by Judy Duarte
“You silly guy. What’re we going to do with you?” Ellie gave him a scratch behind his floppy ears.
“Hey,” Daria said from the doorway. “You’re home.”
“Yep.” Ellie straightened but continued to study the rascally pup. “I swear Tank has doubled in size in the past couple of weeks. The lease allows us to have one small pet, but that puppy is going to outgrow anyone’s definition of ‘small’ before we know it. The landlords are going to freak when they see him.”
“You’re probably right.” Daria crossed the kitchen, opened up the pantry, removed a dog biscuit from the box and handed it to Tank.
Ellie scanned the floral wallpaper, yellowed and faded from age, the pink Formica countertops, and outdated white appliances. The entire house could have used a major renovation decades ago, but the owners hadn’t wanted to spend the money.
Even though the house was a rental, Ellie planned to buy new blinds and paint the third bedroom and turn it into a nursery.
“If the landlord doesn’t want Tank here,” Daria said, “I’ll have to look for a new place.”
That might sound like an easy solution, but Daria’s part-time job as a bookkeeper at the car wash didn’t pay much, so she wouldn’t be able to afford a dog-friendly place until she found a better position.
“How’s the housebreaking coming along?” Ellie asked.
“Awesome. Tank’s doing great. He hasn’t had an accident all day. Every time I take him outside, he goes potty.”
“Sounds like you’re the one who’s being trained.”
Daria laughed. “Yeah, you’re right.”
If the landlord did complain about Tank, Ellie and Daria might have to house hunt together. They’d both gotten attached to the rascally pup. He was a little goofy but lovable. He was also a little troublesome. “Did he chew up anything today?”
“Nothing but his toys. But then, I’ve been following him around like a coyote circling a chicken coop.”
“That’s good to hear. I don’t want to lose another pair of heels.”
“Sorry about that.” Daria reached for another dog biscuit and handed it to Tank.
As she did, Ellie took a moment to watch her friend, who was the prettiest woman she’d ever known. Daria’s biracial father had been in the military and stationed in Hawaii when he met and married her mother, who was a Pacific Islander. Daria seemed to have inherited all the best qualities of every race and culture represented on her family tree, including long dark curly hair, blue-green eyes and tanned skin. The men in town had noticed, too, but Daria claimed she wasn’t interested in dipping her toes back in the dating pool.
After giving Tank a pat on the head, Daria straightened and brushed her hands against her slacks. “So, how’d the tour of Mariana’s Market go?”
“Okay, I guess. But I don’t think the Fortune brothers will alter their plans for that fancy hotel. So I’m not sure how helpful it was in the long run.”
“By the way,” Daria said, “I took some chicken out of the freezer. I thought I’d add some barbecue sauce and bake it. How’s that sound?”
Ellie took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “It sounds good, but I’m not eating at home tonight.”
“You have another meeting? On Saturday night?”
“Sort of. I’m having dinner with Steven at the Fame and Fortune Ranch.”
Daria’s jaw dropped. “No kidding? Does he know about...?”
“The baby? Not yet. So far, you’re the only one I’ve told. But I’m going to let him know tonight.”
Daria leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed her arms. “Before you tell your mom and dad?”
“That’s my plan. He seems to be interested in me—romantically. So tonight, when we’re alone, I’ll tell him I’m pregnant. That ought to cool his heels. And it’ll force me to quit dragging my feet and finally face my parents with the news.”
Daria let out a little whistle. “You might want to rethink that.”
“Telling my parents?”
“No. You need to do that. And sooner rather than later. But it just seems weird to share that news with Steven first.” Daria eyed Ellie carefully, then blew out a slow whistle. “OMG. He’s not the only one having a few romantic thoughts, is he?”
Ellie might have waved her off, told her she was wrong. But Daria knew her almost as well as she knew herself. “All right. I find him attractive. But even if he were interested in dating a pregnant woman—and I’m one hundred percent sure he wouldn’t be!—I’d never go out with him. We have too many opposing ideas.”
“I’ve always believed the old adage that opposites attract.”
“Maybe. But they don’t make for lasting relationships. We both learned that the hard way.” Ellie nodded toward the doorway. “Come on. Let’s go into the living room. I’ve been walking all over Mariana’s Market, and I want to get off my feet.”
As Daria followed her out of the kitchen with Tank on their heels, Ellie added, “On top of that, what would the community say if they thought I’d gone to the dark side?”
“Seriously?” Daria laughed. “You see Steven Fortune as Lord Vader? Come on, he’s not that bad.”
“Maybe not.” Ellie plopped down in the brown recliner and kicked off her shoes. “But I’ll have enough community disappointment to worry about within the next couple of days. I’m not going to throw a can of lighter fluid onto the flames. Besides, I really need to focus on getting ready for the baby.”
“I can’t wait to help you. We’ll have to plan several shopping trips. You’re going to need a small dresser, a crib and some cute bedding. And once your parents find out, I’ll bet your mom will want to convert one of their spare rooms into a nursery, too.”
