Practicing Parenthood
Practicing Parenthood
Cara Lockwood
When opposing counsels attractAssistant DA Collin Baptista has a rule: never sleep with the enemy. He broke it once—with defense attorney Madison Reddy. Now Madison’s pregnant and Collin heads to her North Captiva retreat with a ring, prepared to do the right thing. What he’s not prepared for is her flat-out rejection.Madison may not think he’s ready to be a father, but Collin’s sure he can convince her otherwise. And when the couple find a lost goldendoodle puppy, they get plenty of opportunity to practice being a family. Maybe a secluded Florida island and a stray puppy can teach these two rivals to be a couple—and parents!
When opposing counsels attract!
Assistant DA Collin Baptista has a rule: never sleep with the enemy. He broke it once—with defense attorney Madison Reddy. Now Madison’s pregnant and Collin heads to her North Captiva retreat with a ring, prepared to do the right thing. What he’s not prepared for is her flat-out rejection.
Madison may not think he’s ready to be a father, but Collin’s sure he can convince her otherwise. And when the couple find a lost goldendoodle puppy, they get plenty of opportunity to practice being a family. Maybe a secluded Florida island and a stray puppy can teach these two rivals to be a couple—and parents!
CARA LOCKWOOD is the USA TODAY bestselling author of more than seventeen books, including I Do (But I Don’t), which was made into a Lifetime Original movie. She’s written the Bard Academy series for young adults and has had her work translated into several languages around the world. Born and raised in Dallas, Cara now lives near Chicago with her two wonderful daughters. Find out more about her at caralockwood.com (http://www.caralockwood.com), friend her on Facebook, Facebook.com/authorcaralockwood (https://Facebook.com/authorcaralockwood), or follow her on Twitter, @caralockwood (https://twitter.com/caralockwood).
Also By Cara Lockwood (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d)
Island of Second Chances
Shelter in the Tropics
The Big Break
Her Hawaiian Homecoming
Boys and Toys
Texting Under the Influence
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Practicing Parenthood
Cara Lockwood
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08290-7
PRACTICING PARENTHOOD
© 2018 Cara Lockwood
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
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“So? It’s mine, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Madison sighed. She braced herself for the lecture.
“That’s what I thought,” Collin said, looking eager...and even...excited? That took her by surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want the baby. He’d been all hands and mouth that one night they spent together, but then the next day, it was as if she didn’t exist. Now he liked the idea of her carrying his baby? Maybe she’d been wrong about him. Maybe he wasn’t the hard-nosed prosecutor without a heart.
He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. He put down his backpack on the terra-cotta stone tiles of the foyer, and then turned to her.
“If it’s mine, then we need to do this.” He flipped open the black box lid, revealing a brilliant solitaire diamond that caught the sunlight and sparkled like fire. Suddenly, all coherent thought fled her mind.
Collin Baptista was asking her to marry him.
Dear Reader (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d),
I’m excited to share with you my new book, Practicing Parenthood, a story about how sometimes the best way to learn how to love is to dive in, headfirst.
After Collin Baptista has a night of fiery passion with opposing counsel Madison Reddy, neither believe it’s a relationship with legs. But then Madison discovers she’s pregnant, and Collin surprises her by proposing. Madison, however, has no intention of getting married just to get married. Instead, she heads to her uncle’s beach house on beautiful North Captiva, Florida.
Collin follows and he and Madison find a stray puppy on the island and adopt him, and in the process discover they have a long way to go to learn to be parents.
I recently adopted a goldendoodle (half poodle, half golden retriever) myself that my daughters named Teddy as well (since he, too, looks like a teddy bear), and so I knew firsthand the difficulties of having a puppy, and it reminded me of how similar puppies and babies can be. You can’t turn your back on either one for a minute!
I loved the idea of a couple at odds coming together and learning to be parents while fostering a puppy and realizing that they are stronger together as a team. Sometimes, the biggest obstacles to love are the ones we put in our own path.
Because this is my last Harlequin Superromance title, I also wanted to thank you, the reader. It’s been an honor and a privilege to write for you. I hope you enjoy Practicing Parenthood as much as I enjoyed writing it.
All my best,
Cara
For Hana, Miya, Sophia, Pete and Sarina, the true joys in my life who let me practice parenthood every day.
Contents
Cover (#u9d4d297d-5246-5686-8b17-8c41dee2d762)
Back Cover Text (#u33ad072e-b290-5f2c-b0a4-0b1a0f6ac11b)
About the Author (#u3a49a4fa-78fb-558f-b422-f78370eafa39)
Booklist (#u2908d0b5-f253-5b8b-8881-3aa5d64bd95a)
Title Page (#uade3aabc-cc39-5a40-9b0a-02d4f380d352)
Copyright (#u51713e0f-90a0-5948-ac6e-0ccfc38148a6)
Introduction (#u9f960c4e-e0c2-529c-8ca5-9acf8c6b0381)
Dear Reader (#uae267036-7b50-5b5b-b6b0-b9d11970212a)
Dedication (#u32f17b1a-e807-5c73-9520-0c0fb04f3494)
PROLOGUE (#u8211cb0d-87c8-56f3-82aa-87b293ced122)
CHAPTER ONE (#u17a25248-da0a-54a8-bdcf-5179c325e697)
CHAPTER TWO (#u76ead913-92b9-5284-ae4b-e4cbc9cad071)
CHAPTER THREE (#uc585b412-b368-5eef-8f6f-6c368c7439e7)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u020874d1-a3cf-562e-9498-f3a9715fd648)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ufdd7f463-d1ba-5bb7-90b0-9992388f9715)
CHAPTER SIX (#u2fba143a-9346-5f7d-a788-896d9cdfa9b6)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d)
COLLIN BAPTISTA SLID through the metal detectors at the Lee County courthouse, grateful for the cool air-conditioning that fought off the humid air of southwest Florida. He grabbed his keys and wallet from the conveyor belt and nodded at Joyce, the armed guard who wore her hair in tight braids. She was a regular, like all the staff he saw almost daily at the courthouse.
“Looking good today,” she told him, her eyes sliding down the length of the new dark suit that fit him like a glove, a splurge he’d allowed himself after winning that high-profile murder trial last month. He patted the top of his thick black hair, courtesy of his Filipino mother, a contrast to his green eyes and the lopsided, roguish smile from his Irish dad. Collin was anything but boy-next-door, but he could command a courtroom with persuasive arguments alone, one of the many reasons he hadn’t lost a case in two years working as a prosecutor for the state attorney’s office.
Still, he felt nerves dance in the pit of his stomach, but they had nothing to do with the hearing this morning, which was a routine case—a drunk driver who’d smashed his car into a tree but thankfully hadn’t hurt anyone. Yet. Collin planned to take the driver’s license to teach him a lesson. That was an open-and-shut case, something he could do with his eyes closed. The man’s blood alcohol had been three times the legal limit. No, what made him anxious was the thought of seeing Madison Reddy again.
Madison. Her dark thick hair, her light brown nearly hazel eyes... The curves that simply didn’t quit. Her father’s family had immigrated from India, her mother’s side was from Scotland. She was biracial like he was, and the only woman he knew of who could make an off-the-rack gray suit and sturdy heels look almost pornographic. He’d been haunted by her eyes for a year, and even more so now since they’d fallen into her bed two months ago after happy hour gone wrong.
Or, he thought, very, very right.
Collin walked through the courtroom and found he was early; no one sat at the defense table. He felt a tug of disappointment. He’d wanted every extra minute before or after the hearing to see her. That she wasn’t waiting for him left him feeling a little empty.
You were the one who didn’t call her, a voice nagged inside his brain. You were the one who deliberately avoided her these past couple of months.
He’d told himself he hadn’t called because he was worried about violating the state attorney’s policy of not sleeping with the opposing counsel. He could’ve gotten around that, he supposed. But he knew the real reason ran deeper than that. He liked Madison. He liked her too much. He had career plans that didn’t include staying in Fort Myers, and if he started a serious relationship with her, he’d be tempted to toss those ideas out the window.
He only had three rules in life: 1) Don’t lose; 2) Bad guys deserve more than the book thrown at them; and 3) Never sleep with the enemy (in other words, defense attorneys). He’d broken one of his three cardinal rules for Madison. That was how amazing the woman was.
In his opinion, most defense attorneys were liars or exaggerators, relying on smoke and mirrors rather than facts. Every prosecutor felt that way. He’d vowed never to go to bed with one of them. Yet, Madison had somehow managed to sneak past all his defenses. She stood by her own set of principles and wasn’t afraid to give him a piece of her mind.
Instantly, afterward, he realized how reckless he’d been. If word got out that he’d slept with opposing counsel, it would tarnish his career and hers.
They’d faced off on a number of different cases, including one that involved a fairly high-profile white supremacist who’d tried to murder a black man but had ended up shooting a twelve-year-old girl by mistake. After their one night together, he’d avoided her steadfastly for a couple of months. Yet, as much as he tried to forget her, he kept thinking about her smooth legs, soft stomach, her light brown eyes alight with mirth. It was only his career that kept him from picking up the phone and calling her.
But none of that mattered now. He wasn’t going to be her opposing counsel for much longer.
He sat at the prosecutor’s table and opened his briefcase, checking out the letter one last time. He’d accepted a job at the US attorney’s office in Miami, a huge promotion, beginning in four months. Not bad for a kid whose father went to prison for drugs when Collin was just two and died there when Collin was ten. He was proud of being a success despite the odds—son of a single mom and raised in the poorest of poor neighborhoods. Sure, he was a hard-nosed, hard-charging prosecutor, but life had never given him any real breaks. He’d had plenty of temptation to run drugs, to steal, to cut corners—but he’d never done any of it. He’d worked the worst jobs on janitorial staffs at two in the morning to put himself through college and law school, and eventually he wanted to be the highest prosecutor in the land, the attorney general. But for now, he’d accept a position as a federal prosecutor in Miami.
Collin planned to take some time off before then. This was his last case before he took an extended sabbatical. And the months he wasn’t working as a prosecutor, he wanted to spend with Madison, getting to know those curves he fought to remember through the fuzz of alcohol he’d consumed that night. He glanced at the defense table. Where was she?
Then attorneys from her firm, Reddy, Chester and Todd, arrived. Collin recognized one of them, Matt Todd, a guy he’d gone to law school with. Collin momentarily felt disoriented. Where was Madison? Surely, she hadn’t left the firm. Her uncle was a partner and there were rumors he’d make her a partner one day, too.
“Matt? I thought Madison was on this case,” Collin said, getting up to shake Matt’s hand.
“Not anymore,” Matt answered, trying to balance a briefcase and a large Starbucks cup while clasping Collin’s hand. “You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?”
“She’s on sabbatical.” Matt placed his briefcase and coffee on the defense table. “Rumor has it she’s in the family way.” Matt lowered his voice as if this were the antebellum South when polite company refused to talk about pregnancy.
“Pregnant?” Collin felt like he’d been slapped. “How far along?”
Matt shrugged. “How should I know? All I can tell you is she was granted a few months off to figure it all out. At least, that’s the rumor. Everybody’s calling it a health issue, so it may be cancer for all we know...”
Matt continued to talk, but Collin was barely listening. Madison was pregnant? Collin remembered that they’d used a condom, although little good it had done them since it had broken sometime during the act. Or acts... He’d made the assumption she’d been on the pill because she’d told him, “Don’t worry about it.” Looked like he should’ve been worrying about it.
“...she gets to hang out on North Captiva for the summer, so it’s nice to be related to a partner.”
“What do you mean? She’s on North Captiva?”
“House-sitting for her uncle Rashad,” he said. “For the summer. That’s why I’m here, picking up her caseload while she has a health sabbatical or whatever.” Matt rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by the new developments, but Collin hardly noticed.
“The rumor is she’s pregnant, though?” Collin pressed. Suddenly the neckline of his crisp new shirt seemed too tight. Why hadn’t she told him if she was?
“That’s what Rashad’s paralegal said. She’s a notorious gossip, but she also sits outside the man’s office and has bionic hearing...” Matt shrugged again.
Collin felt hot and cold all at once. Madison was pregnant? With his child. Had to be his. She’d said that she hadn’t slept with anyone in more than a year...and something in his gut said Madison didn’t sleep around. She just wasn’t the type.
He needed to find out if it was true.
Because if she was carrying his baby, there was only one thing he could do.
He wasn’t going to be like his own father who had never been a true parent. The man who’d never bothered to marry his mother, even after she’d given birth to two children. No, he’d vowed to be the opposite of that man in every way possible. Then he remembered the timing. He had the next few months off. He’d get on a boat, head out to North Captiva and find out if Madison was pregnant or not.
Because if she was, there was no way he’d abandon his son or daughter. He’d have to marry her.
That was all there was to it.
CHAPTER ONE (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d)
MADISON REDDY CLUNG to the edge of the small ferry that was shuttling her from the Pine Island Transportation Center to North Captiva, a small island on the west coast of Florida, just north of Sanibel Island. Known for the big shells swept into the Gulf from the currents in the Atlantic and for its lack of cars, North Captiva housed three hundred residents. They navigated the four-mile long island via golf cart and bike. Madison’s uncle Rashad had been more than generous in giving her time off from her job and a place to stay for a few months while she figured out what she was going to do. Her uncle had married but never had children, and in some ways, he had adopted her as his own.
“Go there. Take a little time off,” her uncle had told her in his office when she’d revealed in tears that she was pregnant. “If you don’t want to have the baby, there’s an excellent clinic in Fort Myers. If you do, then that’s fine. You can spend your pregnancy there, have the baby and come back to the firm. Your job will be waiting for you.”
It sounded like a plan from a hundred years ago—hide an out-of-wedlock pregnancy, have the baby in secret and then pop back up in society. But frankly, Madison was just grateful that Uncle Rashad had saved the lectures and was simply letting her, as a thirty-year-old woman, make her own decisions.
Rashad had been like a father to her, ever since her father died when she was fourteen. Rashad was even more generous, she thought, than her father would’ve been, but that was how seriously he took his responsibility to look after her—and her mother.
Still, she did need some time off to work this out. Her brain felt like muddled mush, and she needed some distance and a few weeks to decide what she’d do next. Her gut already told her there was nothing to decide. She was going to keep the baby, but she had to figure out how.
“You can live with me, and we’ll raise her together,” her mother had offered over tea the previous afternoon. “Or him.” Her mom had retired from the firm last year, so she had ample time on her hands.
“Mom, I can’t...ask you to do that. You’ve earned your retirement.” More than earned it, being a single mom. Her mother, whose cool blue stare never left her face, tucked a strand of dark auburn hair behind her ear as she studied Madison.
“There’s no asking,” her mother had said as she leaned over the small table at the coffee shop and gave her only daughter a big hug. “You don’t have to ask me to do anything. It’s my pleasure. Whatever you decide, I’m with you.”
It had felt good to have her mom in her corner, but her mother had always been on her side, the two of them an inseparable team since her father died. Even with the support, though, Madison wasn’t sure how she’d make it work. Could she really ask her nearly seventy-year-old mother to watch a baby for fifty or sixty hours a week? It didn’t seem right. She could get a less demanding job at another firm, but then what? Less money? Now she had a baby to think about.
You could tell Collin, a small voice in her head whispered. Doesn’t he have a right to know?
She instantly swatted the annoying thought away like it was a mosquito. Tell him, so he has an opportunity to weigh in and insist she get an abortion? Forget it!
She assumed he’d be anti-baby. There wasn’t anything soft and fuzzy about the man, and he’d made it more than clear these last few months that he considered their one-night stand exactly that—one and done.
But right now, all she cared about was holding down her meager lunch of saltines and water. She clung to the ferry’s railing at the back of the boat, willing herself not to hurl as the crystal blue ocean sped by. Madison always prided herself on having a stomach made of steel; she never got food poisoning, and only once in her life ever had the stomach flu. She never even got a hangover. But...this...this was different.
Her stomach roiled and she leaned over the side of the railing but managed not to throw up. Not yet.
“Seasick?” asked a sympathetic elderly tourist sitting near her in the oversized pontoon boat, wearing a bright pink flamingo visor, raising her voice over the wind.
Madison’s face flamed as she hurried to wipe her mouth. This was so embarrassing. Seasickness? Never once in her life. “Uh, yeah,” she lied.
