A Baby Affair

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  He heard the door close quietly behind them, and knew that dinner that night had to include Angie. Wanted it to include her. He’d taken her on.

  They’d also need to call his parents. And he had another problem solved, too. A daughter-in-law and granddaughter were going to take care of the whole upcoming anniversary gig.

  “But...you love that house, Craig. It’s your home...and you’re mine... I know that now.”

  “I found my home, my family, in your condominium, Amelia. And any other place you might ever need to live.” He’d schedule times to run home to the condo during the day to put Talley out. And walk her instead of riding every night. Or they could walk her together. He probably wasn’t going to be doing much bike riding anymore. Not for a little while, anyway. Until Isabella was old enough to sit in a child carrier on the back.

  “I was thinking, maybe, we could move to the ground floor? Those homes have yard areas where my balcony is. That way Talley could have her doggy door...”

  Sliding his hand beneath her hair, he looked at her. Just stood staring. A little slow to accept what his eyes were telling him. That when love arrived there were no problems too big to handle.

  “I love you, Amelia Grace.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He kissed her then. Deeply. And she kissed him back. An honest, open kiss. One that promised more than just a moment.

  One that promised a life.

  * * *

  Book One in The Parent Portal miniseries—Having the Soldier’s Baby—is available now. And don’t miss Book Three—Her Motherhood Wish—coming in April 2020 from Harlequin Special Edition!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Right Moment by Heatherly Bell.

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  The Right Moment

  by Heatherly Bell

  Chapter One

  Her groom was late.

  Joanne Brant peeked through the bridal tent the wedding coordinators had set up outdoors. From here, she’d walk with her best friend Hudson Decker down a rose-petal-covered path to the glass-enclosed gazebo in the middle of a meadow. Every touch, from her Vera Wang dress to the gardenia garlands decorating the outside of the gazebo to the string quartet now tuning was breathtaking. Beautiful.

  Still no sign of Chuck.

  She was nervous enough as it was. Where was he? They were supposed to get started soon. She worried a manicured fingernail between her teeth. This didn’t make sense. Chuck was always punctual, sometimes to a fault. Stomach churning, she wondered what could be the cause of the delay. Was he hurt? Caught in traffic? Accident?

  It had better be a good excuse.

  “What time is it?” Joanne asked Nora Higgins, her maid of honor and head seamstress at Joanne’s bridal boutique. “I don’t have my cell phone with me.”

  “Um.” Nora glanced at hers. “It’s one thirty.”

  “What? One thirty? He’s half an hour late. How did I not realize that? We’re half an hour late to start!”

  This wasn’t funny. When he finally showed up, she’d... She’d... Well, she’d marry him.

  “I’m sure he’s got a good reason,” said Monique Brandt, Joanne’s cousin, and another bridesmaid.

  “Maybe traffic is bad.” Eve Wiggins, Joanne’s IT person, always went with logic.

  But Chuck always accounted for traffic because he hated to speed even more than he hated to be late.

  Hudson or “Hud,” her best friend and the one who’d give her away in place of her late father, strode into the tent. He was six foot plus of hard body, and every time he walked into the bridal tent every one of her bridesmaids licked lips and tossed hair.

  “What’s happening?” His tone was clipped. Annoyed. It was no secret that he was not a fan of Chuck Ellis.

  Right now, neither was Joanne. If he embarrassed her by being much later, she might go on their honeymoon to the Bahamas alone. That would teach him.

  “I need my cell phone,” she said to anyone who would listen. “Where is it?”

  “Yeah, maybe he’s been texting you,” Nora said.

  “He should not be texting you,” Hud said. “He should have his ass here. Now. That’s what he should be doing.”

  “Maybe there’s a problem, though,” Joanne said, as always, making excuses for Chuck.

  Emily Parker-McAllister, the event planner who ran weddings at Fortune Valley Family Ranch, walked in, a practiced smile on her face. “Looks like we’re missing a groom. Do we need to delay much longer?”

  “I’ll check,” Joanne said. “Who has my cell phone?”

  It took far too many minutes to find her phone, set to vibrate and hidden under three different garment bags. She glanced down at it. Her phone had blown up with text messages from Chuck.

  I’m sorry.

  I can’t do this.

  Are you going to answer me?

  I know I should have said something sooner.

  And the last most devastating message of all:

  I’m not coming.

  Joanne dropped her phone and slumped on the closest chair, nearly falling over. She felt as if all the color had drained out of her face. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. Not to her. After so much planning. The perfect dress. Perfect venue. She owned a bridal boutique. She was supposed to know weddings.

  This didn’t make any sense. Chuck had meant safety and security to Joanne for the past year. They were well suited to each other in many ways. Compatible. Chuck had claimed to want children with Joanne and was already saving for their future education.

  He was reliable. Steady.

  He’d made her feel secure and wanted never even once looking at another woman. This was so out of character for him. What could have possibly changed his mind?

  “Is he hurt?” Nora said. “Has there been an accident?”

  “What’s wrong?” Hud demanded.

