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  “I get it,” Willow told her. “He violated those secret dreams you’re not supposed to have. It wasn’t romantic and perfect and he doesn’t love you.”

  “I refuse to have a weak side,” Julie said. “I’m tough.”

  “You’re human,” Willow said.

  “But it was romantic,” Marina said.

  Julie rolled her eyes. “Here we go.”

  “It’s true,” her baby sister insisted. “You get married because you have to, then you fall madly in love. It’s fabulous.”

  “She’s insane,” Julie muttered.

  “At least he was willing to do the right thing,” Willow said. “I know he was totally in the wrong on your date. Lying like that. But you know, I kind of don’t totally blame him. It’s really that Todd Aston’s fault. He’s the one who was too big a jerk to show up and talk to you himself.”

  Julie thought they were both rats. “Ryan had his own agenda. Don’t make him into the hero of the night.”

  “I won’t, but maybe there’s a chance he’s not all bad.”

  “A tiny one.”

  “So you won’t consider his proposal?” Marina asked.

  “Not even on a bet. It would be dumb to marry a man I barely know just because I’m pregnant.”

  There was a sound from the doorway. Julie looked up to find her mother standing there.

  This was so not how she wanted to tell the news.

  Willow and Marina disappeared into the back of the house. Julie stayed on her stool and watched her mother make coffee.

  “It’s decaf,” Naomi Nelson said as she flipped on the switch.

  “Thanks.”

  Her mother turned to face her.

  Naomi had run away with her one true love when she’d been just eighteen. She’d been pregnant and Julie’s birth had been followed by two more babies in the next two years. Naomi had been all of twenty-five the first time her husband had left.

  Julie remembered very little of that day, except her mother’s crying. She’d been six and had just started the first grade. She’d brought home a picture she’d done in class, but her mother had been too sad to look at it. From that day on, she’d never been able to work on a school art project without remembering her mother’s tears.

  “So,” her mother said calmly. “What’s new?”

  “Oh, Mom. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out that way.”

  “Did you mean for me to find out at all? You’re pregnant, Julie, and you didn’t tell me.”

  Naomi was slim, pretty and not yet fifty. Yet suddenly, she looked older than Julie had ever seen her. Her blue eyes were dark with emotion, but hurt rather than anger.

  “I’m sorry,” Julie repeated. “I was going to, I just didn’t know how to say the words. I didn’t plan this. In fact I messed up big time.”

  “Did you think I’d judge you?” her mother asked. “When have I ever done that?”

  Julie shifted uncomfortably on the chair. “I don’t usually screw up like this.”

  “Then you’ll need some help getting through it. What happened?”

  “I went on the date with Todd.”

  Her mother shook her head. “I thought you girls had decided not to do that.”

  “We had, but it seemed so important to Ruth and it was only one date.” Julie stopped. “Mom, no one blames you for what happened with your mother.”

  Ruth had not approved of Naomi’s relationship with Jack Nelson. When Naomi had run off with him, Ruth had cut her daughter out of her life.

  “I appreciate that. I don’t blame myself either. So the baby is Todd’s?”

  “Not exactly.” Julie explained how Ryan had taken Todd’s place and how she’d been swept away. “He wanted to teach me a lesson. He was playing me for a fool. Now he says he’s sorry and he thinks we should try to have a relationship. Honestly, how can I ever trust the guy?”

  Her mother was quiet for a few seconds. “I don’t know if you can. Do you want to?”

  Did she? “Maybe. Sometimes. I don’t know. We’re having a baby together—there’s a complication.” Julie stopped and smiled. “Mom, I’m having a baby.”

  Her mother moved close and hugged her. “I know. How do you feel? Are you happy?”

  Julie leaned back and touched her arm. “I am thrilled beyond words. I never thought about having kids except in the abstract, but now that I’m pregnant, I’m really excited. I want this child. I can’t believe how much.”

  “You were never one to explore your softer side,” her mother said. “You always felt you had to be in charge and take care of everyone else. There wasn’t a whole lot of energy left over for you to think about yourself. I’m glad you want the baby. You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”

  The unexpected praise made her eyes fill with tears.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, feeling awkward and grateful at the same time. “You’re my role model. You did great with us. We can’t have been easy, what with you on your own.”

  As soon as she said the words, she wanted to call them back.

  “I wasn’t on my own,” her mother said. “Your father was here.”

  “A few weeks a year,” Julie said before she could stop herself. “Mom, come on. I know you love him, but he wasn’t a good husband or a good father.”

  Her mother bristled. “He’s still your father. You will talk about him with respect.”

  “Why? I don’t get it. I’ve never understood why you let him come and go as he pleases.”

  “It’s your father’s nature. He’s restless. But that doesn’t make him a bad man.”

  “It doesn’t make him a good one either.”

  Julie wondered why she bothered. They’d had this same discussion a hundred times before. She would never understand how her mother could give her heart to a man who thought so little of her that he would disappear for months at a time. Then he’d return with gifts and wild stories, staying just long enough to convince everyone that this time was different, that this time he would stay. Only he never did.