“Try to look at the horizon, that will help,” the lady offered. Madison nodded and then stared off into the distance, but she knew it would do no good.
Collin Baptista. She’d fallen victim to his green eyes, and the fit, muscular body that looked so good in those suits. Never mind that he was the most arrogant know-it-all prosecutor she’d ever met. Collin was all the things she hated about prosecutors—his full-of-himself, holier-than-thou attitude that somehow failed to rub juries the wrong way. He’d never met a defendant he thought might be innocent or, at the very least, deserve his sympathy. He’d once asked a jury to put James Miller, a nineteen-year-old kid with a partial scholarship to the University of Indiana, away for three years for shoplifting a pair of earbuds. Forget that the kid was stealing them as a Christmas present for his single mom who worked two jobs. True, he’d hit the security guard, who’d tried to stop him, although the guard had gotten away with just a black eye.
Collin had told the jury the kid was violent, but Madison thought the punch he’d thrown was a mistake he regretted. In some ways, they might have both been right; the kid could’ve gone on to be more violent the next time. Or he could’ve learned his lesson. Now, locked away in jail, he’d almost certainly become more violent in order to survive.
Madison saw the world in a hundred shades of gray, but Collin Baptista saw it in stark black and white. Guilty or innocent, right or wrong, no in-between. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen into bed with the man. But then again, she knew why: Jimmy Reese, the horrible white supremacist. They’d faced off as opposing counsel on that case, but in that one instance, they’d both agreed. The violent, hateful man needed to be in jail. The fact that they had common ground at all was a turn-on, one she hadn’t expected.
Besides, she knew herself. She was attracted to overconfident men, and Collin was their poster boy. He possessed unwavering confidence, an ability to command the room and a certain fearlessness. Once, when a convicted murderer got loose in the courtroom, he’d simply clotheslined the man as he made a run for the exit, laying him flat on the floor before the bailiff could even react. Nobody would ever accuse Collin Baptista of being a pencil-neck lawyer. He oozed alpha-male sex appeal, and she was the first to admit she liked it.
And she wasn’t the only one. He had a reputation for loving and leaving the ladies, had slept with half the female clerks in the courthouse. He was known for never being serious, never having a steady girlfriend, always playing the field. After their night together, when Collin pretended it had never happened, she ought to have seen that coming. She’d only been yet another challenge, the charismatic young prosecutor who had women falling at his feet. Still, the rejection had hurt her pride.
Just add it to the list of jerks I’ve slept with. Not that it was a big list, but still. If there was a jerk in the room, she’d find him every time.
She was not going let him know their one-night stand had resulted in a pregnancy. Sure, she could go after him for child support, but she wasn’t a charity case. She could take care of herself...and this baby. She just needed to work out a plan. He’d left her messages lately, but she’d doggedly refused to respond to them. He’d only said, We need to talk, which could mean anything, and besides, the last thing she wanted to do was be on the phone with the county’s most dangerous cross-examiner, known for his ability to eviscerate an unwilling witness. She knew if she talked to Collin, her resolve to keep the pregnancy secret would dissolve. Another wave of nausea hit her as she leaned over the side of the railing and lost the saltines she’d tried so hard to keep in her stomach. Baby, you’re making this really hard on us both, she mentally scolded. How am I supposed to feed you if you eject everything I eat?
She wiped her mouth with a tissue and sighed. Nobody ever mentioned that morning sickness could actually be morning, noon and night sickness. One more thing about pregnancy she never knew. Just like the bone-tired fatigue that would creep up on her at all hours of the day and the pregnancy hormones rushing around her body, inducing her to cry at the drop of a dime. She’d even gotten teary at a car rental commercial last night. Madison shook her head. The pregnancy was already making her soft.
If only her friends from high school knew. They’d voted her least likely to have a family and most likely to own a business by twenty-five. Madison had always focused on her career and made her personal life secondary. But Madison wasn’t about to apologize for her ambition. She wasn’t going to be like her mother: a stay-at-home mom who’d been completely unprepared for the workforce when her husband had suddenly died. They’d had several hard years, with her mother cleaning homes and working odd jobs, before her uncle helped her mom get paralegal training and then hired her in his own firm. Madison had watched her mother struggle and vowed never to be so unprepared. Family and kids weren’t her priority—financial security was.
The shore of North Captiva came closer as the small ferry approached the dock. Madison recognized the North Captiva Island Club, home to swimming pools, boat rentals and the island’s best restaurant. She saw the golf carts lined up in the small dirt parking lot near the office, the bright Florida sunshine bathing everything in a warm glow. She remembered the island from when she was a kid and her parents had taken her there on vacation, using her uncle’s house. Now, as an adult, she welcomed the getaway. Here, she could think. Figure out what she planned to do. Alone.
“Hope you feel better, dear,” the woman in the flamingo pink hat said as she moved past her to climb off the boat. Madison followed, and once her sneakered feet hit the wooden dock, she instantly felt better. Either it had been the boat making her morning sickness worse, or she was just relieved to be back in the place that held so many prized childhood memories. Uncle Rashad had been very generous to her mother and her, hosting them every summer, even after her father died. The clubhouse had received a new coat of paint since she’d last been to the island, a few years back, but otherwise, everything seemed the same.
Madison glanced at the line of golf carts parked near the tennis courts and didn’t see her uncle’s telltale silver four-seater, the one that looked less like a golf cart and more like a dune buggy. Usually the North Captiva club staff had everything waiting for guests, including transportation from the dock. Burly workers flexed their muscles as they took cargo from the ferry to the shore—crates of food, luggage, coolers. The island might be remote, but it was hardly rustic. As the crew unloaded her luggage and her plastic bin of groceries, Madison headed into the main office.
She saw Yvana Davis, the resort’s manager she adored and had known most of her life, standing behind the counter. The woman wore a uniform of a golf shirt and khakis, accessorized with sparkling dangle earrings and a colorful scarf around her head. There was no way Yvana was going to let the club dress code cramp her style. Now, however, a frown replaced her usual smile. She was trying to deal with what seemed to be an unruly tourist.
“But there are spiders,” cried the forty-something brunette, who wore a floor-length wrap dress and sparkly slip-on flats and held a quivering lapdog in her arms.
“Inside your house?” Yvana asked, raising a dark eyebrow and putting one hand on a generous hip. Yvana made eye contact with Madison and gave her a nod of recognition.
“No, outside,” whined the woman with the Boston accent. Madison, meanwhile, felt the nausea return. She didn’t know if it was because of the woman’s nasal voice or the fact that it was a little hot inside the office, but she was definitely feeling sick again.
Yvana pursed her lips. “Honey, this is Florida. We got bugs bigger than your dog. Hell, our bugs will eat that adorable little thing.”
Madison hid a smile. That much was true.
“Well, I’m just asking someone to spray,” the indignant woman said. “And...the garbage just... It just stinks. It’s thoroughly disgusting. The dumpster’s full of rotten fish and goodness knows what else, and it was full before we arrived...”
At the idea of fish rotting in the hot Florida sun, Madison’s stomach lurched. Please stop talking about trash. Or I’m going to hurl. Again.
She glanced around for a bathroom...a trashcan...but found nothing. I can hold it, she thought. I can will myself not to throw up... And the woman will stop talking about trash. Any minute now.
“Trash pickup isn’t till tomorrow,” Yvana said, tapping her pink nails on the counter and clearly starting to lose her patience.
“Well, something needs to be done. There’s rotten eggs in there, something that smells like spoiled meatloaf and probably some awful shrimp salad and...”
Madison lost it. Her reaction came hard and fast with no time to react. Even as she tried to cover her mouth, she threw up what little was left in her stomach—she was surprised there was anything—all over the tourist’s sparkly shoes.
“Oh...my Gawd!” shrieked the woman. “What on earth...” Her face twisted in revulsion.
“I am so very sorry. I...” Madison wanted to say she was pregnant, but she couldn’t get the words out, not with the angry woman glaring at her. “Let me see if I can help...” Madison moved forward but the woman batted her away with one hand.
“Get away from me!” she cried, backing off while clutching her dog.
Yvana obviously couldn’t resist, as she instantly emitted a cackle. “Well, goodness me. That is something. Want a tissue?” Yvana held out a tissue box to the tourist, who frowned at the offering as if it had spider legs. Yvana gave one to Madison instead.
“Maddie, here, child.” Her expression softened instantly. “You okay? You look like death warmed over!”
“I’m not contagious... I’m just...” She clutched at her mouth once more.
Yvana jumped into action, tugging a trash can from behind the counter up to her. “Here, honey.”
Madison grabbed the metal wastebasket. Luckily, nothing more came up.
“These were designer shoes. They’re ruined and...they cost $200 retail, and now...” The tourist stomped her feet.
“I’m happy to pay for them,” Madison said, wondering where she was going to find an extra $200. Her budget was tight, and even with the money she’d tucked away, she was about to take unpaid leave from work and she needed every dime she had.
The woman wasn’t placated. “I ought to sue,” she threatened. The tiny white dog in the crook of her arm barked as if he agreed.
“Careful,” Yvana warned. “This lady is one of the best lawyers in town. If you sue, you’re going to lose, sister.”
The tourist’s face grew more pinched. She opened and closed her mouth, seemingly at a loss for what to say. Her cheeks grew redder than a ripe tomato.
“Well, I’ve never had such poor service in all my life. Do I have to call your supervisor?” The annoyed woman hugged her little dog to her chest and delicately lifted one foot to shake off some of Madison’s vomit.
Madison just shook her head. Yvana didn’t have a supervisor. She damn near ran this place and nobody was foolish enough to go toe-to-toe with the woman who owned a fourth of the island and knew everyone. An older resident on the island had left his entire share to her when he passed away five years ago—she was the one who’d cared for him and he’d had no living children.
Yvana had a heart bigger than the Gulf of Mexico but also a temper that was legendary. You got on her good side, and Yvana would do anything for you, but get on her bad side, and you might not have your power turned on for days.
Yvana narrowed her eyes at the indignant tourist.
“Mm, hm.” Yvana gave her a once-over. “My supervisor is out,” she lied, since she was her own supervisor. “But I’ll write a note and make sure she gets it.”
“Well,” the tourist muttered. “I...”
Yvana glared at her and then turned back to Madison.
“Maddie, honey. Sit down before you fall down.” Yvana put her back to the other woman who, with nothing more to do, stepped out of her shoes and bent down to pick them up, careful to keep her fingers clean. She headed out of the office in a huff. Yvana ignored her and moved Madison over to a chair, then scurried over with the tissues she’d held out to her earlier.
Madison reached out as if to start trying to mop up the spill.
“No, no. Sit. I’ll call someone from the janitorial staff to handle that,” Yvana said.
“I am so sorry. God, how embarrassing. I normally don’t do this. I never get sick.” Madison sat down in the chair still feeling a little woozy as Yvana fetched an unopened water bottle from her desk and handed it to her.
“Not every day that you’re pregnant, either,” Yvana said, tilting her head to one side.
Madison stopped mid-drink, stunned. “How did you know that?”
“Oh, I just know.” Yvana looked so serious that for a second Madison worried that she’d somehow begun to show, although her stomach was still flat. Yvana threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, I’m kidding, honey. Rashad told me.”
“Uncle Rashad! He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone!” Madison grumbled, wishing she’d been more explicit with her uncle about this being a private matter.
“Oh, he swore me to secrecy, don’t you worry,” Yvana said. “He just wanted me to know because he asked me to keep an eye on you. And by the look of things—” she nodded at the mess on the floor “—you might need a little bit of TLC.”
“I’m fine.” Madison wiped her mouth with a tissue. “I just need some rest and—if this baby will ever let me keep anything down—some food.”
“Soda water, then, and I might have something that could help settle your stomach. Something I ate when I was pregnant with my twin boys.” Yvana rolled her eyes. “Thought I’d about die from that pregnancy. I threw up right till the end of the second trimester. I never let those boys forget it, either.”
Yvana grinned, and Madison had to laugh. She shook her head and glanced out the window to see the tourist throwing away her shoes in a nearby trash can. Then the woman hobbled in the hot sand over to a waiting golf cart that a man—her husband, Madison presumed—was sitting in and got into the passenger seat, fuming.
“I should apologize to her again,” Madison said.
“You’ll do no such thing. One apology was enough for her. She’s been in my office every day since they got here, complaining about everything under the sun. She once came in here and complained about there being too much sand. On a beach. Can you imagine?” Yvana slapped her side. “She’s worse than my ex-husband. He’d complain about the heat if the sun was shining and the damp if it was raining. Never could be satisfied, just like that woman. That, Maddie, was pure payback.”
Madison smiled. She hadn’t heard anyone call her Maddie for a long time. It was a name reserved for people who’d known her since she was little, the nickname her father gave her when she was a baby. She’d visited North Captiva all her life, but it had been her special refuge after her father died. She and her mother had lived in her uncle’s house for nearly a year. She’d known Yvana most of her life and was grateful to the big-hearted woman who’d always looked after her.
“I didn’t see Rashad’s golf cart...” Madison said, nodding her head toward the window.
“No?” Yvana peered out. “Huh. I told Gus to get it, but he must be backed up today. Don’t you worry. I can drive you. The front office can watch itself for five minutes. But first, let me call someone to deal with this mess.”
* * *
YVANA EXPERTLY MANEUVERED the small tan-and-green golf cart emblazoned with the North Captiva Club logo through the sand trails of the island. A simple white post marked most turnoffs and to a visitor’s eye, easy to miss. Ahead of them, tourists who were new to the island studied a map, then scratched their heads. Yvana pulled over to help them find their way. Phone GPS didn’t work well here, and one sand-lined trail looked pretty much like another. As she waited, Madison craned her neck back to catch the sun’s rays, feeling comfortably warm and much less sick to her stomach. It must be the island weather, she thought. She was already starting to feel better. More hopeful.
Yvana asked the tourists if they needed help, but they waved her off, determined to find their own way.
“Tourists,” Yvana said as she waved at them and hit the gas. “They might get to their place before the end of the week.” Pity laced her voice. She took a sharp left then by a big white house with a wraparound porch, and a moment later, they were speeding along a little lagoon spotted with ducks and a couple of white cranes. Above them, a canopy of palm trees provided shade as they sped by in the little cart.
“Not any of my business,” Yvana said, “but you know what you’re going to do? About the baby?”
“I’m going to keep it. I’m not sure how. Mom offered to babysit, but I think that’s a lot to ask of her.”
“You got time to sort it out,” Yvana said, keeping her eyes on the road. “What about the father? What’s he doing in all this?”
Madison sucked in a breath. “Haven’t told him.” She thought of Collin’s smug face, his always-right smile. Won’t ever, either.
Yvana’s head swiveled, and she glanced at Madison’s profile.
“Is it because he’s the running type or the marrying type?”
Madison let out a long, tired breath. “I don’t know. Which one is the me-first type? Hell, me-first and me-only?”
Yvana chuckled. “Oh, then, well, that ain’t going to work at all. He’d get a rude awakening when he found out the baby always comes first.” The breeze ruffled her colorful head scarf. “But don’t you worry, honey. You’ll figure it out.”
Madison hoped so.
Yvana took a hard right onto a road nearly covered by brush, and a yellow daffodil hit her knee as they turned into her uncle’s long driveway. It almost felt as if they were ducking into some deserted rain forest, but then the path widened and she saw the sandy yard, the big blue two-story house on stilts, making it as tall as your average three-story building. Yvana swung the cart into the little circular sand drive, letting Madison off at the steps.
“Looks like the guys already brought your luggage,” Yvana said. Madison saw her suitcase and grocery tote sitting on the front porch near the front door.
“Thanks for the lift, Yvana.”
“No worries. And if you need anything, you call me, you hear? Anything at all. Pickles and ice cream, even.”
Madison turned and leaned into the golf cart and gave Yvana a big hug, tears pushing out from behind her closed eyelids. Damn these pregnancy hormones.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Yvana returned the hug. “You bet,” she said. “Take care of yourself. And I’ll be by later with that remedy I told you about. It’ll settle your stomach in no time.”
“Thank you,” Madison said once more, brimming with gratitude. Looking at Yvana’s smiling face, she couldn’t help thinking that everything would somehow be okay.
