Her Secret, His Baby. Tanya Michaels

in recognition, his name on her lips so soft he saw it rather than heard it. “Garrett.”

      He couldn’t believe she was here—and even more beautiful than he remembered. Her cheeks were rosy, her aquamarine eyes bright and lively. He couldn’t recall noticing a woman’s skin before, but Arden’s creamy complexion beckoned him to touch her.

      Garrett realized two things at once: he was staring, and she didn’t look happy to see him. Then he came up alongside her, getting his first real look at her profile, and had a startling third revelation. Arden Cade was pregnant.

      It wasn’t immediately obvious until one saw her stomach. She seemed to be carrying the baby completely in front. From behind, other than the curve of her hips, there hadn’t been— Good Lord. He was ogling a pregnant woman.

      He swallowed. “So. How’ve you been?” He punctuated his question with a wry glance at her abdomen. He knew nothing about pregnancy. His understanding was that women didn’t show for a few weeks, although Arden was slim enough that perhaps it was more obvious on her than it would have been on someone else. He had no real sense of whether she was four months along or eight.

      That was a sobering thought. Was there a chance she’d already been carrying when they’d made love? The possibility upset him beyond any rational justification.

      “I, uh...” Her eyes cut to the side, as if she were seeking help. Or scoping exit routes. “It’s good to see you.”

      Wow, are you a bad liar, sweetheart. “You’re obviously busy.” He gestured to the bananas she’d been perusing. “I won’t keep you. I’m staying in town with the Connors for a few days, and when I saw you there, I thought I’d say hi.”

      The tension in her shoulders eased fractionally. “Hi.” She managed a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

      “Arden? Is there a problem here?” A broad-shouldered man approached, his tone possessive as he practically rammed his cart between Arden and Garrett. He was a tall son of a gun, even had an inch or two of height on Garrett.

      “No problem, Justin. Except that I’m...feeling sick.” Her progressively ashen color backed up her claim. She dropped the produce bag she’d been holding into the cart. “Get me home. I can come back later for anything we missed.”

      “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll come back.” When he glanced at her, Justin’s features softened. But the glare he aimed at Garrett was flinty with suspicion.

      Garrett’s stomach dropped. He’d known there was a good chance Arden would be involved with someone. So why was his disappointment at being right so keenly bitter?

      Wait a minute. His eyes narrowed, and he met Justin’s unblinking stare. Those blue-green eyes were a lot like Arden’s. And the thick brown hair they both shared? Arden’s was streaked with honey and gold, while the man’s was more like coffee grounds, but the resemblance was unmistakable.

      A broad grin stretched across Garrett’s face. “Is this your brother?”

      “Damn right.” The man took a step forward. “And you are...?”

      “Justin, please.” Arden’s voice trembled. “I have to get out of here.”

      “Right. Sorry. Let’s go.”

      With a hasty, departing wave from Arden, they were gone. Garrett stood there, bemused.

      Had she truly been unhappy to see him, or did her not feeling well explain her behavior and the grimace she’d tried to cover? At first, he’d thought her skittish demeanor was due to the awkwardness of running into a fling while her significant other was nearby, but that wasn’t the case. Maybe he’d misread the situation entirely.

      But as he began piling groceries into the buggy, he conjured her face again. He could have sworn the emotion he’d seen in her eyes was...fear. Why on earth would Arden be scared of him?

      * * *

      “GREAT DINNER,” GARRETT complimented his hostess. Personally, he’d been too preoccupied to taste a bite of the meal, but Hugh had wolfed down his roast beef with gusto, so Garrett felt reasonably sure of his statement.

      Darcy Connor, Hugh’s pretty blonde wife, beamed from across the kitchen table. Her gregarious nature seemed at odds with the cliché image of a part-time librarian. “Lavish praise, doing the shopping for me—when word gets out about you, my single girlfriends are going to be lining up at the front door.”

      “Since you cooked, we can do the dishes,” Hugh volunteered.

      “Another time.” She shooed them out of the kitchen. “Garrett just got here yesterday. You still have lots of catching up to do.”

      “Isn’t she terrific?” Hugh asked adoringly as they relocated to the living room. He grabbed a television remote from the side pocket in his recliner, flipping through channels until he found a college football game. “If you’d told me when I was a freckled, fifteen-year-old comic book collector that I could get a woman like that to marry me...”

      Garrett snorted. “You were also six feet tall and the team quarterback.” His auburn-haired friend might well have freckles and an interest in superheroes, but he hadn’t spent his teenage years lonely. “As I recall, you went to senior proms at three separate high schools.”

      Hugh grinned. “Did I? Before Darcy, it’s all a blur. What about you, man? You had a pretty active social life, too. I was surprised you didn’t bring anyone to the wedding.”

      Boy, would that night have ended differently. A month prior to the wedding, he’d been dating a woman he’d planned to take to the ceremony, but they’d ended things when she got a job offer that took her to the east coast.

      “Speaking of your wedding,” Garrett said with studied nonchalance, “I never got to see how the photos turned out. Isn’t there an album or something?”

      “Darcy,” he called to his wife, “you have a willing victim here. Garrett asked to see wedding pictures.” Turning back to Garrett, he added, “Narrating our photos is one of her favorite hobbies, up there with bird-watching and snowboarding. I warn you, the collection is massive. There’s the professional album our photographer put together, then the one Darcy crammed full of everything from wedding shower pics to the honeymoon.”

      “I remember the photographer,” Garrett said. Understatement of the year—she was seared into his memory like a brand. “Arden, right?”

      Hugh smirked. “Why, you looking for a photographer? Maybe planning to have some of those glamorized portraits done? You’d look pretty spiffy in a sequined cowboy hat.”

      “I think I ran into her at the grocery store earlier. The woman I saw was pregnant?”

      “That’s her, Arden Cade.” Hugh clucked his tongue. “Poor kid. Being a single mom can’t be easy under the best of circumstances, much less with gossips buzzing about the dad.”

      Garrett leaned forward on the couch. “Why? Who’s the dad?”

      “It’s a big mystery. Far as anyone knew, she wasn’t seeing anyone. Maybe it was a long-distance relationship with an out-of-town guy. People were shocked when she turned up pregnant and even more shocked those two brothers of hers didn’t march the dude responsible into a shotgun wedding.”

      The fear he’d seen on Arden’s face today flashed through his mind, and a completely insane thought struck him. He was an out-of-town guy. They’d used condoms, but those weren’t effective one hundred percent of the time, were they? He’d heard stories.

      “Out of...” His throat was so dry he had to try again. “Out of curiosity, do you know how far along she is?”

      Hugh regarded him suspiciously but didn’t challenge the bizarre question. “Hey, Darce? You have any idea how far along Arden is in her pregnancy?”

      Darcy appeared in the doorway between rooms, drying her hands