“Then I’m all set.”
* * *
In nine months—forty weeks—she could have a baby. The thought brought on so many different emotions as she walked along Main Street in Glenwood Falls an hour later. Happiness was definitely the leading one, but also nervousness and self-doubt—different than the kind she’d experienced earlier. Before, she’d been second-guessing her decision to go through with the procedure, but now that it was done, her concerns and fears about motherhood grew exponentially.
Dr. Chelsey hadn’t led her astray, though—the implantation process had been almost too easy and pain-free, making her doubt whether he’d actually done anything. And other than the stress of the whirlwind emotions, she felt great—the vitamins and supplements she’d been taking in recent weeks had done wonders for her skin and hair. She was surprised they didn’t inject folic acid into beauty supplements.
Ignoring the tempting aromas coming from the bakery, she crossed the street, noticing a sign on an overhang that said BABY CHIC. It was obviously far too early to be buying baby stuff, despite the extreme temptation to do so, but she could look. No harm in that.
A bell chimed overhead as she pushed open the door to the shop. The place was empty, and she didn’t see an employee or store owner anywhere as she entered. Boxes lay on the floor between shelves painted vibrant primary colors, and the store’s name was painted in block letters amid a mural of baby animals along the back wall.
Taking in the cash register and debit/credit machines still sitting in boxes on the counter, she realized it must not be open for business yet. Pieces of light hardwood flooring were still missing from the far end of the store.
“Hi there,” a woman said coming from the back of the store. “Sorry for the mess. The store’s not technically open.”
“Sorry to wander in.” She looked around. “The door was unlocked…” The designs in the window on the child-sized mannequins—the good kind with heads, not the creepy headless ones—were the only things displayed, except for tables covered in baby clothing to her right.
The woman smiled. “My brother must have left it open on his way out. He’s supposed to be bringing me a latte, but he’s no doubt delayed.” She sighed.
“No problem. I’ll leave. But, do you have a business card?” Maybe the woman had a website she could order from. If the clothing in the window was any indication of the rest of the line, she’d no doubt drop a small fortune on a baby wardrobe. Once the pregnancy was confirmed of course.
The woman nodded, but after rummaging through stacks of papers on the desk and opening several drawers, she shook her head. “Apparently not.” She laughed. “Can you tell I’m new to this whole owning your own business thing?”
“That’s okay…a website?” She could remember if it was something easy.
The woman looked embarrassed. “A work in progress. Like everything else,” she said gesturing around the space. “I just started unpacking things—if you want to take a look, you’re welcome to, but I won’t be able to sell you anything today.”
“Oh no, that’s…” She stopped, for the first time noticing the baby in a sling against the woman’s chest. Obviously a few months old, but still so tiny, she barely saw a head of dark brown hair peeking out over the top. “Wow, you can work with the baby sleeping there like that?”
The woman laughed. “This little one could sleep anywhere, and yes, trust me—if I don’t work now while she sleeps, nothing will get done.”
Olivia swallowed hard. “Babies are pretty time-consuming, huh?” Was she crazy to think she could have both—the career and the family? She worked long hours at the office and most nights she was up past midnight reviewing court documents and preparing legal briefs. Hiring a full-time nanny had been on her list of things to do while pregnant, but that would only help during the daytime hours when she returned to work. What about nights?
Again, the lack of support system worried her. Most people had parents, brothers or sisters, close friends they could call on for help. What if she couldn’t do it all alone?
She squared her shoulders. She could.
The woman was shaking her head. “I mean, yes, they are, but I may spend too much time staring at her.” She laughed again, gently touching the top of the sleeping child’s head.
“I can see why.” Olivia moved closer to peek over the sling. So small. So precious. The little girl was sleeping with her tiny hands tucked beneath her chest, her tiny body falling and rising in a deep comforting sleep on her mom’s chest. “She’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. Anyway, please feel free to look at the items on those tables. There’s no real organization yet—boys and girls clothing mixed together—but they are labeled for size and price. I can hold anything you might want until we officially open.”
She nodded, tearing her gaze away from the baby. Would she ever look that comfortable and natural holding one? “Okay, thank you.” She really should leave to let the woman set up. She could come back. After all, she was getting a little ahead of herself.
Instead, she made her way toward the clothing on the table.
Sorting through the items, she could tell they were all handmade. Unique designs and gender-neutral color patterns were a welcome relief to the mass-manufactured Disney-logoed clothing she’d seen in every kids’ clothing store she’d ever walked past. Each piece was beautiful, and she couldn’t decide which she liked more—the boys’ items or the girls’. The jeans and hoodie sets with dinosaurs and puppies on the front were the coolest little boy clothing she’d ever seen, and the sundresses for little girls made her chest ache. It would be impossible to decide which were nicer. Not that it mattered; she didn’t care of it was a boy or a girl, as long as…
She paused.
Nope—she definitely wanted a girl. She picked up a pale yellow dress, the fabric covered in sunflowers, white piping around the collar and base. So soft, so tiny. The tag read NEWBORN, and the price was more reasonable than she would have expected for an independently owned boutique in a small town.
Just put it back.
She didn’t even know if she was pregnant yet. And she could have a boy.