“See you later!” Yvana called. Madison nodded as Yvana took off around the circle. She walked up the front porch steps, a whole story’s worth, to accommodate the stilts. Most homes on the island included two livable stories, but stood three stories high. Flooding was common on the island, especially during hurricane season. She marched up to the front door, framed by full-length glass windows, her first objective being to put away the groceries she’d brought in a cooler from Fort Myers. Meantime, her stomach rumbled. If it wasn’t nauseated, it was hungry. Decide already, she thought. She didn’t know how much more of this yo-yo effect she could take. This was going to be a long nine months.
CHAPTER TWO (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d)
COLLIN SAT ON the ferry beneath the blistering afternoon sun and just wanted to be there already. He’d driven to the ferry station, parked and then taken an old passenger van down to the shore, where he’d boarded a small pontoon-style boat with about ten other tourists headed to North Captiva. He was currently sitting between a little boy kneeling on the seat and facing the water, hands on the edge of the boat as if he might fly off any second, and a teenager whose eyes had never left her phone. It was the only seat left, and he was lucky to have it, but now he simply wished the ferry ride to be over. He needed to see Madison.
Collin knew the baby was his. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew it. The second Matt had said Madison was pregnant, he’d felt that it was true. Sure, he could be wrong. Hell, Madison might not even be pregnant, but he trusted his instincts. Collin’s mother had been extremely superstitious; she’d claimed ESP—or what she called really good hunches—ran in their family. Collin had never put much stock in it. He didn’t believe in hocus-pocus, but he did believe in good instincts. That was exactly how he could tell a witness on the stand was lying—or about to lie. He’d become notorious for trapping shaky witnesses, dominating the cross-examination. Maybe that was the family hunch at work.
All he knew was that Madison was doggedly refusing to answer his calls. He’d left her a dozen messages, had texted, emailed—basically, he’d done everything but try to send her a telegraph. She was avoiding him, and he was going to find out why.
Collin glanced at a couple on the other end of the boat beneath the shade of the awning. The woman had a baby strapped to her in a sling, and her husband was making faces at the little one. He wondered how old the infant was—he or she was so tiny. He realized, with a start, that he’d only ever held his niece, but that was long after she was six months old and big enough to hold her head up—not like this fragile newborn across the way. He had no idea how to hold a baby that small. His niece, Sari, was six, loved knock-knock jokes and was easy to entertain. He’d missed the first half year of her life because his sister and her husband had been in the Philippines for work when she was born. Now, they were stateside again, and he’d spent the last four Thanksgivings at their house.
He reached into his pocket and felt for the small black velvet box there. He had a brand new one-carat princess-cut solitaire set in platinum inside. It probably wouldn’t fit Madison’s finger, but the salesclerk had assured him it could be sized. Collin knew the power of a big gesture, and he had one planned—although, the roses he’d bought at the grocery store stop-off before he’d reached the ferry were looking a little wilted in the heat. Not unlike me, he thought. He wore shorts and a polo, but he wished he had his swim trunks on so he could just jump into the bay and swim for it. The Florida sun was brutal today. It had beaten down on him mercilessly since he’d gotten one of the only seats in the sun. He swiped at his brow.
He’d been running through everything he planned to tell Madison when she swung open that door: Do me the honor of being my wife or Let’s be a family or This means we’re meant to be together. Suddenly, more sweat rolled down his temples. Was it the sun or were nerves getting to him? He felt jittery.
He texted his elder sister, Sophia. They’d been thick as thieves growing up, relying on each other as their single mom worked long hours to care for them after their father went to jail. It had been a poor childhood, and in some ways hard, but not an unhappy one. Sophia had made sure of that, even though she babysat him when she was barely more than a child herself. She could easily have slipped into poor choices, but instead she’d taken her responsibilities seriously, and she’d managed to make straight As. She’d pushed him to do better as well, which was the reason he’d opted for law school.
On the ferry... I’m nervous.
Collin had already talked to her about Madison and the baby and his plan the night before.
You have no reason to be nervous. Any woman would be lucky to have you.
Collin wasn’t sure that was true.
Yes, but she wasn’t exactly happy with me, remember?
Whose fault was that?
That is NOT helping.
Collin was beating himself up about the way he’d handled the aftermath of their night together. He’d not exactly been sensitive. Or, even nice about it.
Listen, guy-who-got-asked-to-the-prom-by-FIVE-different-girls, I think you’ll do fine. Really, I do. And what’s the worst that can happen? You offer to do the right thing and she turns you down? Then, you avoid a shotgun wedding, and it’s probably for the best.
Collin felt a pit in his stomach open up. That was not what he wanted, actually. He wanted a family; he wanted this situation to work out. It might not be the way he’d planned it, but as far back as he could remember, he’d wanted kids, a traditional family, like he’d never had. Sophia texted again.
You sure you want to do this? Propose to a stranger?
They weren’t exactly strangers. He remembered flashes of their night together—a melding of bodies, heat, desire. He recalled being wowed by her, that her body was even more perfect than he’d guessed. The fact that he might see that same body tonight sent a shiver of anticipation through him.
Besides, he knew couples who’d dated for years before tying the knot, only to get divorced half a dozen years down the road. You could live with a person for a decade and he or she could still surprise you, so why not marry a stranger?
I don’t have any doubt that we can make this work. I want a family. I want my child to be raised right.
Sophia sent him a heart face.
That’s why I love you, little brother. You’ve got a big heart. Don’t worry. You’ll do fine. She’s lucky to have you.
The sun relentlessly bore down on his head and Collin wondered if he should’ve worn sunscreen. He wiped his brow again as he saw the island before him grow larger. Almost there. The baby at the other end of the boat let out a cry. The mother bounced the child in her little sling, but the cries just got louder. Collin glanced at the dad, who helped the mother untangle the baby and then took him in his arms, but he wailed even louder. He wore a blue onesie, so Collin assumed he was a boy. No matter what they did, the baby just kept fussing, growing ever more red-faced and angry. Collin wondered why they couldn’t make him stop crying.
Then the mother lifted up her shirt and Collin glanced away, hoping to give her some privacy. Did Madison want to breastfeed? Didn’t doctors say that was healthier? He didn’t really know. He glazed over when that kind of news came on. His interest in breasts had nothing to do with babies or milk.
The boat landed at the dock with a little thump, and the passengers started to file out—all but the mother, who sat with her baby a little longer. Collin moved past, careful to keep his eyes averted as he stepped out onto the dock. The father of the baby struggled with the gear, and Collin lent a helping hand, picking up the stroller and assisting the father in maneuvering it down to the dock.
“Thanks,” the man said, looking tired and sporting deep dark circles under his eyes. Collin wondered when the man had last slept through the night.
“No problem,” Collin said. “Beautiful baby you have there,” he added, even though the baby’s head was covered in a burp cloth as he finished his afternoon snack.
“Yeah, good thing, too.” The tired dad shook his head. “They’re a handful.”
Soon I’ll have a baby, too. I’ll be just like this dad.
He glanced at the man whose shirt was wrinkled, his socks mismatched. Collin noticed a white stain on his shirt. Baby drool? Baby spit-up? The momentary unease left him, and he felt like his old confident self again. Collin had never met a challenge he hadn’t happily faced head-on. Not that women had ever been a problem, at least not since his freshman year of high school—after he’d had the growth spurt that launched him from five-one to five-eleven in a single year. He’d spent most of his twenties and, so far, his thirties leaping from one casual encounter to another. He hadn’t ever pursued a serious relationship, in large part because his job was so demanding. He barely had time for anything more.
But now, he’d have to make time. Somehow. He’d do it.
There was no way he’d ever be like his own father.
Collin remembered daycare, when the other kids were making gifts for their dads for Father’s Day and he’d been one of the few who hadn’t. The teacher had told him to draw a picture for his mom instead, but Collin never forgot the slow burn of embarrassment, feeling the hole in his life where his father should have been.
No. He wouldn’t do that to his son.
Because, oddly enough, he knew it would be a boy. That certainty had just come to him...
The other guests from the boat ambled over to the waiting golf carts, apparently regulars on the island. Probably homeowners here, he thought, as they seemed to know exactly what to do. He still found it weird that there were no cars on North Captiva.
The island was prettier than he’d expected. Colorful tropical flowers lined the dock and the sandy path leading to the parked golf carts. He could see tennis courts in the distance and signs that led to a large pool and bar.
Collin, at a bit of a loss, wandered into the front office. He’d looked up Madison’s uncle’s house in the public record, but he wanted to find out if he could rent a golf cart to get there.
Inside the office, he found a large amiable woman behind the counter, wearing sparkly, dangling earrings, a colorful scarf over her head and a big smile on her face. Her age was impossible to guess. Forty? Fifty? Her name tag read Yvana. He presented her with his most charming smile as he set down his backpack that held two changes of clothes and his laptop. He didn’t know how long he’d stay, but his plan was to convince Madison to come home with him.
She gave him a slow once-over in response, a sweep of judgment, and he could sense he met her approval.
“I’m Collin Baptista,” he said, leaning on her desk.
“You have a reservation, hon?” she asked him.
“Uh...no, not exactly.” This was where it might get odd. “So, I need your help... Yvana.”
The woman’s eyebrows rose, and he knew she was trying to decide whether or not he was worthy of her help. He was an excellent reader of people. Tread carefully here.
“Well, that depends on what you need.” Yvana studied him.
“I want to ask your advice. If you were going to propose to a woman, where would you do it?” Collin pulled the velvet box from his pocket and flashed the engagement ring.
Yvana fanned her face. “Oh, my, that is gorgeous! You sure you don’t want to just propose to me? That ring would look perfect on me.”
He laughed. “Don’t tempt me,” he said, and she laughed, too.
“Who’s the lucky girl?” Yvana tapped a bright fingernail on the counter.
Collin hesitated, wondering if he should be so forthcoming. But he knew he’d have to be. He needed her help.
“Oh, sugar, you can tell me. I’ve got to have the details if we’re going to make sure she doesn’t say no.”
Collin shrugged. What was the harm? He wanted Yvana’s help, and pretty soon he and Madison would be engaged, anyway, so what would it matter?
“Her name is Madison,” he said.
Yvana just stared at him for a second. “Madison Reddy?”
“You know her?” Collin couldn’t hide his surprise.
“I’ve known her for years. Since she was this big.” Yvana held up her hand about waist-high. Now she studied him even more closely, like a bug under a microscope. “You going to make her happy?”
“I plan to try,” he said honestly.
“Hmm.” Yvana nodded thoughtfully. “Does she know you’re coming?”
“Nope.”
Yvana put one hand on her hip. “So, you show up here without a reservation and a ring and think...you’re going to propose, just like that?”
The doubt on Yvana’s face made him pause.
“Uh...right. That’s right.” Collin nodded. He glanced out the window, as he saw a golf cart speed by. “Something wrong with that plan?”
Yvana shrugged one shoulder. “Oh, honey, that’s not for me to decide.” She chuckled, then picked up the phone. “Let me call her and see if she’s willing to see you.”
Willing to see me? Now Collin was definitely feeling anxious. He thought about all the times she’d refused his calls.
“How about you just tell me how to get to her house and I’ll surprise her? It’s number fifty-nine, Harbor Bend Road?” He pulled out the printout from his pocket, the result of his search for her uncle’s property.
“Oh, I know where it is.” Yvana picked up the phone and punched in the number. “Maddie, sugar?” she said.
Maddie? Collin had never heard her called that before.
“I’ve got a male visitor here for you. His name is...” She cupped the receiver with one hand. “What’s your name again, hon?”
“Collin.”
“Collin’s here. He wants me to take him to you, but I thought I’d...” She paused, listening. “Oh, I see. Mmm, hmm. Is that right? Well, now.” She studied him, frowning. What was Madison telling her? “Oh... I see.” She eyed him. “All right, then. Don’t you worry none. I can handle this.”
Was Madison refusing to see him? That didn’t compute with Collin. He’d driven all this way, paid for the ferry, lugged this one-carat perfectly cut diamond from Fort Myers—and it had never occurred to him that it might be a wasted trip.
“You take care of yourself, you hear?” Yvana said and then hung up. She focused her dark brown eyes on him.
“What was all that about?” Collin asked, but Yvana ignored him. Her body language made it clear that she had no intention of sharing any details.
“Well, how about you wait out there on that bench?” Yvana said sweetly, pointing to the bench near the line of parked golf carts bathed in North Captiva sunlight. “I’ll get Gus to drive you. He’s running a few patrons out to their houses, but he should be back in fifteen or so.”
“Maybe I could just walk?” he offered. He didn’t want to wait that long. The ring felt suddenly heavy in his pocket. It belonged on Madison’s finger.
“Oh, honey, you’d get lost.” She shook her head, then gave him a big smile. “Wait right there. Gus will come by. You sure you don’t want me to hold on to that ring for you?”
Collin chuckled. “No, I’d rather keep it, thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” The phone rang and Yvana picked it up. “Hello, North Captiva Club,” she sang. Collin let himself out, the cool breeze from the beach ruffling his hair. He looked at a line of tropical flowers. There were worse places to wait, he figured, as he headed to the bench in the shade. He slumped down and checked his watch. He’d come this far. What was another fifteen minutes?
CHAPTER THREE (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d)
COLLIN BAPTISTA WAS HERE.
Madison paced her uncle’s third-story deck in a panic. She bit her thumb as she glanced out over the treetops toward the ocean, which sparkled blue in the distance. Collin had found her. How? Did he know she was pregnant? God, she hoped not. Then again, she remembered that her uncle had spilled the beans to Yvana. Was he trying to play matchmaker with Collin, too?
No. He couldn’t do that. She hadn’t told him who the father was, after all.
Would Collin have been able to find out some other way?
She’d steadfastly refused his calls. Surely, he would’ve gotten the message that she wasn’t interested. Besides, why was he even interested? And why now? He’d been more than clear that he didn’t want a relationship. I don’t date defense attorneys. Wasn’t that what he’d said? No, he doesn’t date them. Just sleeps with them, that’s all, she thought bitterly. And then dumps them like garbage the very next day. She remembered how coldly he’d treated her. She got that it had been one night, but she had assumed he’d enjoyed it as much as she had. Obviously, that hadn’t been the case. She’d thought the sex had been...exceptional, and yet he’d treated her as if it had been the worst night of his life. Maybe it had been. That idea was painful. He hadn’t felt the connection, the spark that she had.
She ought to see him, but part of her felt scared. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep the baby a secret, and the anxiety of seeing him roiled her stomach so that her morning—now officially afternoon sickness—had returned. She told Yvana to stall him while she figured out what to do. She couldn’t flee; the next ferry wasn’t for an hour at least, and she’d have to walk right past him to get on it. She could hope he’d get tired and leave, but what she knew of Collin told her he was a tenacious fighter who wouldn’t give up easily.
What was he doing here?
Calm down, she told herself. Just calm down and think. A million different thoughts flooded her mind.
He knew. He had to know about the baby. Was he here to tell her to get an abortion?
She clenched her teeth at that possibility. She wasn’t going to do it.
What to do?
Her brain suddenly didn’t want to work. Ever since she’d stared at those two pink lines on the pregnancy test, she’d felt that her brain had gone into slow-mo mode, and she’d lost all ability to make a decision. Now, faced with Collin here, on North Captiva, she’d need to decide. If she told Yvana to get rid of him, she would. But was that what she really wanted? She wasn’t sure.
What she did know was that she still wasn’t over the sting of rejection she’d felt when he failed to call her the morning after their drunken tryst. She’d texted him—twice—and he hadn’t bothered to respond. The curt nod she’d gotten in the courthouse the next morning had told her all she needed to know—she was a one-night stand, a mistake he didn’t intend to repeat. She should’ve seen it coming. I don’t date defense attorneys, he’d warned her over drinks. It’d be a bad career move.
She ought to have walked away from him right then and there. Yet, she hadn’t. It was his green eyes, she thought, almost gray, striking with his tanned complexion, set off by his jet-black hair. He wore it longish and wavy on top, short at the sides. He was shrewd, but that wasn’t what had made her stay for a drink. It was his surprising show of empathy that day.
“Nobody said this job was easy,” he’d murmured as he sidled up to her at the bar at Pete’s, down the street from the courthouse in Fort Myers. “I know you had a rough week. Buy you a drink?”
Rough didn’t begin to cover it. Two days ago, she’d had to tell the mother of a nineteen-year-old that he was going to prison for seven years. He stole a car because someone had left it running with the keys in it. A crime of opportunity. But he’d messed up badly—because the car had had a baby in the back seat. That automatically made it a felony.