“True.” There was no argument there. George and Alma Hernandez loved children, especially babies. They’d make awesome grandparents. “But it might take them a little while to get used to the idea. They’re pretty conservative. I don’t think they’ll like me running around town barefoot and pregnant.”
“Then wear your shoes.” Daria smiled and slowly shook her head. “Come on, Ellie. You’ve never been an embarrassment to them. And you won’t be now.”
“I hope you’re right. It’s just that...”
“Your parents adore you. They’ll get over any disappointment they may feel real quick. And in this day and age, that should take all of five minutes.”
“You’ve got a point. It’s just...” Ellie didn’t keep much from Daria, but she’d never told anyone about the conversation she’d overheard when she was only six. Maybe now was the time to share it. “A couple of weeks after they first took me in as a foster child, I stood outside the kitchen door and heard my father ask my mom if she was sure she wanted to go through with their plan to adopt me.”
“You can’t blame him for that. Adoption is a big step. It’s only natural that a couple would talk it over and make sure they’re on the same page.”
“I know. But he said something else. He asked if she thought I might have inherited any bad genes from my biological parents. I didn’t understand all the words he’d used, but I knew what he meant. My biological father was a gang member serving a life sentence. And my mom was a druggie who cared more about her next fix than she did me.” Ellie took a deep, fortifying breath, then slowly let it out. “Papa was afraid that, even if they provided me with love and a solid upbringing, I could turn out to be just like my birth parents.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I know.” Ellie gave a little shrug, hoping her friend could piece it all together—the insecurity that still lingered inside, popping out every now and then, the fear of failure that sometimes dogged her.
“How did your mother respond to that?”
“She told him they’d just have to take it one day at a time.”
“Apparently, those days went b
y without a hitch.”
“Only because I made up my mind to prove to them that I wasn’t a bad seed.”
“You don’t think your parents know that?” Daria asked.
Ellie’s shoulders slumped. “Yes. But for the record, my birth mom was never married to my dad. And she used to entertain a lot of men, if you know what I mean.”
“Come on, Ellie. So you had sex with Mike. When you realized the relationship wasn’t working, you split up. That’s what a smart woman does. Your parents can’t blame you for that. Dang, girl. The guy’s a freelance photographer whose new job requires him to fly from country to country on photo shoots. He’d never be around. And, on top of that, he didn’t want kids. Ever.”
“You’re right. I’d hoped he’d change his mind in time, so I respected that. But then I got bronchitis, and the antibiotic must have made my birth control pills ineffective. We used a condom, but he wasn’t happy about it and got a little careless.”
Mike had been a bad choice from the get-go. And Ellie should have been smarter, should have picked up on his flaws earlier.
“Ditch the pity party,” Daria said. “Let’s focus on the upside. You’re going to have a sweet baby boy, and I’m going to be a godmother and an honorary auntie.”
Ellie blessed her friend with a smile. “He’s going to be a lucky little boy, one who’s well loved from the day he arrives.”
“You got that right. That little peanut isn’t going to want for anything.”
Except a father.
Ellie rested her head against the backrest and closed her eyes as she recalled the day she’d told Mike she was pregnant.
“You gotta be kidding,” he’d said.
“I’d never joke about something like this.”
They’d already broken up for several reasons, his new job assignment for one, and she’d known he wouldn’t be happy with the news.
“I’m not ready for a kid, Ellie. And you just got elected mayor. You don’t need to be burdened with one now, either. How soon can you schedule an abortion?”
She’d cringed at the thought of the solution he’d suggested. The baby might be unplanned, but unlike her parents had done to her, she’d never put her needs and desires over those of her child.
“I won’t take that route,” she’d told him.
“Don’t expect me to take that journey with you. I’m flying out to South America in two weeks.”
And he’d done just that.
What would Steven think when she told him tonight? Not that it mattered. Mike hadn’t had a problem walking away from his own flesh and blood. No way would a man, especially one as rich and handsome as Steven Fortune, want to deal with someone else’s baby.
And Ellie had better not let another fruitless thought like that cross her mind again.
* * *
As Steven drove Dillon home, he made a mental list of what he’d need to do before Ellie arrived—and the top of that list was to figure out what kind of groceries to buy.
Manny, the family cook and ranch caretaker, was off this weekend, which was just as well. Steven preferred to prepare dinner for her in his private quarters.
“Hey,” Dillon said, “aren’t you listening to me?”
Had he said something? “Sorry, I was deep in thought.”
“Me, too,” Dillon said. “About the hotel. If the people we met today are a good representation of the community at large, we’re going to have a hard time getting the project approved. Maybe we ought to scrap the original plan.”
Steven shook off his thoughts about his date with Ellie and got back to business. “No way am I going to roll over. That hotel, as planned, will be good for the town as a whole. I’ll just have to use a little more charm and finesse.”
“With whom?” Dillon cut a glance across the seat and cracked a smile. “The planning commission? Or the beautiful mayor?”
Steven didn’t respond.
“Cat got your tongue?” Dillon asked. “You can’t deny it. I saw fireworks between the two of you today.”
“They were probably one-sided.”
