’ll want to be at the hospital for Miss Greer’s surgery tomorrow.”

      “Yes, of course,” Sara said passionately. “Someone has to be here for her. But what does that have to do with baking?”

      “What about breakfast?”

      “I can grab something here.” Then she gasped. “Oh, my gosh, who’s going to feed the guests?”

      Exactly what Reece was wondering.

      Sara looked at him, her eyes beseeching. “I don’t suppose you’d—”

      “Oh, no. I don’t even know how the coffeemaker works. Where are we going, by the way?”

      She looked around, orienting herself. “Turn right at the light. Reece, you have to do breakfast. It’s easy. I’ll get everything ready for you. All you have to do is pull things out of the oven. Then there’s just the easy stuff—orange juice, yogurt, toast—oh, shoot, I need to bake bread, too.” She looked at her watch. “Maybe we shouldn’t do dinner after all.”

      Reece was surprised at how disappointed he felt. He wanted to take Sara to dinner. “I’ll help,” he said. “I guess if I don’t actually have to cook, I can handle it. As soon as we’re done with dinner, we’ll go back and I’ll help you all I can to get ready for tomorrow.”

      Her smile lit up the whole car. “Great.”

      Yeah, great. He wondered if he should refund the Silversteins and the others some of their money. Part of the appeal of a B and B was a fancy, fabulous breakfast. But with Reece in charge, he was afraid it would be distinctly non-fabulous. He would shoot for edible.

      “Just so you know, cooking was the one Boy Scout badge I never got. And I made it to Eagle Scout.”

      “You were a Boy Scout? That’s so cute.”

      Cute? He didn’t want Sara to think of him as “cute.” But he supposed “hot and studly” was out of the question.

      “Sara, where are we going again?”

      She looked around. “Oh, shoot. I forgot to tell you to turn at the last light.”

      “No problem.” Reece made a U-turn. “So where is it?”

      “I’m not sure of the exact address, but I think I know how to get there.”

      “And what’s this place called?”

      “I don’t remember, exactly. But I think it’s an Indian place. Or maybe Pakistani. Maybe there’s an elephant on the sign.”

      Pakistani food? No, thanks. Despite the fact New York had ethnic restaurants on every corner, he was a meat-and-potatoes man. Spicy, foreign food had never done anything but give him heartburn. He didn’t even like pepperoni on his pizza.

      Well, maybe he could get a hamburger. Few restaurants would refuse to cook a hamburger.

      “I think you turn left at this next light,” Sara said uncertainly.

      “You think?”

      “It’s around here somewhere, don’t worry.”

      Easy for her to say, but he hated not knowing where he was. It would never occur to him to wander around until he found a restaurant that he sort of knew the location of. If he’d been the one planning dinner, he would have found the name and address of the restaurant, programmed the information into his satellite navigation system and followed the directions.

      “Want to look at the map?” He pointed to his GPS, which showed their current location.

      “Oh, I can’t make heads or tails of maps. It’s easier for me to find things by feel.”

      They wandered around for another fifteen minutes, making what Reece knew were increasingly random turns, until it became clear they were hopelessly lost.

      “I saw a steak house back that way,” Reece said. “We could try that.”

      Sara wrinkled her nose. “Steak is so boring. I know I can find this place. Give me five more minutes.”

      In five more minutes he was going to start eating the leather on the dashboard. But he obliged her and, miracle of miracles, after a couple more turns, they found themselves at a strip shopping center in the middle of which was a sign with a red goat on it. The restaurant was called Sofia, and it was neither Indian nor Pakistani, but Bulgarian.

      “That’s it!” Sara cried triumphantly. “I told you I could find it.”

      “If we drove every street in Corpus Christi, we’d find it by process of elimination,” he grumbled. “Anyway, I don’t see an elephant.”

      She punched him lightly on the arm. “Don’t be a spoilsport. We’re here, aren’t we? And that goat looks like an elephant.”

      They were somewhere. Which was not cause for celebration as far as Reece was concerned. He would’ve preferred the steak house. Yes, he was set in his ways. But he liked his ways.

      “I’m not eating goat meat,” he said, though he did pull into a parking place. He could at least give the place a try, since Sara seemed to be so excited about it.

      “You’ve never eaten goat?”

      He pulled a face. “Have you?”

      “Sure. In Mexico, cabrito is served everywhere. It’s good.”

      “It’s goat meat.”

      “Well, I’m sure this place serves something you’ll like.”

      The restaurant was kind of interesting, he had to admit, reminding him of something you might find in the Village. The décor was dark and red and suitably exotic, and everyone who worked there appeared to be actually from Bulgaria. The mouthwatering smell of grilled meats made Reece’s stomach growl. Maybe this wouldn’t be so horrible after all.

      The prices were certainly reasonable. Not that he minded paying premium prices for really good food.

      Sara ordered Bulgarian red wine, cold cucumber-yogurt soup, and some kind of pepper stuffed with meat and rice.

      “Do you have a hamburger?” Reece asked when the waiter turned to him. “Or a plain beef steak?”

      Sara and the waiter wore twin expressions of horror.

      “Reece,” Sara said, “you can’t come to a restaurant like this and order hamburger. I’m not sure they even serve beef here. Don’t you want to try something interesting?”

      “I don’t really like spicy food,” he said, feeling boring all of a sudden.

      “How about this?” Sara asked, pointing to an unpronounceable word on the menu. “It’s supposed to be like a shepherd’s pie.”

      That didn’t sound so bad.