The teenager wasn’t a bad kid, just rudderless; he’d spent his life in an impoverished neighborhood. Nevertheless, his carelessness had left a mother in a panic, and worse, he’d abandoned the car with the baby still inside. Thankfully, a cop had spotted it, but if that hadn’t happened...the baby could’ve overheated, could’ve died. Poor decision-making and bad luck meant he was going away for seven years, and he’d come out harder. Maybe even more violent. There was nothing reforming about the prison system.
And then, in the afternoon, she’d had to represent a white supremacist—her! Madison was about as brown as a person could get. But Jimmy Reese was a KKK member who’d tried to shoot a black man and hit a white twelve-year-old instead. She couldn’t imagine getting a worse case. She’d lost the one case and then gotten another that she hoped very much to lose.
“You planning to cut a deal for Jimmy?” he’d asked her.
She slowly shook her head. Jimmy had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to cop a plea. “No, he wants to tell the whole court how patriotic he is for trying to kill anybody who isn’t white.”
Collin just rolled his eyes. “You gonna defend that?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head again. “It’s indefensible.”
“I say we both need a drink,” he said. “Come on, let me buy you one. A drink can make you feel better,” he promised. “Or it’ll make you feel much, much worse. Either way, you won’t be where you are right now.”
She’d had to laugh at that.
That was why she’d accepted Collin’s offer of a drink. And the second. And the third.
And that led to...a night she wouldn’t forget. Boy, the man had skills. He was gorgeous and he possessed a magical touch. It almost wasn’t fair.
Her phone rang. She picked it up.
“You still want me to stall this guy?” Yvana asked. How long had it been since she’d called the first time? Half an hour?
“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted.
“Well, this Collin guy has been in here twice, asking me when his ride is coming, but you and I both know there ain’t no ride. Not unless you say so.”
“Where is he now?” Madison bit her lip. She didn’t want to see him, and yet how long could she really stall?
“Waiting on that bench, but he’s going to start walking soon, and you know how this island is for newbies... He’ll be wandering around for days trying to find your house.” Yvana clucked her tongue.
“I know, I just...” Madison hesitated. Her mind whirled like an old computer with long outdated software. She couldn’t decide. Talk to him and get it over with? Should she do that?
“He’s cute. You didn’t mention that.”
Madison felt a blush creep up her cheek. She knew he was and that women noticed him, but hearing it confirmed didn’t help.
“I mean, I can see why you knocked boots. He’s got muscles that go on...forever.”
“Yvana!” Madison cried. Yvana cackled her delight into the phone.
“Just stating the obvious,” Yvana said. “Don’t worry, sugar. He’s far too young for me. So, it’s not his looks that are keeping you away. Why not let this fine man—the father of your baby, I assume—come see you? What’s wrong with him? Aside from the fact that you could bounce quarters off those abs. Which isn’t a problem unless you want a softer man to snuggle with.”
Madison laughed. “He doesn’t know. About the baby.”
“You sure about that, honey?” Yvana sounded suddenly very skeptical.
“Thought I was. I didn’t tell him.”
“Well, he sure is anxious to see you, and I don’t think it’s got anything to do with asking you out for drinks.”
Madison considered this. She glanced out her uncle’s kitchen window. Since the house stood on stilts, even the first floor was raised. She could see the tops of some shorter palm trees swaying in the breeze outside. “I just... He wasn’t very nice to me.” Ignoring her wasn’t nice. Not nice at all. And now, he’d shown up out of the blue... He had to know about the pregnancy. There could be no other explanation. “And there’s no way he’s ready to be a parent.” She remembered how easily he’d fought to have a nineteen-year-old put behind bars. What kind of father would he make? A heartless one, probably. “He’s full of himself, so how can he even focus on a baby?”
“Hmm, well, that could be trouble,” Yvana agreed. “But maybe he’s turned over a new leaf. He’s been waiting in the sun for half an hour, so that gets him points in my book. Why don’t you let me bring him to you? I’ve got a feeling you’ll want to hear what he has to say.”
What could that be? Madison wondered.
* * *
COLLIN GOT TIRED of waiting, so he set off down the sandy path in what he hoped was the right direction. He glanced back at the office once, but Yvana wasn’t moving fast enough for his taste. Patience had never been his strong suit. He would wait for a golf cart no more. Collin pulled up the address on his phone, but the signal was weak and the map kept spinning—and at one stage, his phone told him he was walking in the ocean when he was a good twenty feet from the bay. He adjusted the heavy backpack on his shoulders, now second-guessing the idea of bringing his laptop. What “work” was he going to do? He’d said goodbye to the office before he left, and they’d had a send-off with cake and everything, and he was now happily enjoying all those vacation days he’d stockpiled but never used. Yet, he’d never been without work for so long in his whole career that he’d packed the laptop as a matter of course.
The hot North Captiva sun beat down on him. Sweat poured from his forehead and dripped into his eyes, making them sting. He wished he’d had the foresight to bring a hat. Or some sunscreen. But when was the last time he’d been on an island? On a vacation of any kind? He thought a moment. It had been before law school. Ten years without a proper vacation. He spent what little time off he took during holidays at his sister’s house with her family. His sister was expecting again, and he’d be an uncle soon—for the second time.
Collin trudged down the sandy path, singing birds flitting from tree to tree beside him. Sweat continued to sting his eyes, and he squinted at his phone. It was useless. He’d have to ask someone for directions. He came to the first fork in the road, and paused, swatting at a mosquito buzzing around his face. This was beginning to get silly. He’d have to turn around and head back to the front office, or maybe flag down someone who might know where he needed to go. He couldn’t believe an island that was just four miles long and a half-mile wide could be so confounding.
That was when he heard the whirl of a small engine behind him. He turned to see Yvana driving a beige golf cart with the green logo of the North Captiva Club on the hood.
“Well, Lord, aren’t you in a hurry?” she cried. “You want to get heat stroke out here? Get in.”
Glad to have a lift, Collin climbed into the cart, his shirt damp with sweat. “Thought you forgot about me.”
“Oh, there’s no way I could, believe me.” Yvana eyed Collin as she drove down a path that led them by a large lagoon. A big white crane stabbed at a fish in the middle of the water, coming up with a mouthful and gobbling it down. “So, you plan on getting down on one knee or...”
Yvana let the question hang there.
Collin hadn’t thought about it.
“I don’t know,” he said because he hadn’t thought much about that part.
Yvana slammed on the brakes, nearly sending him out the open front of the cart. He grasped his bag, which had almost went flying as well.
“You want her to say yes, don’t you?”
“Oh, she’s going to say yes.” He had a steady job and he’d offer security, and this way their son wouldn’t be a bastard. Not that legitimacy seemed to matter anymore, an old-fashioned concept as most people saw it these days. But still. It was the principle of the thing.
“You think so?” Yvana eyed him with doubt.
“I know so.”
Yvana threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, she’s right. You are a little full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“What did she say about—” Collin didn’t get to finish the sentence because Yvana took the next turn at a speed she probably shouldn’t have, and he nearly fell out of his seat. Once he’d righted himself, he heard Yvana laughing.
“This is going to be fun. Yes, it is.”
* * *
MADISON WATCHED YVANA drop Collin off at the rounded sandy drive in front of her uncle’s beach house, and she sucked in a breath. She was used to seeing him in his dark tailor-made suits, and the casual polo and cargo shorts he wore caught her off-guard. The bay air ruffled his dark hair. He seemed less severe, less...imposing. She approved. So, this is what Collin Baptista looks like when he’s not putting people away. Approachable, affable....handsome.
Madison felt unnerved. His strong shoulders and muscular chest were as impressive in a polo as they were in an expensive wool suit. She had a flash then of his bare skin, of the feel of his strong pecs beneath her fingers. He was a surprisingly fit attorney, one who somehow found time to hit the gym. Collin was one of those people, she thought, who woke at five a.m. just to life weights. An overachiever.
Still, she felt an odd mix of delight and dread as she watched him walk up the stairs to the front patio door. Yvana steered the golf cart back out to the road, throwing her hand up in a wave as she left.
There was no more time to stall. Madison heard the doorbell and headed for the entryway. What was she going to say to him?
She padded down the staircase inside the house, her bare feet slapping the smooth dark wood as she made her way to the patio, anxiously fiddling with her hair. Why do I even give a damn? she asked herself as she went to the glass door. Collin was already knocking, peering in.
She’d forgotten how tall and broad he was. So broad. The normal-sized backpack slung over one shoulder looked...undersized.
She swung open the door.
“Is it mine?” he blurted immediately.
So he did know. Still, the it rubbed her the wrong way. The baby wasn’t an it. The baby was...a boy or a girl, but first and foremost, a baby, a human being, not an it.
“How did you find out?” she asked as he moved past her into the cool air-conditioning. She hadn’t exactly invited him in, but he didn’t seem to care about that little detail. She closed the door behind him, shutting out the swarm of gnats on the patio.
“Heard a rumor. Is it true? You’re pregnant?”
She felt the intensity of his gaze. She wanted to lie but knew it was futile. He’d sniff out a falsehood in a heartbeat.
“Who told you?”
“Matt. From your firm. He said people are talking about you taking a sudden leave, and the rumors are either that you’re pregnant or you have cancer. Which one is it?”
Madison bit her lower lip. She hadn’t told anyone but Uncle Rashad about the pregnancy, and she was sure he’d never tell anyone at work. Yvana was an exception, but then she’d been a close family friend for decades, and the spilling of that secret really was about her protection. Uncle Rashad wouldn’t gossip about something like that at the office.
“Is it true?” Collin asked again. He wasn’t going to let this go.
“No one was supposed to know,” she murmured.
“So, it is true.”
Here’s where he argues about the benefits of getting rid of the baby, she thought. Here’s where he subtly, but firmly, tells me the best thing is to terminate the pregnancy. She remembered Collin’s ruthless precision in the courtroom, his cold heart when it came to pleas and to empathy. He allowed for zero errors—whether it was a teenage kid making a stupid mistake or a mother who’d left her child in the care of someone who wasn’t fit to look after anyone else.
“So? It’s mine, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she sighed. She braced herself for the lecture.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, his expression eager and even...excited? That took her by surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want the baby. He’d been all hands and mouth that one night they’d spent together, but then the next day it was as if she hadn’t existed. Now, he liked the idea of her carrying his baby? Maybe she’d been wrong about him. Maybe he wasn’t just the hard-nosed prosecutor, the man without a heart.
He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. He put down his backpack on the terra-cotta stone tiles of the foyer and then turned to her.
“If it’s mine, then we need to do this.” He flipped open the black box lid, revealing a brilliant solitaire diamond that caught the sunlight and sparkled like fire. Suddenly, all coherent thought fled her mind.
Collin Baptista was asking her to marry him?
CHAPTER FOUR (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d)
MADISON FELT STUNNED as she stared at the ring. Could this really be happening? He was asking her to be his wife? She glanced up at Collin. His green eyes were serious; this was no joke.
“So?” he asked, handing her the box. A respectable diamond, she noticed. It must’ve cost a pretty penny.
He ducked down quickly, opened his backpack and pulled out a bouquet of wilted roses. “Oh, and here.” He thrust them at her. She took the flowers but ignored the box.
That was his proposal? There was nothing romantic in it. Hell, she wasn’t even sure he liked her, much less loved her, and he was proposing marriage? Why? Because one of his little guys had slipped past her goaltender? The ring was impressive; he, however, was not.
“That’s your proposal.” Madison crossed her arms, feeling a flare of anger in her chest. This was the best he could do? He couldn’t even muster up an actual question? She’d always imagined when the time came for a man to propose marriage, it would go very differently than this.
“Well, yes. I’m making an honest woman of you.”
What? She glanced at his face, so smug, so confident, so sure she’d only have one answer for him. He hadn’t even gotten down on one knee. Not that she was the kind of girl who demanded old-fashioned subservience, but...why wasn’t he trying harder?
He attempted to hand her the velvet box, and her heart thudded in her chest.
“What year is it? 1812?” Madison jabbed a fist into her hip.
“Hey, hey.” Once more, Collin held out the box, and the diamond glinted brightly in the sunlight, but Madison wasn’t about to take it.
“I’m doing the right thing,” he said.
There it was again, Madison thought, that tone of superiority. The right thing. He was so certain about what that was, and yet, he hadn’t even asked her opinion. He’d made a unilateral decision.
“What makes you think I’m keeping the baby?” she asked, and she could tell by the expression on his face that that threw him for a loop. Even though she was, she hated that he was deciding for her.
“Because...you’re always the softhearted lawyer. You’re always telling the jury about how they should have pity on this client or that client, and I assumed...” He frowned at her and stopped talking, then ran a hand through his hair. “You have to keep this baby.”
“I think it’s my decision.”
“Oh, no, no.” Collin was pacing now, a bundle of furious energy. “That’s our baby. It’s our decision.”
This just made Madison more furious. He wasn’t the one who had to carry the baby, give birth to the baby, nurse the baby. How was it half his decision?
“I came all this way, and I bought this ring, and you’re telling me you’re really considering an abortion?”
The word abortion felt like a slap. She didn’t like to think about it. She knew plenty of women who had no issue with it, but Collin was right about one thing; she had a tender heart. That also meant she’d never in a million years judge another woman who decided to get one. She understood now with perfect clarity just how your life could be sidelined in a heartbeat with too many drinks and one bad choice. She’d already made the decision to keep the baby, but now that Collin was here, that decision had just become more complicated. Collin wanted to be part of the relationship between her and the child. That was a possibility she’d never considered. Now, having the baby meant...having Collin in her life to some degree. She hadn’t planned on that.
Suddenly, the room felt airless, stuffy. Madison wanted to get away from Collin. She moved to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. Her throat was dry and she was starting to feel light-headed. All she wanted to do was lie down.
But Collin wasn’t finished as he trailed her into the kitchen. “And you weren’t even going to tell me about it? I have a right to know. That’s our baby.”
Madison snorted. “Our. There’s no our anything,” she grumbled. After all, it was Collin who’d made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing to do with her.
Collin followed her to the refrigerator. His shoulders seemed to take up all the space in the kitchen, and she felt trapped. “I’m doing the right thing, and you should, too,” he said.
Oh, here it was again. Collin’s obsession with right and wrong. It made him a fantastic prosecutor but also generally insufferable. Heaven forbid anybody should actually be a human being around him. Madison set down her glass of water near the sink and scowled at him.
“There he is... Mr. High-and-Mighty. I wondered when he was going to show up.” Madison crossed her arms. “Do you ever get tired of your high horse? Isn’t the air thin up there?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Collin crossed his arms and glared back at her.
“You’re full of yourself, that’s what.” Madison poked Collin in the chest, her finger bouncing off his muscles. “You never returned any of my calls. Or texts. You wanted nothing to do with me, but now you hear I’m pregnant, and suddenly you show up thinking I’m going to what...be grateful?”
The stunned look on Collin’s face told her that was exactly what he’d thought.
“But...why wouldn’t you be...happy or grateful or whatever?” Collin asked. “I’m offering to marry you. I never even date defense attorneys. But I’m willing to put all that aside and make up for my mistake, because now there’s a baby on the way and... I’m offering you my support and my name and—”
“Don’t talk about me and my profession like we’re somehow less than human. Defense attorneys are people, too,” Madison snapped. “And, for your information, I don’t need your support.” Madison was growing fed up with this kind of thinking. It wasn’t the 1800s. Or, hell, even the 1900s. “I don’t need your name, either. You may not know this, counselor, but I probably make more money than you. Those defense attorneys you hate so much often make more than you prosecutors.”
“Not always.”
“Pretty much always.” Madison glared at him again.
Collin looked uncertain. The prosecutor who almost never lost a closing argument seemed adrift. “You have to keep the baby. You have to marry me,” Collin said, still looking dumbfounded. Apparently, he hadn’t considered the possibility that she’d say no, which irked her even more.
“I don’t have to do anything,” Madison said. But as the words left her mouth, she knew that was partly a lie. She was compelled to look at Collin’s full lips, his perfect squared-off chin. Even in this moment of annoyance, she found herself attracted to the man, a feeling completely and utterly out of her control.
