A Baby In The House. Pamela Bauer

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      The door flew open and there she stood wearing a pale blue nightgown

      “Were you asleep?” Garret asked.

      “Of course! It’s two o’clock in the morning.” Panic replaced the sleepy look in Krystal’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

      “I need to come in.”

      “If you came here to check on me, it’s not necessary. I’m not sick.”

      “I know. You’re pregnant.” That stunned her into silence. He waited for her to say something, but nothing came out of her mouth. “It’s true, isn’t it?” he said.

      She moistened her lips, then said, “Yes. I’m sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t practically begged you to take me to bed, we wouldn’t be in this—”

      Garret cut her off. “Wait a minute! Are you saying I’m the father?”

      Dear Reader,

      As a child I spent many hours with a length of clothesline in my hand. My friend Susie would be on the other end and our friend Joanie would be in the middle, jumping as we twirled the rope and sang one of the many ditties created especially for skipping rope. Our favorite was the one that ended with “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Joanie pushing a baby carriage.”

      It’s a refrain that echoed often in my head while I wrote this book because my heroine, Krystal—like a lot of women—believes she’s going to fall in love, get married and have a baby—in that order. Then she does a favor for a friend and discovers that her plan has suddenly been thrown out the window. Now she finds herself wondering if it’s possible to have a baby first, then get married and then fall in love.

      As you read this story you’ll find the answer. You’ll also meet the women who live at 14 Valentine Place, a wonderful old Victorian house where love has a way of sneaking up on its tenants when they least expect it. I hope you’ll enjoy your visit with them.

      If you’d like to write to me, I love to hear from readers. Send your letters to Pamela Bauer, c/o MFW, P.O. Box 24107, Minneapolis, MN 55424, or you can visit me via the Internet at www.pamelabauer.com.

      Warmly,

      Pamela Bauer

      A Baby in the House

      Pamela Bauer

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      For the baby in our house,

       Aedan Paul.

       What a joy you are!

      And a special thank-you to

       Michelle Rudolph for sharing her

       professional insights with me.

      CONTENTS

      PROLOGUE

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      EPILOGUE

      PROLOGUE

      KRYSTAL GRAHAM SPOTTED Garret Donovan across the ballroom, briefly locked her eyes with his, then glanced away. She waited only a moment before allowing her gaze to slowly wander back to his, giving him a smile that said, You know what I’m thinking and it’s a bit naughty.

      The flirtatious move hinted at an intimacy that didn’t exist and was part of a plan to make Samantha Penrose jealous. It worked. Samantha couldn’t keep her eyes—or her hands—off Garret.

      As Krystal stared at Garret, she could see why. He was cute. Not exactly her type, but still cute. And sexy. That realization rocked her for a moment. She hadn’t thought of him in that way before. He’d always been her landlady’s son. A friend. But tonight he looked good enough to send a little jolt of pleasure all the way down to her toes.

      She shook her head. There was no point in thinking of Garret in that way, because she was making a new start with Roy.

      She glanced at her watch, wishing she were with him now. As if Garret could read her mind, he came toward her and suggested they leave.

      She slipped her arm through his as they said goodbye to his colleagues. Seeing Samantha across the room watching their movements, she whispered to Garret, “If you kiss me now you can make your old girlfriend very jealous.”

      He looked her in the eye and said, “As tempting as that offer is, when I kiss a woman it’s not for someone else’s benefit. It’s because she wants me. Do you want me to kiss you, Krystal?”

      She did, only she wasn’t about to admit that to him. It was a startling discovery and one that kept her quiet as they walked through the hotel corridors to the front entrance. When they were waiting for the parking lot attendant to bring his car around, she knew she needed to say something about the sexual tension that seemed to have come out of nowhere between them.

      “Garret, the reason I came with you tonight…” she began.

      “I know why you’re with me, Krystal. My mother asked you to be my date, but contrary to what you—or my mother—may think, I don’t need help when it comes to my relationship with Samantha Penrose.”

      It wasn’t the first time she’d heard those words. When his mother had suggested they go to the hospital ball together, Garret had objected to the idea, but it had been a good-natured objection. Now he sounded angry.

      “Look, it’s still early. Why don’t you go back inside and I’ll take a cab home,” she suggested.

      “You aren’t taking a cab anywhere. I brought you here and I will take you home.”

      His tone made her sound like an obligation. “I wasn’t planning to go home. I thought I’d go to Roy’s place.”

      “Old unfaithful, huh?” He slowly shook his head.

      As her friend, he knew about her on-again, off-again relationship with Roy Stanton. Until tonight, however, he’d kept his opinions of the other man to himself.

      “He’s changed.” She felt the need to defend her decision to give Roy another chance.

      “I’m glad to hear that,” he stated. She wished she knew if he truly meant those words, but as usual, his face revealed nothing of what he was thinking.

      The parking lot attendant had brought the car around, and he held the door open for her. Reluctantly, she climbed inside. Garret didn’t speak as he drove except to ask for directions. She should have been used to it by now—his penchant for silence. It had been that way since the first day she met him. She’d never known a man who could get so lost in his own thoughts.

      When they reached Roy’s apartment complex, he said, “Wait. I’ll walk you to the door.”

      He was the dutiful escort, making sure she arrived safely inside the dimly lit lobby. “Thanks. It’s right here.” She motioned to the lower level apartment. “Someone’s home. I can hear music.”

      “So can half the neighborhood,” he said dryly.

      “You can leave. I’m fine.”

      He surveyed their surroundings with a critical eye, then said, “I’ll go back to the car, but I’d appreciate you signaling when you’ve