  Oh, God. Too many questions. She couldn’t speak. It seemed as though Hud’s words were coming through a voice changer in slow motion. Her bridesmaids, eyes wide, jaws gaping, looked like caricatures of themselves. They knew something was horribly wrong. Maybe Joanne hadn’t been the best person in the world during her thirty-two years on earth, but even she didn’t deserve this. No one did. Unbearable humiliation and shame tore through her.

  When she still hadn’t answered anyone, Hud crouched low in front of her, right in her line of vision. His eyebrows were drawn together in confusion, or concern. “Jo...tell me.”

  “He’s not hurt but...” She met Hud’s green gaze, so kind, so worried. “He’s...he’s not coming.”

  Both Monique and Nora gasped.

  “I’ll be right back,” Emily said, and left them.

  “What do you mean he’s not coming?” Hud asked.

  Her best friend was the only one in the room who still didn’t get it. When Joanne didn’t elaborate, Hud searched for her phone and picked it up off the floor. Reading the messages, he then cursed loudly enough to make Eve, Monique and Nora move closer to Joanne and circle her, putting shaking hands on her shoulders. But Joanne wondered why she wasn’t crying. Why she wasn’t devastated. She simply felt... humiliated.

  And in all honesty, a tiny bit numb. Make that more than a tiny bit. Shock, she assumed.

  She’d had doubts too, these last two weeks, but those were normal. Right? They were called wedding day jitters for a reason. Am I making a mistake? Do I really love him?

  All normal.

  Joanne had told herself that the tiny spark between them would grow with more time. The important thing to her was that she had a f
iancé with a rock steady plan for their future. And he was committed to her. Ha! What a joke.

  “Where is he?” Hud said in a low menacing voice. “I’ll go get him for you.”

  He would, too. If she’d wanted him to, Hud would find Chuck, hog-tie him and drag him to the ceremony. He’d proceed to threaten him to within an inch of his life if he tried to run again.

  “You can’t. He...doesn’t want to...get married.” The words came out slow and measured, as if she were trying them on for size. She was almost too shaken to speak.

  “Then he shouldn’t have asked you.”

  But Hud didn’t know that she’d been the one to suggest marriage in the first place. She wanted to settle down. Her sixteen-year-old son, Hunter, nearly grown now, it was finally time for her life to begin. She wanted a life partner and didn’t want to be alone anymore. She’d waited so long and sacrificed so much. Worked long hours putting herself through fashion design school while raising a child. She’d opened a successful bridal shop with seed money from her father and put in long hours.

  Chuck had agreed that marriage was a good idea, too, and claimed he was ready. He’d given her the ring, handed it to her over breakfast one morning, certain she’d accept it since the whole thing had been her idea. There was never an actual proposal, almost a business agreement.

  One he’d backed out of at the last minute.

  Outside, a small commotion had started. Confused and annoyed voices. “I gave up a golf date for this,” someone said. “Do we get the presents back? Because I’m not bringing another one if they try this again!”

  She heard her son’s voice, or was that his father’s? They sounded so similar. Her mother would be heartbroken when she heard the news. She’d liked Chuck. Thought he was good for Joanne. Bad enough Dad had passed away before he could see Joanne married, but now this. Mom didn’t take humiliation any better than Joanne did.

  Emily walked inside the tent. “Everything’s taken care of. We’re letting everyone know that a small emergency has prevented the wedding from going through today. People are beginning to leave now. Your family will probably want to talk to you.”

  Yes. Her mother. Hunter. Oh God, she’d have to explain this to her son. She already embarrassed him enough just by breathing.

  “I’m going to find Aunt Ramona and explain,” Monique said, rubbing Joanne’s shoulder. “Calm her down.”

  “Please,” Joanne said, then turned to Emily. “I’m so sorry about this. Thank you for everything.”

  “We’ll talk again soon.” Emily excused herself.

  And there would be plenty to talk about. Such as food for the reception that might rot before it could be consumed. A DJ who would insist on being paid regardless. The minister. A deposit they’d never get back.

  Hud stopped pacing in front of Joanne. “What do you want me to do? I’ll do anything.”

  “Get me out of here. I can’t talk to anyone right now. Please...just take me home.”

  * * *

  Like her groom, the tears didn’t show up. Not later that day, nor later that night.

  Hud had driven her home, she’d changed from her beautiful sweetheart collar Valentino dress—being the owner of a bridal boutique had its perks—and dropped on the bed wearing nothing but her underwear. Laying back, she laced hands behind her neck. She needed time to think. To be with her own private thoughts. She’d asked Hud to leave, but in his typical maddening style, he’d refused.

  She could hear him downstairs, doing something in the kitchen, opening the door to someone. Talking to them while she lay in her bed staring up at the ceiling wondering why she’d ever thought marrying Chuck would be a good idea.

  Had she really been that desperate to finally get married? For another child? For a true partner, both in bed and in life?

  She’s upstairs. Yeah, I’ll have her call you. Thanks for bringing all the food. Sure, we’ll eat it all. Don’t worry.

  Then presumably on his phone:

  Bastard...just need two minutes alone...no, I’m just kidding...sort of.