“I don’t get it. You don’t want to marry me?” The disappointment in his eyes caught her by surprise. Her rejection hurt him, something she hadn’t thought possible. Madison’s head pounded; she was tired and strangely sad. Why did she feel like she was going to cry? She hated the look of hope on his face—and the feeling of hopelessness in her own chest.
“I think you should go.” Madison pointed to the patio door. “I have a headache. And I need to rest.” Fatigue hit her, and suddenly all the energy left her body. And then there was the feeling of sadness that threatened to crush her.
She ushered Collin to the door.
“But...”
“You need to go. I am not making any decisions until the end of the week, okay? Right now, I need to lie down before I fall down.” She opened the front door and he went, almost in a daze.
“You don’t want to marry me,” he reiterated.
“No, Collin, I don’t,” she said. Then, she shut the glass door in his face.
* * *
“THAT DID NOT go well,” Collin said aloud, but the only one who heard him was the little green gecko darting by his feet on the porch. He stared at the closed door. Madison had closed the blinds, so he couldn’t even look in. Still, Collin stood on the porch, swatting away mosquitoes.
What the hell do I do now? A nagging mosquito bit his neck and Collin slapped it hard. Damn bloodsuckers. Sometimes he hated Florida. He’d been raised in the Bronx and there, mosquitoes never got this big. But he’d gone to law school in Florida, since they’d offered him the biggest scholarship, and after graduation he’d gotten an internship and then a job in the state attorney’s office. And he’d stayed, but he sometimes wished he was back in New York.
“If only I could put the entire mosquito population in jail,” he mused as he adjusted his backpack on his shoulders and headed back to the main office on foot, the ring feeling heavy and suddenly way too expensive in his pocket. He was still reeling from her rejection. He hadn’t been one hundred percent sure she’d say yes, but he realized he’d never really entertained the notion that she’d say no.
Where had he gone wrong? He knew Madison wasn’t like other women he’d dated. She was fiercely independent, and she hadn’t bothered chasing after him when he hadn’t returned her texts, but still... Why hadn’t she accepted his help? Then again, maybe she didn’t need his help.
He shook his head as he wondered whether or not he ought to see if he could get a refund on the ring. He also had no idea what to do if Madison terminated her pregnancy.
Part of him felt strongly that she wouldn’t do that, though. She was one of the biggest-hearted defense attorneys he knew. She couldn’t spin those sob stories to the jury if she didn’t believe them, and Collin’s gut told her she’d be even more protective of her own baby.
Then it’s my job to convince her we ought to get married. He didn’t see it as a sexist thing at all. Madison might be convinced she didn’t need him, but he was convinced the baby did.
After two wrong turns, he ended up back at the office. The door opened with a telltale ding of the bell, and Yvana glanced at him with pity.
“She said no, huh?”
“Why aren’t you surprised?” Collin asked, leaning against the counter, wondering if Yvana knew more than she let on. He swiped at his sweaty brow and tried to enjoy the air-conditioning in the office.
“Oh, I’ve known Maddie a long time,” Yvana said. “Babysat her when she was little. She’s as stubborn a girl as I ever met. You couldn’t get her to do anything unless she thought it was her idea.”
Collin chuckled ruefully. “I learned that the hard way.”
Yvana shook her head slowly, her golden hoop earrings catching the sunlight. “What’re you gonna do? Pack it in? Ferry comes about half an hour from now.”
“No,” Collin said, suddenly feeling a new wave of determination. He hadn’t given up on law school when things had gotten difficult. He wasn’t about to throw in the towel now. That was something his no-good father would have done. Quit when the going got tough. Not him.
Madison wasn’t the only one who had a stubborn streak. “Do you have a house to rent? Preferably close to Madison?”
“Well, well, well.” Yvana raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You’re determined. I’m starting to like you,” Yvana said as she clacked away on her keyboard. “You’re in luck. The Petersons’ house next door is available for rent. You want the whole week?”
“How about just one night?”
Yvana laughed. “Oh, honey, you’re gonna need longer than that,” she said. “I’ll put you down for the week. Maybe two. You can always change the reservation if you convince her earlier—but, honey, let me warn you. She ain’t an easy one.”
CHAPTER FIVE (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d)
COLLIN WOKE THE next morning inside the little two-bedroom cottage on stilts, wondering for a second where he was. Then he saw the black velvet box on his nightstand, and all the events from the day before came rushing back. He sat up and yawned, still remembering the steely look on Madison’s face when she’d refused to marry him. Clearly, Madison had been angry with him, and he guessed, if he really thought about it, he understood. He hadn’t exactly been nice after they’d...done the deed. Worrying about office protocol and breaking office rules was probably something he should’ve done before they got naked. But Madison was just irresistible. He supposed he should’ve told her that after they’d slept together instead of ignoring her texts.
He’d messed up. He got that, but a baby changed things, didn’t it?
And why wasn’t he getting any points for standing up and taking responsibility? That was what he didn’t get. Then again, since when did anyone ever give him points for that? His childhood on the poor side of the Bronx should’ve taught him that much. Guys who cut corners—like his father, like the hoods on the street—they got the instant payoff. Good guys had to work harder for theirs. He knew that, had always known it.
The sunlight beamed in through Collin’s open bedroom window; the blinds were permanently stuck in the “up” position. He was normally an early riser, but dawn was earlier than even he normally got up. He glanced around the small room. Everything about this house was smaller and less impressive than Madison’s. Or, rather, her uncle’s. His, too, was on stilts, and stood three stories high, though only two were enclosed, the first being open to the elements, with an outside shower and a small shed for garden tools. The two properties faced one another, and all that separated their properties was a small green space of a shared yard, and a few trees. Their porches and balconies faced one another, though as he glanced at her home now, he couldn’t see her. She must be inside. The yard was surprisingly manicured, most of the island was brush and trees where it wasn’t beach—like a series of crisscrossing sandy trails through bits of tropical jungle. This house badly needed a new coat of paint—and a kitchen and bathroom remodel. However, it was close to Madison’s, which was all that mattered.
He wondered what he ought to do. Call Madison? Go over and offer to get her breakfast? Neither of those things seemed likely to impress a woman who was totally pissed at him. He looked again at Madison’s deck and checked for signs of life. He didn’t see any. Collin sighed. He had no idea what his next move should be. If he was prosecuting a defendant, he would have been able to call his next witness or file a motion before the judge, but now, he felt at a total loss. Madison had told him flat-out no, and it wasn’t as if he could appeal her decision to a higher authority. He rubbed his face and dragged himself to the bathroom where a brown gecko darted across the tile floor. Collin swished mouthwash around to rid himself of stale morning breath and glanced at his bare chest in the mirror. He worked out. He took care of himself. He was a good-looking guy—if he did say so himself—with a promising career. None of that seemed to matter to Madison, though.
He sighed again. Maybe he was a little egocentric, but he was proud of his accomplishments and of his career. He’d put in a lot of effort and defied all the odds to get where he was. He thought about the two jobs his mother had done, her late nights and early mornings, all by herself, working to support him and his sister. She’d passed away of a heart attack the year after he graduated from law school, but at least she’d gotten to see him land a job at the state attorney’s office. She was so proud of him, and he had every right to be proud of himself. Was that ego or just fact?
Collin headed to the kitchen, where he found a refrigerator empty of everything except a bottle of ketchup and a cabinet that had coffee filters but zero coffee. He hadn’t expected to be staying alone or in this house. He’d imagined being wrapped up in Madison’s arms...or at the very least, sharing a meal with her. He hadn’t brought groceries, and now he realized he’d probably have to go to the small convenience store near the pool for supplies, or simply eat out every meal. He groaned.
Peering up at the line of windows, he looked out on the treetops below and Madison’s backyard. When he opened the sliding glass door, he could see all of Madison’s yard from the porch on, since the first floor of the house was raised a story and a half above the ground. He went out onto the wooden deck barefoot and shirtless, wearing only his sleep shorts. Just then, he saw Madison emerge from a path near the shrubs carrying a watering can. She walked leisurely to a couple of potted plants nearby, where she watered some blooming bright pink flowers.
Collin watched for a second, risking the chance that she might look up and see him. Madison’s dark hair hung loose past her shoulders, her eyes focused on the task. Usually, she wore her hair up in a tight bun in the courtroom. He remembered that on the night they’d shared he’d run his hands through it, and it had been thicker than he’d imagined. He could tell that she wore no makeup and just a pair of gym shorts and a tank top, but the sun hit her glowing skin in a manner that made her seem younger than thirty. He wanted to touch that smooth skin again, almost forgetting what it had felt like. Damn those drinks that fogged my memory, he thought. She moved gently, easily. Was she a little thicker around the middle? He wasn’t sure, although, she did seem softer somehow, her curves curvier. He tried to see where a baby bump might be forming, but saw nothing except a perfect figure. The woman was breathtaking. That was why she was so impossible to reject that night, he thought. He remembered the way she’d reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him, the energy flowing between them, the attraction neither one could resist.
This woman is carrying my baby. The very idea still shook him.
Then a yellow blur dashed across his peripheral vision. He turned, glanced around the low-lying green leafy trees. What was that? He saw another blur of light colored fur. Yellow? Gray? He couldn’t be sure. Too big to be a cat. A dog? It was close to Madison’s backyard—and she didn’t have a fence. What if it was a rabid dog? A dangerous one? Did they have coyotes on this island? Suddenly, he felt fearful. For Madison. For his baby.
“Madison!” Collin shouted, but she kept her back to him. That was when he saw the white earbuds, their wires trailing from her ears. Dammit! He watched, frozen, as the blur he’d seen in the trees broke free and headed at top speed toward Madison’s turned back. Collin was already on the move, skidding down the wooden steps that led to their shared drive, nearly falling over himself as his bare feet hit the rocky path. He didn’t feel the pricks of the tiny shells and pebbles on the soles of his feet as he sprinted over shrubs and through thorny bushes to Madison’s yard. He heard a loud screech and went faster, breaking through the cover of thick branches in time to see a shaggy yellow dog licking Madison’s face. She was flat on her back, and he had a single paw on her chest. He looked tame, but the adrenaline rushing through Collin’s veins told him she’d been knocked to the ground by this...animal, no matter how adorable he seemed.
“Get off her!” Collin roared and rushed forward to push the dog away.
“Collin!” Madison chastised. “It’s fine... He’s just a puppy.”
“That thing? That’s no puppy!”
“He is,” Madison insisted. “Look at the size of his paws. He’s all clumsy... He’s just a big puppy.”
Collin glanced down at the dog’s enormous paws, oversized for its body. Though, now that he was closer, he saw that the dog was smaller than he’d first thought. He was mostly fur. The dog probably weighed only thirty pounds.
“What if he’s rabid?”
“I’m sure he’s not,” Madison said. He saw that she took notice of his shirtless chest, her eyes momentarily on his torso. Was it his imagination or did her eyes linger there a bit longer than they ought to? Well, let her look. He hadn’t had time to throw on a shirt. He’d thought she was being mauled by a rabid dog.
“He knocked you down.” Collin still felt his heart thudding as he reached out and helped her to her feet. “Are you okay? Is...” He couldn’t even get out the word baby. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” Madison said as she shook a leaf out of her hair, then batted his hands away. “He didn’t knock me down. He surprised me, and I slipped.”
“Same difference.” He shifted, the sandy soil filled with shells poking at his bare feet. “You all right?” he asked once more.
“Fine,” she snapped. “I told you. And what are you even doing here? I thought you went home.”
“You thought wrong. I rented the house next door.”
“Why?”
He heard a note of annoyance in her voice. He was worried about her—was that a crime? For a second, she reminded him of his mother: stoic, stubborn, refusing to admit she ever needed help. The woman would work until she collapsed, never complaining.
“Because we need to talk.”
Before Madison could answer, the shaggy yellow dog barked. He looked like some dog experiment gone wrong. His poofy, curly yellow fur hung in his eyes, and his shaggy coat made him look, at a guess, part poodle and part sheepdog. Or maybe part golden retriever. The little guy had big floppy ears and a long fluffy tail that curled up like the feather on a musketeer’s hat. He wore no collar, and bits of leaves and brush were poking out of his thick fur. Collin had never been much of an animal person—living with a single mom in the Bronx meant he’d never had a dog growing up. His mother barely had enough money to buy them food, much less food for a pet. Collin had spent most of his childhood convincing himself he’d never wanted one, anyway. He studied the dog with suspicion.
Madison, however, leaned down and ran her hands through the dog’s furry head, scratching him behind the ears.
“Who’s a good boy?” she said. “You look just like a teddy bear.”
“If a wolf can look like a teddy bear,” Collin grumbled.
She continued to rub the dog and his back foot instantly began bobbing, as if he was trying to scratch an invisible itch.
“Aw, you’re adorable, yes, you are.” Madison’s voice went high and baby-like, and Collin felt a stab of jealousy. Why did she like this strange little stray mutt more than him?
“He probably has fleas,” he said, noticing how much the dog seemed to appreciate being pet nearly anywhere, as Madison continued massaging his back and he kept moving gleefully to divert her attention to a new spot.
Madison ignored Collin’s remark. “You don’t have a collar,” she said. “Who’s your owner, boy?” She waited patiently as if the dog might answer her.
“You know he can’t speak, right?” Collin pointed out, but Madison just frowned.
“You’re thirsty, aren’t you? And hungry. When was the last time you had a drink?” She shook her head. Why was that her problem? Collin wondered. “Wait with him. Don’t let him leave,” Madison ordered, as she ran up the wooden staircase to her front door.
“But...” Collin didn’t like dogs. Or cats. Or anything with fur and teeth. He stared down at the dog, who had a big pink tongue hanging out its mouth as it panted, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. The dog pushed his nose up against his crotch to sniff.
“Hey, back off,” he said, squirming in the opposite direction. Then, as he was trying to maneuver farther back, the dog gave his hand a big sticky lick. Ew. Probably all kinds of germs in that drool, he thought with disgust, as he wiped his hand on his shorts. The dog leaned forward again and licked his toes. Collin nearly leaped a mile straight in the air. “That’s it... You...” He jumped away from the dog and nearly fell. He had half a mind to scare the dog off. A stray wasn’t their problem, no matter how much Madison wanted to make it hers.
She emerged with a bowl of water, a small belt and a white nylon rope. She put the bowl down in front of the mangy mutt, and he began lapping up the water as if he hadn’t had any in days.
“Thought you looked thirsty, boy,” she said as she bent down and wrapped her belt around the dog’s neck, using it as a makeshift collar. She attached the nylon rope and tied it to one of the posts of her front steps. “Now you won’t run off before we can find your owner.”
“We?” Collin asked, anxious. “Let’s call animal control. Then he won’t be anybody’s problem anymore. They can take him to the pound.”
“The pound!” Madison cried, shocked. “No way. Besides, this island is too small for that. We’ve got one fire station and not even a police station.”
Collin frowned. “What if there’s trouble? Does everybody just hope it goes away?”
“Usually there isn’t, but in an emergency, we call the shore, and the police can helicopter someone over.”
“But they can’t get here that fast,” Collin noted, not liking the idea of his future wife and future baby being on an island where the police were a helicopter flight away.
“It’s a peaceful place,” she said. “Or was. Till you got here.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Collin asked, defensive. Near his feet, the yellow dog lifted his now-wet snout from the bowl of water and whined.
“Never mind. Anyway, there’s no pound, so we’re going to find his owner.”
“What if he doesn’t have one?”
The dog cocked his head to one side. “We’re on an island, so I don’t think he swam here.” She glared at him, and he felt the sudden urge to march back to his rental house, grab his things and head straight for the first ferry off this little rock.
“What if they don’t want this ugly dog back?”
“He’s not ugly! He’s adorable.”
Collin sighed. Here went the softhearted defense attorney, wanting to give everyone a second chance.
“I think he’s a poodle mix. Maybe a labradoodle or a golden doodle.”
“He’s a no-doodle, if you ask me.” Collin frowned at the dog.
“You’re so mean!” Madison exclaimed. “Can’t you have a heart, for once?”
“I have a heart,” he argued, a little taken aback.
“Really?” She looked skeptical and that stung.
“I’m not that bad. Only to the bad guys.”
“Look, why don’t you go back to...” Madison lost her train of thought. “...wherever you came from and I’ll take care of the dog. I can go knock on doors.”
