Stay with Me: A Second Chance Accidental Pregnancy Romance

by Lea Coll

  I backed away, needing distance. “You were the one who walked away.”

  My heart beat loudly in my chest and my hands shook. She’d abandoned me so easily as if I meant nothing to her. It was crushing back then to think the years we’d been together were so easily dismissed and thrown away.

  “I’m sorry. I came here to smooth things over. Not make things worse.” Tears shone in her eyes but I looked away.

  Was that the issue? She made things worse, not better, for me. It was always about what she wanted. What her dreams were. How her home was unbearable. How she had to get away from here. How she only felt safe with me. But in the end that wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

  But I couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t as immune to our breakup as I’d thought.

  Lucy

  I dove right into wedding planning. I wanted to show Jack and Samantha that I could do a good job and I was dependable after being absent from Jack’s life for so long. I wasn’t one of those people who’d lost her job, her home, and moved into her parents with her tail tucked between her legs, even if that’s exactly what I was—a cliché.

  I met with Samantha first thing Monday morning in the bakery. The bell sounded over the door as I opened it, but Samantha didn’t look my way as she rang orders, boxed pastries, and poured coffee for the long line of customers.

  I stood by the counter until Samantha noticed me.

  “Thank God you’re here!” Samantha cried. “Come help.”

  I placed my hand over my chest and asked, “Me?”

  “Yes, you. Get over here.” She threw a pink apron at me as I hustled behind the counter and tucked my briefcase under the counter. “Take some orders.”

  I panicked, standing behind the counter with the long line of expectant customers waiting for me to do something, but I’d never worked any kind of retail or even waitressed before. Samantha shot an encouraging smile my way as I tied the strings behind my back. I squared my shoulders standing in front of the first customer, telling myself I could do this. “How can I help you?”

  I didn’t stop taking orders, money, and handing out pastries and coffee for another thirty minutes. By the time the rush slowed down, my feet and back ached from the high heels I’d worn. “I was not expecting to work customer service this morning.”

  “Clearly. Why are you wearing those heels?” Samantha pointed at my shoes.

  “This is how I dress when I’m working.” And I considered what I was doing for Jack and Samantha a job.

  “You’re working?” she asked, her brows raised.

  I pointed to the briefcase I’d flung under the counter when I’d arrived. “Yes, I’m your wedding planner, remember?”

  “Morning, Sam.” Jack came into the bakery, eyes on Samantha as he placed his hands on the counter and leaned over to kiss her.

  “Did you come for your coffee?” Samantha asked, smiling sweetly.

  “Yes, I’m teaching all day today and I wanted to see you before I went to work,” Jack said.

  “Didn’t you guys just see each other? At home?” I shook the image of them in bed from my head.

  “I left at four A.M. That was hours ago.” Samantha poured Jack a large cup of coffee and handed it to him in a to-go cup.

  “Okay,” I said, drawing out the word. I’d certainly never experienced the domestic bliss these two had. I dated Wyatt when we were kids. It was all stolen moments in his truck, the marina, or the swimming hole and racing home before curfew.

  With one last chaste kiss, Jack said, “I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

  He pulled away as Samantha nodded. “Later, sis. Good to have you around.” He waved over his shoulder as he left.

  Looking around the quaint bakery with the white wainscoting and pink paint, I felt an unexpected sense of belonging. Then I saw the black and white framed photographs I’d taken of the town and marina during one of my short visits home. I walked over to get a closer look and Samantha followed.

  “Thank you so much for taking these pictures and framing them. They look awesome here and customers always comment on them.”

  “These turned out great.” I couldn’t believe my pictures were good enough to be displayed in a business.

  “Maybe you could do photography on the side. You know, just until you find something else.”

  I waved her off. Displaying my photos in my future sister-in-law’s business was one thing—selling them to strangers was another. I grabbed my briefcase and pulled out my laptop, setting it up on the counter. “That was something I did in college. Let me show you what I found so far.”

  We’d briefly discussed her vision for the wedding as simple and elegant after Wyatt had left brunch the other day. I felt like I knew Samantha’s style well enough to pull together some ideas for the décor and flowers. I pulled up the Pinterest page I’d started.

  “Oh my God,” Samantha gushed. “I love this. Everything is so beautiful and simple.”

  “Great. I’m glad you like it.”

  “This is why I hired you. I knew you’d understand my vision.”

  “I think I do. Now tell me exactly what you like and don’t like so we can narrow things down. We don’t have a lot of time.” The wedding ceremony would be outside, the wedding couple would exchange vows on the dock, and the guests would be seated by the waterfront. The reception would be a little easier, since it would be inside in the same ballroom where the engagement party was held. But I didn’t want easier. I wanted a memorable wedding for Jack and Samantha. I’d been absent from Jack’s life for a while and I wanted to make it up to him.

  We went through colors and options for a tent, linens, chairs, and tables so I could order them in time for the wedding.

  When customers filtered into the bakery again, I moved to a table in the corner by the restrooms and made a few phone calls to city hall to get a firm answer on the completion of construction on the marina so that we could set a date. After going round and round, I finally got the receptionist to send me to the person in charge of the project and secured a tentative date with a second option if necessary. Not having a firm date for the wedding complicated everything.