  Julie had stopped believing in him a long time ago but her mother led with her heart.

  “He’s not a man to be tied down,” her mother said quietly. “I’ve accepted that. I wish you could. This will always be his home and I will always be his wife.”

  “I can’t do that. I can’t understand him and I won’t forgive him.”

  “Having a child changes you,” her mother told her. “It changes everything.”

  Julie knew it wouldn’t change her enough to see her father’s view of the world, but that didn’t matter. She shifted the subject to something less divisive.

  “Ryan thinks we should get married,” she said.

  “What do you think?”

  “That he’s crazy. We’ve had one date. Okay, it went really well until he admitted he was a lying rat, but that’s not enough to build a life on.” She looked at her mother. “You’re going to tell me I should marry him, aren’t you?”

  “I’m going to say that he’s your baby’s father and that you need to meet him at least halfway.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  Her mother smiled. “That’s mature. I’m so proud.”

  “Mo-om.”

  “Julie, life is about compromise. What Ryan did was wrong. If he’s really the jerk you say, then why is he going to all this trouble to convince you he’s sorry? Jerks don’t bother with things like that. And how is marrying you a win for him? If he was only interested in the victory, he’s already slept with you.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I’m just saying that men who are into the conquest for the sake of numbers don’t hang around. He’s hung around. He says he wants to be a father to his child. That’s not a bad thing. You don’t have to marry him. You don’t have to do anything. But you might want to think about getting to know him. Start there and see where it goes. Maybe he’s secretly a good man.”

  “You think?” Julie asked. “With my luck?”

 
; Her mother’s words made sense, but Julie so didn’t want to go there. She wanted to stay mad. It was safer. Getting to know Ryan meant putting herself at risk. What if she started to believe in him? He would only hurt her.

  “Not every man is Garrett,” her mother said.

  “You want to bet?”

  Eight

  Ryan lived in a high rise condo that was all glass and steel. Julie was sure there had to be more to the construction because this was L.A. and earthquakes were a certainty. Regardless of what high-tech innovation kept the building standing, she was unimpressed by the modern coldness of it all. Sure, the location was great and the concierge service would take care of all the details of life, but she preferred her slightly scruffy neighborhood where lawns were normal and kids played on the sidewalk.

  Of course being critical of Ryan’s building was a fabulous distraction, she admitted as she stepped off the elevator and walked down the hall to his condo. She’d decided to take her mother’s advice from the previous weekend and get to know the man. She’d called him and suggested they get together, and he’d offered lunch at his place.

  She rang the bell. He answered right away.

  He seemed taller than she remembered, but maybe her brain was fuzzy from the shock of seeing him in casual clothes. The designer suit was gone. In its place were worn and faded jeans and a long-sleeved white shirt. Both emphasized his lean strength.

  His shirt was open at the collar, exposing a tanned chest and a light dusting of hair. She remembered touching him there, running her hands across his warm skin and feeling him react to her caress. Of course she’d pretty much touched him everywhere, and that memory playground was a place she wanted to avoid.

  “You made it,” he said. “Come on in.”

  “It wasn’t that hard to find.”

  “I thought you might change your mind,” he admitted. “After last time.”

  Right. Last time. Their fight in her office, because he’d proposed. Just thinking about it made her angry enough to spit, although honestly, she’d never spit in her life. But if anyone was going to make her, it was Ryan.

  Still, she wasn’t here to argue with him. “You said on the phone we could pretend that never happened.”

  He smiled. “You’re right. So this is me pretending. Come on in.”

  He stepped back and she entered the foyer. The shock was instant. They were the only living things in a room of glass and metal.

  “I think it’s important we get to know each other,” she told him, deciding it was polite to ignore the stark surroundings. “The baby isn’t going away and neither are you. So here we are.”

  He smiled. “But you’d like me to go away.”

  “It would uncomplicate my life.”

  “Boring isn’t better.”

  “I’m not talking boring,” she said. “Just a few less surprises.”

  “I’ll try to keep them at a minimum. So we’re having a truce with lunch?”

  “I’m willing. We’ll think of it as a spicy side dish.”

  His dark gaze settled on her face. “Meaning I shouldn’t mistake your pleasant conversation for forgiveness?”

  She’d hoped they could avoid discussing what had happened, but maybe that was impossible. “I’m working on it.”

  “I understand. You’re not easy. I respect that.”

  Despite her nervousness, she laughed. “Apparently I am easy. That’s what got me into this position.”

  He took a step toward her and lowered his voice. “You’re not easy—I’m irresistible.”

  “Why doesn’t that make me feel any better?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said, leading the way through the foyer. “At least it feeds my ego, which I always appreciate.”

  “I can imagine,” she murmured.

  “Come on. I’ll give you the tour.”

  She followed him out of the foyer and into an open living space. His unit was on the corner, so he had two walls of glass, giving him a perfect view of Hollywood, the Hollywood Hills and to the east, in the distance, the skyline of downtown.