“You? Take this disaster around and knock on strangers’ doors?” Collin was horrified. “In your condition?” He suddenly imagined a host of problems—heat stroke or an accident—or even worse, serial killers lurking behind every palm tree.
“I’m pregnant, not paralyzed,” Madison said, narrowing her eyes. “And you don’t care about this dog, so I’ll do it.”
Collin let out a sigh. He’d have to go with her. He didn’t want her wandering around the island with a dog nearly as big as she was. Puppy or not. “I’m coming with you.”
“I didn’t ask for your help,” she said, lifting her chin.
“You’re getting it anyway. Can you let me put on some clothes first?”
Madison glanced uneasily at his bare chest. “I guess so.”
The yellow dog barked his approval.
CHAPTER SIX (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d)
BY THE TIME they’d walked nearly a mile and asked about the dog at a dozen houses, Madison was starting to tire...and her empty stomach grumbled, reflecting her increasingly darker mood. She looked at the yellow fluffy ball of fur trotting ahead of them. So far, nobody they’d talked to owned a dog or knew of anybody who owned a dog, aside from the Ruben family and they had a German shepherd. The hot North Captiva sun hung high above them, nearly overhead, signaling that it was drawing close to lunchtime. Madison had long since burned off her breakfast of an English muffin and a cup of decaffeinated tea. Collin insisted on holding the dog’s “leash” as he fretted over her as if she were made of delicate china. She wasn’t sure whether she liked his nonstop worry or hated it. She might be pregnant, but she wasn’t some little weakling.
Although, her hungry stomach told her that if she didn’t find some food—and something to drink—soon, she might start to feel like one.
“Are we really going to knock on every door?” Collin asked her. “Why don’t we just let the dog go? He seemed fine on his own, and maybe he knows where home is.”
“No! How can you say that? He’s dying of thirst.”
“Not dying. Just thirsty,” Collin muttered. The dog bounced happily ahead of them, tail wagging as Collin held on to the rope attached to Madison’s skinny belt, which she’d looped twice around the dog’s neck.
“He’s been on his own for a while... Maybe his owners even left the island.”
“And left him behind?” Collin asked.
“Sometimes people do bad things.” Madison shrugged.
“Says the defense attorney,” Collin quipped. “Can I get that on record for the next time you’re defending one of your guilty clients?”
Madison whirled, feeling anger squeeze her throat. Plus, her empty stomach made her short-tempered. “Not all of them are guilty.”
“Uh-huh.” Collin rolled his eyes. “Are you going to tell me another sob story about a thug who just fell in with the wrong crowd?”
Madison crossed her arms as they walked side by side down the narrow sandy path.
“You don’t know everything, Mr. Prosecutor. Some clients are innocent. Like James Miller,” she said.
“James Miller? The gangbanger? Are you serious?” He stopped, and the fluffy dog stopped with him, pink tongue out as he sat on the trail, watching them argue.
“He wasn’t a gangbanger,” Madison insisted. “He was a nineteen-year-old who stole a gift for his mother. That’s all.”
“I know that’s what you told the jury, but I can’t believe you really bought that. He was best friends with one of the most notorious gangbangers in his neighborhood, and he’d been seen riding around near where a shooting took place.”
“He never shot anybody.” Madison was absolutely sure about this. “And he knew bad people, but he wasn’t in a gang. Besides, you know he didn’t shoot anybody, or you’d have been prosecuting him for it.”
“He punched the security guard, or don’t you remember that footage? It was a violent act, and he was likely going to get more violent,” Collin said.
“He made a mistake,” Madison countered. They were now standing toe to toe, but Collin was so much taller that Madison had to arch her neck to meet his eyes.
“Okay, fine...and we’re supposed to set him free so his next ‘mistake’ is killing someone? And what about Jimmy Reese?”
Madison couldn’t defend Jimmy. Well, technically, she had defended him, but he’d been a white supremacist who’d sprayed a supermarket with bullets, aiming for a black man, but killing a white girl and wounding half a dozen others.
“I tried to get him to take a plea,” Madison said. I didn’t want to defend him. “Besides, he’s in jail for...what? Twenty years?” Not that even twenty years would help the girl’s parents sleep at night. “And anyway, James isn’t Reese.”
“No? Reese also had burglary on his record. Just because James hadn’t shot up a grocery store yet and killed someone’s little girl doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have.”
“James doesn’t want to kill people just because of what they look like.” How could he equate a neo Nazi with a kid who made a mistake?
“No, but gangbangers kill innocent people all the time,” Collin countered. “Do I need to remind you how many kids were victims of gangbanger bullets last year alone?”
Madison felt her blood begin to boil. She hated this “if one’s guilty, they’re all guilty” attitude. It was why people assumed that everyone who lived in a certain zip code or looked a certain way must be a criminal.
“Maybe you’re so concerned about being right that you can’t see an obviously innocent defendant when you see one.” Madison hated the way he always put labels on people. Bad. Good. Life wasn’t that simple.
“And maybe you’re such a bleeding heart you can’t see that the guilty clients are guilty...and that this dog is just fine without us.” Collin nodded at the dog, who still sat panting in the shade.
Was this how Collin would be as a father? An authoritarian know-it-all? How would he be understanding with a child, who would inevitably make mistakes? “This is why we shouldn’t be parents,” she said, waving a hand in the air. “We’re too different.”
“What does that have to do with being parents?” Collin took a step closer, his green eyes flashing in the sunlight. He was tall, imposing, intimidating, ever the prosecutor.
“You. Me. We see the world so differently. We’d make a terrible couple, and we’d make terrible parents,” she said, taking the leash from his hands and walking ahead of him, the dog prancing out in front of her, happy to be moving again.
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Cara Lockwood
When opposing counsels attractAssistant DA Collin Baptista has a rule: never sleep with the enemy. He broke it once—with defense attorney Madison Reddy. Now Madison’s pregnant and Collin heads to her North Captiva retreat with a ring, prepared to do the right thing. What he’s not prepared for is her flat-out rejection.Madison may not think he’s ready to be a father, but Collin’s sure he can convince her otherwise. And when the couple find a lost goldendoodle puppy, they get plenty of opportunity to practice being a family. Maybe a secluded Florida island and a stray puppy can teach these two rivals to be a couple—and parents!
When opposing counsels attract!
Assistant DA Collin Baptista has a rule: never sleep with the enemy. He broke it once—with defense attorney Madison Reddy. Now Madison’s pregnant and Collin heads to her North Captiva retreat with a ring, prepared to do the right thing. What he’s not prepared for is her flat-out rejection.
Madison may not think he’s ready to be a father, but Collin’s sure he can convince her otherwise. And when the couple find a lost goldendoodle puppy, they get plenty of opportunity to practice being a family. Maybe a secluded Florida island and a stray puppy can teach these two rivals to be a couple—and parents!
CARA LOCKWOOD is the USA TODAY bestselling author of more than seventeen books, including I Do (But I Don’t), which was made into a Lifetime Original movie. She’s written the Bard Academy series for young adults and has had her work translated into several languages around the world. Born and raised in Dallas, Cara now lives near Chicago with her two wonderful daughters. Find out more about her at caralockwood.com (http://www.caralockwood.com), friend her on Facebook, Facebook.com/authorcaralockwood (https://Facebook.com/authorcaralockwood), or follow her on Twitter, @caralockwood (https://twitter.com/caralockwood).
Also By Cara Lockwood (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d)
Island of Second Chances
Shelter in the Tropics
The Big Break
Her Hawaiian Homecoming
Boys and Toys
Texting Under the Influence
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Practicing Parenthood
Cara Lockwood
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08290-7
PRACTICING PARENTHOOD
© 2018 Cara Lockwood
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“So? It’s mine, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Madison sighed. She braced herself for the lecture.
“That’s what I thought,” Collin said, looking eager...and even...excited? That took her by surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want the baby. He’d been all hands and mouth that one night they spent together, but then the next day, it was as if she didn’t exist. Now he liked the idea of her carrying his baby? Maybe she’d been wrong about him. Maybe he wasn’t the hard-nosed prosecutor without a heart.
He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. He put down his backpack on the terra-cotta stone tiles of the foyer, and then turned to her.
“If it’s mine, then we need to do this.” He flipped open the black box lid, revealing a brilliant solitaire diamond that caught the sunlight and sparkled like fire. Suddenly, all coherent thought fled her mind.
Collin Baptista was asking her to marry him.
Dear Reader (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d),
I’m excited to share with you my new book, Practicing Parenthood, a story about how sometimes the best way to learn how to love is to dive in, headfirst.
After Collin Baptista has a night of fiery passion with opposing counsel Madison Reddy, neither believe it’s a relationship with legs. But then Madison discovers she’s pregnant, and Collin surprises her by proposing. Madison, however, has no intention of getting married just to get married. Instead, she heads to her uncle’s beach house on beautiful North Captiva, Florida.
Collin follows and he and Madison find a stray puppy on the island and adopt him, and in the process discover they have a long way to go to learn to be parents.
I recently adopted a goldendoodle (half poodle, half golden retriever) myself that my daughters named Teddy as well (since he, too, looks like a teddy bear), and so I knew firsthand the difficulties of having a puppy, and it reminded me of how similar puppies and babies can be. You can’t turn your back on either one for a minute!
I loved the idea of a couple at odds coming together and learning to be parents while fostering a puppy and realizing that they are stronger together as a team. Sometimes, the biggest obstacles to love are the ones we put in our own path.
Because this is my last Harlequin Superromance title, I also wanted to thank you, the reader. It’s been an honor and a privilege to write for you. I hope you enjoy Practicing Parenthood as much as I enjoyed writing it.
All my best,
Cara
For Hana, Miya, Sophia, Pete and Sarina, the true joys in my life who let me practice parenthood every day.
Contents
Cover (#u9d4d297d-5246-5686-8b17-8c41dee2d762)
Back Cover Text (#u33ad072e-b290-5f2c-b0a4-0b1a0f6ac11b)
About the Author (#u3a49a4fa-78fb-558f-b422-f78370eafa39)
Booklist (#u2908d0b5-f253-5b8b-8881-3aa5d64bd95a)
Title Page (#uade3aabc-cc39-5a40-9b0a-02d4f380d352)
Copyright (#u51713e0f-90a0-5948-ac6e-0ccfc38148a6)
Introduction (#u9f960c4e-e0c2-529c-8ca5-9acf8c6b0381)
Dear Reader (#uae267036-7b50-5b5b-b6b0-b9d11970212a)
Dedication (#u32f17b1a-e807-5c73-9520-0c0fb04f3494)
PROLOGUE (#u8211cb0d-87c8-56f3-82aa-87b293ced122)
CHAPTER ONE (#u17a25248-da0a-54a8-bdcf-5179c325e697)
CHAPTER TWO (#u76ead913-92b9-5284-ae4b-e4cbc9cad071)
CHAPTER THREE (#uc585b412-b368-5eef-8f6f-6c368c7439e7)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u020874d1-a3cf-562e-9498-f3a9715fd648)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ufdd7f463-d1ba-5bb7-90b0-9992388f9715)
CHAPTER SIX (#u2fba143a-9346-5f7d-a788-896d9cdfa9b6)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d)
COLLIN BAPTISTA SLID through the metal detectors at the Lee County courthouse, grateful for the cool air-conditioning that fought off the humid air of southwest Florida. He grabbed his keys and wallet from the conveyor belt and nodded at Joyce, the armed guard who wore her hair in tight braids. She was a regular, like all the staff he saw almost daily at the courthouse.
“Looking good today,” she told him, her eyes sliding down the length of the new dark suit that fit him like a glove, a splurge he’d allowed himself after winning that high-profile murder trial last month. He patted the top of his thick black hair, courtesy of his Filipino mother, a contrast to his green eyes and the lopsided, roguish smile from his Irish dad. Collin was anything but boy-next-door, but he could command a courtroom with persuasive arguments alone, one of the many reasons he hadn’t lost a case in two years working as a prosecutor for the state attorney’s office.
Still, he felt nerves dance in the pit of his stomach, but they had nothing to do with the hearing this morning, which was a routine case—a drunk driver who’d smashed his car into a tree but thankfully hadn’t hurt anyone. Yet. Collin planned to take the driver’s license to teach him a lesson. That was an open-and-shut case, something he could do with his eyes closed. The man’s blood alcohol had been three times the legal limit. No, what made him anxious was the thought of seeing Madison Reddy again.
Madison. Her dark thick hair, her light brown nearly hazel eyes... The curves that simply didn’t quit. Her father’s family had immigrated from India, her mother’s side was from Scotland. She was biracial like he was, and the only woman he knew of who could make an off-the-rack gray suit and sturdy heels look almost pornographic. He’d been haunted by her eyes for a year, and even more so now since they’d fallen into her bed two months ago after happy hour gone wrong.
Or, he thought, very, very right.
Collin walked through the courtroom and found he was early; no one sat at the defense table. He felt a tug of disappointment. He’d wanted every extra minute before or after the hearing to see her. That she wasn’t waiting for him left him feeling a little empty.
You were the one who didn’t call her, a voice nagged inside his brain. You were the one who deliberately avoided her these past couple of months.
He’d told himself he hadn’t called because he was worried about violating the state attorney’s policy of not sleeping with the opposing counsel. He could’ve gotten around that, he supposed. But he knew the real reason ran deeper than that. He liked Madison. He liked her too much. He had career plans that didn’t include staying in Fort Myers, and if he started a serious relationship with her, he’d be tempted to toss those ideas out the window.
He only had three rules in life: 1) Don’t lose; 2) Bad guys deserve more than the book thrown at them; and 3) Never sleep with the enemy (in other words, defense attorneys). He’d broken one of his three cardinal rules for Madison. That was how amazing the woman was.
In his opinion, most defense attorneys were liars or exaggerators, relying on smoke and mirrors rather than facts. Every prosecutor felt that way. He’d vowed never to go to bed with one of them. Yet, Madison had somehow managed to sneak past all his defenses. She stood by her own set of principles and wasn’t afraid to give him a piece of her mind.
Instantly, afterward, he realized how reckless he’d been. If word got out that he’d slept with opposing counsel, it would tarnish his career and hers.
They’d faced off on a number of different cases, including one that involved a fairly high-profile white supremacist who’d tried to murder a black man but had ended up shooting a twelve-year-old girl by mistake. After their one night together, he’d avoided her steadfastly for a couple of months. Yet, as much as he tried to forget her, he kept thinking about her smooth legs, soft stomach, her light brown eyes alight with mirth. It was only his career that kept him from picking up the phone and calling her.
But none of that mattered now. He wasn’t going to be her opposing counsel for much longer.
He sat at the prosecutor’s table and opened his briefcase, checking out the letter one last time. He’d accepted a job at the US attorney’s office in Miami, a huge promotion, beginning in four months. Not bad for a kid whose father went to prison for drugs when Collin was just two and died there when Collin was ten. He was proud of being a success despite the odds—son of a single mom and raised in the poorest of poor neighborhoods. Sure, he was a hard-nosed, hard-charging prosecutor, but life had never given him any real breaks. He’d had plenty of temptation to run drugs, to steal, to cut corners—but he’d never done any of it. He’d worked the worst jobs on janitorial staffs at two in the morning to put himself through college and law school, and eventually he wanted to be the highest prosecutor in the land, the attorney general. But for now, he’d accept a position as a federal prosecutor in Miami.
Collin planned to take some time off before then. This was his last case before he took an extended sabbatical. And the months he wasn’t working as a prosecutor, he wanted to spend with Madison, getting to know those curves he fought to remember through the fuzz of alcohol he’d consumed that night. He glanced at the defense table. Where was she?
Then attorneys from her firm, Reddy, Chester and Todd, arrived. Collin recognized one of them, Matt Todd, a guy he’d gone to law school with. Collin momentarily felt disoriented. Where was Madison? Surely, she hadn’t left the firm. Her uncle was a partner and there were rumors he’d make her a partner one day, too.
“Matt? I thought Madison was on this case,” Collin said, getting up to shake Matt’s hand.
“Not anymore,” Matt answered, trying to balance a briefcase and a large Starbucks cup while clasping Collin’s hand. “You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?”
“She’s on sabbatical.” Matt placed his briefcase and coffee on the defense table. “Rumor has it she’s in the family way.” Matt lowered his voice as if this were the antebellum South when polite company refused to talk about pregnancy.