  When the rush died down again, Samantha moved to sit across from me at the tiny table. Watching her carefully, I asked, “Is the yacht club your first choice for the reception? I know it’s handy if it’s raining, but—”

  Samantha smiled. “What did you have in mind?”

  I pulled up the picture I’d found online of another waterfront wedding on the Eastern Shore. Inside the tent, material draped from the pitched center to the edges, which were lined with twinkling lights. A beautiful chandelier hung from the center. “Even if it rains, we should be okay under the tent. We can rent one with sides that could come down.”

  “How romantic would that be—rain falling on the roof of the tent?” Samantha’s eyes looked dreamy as she kept her eyes on the picture and I knew I had her.

  “As long as it’s not raining too hard, we should be fine. We’ll rent a wooden floor, which will run the entire length of the tent.”

  “I love it.”

  Wow. I’d never planned a wedding before or even thought about my own, but it was easier than I thought. “I started a spreadsheet of all of my ideas with the costs involved.”

  She waved me off. “You can run the numbers by my mom.”

  Then we agreed on blush-colored tablecloths, white napkins, and white traditional wedding chairs.

  “Can I show you the invites I picked?” She held her hand out for my computer and I turned it over to her. When she showed me the simple and elegant invites with the raised silver lettering and a pink anchor on the top I smiled.

  “These are perfect for you guys.” Samantha mentioned pink would be one of her wedding colors and the anchor represented the location of the wedding and their ties to the marina. “Is Jack in agreement?”

  “He wants whatever I want as long he doesn’t have to wear a pink tie.”

  “You aren’
t going to make him, are you?”

  She shook her head laughing. “No. I want him to marry me.”

  “It’s good you’re not a bridezilla.” And it was a good sign that Jack and Samantha seemed to be in agreement on most things.

  “Have you tried on dresses?”

  She shook her head.

  You’ll need one off the rack because you don’t have enough time to order one. When I called the dress shop in town, they said they had a few you could try on.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Great. I’ll book a time we can all go and make a day of it.”

  “Really? I was planning on going with my mother and arguing over each option.” Samantha rubbed her temple as if she was getting a headache thinking about it.

  “No. She can come if she wants but I’ll make sure all of your bridesmaids are there too. We’ll have champagne, so you can relax. I’ll handle your mother. Remember that’s why you hired me.”

  We stood and Samantha pulled me in for an impromptu hug. “This is turning out to be the best decision I ever made.”

  “Now about the bachelorette party.” She walked behind the counter to take a sip of her drink.

  “Yeah?” I stiffened as I closed my laptop and stowed it in my bag.

  “I want it to be a complete surprise. I don’t want to approve anything. I told you my vision and I want you and Wyatt to handle it.”

  “Okay.” I’d promised Jack it wouldn’t be an issue, so I had to make an effort with Wyatt. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle everything.”

  “But I don’t want you to take over planning because you’re our wedding planner. Jack wants Wyatt’s input too so that it’s fun for him and not too girly.”

  “Got it. Do you want to do separate activities and come together the end of the night or is everything side by side?”

  “The guys are going to the baseball game and I think we can do a spa day. But other than that, I don’t want to plan a thing.”

  It felt good that she trusted me to plan the perfect weekend for them without any more input and I hoped I could pull it off. When more customers arrived, I said goodbye and left to continue working from home. I was deep in thought as I closed the door to the bakery, running through a mental list of everything I needed to do.

  “Lucy?”

  I turned to find Wyatt, and my eyes slowly moved from the black combat style boots on his feet up his army green uniform, past his utility belt, which held a gun, and up to the badge on his chest, which read DNR. When I finally made it to his face, his brows rose.

  Clearing my throat, I said, “Wow. I didn’t realize you wore a uniform.” Or that he carried a gun. Both were attractive.

  His eyes seemed to be tracking my reaction to him—cataloging the higher pitch of my voice, the flush of my cheeks, and how I shifted in my heels. “I’m a state police officer but I protect the state’s resources and wildlife.”

  “Right. Of course.” I nodded as my eyes narrowed on him. He was cockier than when we were together—his shoulders back, his feet wide, a gleam in his eye like he knew exactly how he affected me.

  His eyes shot down to the black strappy stilettos I was wearing. “A bit much for Chestertown, don’t you think?” His lips twitched in amusement before his eyes slowly traveled up my bare legs, the tight black pencil skirt, and silky white button-down shirt I’d tucked into my skirt, and his eyes flared when he passed over the amount of skin showing where I’d left open the top few buttons.

  He’d mentioned my outfit last time he’d seen me too, as if he’d judged me and found me lacking based on my style alone. “I’m working. I stopped in to discuss the wedding with Samantha.”

  He shifted on his feet and cleared his throat. “Okay.”

  “What, no more criticisms of my outfit?” I tilted my head to consider him.

  “No.” Then he leaned in closer to me and I was so overwhelmed with his scent, his proximity, and thoughts of what he was going to do—touch or kiss me—that I felt it acutely when he pulled away.