She set it down and continued to look through the pile, but her gaze kept returning to it.
Damn.
“Could you hold this one, please?” she asked, carrying it toward the counter. She hated to leave it in the store even temporarily. The one-of-a-kind design would sell as soon as the doors officially opened, and with the less-than-organized chaos inside the store, she worried it might find its way back onto a sales rack by mistake.
The woman smiled. “I love this one, too. I made it for Lily, but she grew too fast on me. So it was made with a little extra love.” She grabbed a piece of paper, pen, and safety pin to attach her info to the dress. “Your name and phone number?”
“Olivia Davis. My cell number is three one zero…” She paused when the woman stopped writing and stared at her. “Something wrong?” Did she doubt she’d return? “I can pay for it in advance, too.” That would be better. In fact, maybe she could pay for it, take it now, and the woman could ring it in as a sale later. She didn’t require a receipt or anything. She opened her purse to retrieve her wallet, but the store owner shook her head.
“Oh no, no. Sorry,” she said, her cheeks reddening. “I’m…You’re just…My brother is Ben Westmore. I’m his sister—Becky.”
Right. Leave it to her bad luck to stumble back onto enemy turf. And here she was buying baby clothing.
Well, nothing said she was buying the dress for her own child. Maybe she was buying it as a gift, for all this woman knew. “Um…this dress is…”
Becky waved a hand, cutting her lie short. “None of my business. And here at Baby Chic, we have a strict customer confidentiality policy.”
Olivia smiled. “Thank you.”
Becky nodded, writing her name on the paper. “So that number was three one zero?”
Olivia gave her the rest of the number.
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“Great,” Becky said, safety-pinning the paper to the dress. “All set. We should be open in a week…Or I could have it shipped?”
“I’ll be around,” she said. She’d need to stop by the clinic to confirm her pregnancy and for her first three months of prenatal appointments, before Dr. Chelsey would refer her to an ob-gyn in Denver. “Thank you.”
“Sorry if my brother is giving you a hard time,” Becky said as Olivia turned to leave.
She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m used to dealing with stubborn, strong-willed athletes.”
“Yeah? How about cocky, annoying ones that still haven’t made it back here with my latte?” she asked with a smirk.
She laughed. “Them, too.” She could see the resemblance in the siblings—they had the same crystal clear blue eyes. In fact, Becky looked like a younger version of Beverly, obviously with the same sense of easygoing humor Olivia had enjoyed in the other woman. Ben Westmore’s sister was a woman she could like. So far, she liked the entire family—too much. It caused her heart to ache even more not having one of her own. “Thanks again,” she said as she headed toward the door. She paused and turned back. “So, that coffee place…”
Becky pointed down the street to the left. “Two blocks that way. You’ll smell the baked goods before you see the sign for Kelli’s Delicatessen.”
She nodded. “Thanks, Becky.” She’d already smelled the bakery goods, seen the sign shaped like a steaming coffee cup, and obviously had walked right past the temptation of the pastries and Ben Westmore without even knowing it.
Leaving the store, she glanced to the left, then went right.
Chapter 9
Here you are. One latte with extra foam,” Ben said, handing his sister the third latte he’d had to buy in order for it to be hot when he delivered it. She’d sent him on the caffeine run almost an hour ago.
But he couldn’t help it if everyone in town stopped him to talk. He was a local superstar, and he rarely spent a lot of time in Glenwood Falls. He wouldn’t even still be there if Jackson hadn’t finished the renovations on Ben’s lake house and he’d stuck around to see the place.
“This tastes like real cream,” she said, taking a sip.
“It is.”
“Ben! I’m trying to lose the baby weight.”
Wow, talk about ungrateful. “Fine. Give it back.” He would be buzzing on caffeine after three lattes in an hour, but his sourpuss sister didn’t deserve the drink if she was going to complain about a little fat.
She moved it out of reach. “I had Doritos for breakfast anyway. Neil isn’t back from a training mission for another few weeks—my diet officially starts tomorrow.”
His brother-in-law was an air force pilot and was currently training pilots in Afghanistan. Ben was happy his sister had her new venture to help keep her mind from worrying so much. “What about the store? When’s it going to be officially open?” he asked.
She glared at him. “You have two choices: hold your niece and shut your face, or set up my cash register.”
He immediately reached for the baby girl. “Hand her over. Jackson’s the handyman, not me.” Besides, he needed to take advantage of the opportunity to cuddle his new niece before she got bigger and inherited her mother and older sister’s mouthy gene.
“Someone say my name?” Jackson asked, entering the store.
“Finally! You were supposed to be here this morning to set this up. I already had to turn away a paying custo…” She stopped. “Never mind.”
Jackson folded his arms across his chest. “You know, I could leave and you could learn how to do this stuff yourself.”
Becky sighed. “No. Thank you for getting here so quickly,” she said through gritted teeth.
“That’s more like it.” Jackson said, ignoring the box of machine parts she extended toward him. Instead, he touched Lily’s cheek. “How’s the only nice female in the family?” he asked the baby girl, making her giggle.
“Jerks,” Becky mumbled.