“Pregnant?” Collin felt like he’d been slapped. “How far along?”
Matt shrugged. “How should I know? All I can tell you is she was granted a few months off to figure it all out. At least, that’s the rumor. Everybody’s calling it a health issue, so it may be cancer for all we know...”
Matt continued to talk, but Collin was barely listening. Madison was pregnant? Collin remembered that they’d used a condom, although little good it had done them since it had broken sometime during the act. Or acts... He’d made the assumption she’d been on the pill because she’d told him, “Don’t worry about it.” Looked like he should’ve been worrying about it.
“...she gets to hang out on North Captiva for the summer, so it’s nice to be related to a partner.”
“What do you mean? She’s on North Captiva?”
“House-sitting for her uncle Rashad,” he said. “For the summer. That’s why I’m here, picking up her caseload while she has a health sabbatical or whatever.” Matt rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by the new developments, but Collin hardly noticed.
“The rumor is she’s pregnant, though?” Collin pressed. Suddenly the neckline of his crisp new shirt seemed too tight. Why hadn’t she told him if she was?
“That’s what Rashad’s paralegal said. She’s a notorious gossip, but she also sits outside the man’s office and has bionic hearing...” Matt shrugged again.
Collin felt hot and cold all at once. Madison was pregnant? With his child. Had to be his. She’d said that she hadn’t slept with anyone in more than a year...and something in his gut said Madison didn’t sleep around. She just wasn’t the type.
He needed to find out if it was true.
Because if she was carrying his baby, there was only one thing he could do.
He wasn’t going to be like his own father who had never been a true parent. The man who’d never bothered to marry his mother, even after she’d given birth to two children. No, he’d vowed to be the opposite of that man in every way possible. Then he remembered the timing. He had the next few months off. He’d get on a boat, head out to North Captiva and find out if Madison was pregnant or not.
Because if she was, there was no way he’d abandon his son or daughter. He’d have to marry her.
That was all there was to it.
CHAPTER ONE (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d)
MADISON REDDY CLUNG to the edge of the small ferry that was shuttling her from the Pine Island Transportation Center to North Captiva, a small island on the west coast of Florida, just north of Sanibel Island. Known for the big shells swept into the Gulf from the currents in the Atlantic and for its lack of cars, North Captiva housed three hundred residents. They navigated the four-mile long island via golf cart and bike. Madison’s uncle Rashad had been more than generous in giving her time off from her job and a place to stay for a few months while she figured out what she was going to do. Her uncle had married but never had children, and in some ways, he had adopted her as his own.
“Go there. Take a little time off,” her uncle had told her in his office when she’d revealed in tears that she was pregnant. “If you don’t want to have the baby, there’s an excellent clinic in Fort Myers. If you do, then that’s fine. You can spend your pregnancy there, have the baby and come back to the firm. Your job will be waiting for you.”
It sounded like a plan from a hundred years ago—hide an out-of-wedlock pregnancy, have the baby in secret and then pop back up in society. But frankly, Madison was just grateful that Uncle Rashad had saved the lectures and was simply letting her, as a thirty-year-old woman, make her own decisions.
Rashad had been like a father to her, ever since her father died when she was fourteen. Rashad was even more generous, she thought, than her father would’ve been, but that was how seriously he took his responsibility to look after her—and her mother.
Still, she did need some time off to work this out. Her brain felt like muddled mush, and she needed some distance and a few weeks to decide what she’d do next. Her gut already told her there was nothing to decide. She was going to keep the baby, but she had to figure out how.
“You can live with me, and we’ll raise her together,” her mother had offered over tea the previous afternoon. “Or him.” Her mom had retired from the firm last year, so she had ample time on her hands.
“Mom, I can’t...ask you to do that. You’ve earned your retirement.” More than earned it, being a single mom. Her mother, whose cool blue stare never left her face, tucked a strand of dark auburn hair behind her ear as she studied Madison.
“There’s no asking,” her mother had said as she leaned over the small table at the coffee shop and gave her only daughter a big hug. “You don’t have to ask me to do anything. It’s my pleasure. Whatever you decide, I’m with you.”
It had felt good to have her mom in her corner, but her mother had always been on her side, the two of them an inseparable team since her father died. Even with the support, though, Madison wasn’t sure how she’d make it work. Could she really ask her nearly seventy-year-old mother to watch a baby for fifty or sixty hours a week? It didn’t seem right. She could get a less demanding job at another firm, but then what? Less money? Now she had a baby to think about.
You could tell Collin, a small voice in her head whispered. Doesn’t he have a right to know?
She instantly swatted the annoying thought away like it was a mosquito. Tell him, so he has an opportunity to weigh in and insist she get an abortion? Forget it!
She assumed he’d be anti-baby. There wasn’t anything soft and fuzzy about the man, and he’d made it more than clear these last few months that he considered their one-night stand exactly that—one and done.
But right now, all she cared about was holding down her meager lunch of saltines and water. She clung to the ferry’s railing at the back of the boat, willing herself not to hurl as the crystal blue ocean sped by. Madison always prided herself on having a stomach made of steel; she never got food poisoning, and only once in her life ever had the stomach flu. She never even got a hangover. But...this...this was different.
Her stomach roiled and she leaned over the side of the railing but managed not to throw up. Not yet.
“Seasick?” asked a sympathetic elderly tourist sitting near her in the oversized pontoon boat, wearing a bright pink flamingo visor, raising her voice over the wind.
Madison’s face flamed as she hurried to wipe her mouth. This was so embarrassing. Seasickness? Never once in her life. “Uh, yeah,” she lied.
“Try to look at the horizon, that will help,” the lady offered. Madison nodded and then stared off into the distance, but she knew it would do no good.
Collin Baptista. She’d fallen victim to his green eyes, and the fit, muscular body that looked so good in those suits. Never mind that he was the most arrogant know-it-all prosecutor she’d ever met. Collin was all the things she hated about prosecutors—his full-of-himself, holier-than-thou attitude that somehow failed to rub juries the wrong way. He’d never met a defendant he thought might be innocent or, at the very least, deserve his sympathy. He’d once asked a jury to put James Miller, a nineteen-year-old kid with a partial scholarship to the University of Indiana, away for three years for shoplifting a pair of earbuds. Forget that the kid was stealing them as a Christmas present for his single mom who worked two jobs. True, he’d hit the security guard, who’d tried to stop him, although the guard had gotten away with just a black eye.
Collin had told the jury the kid was violent, but Madison thought the punch he’d thrown was a mistake he regretted. In some ways, they might have both been right; the kid could’ve gone on to be more violent the next time. Or he could’ve learned his lesson. Now, locked away in jail, he’d almost certainly become more violent in order to survive.
Madison saw the world in a hundred shades of gray, but Collin Baptista saw it in stark black and white. Guilty or innocent, right or wrong, no in-between. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen into bed with the man. But then again, she knew why: Jimmy Reese, the horrible white supremacist. They’d faced off as opposing counsel on that case, but in that one instance, they’d both agreed. The violent, hateful man needed to be in jail. The fact that they had common ground at all was a turn-on, one she hadn’t expected.
Besides, she knew herself. She was attracted to overconfident men, and Collin was their poster boy. He possessed unwavering confidence, an ability to command the room and a certain fearlessness. Once, when a convicted murderer got loose in the courtroom, he’d simply clotheslined the man as he made a run for the exit, laying him flat on the floor before the bailiff could even react. Nobody would ever accuse Collin Baptista of being a pencil-neck lawyer. He oozed alpha-male sex appeal, and she was the first to admit she liked it.
And she wasn’t the only one. He had a reputation for loving and leaving the ladies, had slept with half the female clerks in the courthouse. He was known for never being serious, never having a steady girlfriend, always playing the field. After their night together, when Collin pretended it had never happened, she ought to have seen that coming. She’d only been yet another challenge, the charismatic young prosecutor who had women falling at his feet. Still, the rejection had hurt her pride.
Just add it to the list of jerks I’ve slept with. Not that it was a big list, but still. If there was a jerk in the room, she’d find him every time.
She was not going let him know their one-night stand had resulted in a pregnancy. Sure, she could go after him for child support, but she wasn’t a charity case. She could take care of herself...and this baby. She just needed to work out a plan. He’d left her messages lately, but she’d doggedly refused to respond to them. He’d only said, We need to talk, which could mean anything, and besides, the last thing she wanted to do was be on the phone with the county’s most dangerous cross-examiner, known for his ability to eviscerate an unwilling witness. She knew if she talked to Collin, her resolve to keep the pregnancy secret would dissolve. Another wave of nausea hit her as she leaned over the side of the railing and lost the saltines she’d tried so hard to keep in her stomach. Baby, you’re making this really hard on us both, she mentally scolded. How am I supposed to feed you if you eject everything I eat?
She wiped her mouth with a tissue and sighed. Nobody ever mentioned that morning sickness could actually be morning, noon and night sickness. One more thing about pregnancy she never knew. Just like the bone-tired fatigue that would creep up on her at all hours of the day and the pregnancy hormones rushing around her body, inducing her to cry at the drop of a dime. She’d even gotten teary at a car rental commercial last night. Madison shook her head. The pregnancy was already making her soft.
If only her friends from high school knew. They’d voted her least likely to have a family and most likely to own a business by twenty-five. Madison had always focused on her career and made her personal life secondary. But Madison wasn’t about to apologize for her ambition. She wasn’t going to be like her mother: a stay-at-home mom who’d been completely unprepared for the workforce when her husband had suddenly died. They’d had several hard years, with her mother cleaning homes and working odd jobs, before her uncle helped her mom get paralegal training and then hired her in his own firm. Madison had watched her mother struggle and vowed never to be so unprepared. Family and kids weren’t her priority—financial security was.
The shore of North Captiva came closer as the small ferry approached the dock. Madison recognized the North Captiva Island Club, home to swimming pools, boat rentals and the island’s best restaurant. She saw the golf carts lined up in the small dirt parking lot near the office, the bright Florida sunshine bathing everything in a warm glow. She remembered the island from when she was a kid and her parents had taken her there on vacation, using her uncle’s house. Now, as an adult, she welcomed the getaway. Here, she could think. Figure out what she planned to do. Alone.
“Hope you feel better, dear,” the woman in the flamingo pink hat said as she moved past her to climb off the boat. Madison followed, and once her sneakered feet hit the wooden dock, she instantly felt better. Either it had been the boat making her morning sickness worse, or she was just relieved to be back in the place that held so many prized childhood memories. Uncle Rashad had been very generous to her mother and her, hosting them every summer, even after her father died. The clubhouse had received a new coat of paint since she’d last been to the island, a few years back, but otherwise, everything seemed the same.
Madison glanced at the line of golf carts parked near the tennis courts and didn’t see her uncle’s telltale silver four-seater, the one that looked less like a golf cart and more like a dune buggy. Usually the North Captiva club staff had everything waiting for guests, including transportation from the dock. Burly workers flexed their muscles as they took cargo from the ferry to the shore—crates of food, luggage, coolers. The island might be remote, but it was hardly rustic. As the crew unloaded her luggage and her plastic bin of groceries, Madison headed into the main office.
She saw Yvana Davis, the resort’s manager she adored and had known most of her life, standing behind the counter. The woman wore a uniform of a golf shirt and khakis, accessorized with sparkling dangle earrings and a colorful scarf around her head. There was no way Yvana was going to let the club dress code cramp her style. Now, however, a frown replaced her usual smile. She was trying to deal with what seemed to be an unruly tourist.
“But there are spiders,” cried the forty-something brunette, who wore a floor-length wrap dress and sparkly slip-on flats and held a quivering lapdog in her arms.
“Inside your house?” Yvana asked, raising a dark eyebrow and putting one hand on a generous hip. Yvana made eye contact with Madison and gave her a nod of recognition.
“No, outside,” whined the woman with the Boston accent. Madison, meanwhile, felt the nausea return. She didn’t know if it was because of the woman’s nasal voice or the fact that it was a little hot inside the office, but she was definitely feeling sick again.
Yvana pursed her lips. “Honey, this is Florida. We got bugs bigger than your dog. Hell, our bugs will eat that adorable little thing.”
Madison hid a smile. That much was true.
“Well, I’m just asking someone to spray,” the indignant woman said. “And...the garbage just... It just stinks. It’s thoroughly disgusting. The dumpster’s full of rotten fish and goodness knows what else, and it was full before we arrived...”
At the idea of fish rotting in the hot Florida sun, Madison’s stomach lurched. Please stop talking about trash. Or I’m going to hurl. Again.
She glanced around for a bathroom...a trashcan...but found nothing. I can hold it, she thought. I can will myself not to throw up... And the woman will stop talking about trash. Any minute now.
“Trash pickup isn’t till tomorrow,” Yvana said, tapping her pink nails on the counter and clearly starting to lose her patience.
“Well, something needs to be done. There’s rotten eggs in there, something that smells like spoiled meatloaf and probably some awful shrimp salad and...”
Madison lost it. Her reaction came hard and fast with no time to react. Even as she tried to cover her mouth, she threw up what little was left in her stomach—she was surprised there was anything—all over the tourist’s sparkly shoes.
“Oh...my Gawd!” shrieked the woman. “What on earth...” Her face twisted in revulsion.
“I am so very sorry. I...” Madison wanted to say she was pregnant, but she couldn’t get the words out, not with the angry woman glaring at her. “Let me see if I can help...” Madison moved forward but the woman batted her away with one hand.
“Get away from me!” she cried, backing off while clutching her dog.
Yvana obviously couldn’t resist, as she instantly emitted a cackle. “Well, goodness me. That is something. Want a tissue?” Yvana held out a tissue box to the tourist, who frowned at the offering as if it had spider legs. Yvana gave one to Madison instead.
“Maddie, here, child.” Her expression softened instantly. “You okay? You look like death warmed over!”
“I’m not contagious... I’m just...” She clutched at her mouth once more.
Yvana jumped into action, tugging a trash can from behind the counter up to her. “Here, honey.”
Madison grabbed the metal wastebasket. Luckily, nothing more came up.
“These were designer shoes. They’re ruined and...they cost $200 retail, and now...” The tourist stomped her feet.
“I’m happy to pay for them,” Madison said, wondering where she was going to find an extra $200. Her budget was tight, and even with the money she’d tucked away, she was about to take unpaid leave from work and she needed every dime she had.
The woman wasn’t placated. “I ought to sue,” she threatened. The tiny white dog in the crook of her arm barked as if he agreed.
“Careful,” Yvana warned. “This lady is one of the best lawyers in town. If you sue, you’re going to lose, sister.”
The tourist’s face grew more pinched. She opened and closed her mouth, seemingly at a loss for what to say. Her cheeks grew redder than a ripe tomato.
“Well, I’ve never had such poor service in all my life. Do I have to call your supervisor?” The annoyed woman hugged her little dog to her chest and delicately lifted one foot to shake off some of Madison’s vomit.
Madison just shook her head. Yvana didn’t have a supervisor. She damn near ran this place and nobody was foolish enough to go toe-to-toe with the woman who owned a fourth of the island and knew everyone. An older resident on the island had left his entire share to her when he passed away five years ago—she was the one who’d cared for him and he’d had no living children.
Yvana had a heart bigger than the Gulf of Mexico but also a temper that was legendary. You got on her good side, and Yvana would do anything for you, but get on her bad side, and you might not have your power turned on for days.
Yvana narrowed her eyes at the indignant tourist.
“Mm, hm.” Yvana gave her a once-over. “My supervisor is out,” she lied, since she was her own supervisor. “But I’ll write a note and make sure she gets it.”
“Well,” the tourist muttered. “I...”
Yvana glared at her and then turned back to Madison.
“Maddie, honey. Sit down before you fall down.” Yvana put her back to the other woman who, with nothing more to do, stepped out of her shoes and bent down to pick them up, careful to keep her fingers clean. She headed out of the office in a huff. Yvana ignored her and moved Madison over to a chair, then scurried over with the tissues she’d held out to her earlier.
Madison reached out as if to start trying to mop up the spill.
“No, no. Sit. I’ll call someone from the janitorial staff to handle that,” Yvana said.
“I am so sorry. God, how embarrassing. I normally don’t do this. I never get sick.” Madison sat down in the chair still feeling a little woozy as Yvana fetched an unopened water bottle from her desk and handed it to her.
