A Baby And A Betrothal. Michelle Major

was totally unlike her.

      But when Noah had said he wanted to kiss her, something in Katie’s world shifted. It was all she could ever remember wanting, and there was no way she was going to let this moment pass her by, no matter how out of her element she felt. She knew if she revealed her doubts and insecurities, Noah would stop. The women she’d watched him choose throughout the years were experienced and worldly, able to keep up with him and his desires. Katie found that what she lacked in experience, she made up for in the magnitude of wanting him. It made her bold, and she wasn’t about to let this night end now.

      She bit down on her bottom lip as his jeans and boxers dropped to the floor. She hadn’t seen his bare chest since the summer after college and Noah had filled out every bit of the promise his younger body had held. He was solid muscle, broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist and strong legs. She tried to avoid looking too closely at certain parts of him—big parts of him—afraid she’d lose her nerve after all.

      A tiny voice inside her head warned her this was a mistake. Noah had been drinking and he was an emotional wreck between worry over his mother and memories of his father. The thought that she might be taking advantage of him slid through her mind and she fervently pushed it away. If anyone was destined to be hurt in this situation, it was Katie. Yet she couldn’t stop.

      He pulled a wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and took out a condom before tossing the wallet onto her coffee table. He sheathed himself as he bent toward her again. “You’re going to hurt that lip biting it so hard,” he said, drawing her attention back to his face.

      “Give me something better to do with my mouth,” she told him, amazed at her own brazenness.

      His answering smile was wicked and he kissed her again, his hand sliding along her hip then across her thighs. She loved his hands on her, warm and rough. He seemed to know exactly how much pressure she wanted, how to make her body respond as though she’d been made for him. His fingers brushed her core and she squirmed then let herself sink into the sensation he evoked. She moaned, gasped then shifted, arching off the sofa as his rhythm increased.

      “Not enough room,” she said on a gasp, flinging her hand toward the edge of the sofa.

      “You’re so ready, Katie.” Noah kicked at the coffee table with one leg, shoving it out of the way then rolling off the couch, pulling her with him onto the soft wool rug as he went. They fell in a tangle of limbs and he eased her onto her back once more, cradling her face in his big hands as he whispered her name. “I want you so much.”

      “Yes, Noah. Now.” She grabbed on tight to his back, loving the feel of his smooth skin and muscles under her hands. He slid into her and for a moment it was uncomfortable. It had been an embarrassingly long time since she’d been with a man. Then it felt good and right. Perfect like nothing she could have ever imagined. Noah groaned, kissed her again then took her nipple between his fingers. It was enough to send her over the edge. She broke apart, crying out his name as he shuddered and buried his face into the crook of her neck.

      A long time later, when their breathing had slowed and she could feel the sweat between them cooling, he placed a gentle kiss against her pulse point then lifted his head.

      Katie was suddenly—nakedly—aware of what they’d done, what she’d instigated. How this could change their friendship. How this changed everything.

      “I guess practice does make perfect,” she said softly, trying to show with humor that she was casual and cool.

      “You make it perfect,” Noah answered, smoothing her hair away from her face.

      Her eyes filled with tears before she blinked them away. How was she supposed to keep cool when he said things like that? When he looked at her with something more than desire, deeper than friendship in his gaze? He might as well just open up the journal she’d kept for years and read all her secret thoughts.

      He reached up and grabbed the light throw that hung over the back of the couch. He wrapped it around them both, turning on his side and pulling her in close. “But the floor? I should be ashamed of myself taking you like this. You should be worshipped—”

      “I feel pretty worshipped right now,” she said, running her mouth across his collarbone. “I like being with you on the floor.”

      “Then you’ll love being with me in bed,” he answered. He stood, lifting her into his arms as he did, and carried her down the hall to her bedroom.

Chapter Three

      Katie blinked awake, turning her head to look at the clock on her nightstand. 3:30 a.m. She woke up every morning at the same time, even on her day off. Her internal clock was so used to the extreme hours of a baker, they had become natural to her.

      But today something was different. She wasn’t alone in bed, she thought, shifting toward where Noah slept beside her. Except he wasn’t there. The empty pillow was cool to the touch. It had been only a couple of hours since he’d made love to her a second time, then tucked her into his chest, where she’d fallen asleep.

      She sat up and thumped her hand against her forehead. That was exactly the kind of thinking that would get her into trouble. Noah hadn’t made love to her. They’d had sex. An important distinction and one she needed to remember. She knew how he operated, had heard enough gossip around town and witnessed a few tearful outbursts by women he’d loved then left behind.

      Still, she hadn’t thought he would be quite so insensitive when it came to her. Love ’em and leave ’em was one thing, but they were supposed to be friends. She climbed out of bed, pulling on a robe as she padded across the hardwood floor. Her limbs felt heavy and a little sore. She found herself holding her breath as she made her way through the dark, quiet house. Maybe Noah hadn’t been able to sleep and had come out to the kitchen. Maybe he hadn’t rushed from her bed the moment he could make an easy escape.

      The rest of her house was as empty as her bedroom. He’d put the coffee table back and straightened the cushions on the couch. Without the aches from her body and the lingering scent of him on her, Katie wouldn’t quite have believed this night had happened. She’d imagined being in his arms so many times, but nothing had prepared her for the real thing or the pit of disappointment lodged deep in her gut at how the morning after dawned.

      She glanced at the glowing display on the microwave clock and turned back for her bedroom. There was no time for prolonged sadness or a free fall into self-pity. It was Friday morning and she had the ingredients for her cherry streusel coffee cake waiting at the bakery.

      She had a life to live, and if Noah didn’t want to be a part of it, she had to believe it was his loss. She only wished that knowledge could make her heart hurt a little less.

      * * *

      When Noah climbed out of his Jeep four days later, he was hot, sore and needed a shower.

      It was a perfect early-summer day in Colorado, clear blue skies and a soft breeze. The weather had been great on the trail, too, and normally Noah would have relished the time in the forest. As he’d climbed the ranks of the United States Forest Service, more of his time was spent in meetings and conference rooms than outside. Since he’d be town-bound once his mom had her surgery and started treatment, he’d taken the opportunity to check out a trail restoration project on the far side of Crimson Pass. He didn’t want to think about the other reasons he might have disappeared into the woods for a few days—like worry over his mom’s health or what had happened between him and Katie the night before he’d left.

      Because if he’d wanted to escape his thoughts, he should have known better than to try to do it with the silence of the pristine forest surrounding him. It was as if the rustling of the breeze through the tall fir trees amplified every thought and feeling he had. Most of them had been about Katie. The tilt of her head as she smiled at him, the way her lips parted when he was buried inside her, the soft sounds she’d made. He’d been consumed by visions of her, catching the sweet smell of vanilla beneath the pine-scented air around his tent.

      He