Jackson laughed. “The rest of the lighting is done at the lake house,” he told Ben.
Their sister scowled. “You’re late because you were working on Ben’s house—one he won’t need until…”
Jackson silenced her rant by heading toward the door.
“No! I’m sorry, okay…come back,” Becky said. “Just please get this set up today.”
Jackson checked his watch. “Okay…but it can’t take longer than an hour—Abby, Ben, and I are having dinner at the lake house.”
Ben frowned. “What? No. I’m heading back to the city. I have a game to play tomorrow night and a practice first thing in the morning.”
“Is everyone in this family ungrateful?” he muttered. “I just got all that shit done for you in record time in case your lame playing gets the Avalanche kicked out of the playoffs this round—again—and you need a place to sulk in your underwear.”
Ben switched the baby to the other arm so she wouldn’t see his less than nice hand gesture. “Fine. Dinner at the lake house. I’ll barbecue steaks. Becky, you in?”
“Can’t. Look at this place. I can’t keep turning away customers.”
“Who came by today?” Jackson asked.
Her cheeks reddened and she was uncharacteristically silent as she avoided their eyes. “No one special…Anyway, get to work.” She took Lily from Ben. “And you,” she added, “try not to be such a jerk.”
His eyes wide, Ben shot Jackson a look as his sister disappeared into the back room. “What the hell did I do?”
“You breathe, man. With women, that’s all it takes.”
* * *
Olivia tightened her grip on the paper shopping bags she carried across Main Street. Where had she parked? She thought her car was directly across from the deli…She switched the bags in her arms, struggling under the weight. Maybe picking up the items she needed in Glenwood Falls instead of waiting until she got back to Denver hadn’t been the best idea.
“A little out of the way for grocery shopping, isn’t it?” a voice said behind her.
She shut her eyes and smothered a sigh. God, that voice, so rich and smooth, made her insides do stupid things. Though this time, she’d wandered onto his home-turf, and his sister had warned her he was around. She should have gotten out of there sooner.
Especially after Dr. Chelsey had gushed about the town hero while he’d performed the implantation. Apparently, Ben hadn’t been at the clinic to donate seed but instead to sign hockey gear for a charity auction. Only a boy who never forgot where he came from would take time from his playoff schedule to do that, the doctor had said, pride in his voice.
She wondered whether or not anyone’s feelings about Ben had changed or would change as more news about his current bad decision surfaced in the media, and she found herself hoping they didn’t.
Damn. Why couldn’t he have been just another faceless, arrogant opposition? That would have made her job so much easier. Not for the first time since meeting him did she regret getting involved with this case.
She turned around slowly and spotted her car half a block away. “Hi,” she said tightly. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a black sweater that hugged his chest and biceps, he looked as amazing as he’d looked in the tuxedo. She suspected he made his hockey jersey look good, too. She averted her eyes and stepped around him.
“Are you stalking me?” His tone was suspicious as he blocked her path and bent lower to meet her gaze.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it? So you’re not trailing me to get more info for the case?”
“Tell me you’re kidding.”
“The only other thing I can reason is that you were desperate to see me.”
Oh please. She should let him believe it was an intel mission. Unfortunately, if it were, she’d have discovered nothing but good things about him. “None of the above.”
He peered inside the paper bags in her arms. “So, what then? They ran out of pickles at the supermarket in Denver?”
he asked, shooting her an odd look.
She quickly moved the bag out of his view before he could also notice she’d stocked up on each and every brand of home pregnancy kits. Plus signs, two lines, the word yes in the window—couldn’t get much clearer than that, probably the only one she needed really. But, when the time came, she knew she’d have to see it all to believe it.
And, well, the pickles were for the cravings…whenever they started.
After all, she didn’t have a devoted and caring husband to run out when a craving attack struck in the middle of the night, now did she?
She’d have picked up ice cream, too, but it wouldn’t have survived the drive from Glenwood Falls.
His intense gaze continued to make her uncomfortable, and when the mild, warm breeze carried the scent of his familiar cologne closer, she needed to get away. Her momentary panic when she heard his voice at the clinic had spoken volumes—she wasn’t immune to Ben Westmore’s charms, not even close. She just wanted to get this case settled and put all thoughts of him behind her. With any luck, her life was about to get complicated—in a good way—and she couldn’t lose sight of what was important to her. “I like pickles,” she mumbled with a shrug, heading toward her vehicle.
Ben followed. “Do you have friends…family out here?” he asked.
“No.”
“A client?”
Reaching the car, she set the bags onto the passenger seat and slammed the door. “No.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, but a woman’s voice crossing the street toward them stopped him. “Oh my God—Olivia! What are you doing out here?”
Her former client Abigail Jansen. Great. A reunion. Right when she wanted to get home to put her legs over her uterus (it was supposed to help with the implantation), eat a pickle (to proactively ward off any cravings), and take a pregnancy test (just in case). She forced a smile. “Hi, Abigail, how are you?”
“Wonderful. Engaged to this troublemaker’s brother,” she said, nodding toward Ben.
The troublemaker’s eyes were burrowing a hole in her forehead, so she didn’t look at him. “Congrats, that’s great.”
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