  Here the predominate color was gray, accented with wood tones and bright splashes of red and orange from a large canvas of very abstract art. The end tables and dining-area table were glass and steel. The sofa and chairs, a medium gray. The walls were a lighter shade of the same. The hardwood floors and leather ottoman provided the only hint of warmth.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  She set her purse on an Ultrasuede-covered chair. “It’s, um, very modern.”

  “Not your thing?”

  “Not really.” And based on the little she knew about Ryan, she would guess it wasn’t his thing, either.

  “I was dating a decorator when I moved in. She offered and I took the easy way out.”

  Ah, so it wasn’t his style. Funny how that made her like him a little.

  He led the way into the kitchen. It opened onto the rest of the room and was all hard surfaces done in gray. Concrete countertops, various shades of gray in the polished glass tile backsplash, stainless appliances.

  “You need to get a couple of plants,” Julie said as she took the bar stool he offered on the far side of the island. “Something green and bushy and alive. Aren’t you afraid all this modern stuff is going to suck the life out of you?”

  “It’s okay,” he said with a shrug. “It’s easy to keep clean.”

  She grinned. “You would know this how?”

  “The cleaning service has mentioned it a few times. That and the fact that I don’t have pets.”

  “I’ll bet you mostly eat out, you’re rarely home, you don’t have big, loud parties. You’re the perfect client for them.”

  He stood on the other side of the island and began removing things from the built-in refrigerator.

  “How do you know I don’t have big parties?”

  “Your sofa and chairs are in perfect condition. Nothing crunchy or wet has been dropped on them. Parties are messy.”

  “Good point. You’re right. No parties.”

  Just a parade of women, she would guess. Even ignoring his sob story about women coming on to him because of his money, Julie knew Ryan was impressive enough to entice the ladies all on his own.

  He carried a package of raw chicken breasts, fixings for salad, basil, some jars and bottles she didn’t recognize and—she blinked to make sure she wasn’t seeing things—a cookie sheet with prepared bread dough on it.

  Was he serious?

  “You’re cooking?” she asked, trying to sound less surprised than she felt.

  “I said I’d make us lunch.”

  “I thought you meant reservations.”

  “Would you rather go out?”

  “No. This is great. Shocking, but great.”

  “You don’t cook?”

  “I can prepare a few basics. I don’t totally live on takeout and frozen dinners. But I don’t make anything that requires baking or takes this many ingredients.” She rested her forearms on the counter. “So what are we having?”

  “A goat-cheese-and-arugula salad, followed by a grilled-chicken sandwich with a pesto sauce on warm focaccia bread, with fresh berries and crème anglaise for dessert.”

  Color her hungry, she thought as her stomach gave a rumble.

  “Impressive. Let me guess. You dated a chef.”

  “Hey, that’s a little judgmental. The summer Todd and I were twenty, our parents took us on a Mediterranean cruise for a month. We would rather have hit Europe on our own, but they insisted, so we went. It was a small ship with not much to do and nearly everyone on it was retired. I think the captain was afraid Todd and I would start trouble because he arranged for daily cooking classes. I hated the first couple, but then I got into the whole thing. Now I cook.”

  Impressive, she thought. “And Todd?”

  Ryan grinned. “He flirted with the cocktail waitress.”

  He turned on the oven, set a grill pan on the six-burner stove, then seasoned two chicken b
reasts. After collecting a small but powerful-looking food processor, he rinsed off the basil, then dried it with a towel.

  “You’re really cooking,” she said. “I’m sorry, but this is very unusual for me.”

  “You should see what I can do with a potato.”

  It wasn’t a side of him she would have expected. With his money and easy good looks, he could have spent his life ordering room service.

  As he sprinkled various spices on the bread dough he’d flattened on a cookie sheet, she found herself getting caught up in the way he moved his hands—the confidence and finesse. Without wanting to, she remembered those hands on her body. For a guy who wore a suit and tie, he was very good at manual labor.

  And she was an idiot. This was not a good time for R-rated flashbacks. She was here to get to know the father of her child. Oh, but if things were different she would be all over him like mascara on silk.

  The bread went in the oven, the chicken went on the grill pan and then he walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher with a pinkish tea mixture, sliced lemons and ice cubes.

  “Herbal,” he said as he poured them each a glass. “No caffeine.”

  “Thanks.” She sipped. The flavor was more citrus than tea, but it was nice. “It’s good.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Okay, you win. I’m officially confused. Is this really you?” she asked.

  “Want to see some ID?”

  “You know what I mean. You’re…”

  “Normal?” he offered.

  “Yes. Normal. Nothing like the high-powered entrepreneur who hates women.”

  He winced. “I don’t hate women. I like them.”

  “As long as you can teach them lessons.” She held up her hand. “Sorry. I’m breaking the rules. Let’s just say this is an interesting side of you. And now we can move on to safer topics. Tell me about what your life was like growing up.”

  He eyed her as he tore up the arugula and dropped it into a bowl. “That could get me into trouble.”

  “How?”

  “Let me count the ways. But I’ll play along. Todd and I were born within a couple of months of each other so we’ve always been close. Our fathers are brothers, so we traveled together a lot, went to the same schools, hung out on vacations.”