“No, it went both ways. Ellie might consider you an opponent, but she’s attracted to you, too.”
Thoughts about Ellie always kicked up Steven’s pulse a notch. He’d suspected that she felt something for him, but realizing that his brother had picked up on those vibes, too, validated his suspicion and sent his blood pumping.
Silence filled the cab as they neared the ranch, then Dillon spoke again. “Did you see the way she interacted with the people at Mariana’s Market?”
“How could I miss it? She’s like a rock star to them.” In fact, Steven was a bit dazzled by her himself, not that he’d admit it. “It’s not likely that she’ll change her mind about the hotel. She still thinks it’s too big, fancy and expensive for the common folk.”
“Since when have you ever let a stubborn politician stop you?”
“Never.” And Steven wasn’t about to let one stop him now. He’d work on Ellie a little more at dinner. “By the way, Dillon, I hope you have plans tonight.”
“Why’s that?”
“I invited Ellie to come over.”
“I knew it.”
“You don’t know squat. It’s just a business meeting.”
“The hell it is.” Dillon chuckled. “You’ve got more than business on your mind, brother.”
Maybe so. He had to admit he was eager to spend more time with her. But no matter how big the Fame and Fortune Ranch was, he wanted to entertain her in private. And since Callum and Becky were spending the night in Austin with the twins and Stephanie had recently fallen in love with Acton Donovan and was now living with him on his ranch, tonight was Steven’s best chance of having Ellie to himself.
“Don’t worry,” Dillon said. “I’ll make myself scarce. I’ve got a kitchen in my quarters, just like you do. So give it your best shot.”
Four hours later, the doorbell rang, sparking a rush of excitement as Steven headed to the foyer. He’d already fired up the grill on his private patio. A couple of filets, seasoned just right, were waiting in the fridge, and he’d completed all the prep work for a salad.
He swung open the door, and while he’d known the pretty mayor would be standing on the stoop, he hadn’t been prepared to see her looking so...amazing. Her glossy black hair hung loose and down her back, allowing him to see how long it actually was. Her brown eyes were larger and more luminous than usual, and a shy smile stretched across her pink-glossed lips.
“Come in,” he said as he stepped aside and watched her enter the house rocking a pair of dark jeans and a funky T-shirt with a Rosie the Riveter print. The woman who looked hot in whatever she wore never ceased to surprise him.
He led her through the foyer, with its travertine flooring, floor-to-ceiling windows and Southwestern artwork, and to the east, toward his private quarters.
“You have a nice house,” she said, her gaze taking in the decor. “Or should I say estate?”
“House works for me.” He offered her a disarming smile. “We didn’t all live together in Florida, but we got a good deal on this place. Another developer built it for himself and his fiancée. But the couple split up before they moved in, so Callum, Dillon and I snatched it up.”
“Hmm. That seems to be your MO. You just pick up projects that were abandoned prior to completion.”
“Can you blame us?”
“No, I suppose not.” Ellie’s steps slowed as she took a moment to scan the expansive living room that was rarely used. “It does seem like a luxurious mansion.”
“I guess you’re right. There are two guest houses and enough land for us to build more, if the need should arise.”
“Not to mention the guard at the gate who let me in.”
“The gatehouse is a new addition to the property.” And only a precautio
n. The disgruntled people who’d formed protest groups were probably harmless, but Steven and his brothers decided a little extra security wouldn’t hurt.
“I didn’t expect the Fame and Fortune Ranch to be a luxurious compound.”
“I prefer to call it a ranch. You’ll have to check out the stable.”
“I’m sure it’s impressive,” she said.
Right now, the only one he wanted to impress was her.
“So where is everyone?” she asked.
“It’s just you and me tonight.”
Her gaze zeroed in on his, setting off a flurry of pheromones that damn near took him out at the knees. Talk about fireworks. Dillon had been right. Those colorful sparks were going both ways.
He was half tempted to reach for her, to pull her into his arms, but it was too soon. And he wasn’t about to push when they had the whole evening in front of them.
“I thought I’d grill a couple of steaks—filet mignon. But if you’re not into red meat, we can have chicken or salmon.”
“No, that’s fine. Steak sounds good.” Her head tilted slightly, and a playful glimmer lit her eyes.
“What’s the matter?”
“It’s just that I never pegged you for a chef.”
“I’m not. But I can whip up a decent meal when I want to. My sisters, the triplets, are super foodies. That’s why they’re going to open Provisions, the restaurant we’re building.”
“I hope they have some business experience. Restaurants take a lot of work.”
“Actually, Ashley, Megan, and Nicole have a lot of experience working in restaurants. They’ve been cooking, waiting tables and working front of the house since they were in high school. And Nicole might be self-taught, but she’s worked her way up to sous chef. She knows what she’s doing.”
Ellie scrunched her brow in the cutest way, and her head cocked slightly to the side.
“I know what you’re probably thinking,” he said. “A lot of people find it surprising that a man who’d made a fortune in the video game industry would insist that his children get jobs once they turned sixteen. But my dad figured it would build character. And that working would keep us out of trouble.”