  I felt my face flush and his eyes flashed to mine. When I’d left his house the other night, he was so angry with me. Could he get passed what happened? I wanted him to forgive me but did I want him to move on to someone else?

  “We should talk about the bachelor and bachelorette parties. Samantha wants us to handle everything—together.”

  I took a second to focus on his words. “She told me. I can pull together some ideas and send them to you.”

  “No. She wants us to both be involved and making decisions. Or I should say, Jack does. He doesn’t want the guys going to a spa.”

  I rolled my eyes. “This might not be my regular job, but I know not to send grown-ass men to a spa.”

  “Do you?” he asked.

  “Yes, and you’re a lot more exasperating than when we were kids.”

  “I’m a man.” His voice was low and sexy and rumbly.

  When he said the word man my mind jumped to how he’d look without clothes and left me wondering just how different he was physically from the last time we were together. He was bigger now, his biceps straining his uniform sleeves, his jacket tight across his shoulders, and the best part was how his stiff uniform pants were taut over his muscular thighs. “I can see that.”

  “Let’s get together on Saturday. Meet me at my house at five A.M.”

  “Hmm?” I asked still distracted by thoughts of how his body had changed, how he had changed. Back then, he was so sweet and willing to do whatever I wanted. Now, he was an interesting combination of cocky, grumpy, and bossy.

  “We’ll go fishing on my boat.”

  “At five A.M.?” I worked crazy hours at my last job, but I never woke up at five A.M. “Is that really necessary?”

  “Yeah, it’s the best time to catch fish.”

  “Wait a minute, why are we catching fish? I thought we’d meet to go over possible locations for the parties. Or like I said I could just do the legwork and email you the options.” There’d be no escape in the middle of the river if things got tense, which they would.

  “You’re home. You should do the things you used to do, remember what you used to love about living here.”

  His voice was silky smooth, conjuring memories of long afternoons at the swimming hole, jumping off the hanging rope into the water over and over again, evenings spent riding bikes through town, down long dirt roads, and chasing each other before tackling the other to the ground. We had the best times then, when everything was simple and there was no pressure and no responsibility.

  The memories washed over me, one after another, so vivid, I swayed on my feet. The idea of Wyatt helping me to remember what I loved about living here was both surprising and intriguing. I wanted to argue about how it was too early in the morning or how we couldn’t plan the parties while fishing, but I didn’t. I wanted to spend time with Wyatt.

  Wanting to be with Wyatt was never the issue—or maybe it was. Maybe even in high school I knew if I continued to date Wyatt while we were in college, I’d move back home for him and forget about my dreams.

  Was I the same person he knew, or had I become someone he couldn’t stand to be around? Even though I’d tried not to think about him over the years it didn’t mean I hadn’t. Every man I dated was compared to him, effectively ending those relationships before they’d begun. “I’ll go as long as we’re going to go over the party too.”

  His eyes narrowed. “We can talk about it. I don’t think we need spreadsheets to plan a bachelor party.”

  Actually, we did. I needed spreadsheets for everything. I opened my mouth to disagree, but he lightly squeezed my shoulder as he stepped around me.

  “See you Saturday,” he called over his shoulder and I couldn’t help watching him walk away in that uniform, which clung tightly to his tight ass. I couldn’t wait to see him again.

  I shook my head. What was I thinking? I didn’t want Wyatt. We were too different. We wanted different things. There’s no way we’d work. Then I wa
tched him jog in front of a car to get to his DNR truck parked across the street. Was it possible to explore our physical chemistry without getting involved emotionally? Did he want to pursue something physical too? That night on his porch I could have sworn he was going to kiss me.

  I licked my lips. We’d always had a connection and maybe it would be better now that we were older—he’d be more skilled and I’d be more confident. I’d love to find out.

  Wyatt

  I’d thrown out the idea of the fishing outing never expecting her to agree. Lucy from high school was up for anything but I didn’t know this Lucy, and I wondered if maybe once I got to know her, I’d like her. Maybe I’d ignore every red flag and bell going off in my head telling me this was the girl who screwed me over and I shouldn’t get too close or she might do it again. Driving back to the office, passing the town I’d never left, I found myself looking forward to seeing Lucy on Saturday. It had been a long time since I’d anticipated spending time with a woman and Lucy wasn’t just any woman—she was my high school sweetheart.

  Blood hummed in my veins and my temple throbbed with an impending headache—was it a mistake to be alone with Lucy? She’d always had the power to suck me into whatever was going on in her life until I lost sight of myself. I was older and more mature and liked to think she couldn’t get to me anymore, but I already knew from the little time we’d spent since she’d come back that when I was with her, I wanted to be closer, I wanted to touch her, I wanted to kiss her, I wanted to pull her body against mine and feel her curves.

  I needed to focus on what was important—the promotion I’d always wanted. Maybe this fishing excursion would be my chance to prove she no longer affected me. She didn’t hold any power over me. That we could finally move forward.

  Lucy

  I spent the rest of the week dealing with city hall about the end-date for construction on the marina. I wanted to avoid orange fencing in the background of the wedding pictures. After calling the vendors, it became clear I needed a firm date and dates were filling up fast for August.