  Joanne groaned. Sounded as though Emily might have brought the food from the reception so that at least it wouldn’t completely go to waste. Great. Wonder if between all of her friends and family she could get rid of all the meat, scalloped potatoes, rolls and vegetables?

  Later, she wasn’t sure how much later, but the bedroom had darkened and long shadows filtered through her blinds. She’d just changed into shorts and a tee and sat back down on the bed with a pad of paper when Hud again opened her bedroom door.

  “Jo.”

  She didn’t answer and kept her back to him. Let him go away and leave her be. He was beginning to piss her off. She had a life to reconsider and re-plan in case anyone cared.

  “Joanne,” he commanded.

  “Go away.”

  He knelt beside her bed and handed her something. Something cold, metallic and small. It seemed to be a phone.

  “You need to answer Hunter’s texts. He’s at Matt’s and freaked out. They both need to know exactly what happened.”

  Oh God. Hunter. He’d been scheduled to stay with his father, Matt, and his new wife, Sarah, at their home for a month this semester. The idea was to give her and Chuck time to adjust to married life after their honeymoon. Hunter had to be wondering what was going on. And Mom. It was a shock she wasn’t at the front door banging it down. She assumed she had Monique to thank for that.

  “And your mother,” Hud continued. “If you don’t call or text her, she’s coming right over.”

  No. She didn’t want Mom coming over now. She just wanted to be left alone, not that Hud would listen.

  Hud stood in the doorway waiting, arms crossed over his wide chest, watching her carefully from under hooded eyes.

  What was she supposed to tell her son? She was too ashamed to come out with the harsh truth. I’m sorry. Chuck was a loser. But instead of me realizing that in time, I let him fool me. He simply told me what I wanted to hear. And I was too desperate to believe it. Hunter didn’t need to know all the details because he was still technically a child. A man child, her son, with dreams of becoming a Marine. Maybe she could text him, his preferred mode of communication, and she didn’t have to sound upbeat. She just had to write happy and inspirational words. She’d never wanted to be a Hallmark card writer as badly as she did at this moment.

  Hey, honey. Something happened to Chuck and he couldn’t make it to the wedding so we canceled. Don’t worry, everything is going to be okay.

  Hunter: What? He’s dead?

  Joanne: No! All is okay. We’ll talk soon. Have fun with your Dad.

  Hunter: Still getting married later?

  How was she supposed to answer that question? There was no point to lying. She told herself that he’d know sooner or later. All they’d need to do was mention it to one person in Fortune, where it would spread like their wildfires.

  Joanne: I don’t know. Maybe not. I need to think.

  Hunter: You going to the Bahamas?

  It hadn’t even occurred to her to go. In the Bahamas she wouldn’t know what to do by herself for two weeks. Granted, she’d be in a luxurious honeymoon suite, but still. She could hide out in the Bahamas or here. She chose her comfortable and familiar bed.

  But what if she told everyone she was going to the Bahamas? They’d at least leave her alone for a while.

  Joanne: You know what? Maybe I should!

  Hunter: You should. I say go for it!

  She finished texting with Hunter, with further assurances that if she went to the Bahamas (she was not) she’d have loads of fun. She’d surf (in her dreams), snorkel (please), and take plenty of selfies.

  She glared at Hud. “Okay. Done. Happy?”

  Exhausted by the effort, she threw the phone down. Hud gave her a “nice try” look and reminded her, “Your mother. Now.
”

  “Really?”

  “Monique told her everything but she wants to hear it from you.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “And you have about ten minutes to do it or she’ll be here. With food. And you have enough food downstairs to open up a restaurant.”

  “I need to think. Figure out what my next steps are. Hud, I’m the owner of a bridal boutique who just got jilted! Do I look like a person who can make a phone call right now?”

  “You do.”

  “Damn it!” He wasn’t going to let this go. Joanne picked up her phone and dialed, steeling herself for the onslaught.

  “Joanne! Oh, my darling. I’m sososo sorry,” her mother started in on the waterworks without delay. “Chuck didn’t show! You of all people don’t deserve this.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Of course you’re not okay. Don’t hide the pain, dear. Just deal with it, work through it. There are no shortcuts. You’ll be better for it. What stage are you in?”

  Joanne wrinkled her nose. “Stage?”

  “Grief. There are seven stages of grief and you should be at stage one right now. Though I know you’ve always been such an overachiever. But don’t rush it, honey.”

  Joanne wondered if stage one was anger because right now she could feel it bubbling up inside her.

  Chuck was nothing but an ass who didn’t have enough courage to face her. If he’d changed his mind, he could have told her before today.

  But her mother always brought everything down to a self-improvement book to read, or a supplement to take. Perhaps a vitamin. Meditation. She wanted to help, but Joanne didn’t think life was ever that simple. All the plans she’d had were gone. Plus, she was the owner of the only bridal shop in town and she’d been stood up at the altar.

  Was there a supplement for that?

  “I’ll be right over with some of my chicken soup. Hud says you have too much food there now as it is, but nothing is better for a broken heart than my chicken soup. Remember I fed you this soup after you and Hud broke up? After Dad died? You know it’s got my special ingredient. Love.”