“Not every day that you’re pregnant, either,” Yvana said, tilting her head to one side.
Madison stopped mid-drink, stunned. “How did you know that?”
“Oh, I just know.” Yvana looked so serious that for a second Madison worried that she’d somehow begun to show, although her stomach was still flat. Yvana threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, I’m kidding, honey. Rashad told me.”
“Uncle Rashad! He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone!” Madison grumbled, wishing she’d been more explicit with her uncle about this being a private matter.
“Oh, he swore me to secrecy, don’t you worry,” Yvana said. “He just wanted me to know because he asked me to keep an eye on you. And by the look of things—” she nodded at the mess on the floor “—you might need a little bit of TLC.”
“I’m fine.” Madison wiped her mouth with a tissue. “I just need some rest and—if this baby will ever let me keep anything down—some food.”
“Soda water, then, and I might have something that could help settle your stomach. Something I ate when I was pregnant with my twin boys.” Yvana rolled her eyes. “Thought I’d about die from that pregnancy. I threw up right till the end of the second trimester. I never let those boys forget it, either.”
Yvana grinned, and Madison had to laugh. She shook her head and glanced out the window to see the tourist throwing away her shoes in a nearby trash can. Then the woman hobbled in the hot sand over to a waiting golf cart that a man—her husband, Madison presumed—was sitting in and got into the passenger seat, fuming.
“I should apologize to her again,” Madison said.
“You’ll do no such thing. One apology was enough for her. She’s been in my office every day since they got here, complaining about everything under the sun. She once came in here and complained about there being too much sand. On a beach. Can you imagine?” Yvana slapped her side. “She’s worse than my ex-husband. He’d complain about the heat if the sun was shining and the damp if it was raining. Never could be satisfied, just like that woman. That, Maddie, was pure payback.”
Madison smiled. She hadn’t heard anyone call her Maddie for a long time. It was a name reserved for people who’d known her since she was little, the nickname her father gave her when she was a baby. She’d visited North Captiva all her life, but it had been her special refuge after her father died. She and her mother had lived in her uncle’s house for nearly a year. She’d known Yvana most of her life and was grateful to the big-hearted woman who’d always looked after her.
“I didn’t see Rashad’s golf cart...” Madison said, nodding her head toward the window.
“No?” Yvana peered out. “Huh. I told Gus to get it, but he must be backed up today. Don’t you worry. I can drive you. The front office can watch itself for five minutes. But first, let me call someone to deal with this mess.”
* * *
YVANA EXPERTLY MANEUVERED the small tan-and-green golf cart emblazoned with the North Captiva Club logo through the sand trails of the island. A simple white post marked most turnoffs and to a visitor’s eye, easy to miss. Ahead of them, tourists who were new to the island studied a map, then scratched their heads. Yvana pulled over to help them find their way. Phone GPS didn’t work well here, and one sand-lined trail looked pretty much like another. As she waited, Madison craned her neck back to catch the sun’s rays, feeling comfortably warm and much less sick to her stomach. It must be the island weather, she thought. She was already starting to feel better. More hopeful.
Yvana asked the tourists if they needed help, but they waved her off, determined to find their own way.
“Tourists,” Yvana said as she waved at them and hit the gas. “They might get to their place before the end of the week.” Pity laced her voice. She took a sharp left then by a big white house with a wraparound porch, and a moment later, they were speeding along a little lagoon spotted with ducks and a couple of white cranes. Above them, a canopy of palm trees provided shade as they sped by in the little cart.
“Not any of my business,” Yvana said, “but you know what you’re going to do? About the baby?”
“I’m going to keep it. I’m not sure how. Mom offered to babysit, but I think that’s a lot to ask of her.”
“You got time to sort it out,” Yvana said, keeping her eyes on the road. “What about the father? What’s he doing in all this?”
Madison sucked in a breath. “Haven’t told him.” She thought of Collin’s smug face, his always-right smile. Won’t ever, either.
Yvana’s head swiveled, and she glanced at Madison’s profile.
“Is it because he’s the running type or the marrying type?”
Madison let out a long, tired breath. “I don’t know. Which one is the me-first type? Hell, me-first and me-only?”
Yvana chuckled. “Oh, then, well, that ain’t going to work at all. He’d get a rude awakening when he found out the baby always comes first.” The breeze ruffled her colorful head scarf. “But don’t you worry, honey. You’ll figure it out.”
Madison hoped so.
Yvana took a hard right onto a road nearly covered by brush, and a yellow daffodil hit her knee as they turned into her uncle’s long driveway. It almost felt as if they were ducking into some deserted rain forest, but then the path widened and she saw the sandy yard, the big blue two-story house on stilts, making it as tall as your average three-story building. Yvana swung the cart into the little circular sand drive, letting Madison off at the steps.
“Looks like the guys already brought your luggage,” Yvana said. Madison saw her suitcase and grocery tote sitting on the front porch near the front door.
“Thanks for the lift, Yvana.”
“No worries. And if you need anything, you call me, you hear? Anything at all. Pickles and ice cream, even.”
Madison turned and leaned into the golf cart and gave Yvana a big hug, tears pushing out from behind her closed eyelids. Damn these pregnancy hormones.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Yvana returned the hug. “You bet,” she said. “Take care of yourself. And I’ll be by later with that remedy I told you about. It’ll settle your stomach in no time.”
“Thank you,” Madison said once more, brimming with gratitude. Looking at Yvana’s smiling face, she couldn’t help thinking that everything would somehow be okay.
“See you later!” Yvana called. Madison nodded as Yvana took off around the circle. She walked up the front porch steps, a whole story’s worth, to accommodate the stilts. Most homes on the island included two livable stories, but stood three stories high. Flooding was common on the island, especially during hurricane season. She marched up to the front door, framed by full-length glass windows, her first objective being to put away the groceries she’d brought in a cooler from Fort Myers. Meantime, her stomach rumbled. If it wasn’t nauseated, it was hungry. Decide already, she thought. She didn’t know how much more of this yo-yo effect she could take. This was going to be a long nine months.
CHAPTER TWO (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d)
COLLIN SAT ON the ferry beneath the blistering afternoon sun and just wanted to be there already. He’d driven to the ferry station, parked and then taken an old passenger van down to the shore, where he’d boarded a small pontoon-style boat with about ten other tourists headed to North Captiva. He was currently sitting between a little boy kneeling on the seat and facing the water, hands on the edge of the boat as if he might fly off any second, and a teenager whose eyes had never left her phone. It was the only seat left, and he was lucky to have it, but now he simply wished the ferry ride to be over. He needed to see Madison.
Collin knew the baby was his. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew it. The second Matt had said Madison was pregnant, he’d felt that it was true. Sure, he could be wrong. Hell, Madison might not even be pregnant, but he trusted his instincts. Collin’s mother had been extremely superstitious; she’d claimed ESP—or what she called really good hunches—ran in their family. Collin had never put much stock in it. He didn’t believe in hocus-pocus, but he did believe in good instincts. That was exactly how he could tell a witness on the stand was lying—or about to lie. He’d become notorious for trapping shaky witnesses, dominating the cross-examination. Maybe that was the family hunch at work.
All he knew was that Madison was doggedly refusing to answer his calls. He’d left her a dozen messages, had texted, emailed—basically, he’d done everything but try to send her a telegraph. She was avoiding him, and he was going to find out why.
Collin glanced at a couple on the other end of the boat beneath the shade of the awning. The woman had a baby strapped to her in a sling, and her husband was making faces at the little one. He wondered how old the infant was—he or she was so tiny. He realized, with a start, that he’d only ever held his niece, but that was long after she was six months old and big enough to hold her head up—not like this fragile newborn across the way. He had no idea how to hold a baby that small. His niece, Sari, was six, loved knock-knock jokes and was easy to entertain. He’d missed the first half year of her life because his sister and her husband had been in the Philippines for work when she was born. Now, they were stateside again, and he’d spent the last four Thanksgivings at their house.
He reached into his pocket and felt for the small black velvet box there. He had a brand new one-carat princess-cut solitaire set in platinum inside. It probably wouldn’t fit Madison’s finger, but the salesclerk had assured him it could be sized. Collin knew the power of a big gesture, and he had one planned—although, the roses he’d bought at the grocery store stop-off before he’d reached the ferry were looking a little wilted in the heat. Not unlike me, he thought. He wore shorts and a polo, but he wished he had his swim trunks on so he could just jump into the bay and swim for it. The Florida sun was brutal today. It had beaten down on him mercilessly since he’d gotten one of the only seats in the sun. He swiped at his brow.
He’d been running through everything he planned to tell Madison when she swung open that door: Do me the honor of being my wife or Let’s be a family or This means we’re meant to be together. Suddenly, more sweat rolled down his temples. Was it the sun or were nerves getting to him? He felt jittery.
He texted his elder sister, Sophia. They’d been thick as thieves growing up, relying on each other as their single mom worked long hours to care for them after their father went to jail. It had been a poor childhood, and in some ways hard, but not an unhappy one. Sophia had made sure of that, even though she babysat him when she was barely more than a child herself. She could easily have slipped into poor choices, but instead she’d taken her responsibilities seriously, and she’d managed to make straight As. She’d pushed him to do better as well, which was the reason he’d opted for law school.
On the ferry... I’m nervous.
Collin had already talked to her about Madison and the baby and his plan the night before.
You have no reason to be nervous. Any woman would be lucky to have you.
Collin wasn’t sure that was true.
Yes, but she wasn’t exactly happy with me, remember?
Whose fault was that?
That is NOT helping.
Collin was beating himself up about the way he’d handled the aftermath of their night together. He’d not exactly been sensitive. Or, even nice about it.
Listen, guy-who-got-asked-to-the-prom-by-FIVE-different-girls, I think you’ll do fine. Really, I do. And what’s the worst that can happen? You offer to do the right thing and she turns you down? Then, you avoid a shotgun wedding, and it’s probably for the best.
Collin felt a pit in his stomach open up. That was not what he wanted, actually. He wanted a family; he wanted this situation to work out. It might not be the way he’d planned it, but as far back as he could remember, he’d wanted kids, a traditional family, like he’d never had. Sophia texted again.
You sure you want to do this? Propose to a stranger?
They weren’t exactly strangers. He remembered flashes of their night together—a melding of bodies, heat, desire. He recalled being wowed by her, that her body was even more perfect than he’d guessed. The fact that he might see that same body tonight sent a shiver of anticipation through him.
Besides, he knew couples who’d dated for years before tying the knot, only to get divorced half a dozen years down the road. You could live with a person for a decade and he or she could still surprise you, so why not marry a stranger?
I don’t have any doubt that we can make this work. I want a family. I want my child to be raised right.
Sophia sent him a heart face.
That’s why I love you, little brother. You’ve got a big heart. Don’t worry. You’ll do fine. She’s lucky to have you.
The sun relentlessly bore down on his head and Collin wondered if he should’ve worn sunscreen. He wiped his brow again as he saw the island before him grow larger. Almost there. The baby at the other end of the boat let out a cry. The mother bounced the child in her little sling, but the cries just got louder. Collin glanced at the dad, who helped the mother untangle the baby and then took him in his arms, but he wailed even louder. He wore a blue onesie, so Collin assumed he was a boy. No matter what they did, the baby just kept fussing, growing ever more red-faced and angry. Collin wondered why they couldn’t make him stop crying.
Then the mother lifted up her shirt and Collin glanced away, hoping to give her some privacy. Did Madison want to breastfeed? Didn’t doctors say that was healthier? He didn’t really know. He glazed over when that kind of news came on. His interest in breasts had nothing to do with babies or milk.
The boat landed at the dock with a little thump, and the passengers started to file out—all but the mother, who sat with her baby a little longer. Collin moved past, careful to keep his eyes averted as he stepped out onto the dock. The father of the baby struggled with the gear, and Collin lent a helping hand, picking up the stroller and assisting the father in maneuvering it down to the dock.
“Thanks,” the man said, looking tired and sporting deep dark circles under his eyes. Collin wondered when the man had last slept through the night.
“No problem,” Collin said. “Beautiful baby you have there,” he added, even though the baby’s head was covered in a burp cloth as he finished his afternoon snack.
“Yeah, good thing, too.” The tired dad shook his head. “They’re a handful.”
Soon I’ll have a baby, too. I’ll be just like this dad.
He glanced at the man whose shirt was wrinkled, his socks mismatched. Collin noticed a white stain on his shirt. Baby drool? Baby spit-up? The momentary unease left him, and he felt like his old confident self again. Collin had never met a challenge he hadn’t happily faced head-on. Not that women had ever been a problem, at least not since his freshman year of high school—after he’d had the growth spurt that launched him from five-one to five-eleven in a single year. He’d spent most of his twenties and, so far, his thirties leaping from one casual encounter to another. He hadn’t ever pursued a serious relationship, in large part because his job was so demanding. He barely had time for anything more.
But now, he’d have to make time. Somehow. He’d do it.
There was no way he’d ever be like his own father.
Collin remembered daycare, when the other kids were making gifts for their dads for Father’s Day and he’d been one of the few who hadn’t. The teacher had told him to draw a picture for his mom instead, but Collin never forgot the slow burn of embarrassment, feeling the hole in his life where his father should have been.
No. He wouldn’t do that to his son.
Because, oddly enough, he knew it would be a boy. That certainty had just come to him...
The other guests from the boat ambled over to the waiting golf carts, apparently regulars on the island. Probably homeowners here, he thought, as they seemed to know exactly what to do. He still found it weird that there were no cars on North Captiva.
The island was prettier than he’d expected. Colorful tropical flowers lined the dock and the sandy path leading to the parked golf carts. He could see tennis courts in the distance and signs that led to a large pool and bar.
Collin, at a bit of a loss, wandered into the front office. He’d looked up Madison’s uncle’s house in the public record, but he wanted to find out if he could rent a golf cart to get there.
Inside the office, he found a large amiable woman behind the counter, wearing sparkly, dangling earrings, a colorful scarf over her head and a big smile on her face. Her age was impossible to guess. Forty? Fifty? Her name tag read Yvana. He presented her with his most charming smile as he set down his backpack that held two changes of clothes and his laptop. He didn’t know how long he’d stay, but his plan was to convince Madison to come home with him.
She gave him a slow once-over in response, a sweep of judgment, and he could sense he met her approval.
“I’m Collin Baptista,” he said, leaning on her desk.
“You have a reservation, hon?” she asked him.
“Uh...no, not exactly.” This was where it might get odd. “So, I need your help... Yvana.”
The woman’s eyebrows rose, and he knew she was trying to decide whether or not he was worthy of her help. He was an excellent reader of people. Tread carefully here.
“Well, that depends on what you need.” Yvana studied him.
“I want to ask your advice. If you were going to propose to a woman, where would you do it?” Collin pulled the velvet box from his pocket and flashed the engagement ring.
Yvana fanned her face. “Oh, my, that is gorgeous! You sure you don’t want to just propose to me? That ring would look perfect on me.”
He laughed. “Don’t tempt me,” he said, and she laughed, too.
“Who’s the lucky girl?” Yvana tapped a bright fingernail on the counter.
Collin hesitated, wondering if he should be so forthcoming. But he knew he’d have to be. He needed her help.
“Oh, sugar, you can tell me. I’ve got to have the details if we’re going to make sure she doesn’t say no.”
Collin shrugged. What was the harm? He wanted Yvana’s help, and pretty soon he and Madison would be engaged, anyway, so what would it matter?
“Her name is Madison,” he said.
Yvana just stared at him for a second. “Madison Reddy?”
“You know her?” Collin couldn’t hide his surprise.
“I’ve known her for years. Since she was this big.” Yvana held up her hand about waist-high. Now she studied him even more closely, like a bug under a microscope. “You going to make her happy?”
“I plan to try,” he said honestly.
“Hmm.” Yvana nodded thoughtfully. “Does she know you’re coming?”
“Nope.”
Yvana put one hand on her hip. “So, you show up here without a reservation and a ring and think...you’re going to propose, just like that?”
The doubt on Yvana’s face made him pause.
“Uh...right. That’s right.” Collin nodded. He glanced out the window, as he saw a golf cart speed by. “Something wrong with that plan?”
Yvana shrugged one shoulder. “Oh, honey, that’s not for me to decide.” She chuckled, then picked up the phone. “Let me call her and see if she’s willing to see you.”
Willing to see me? Now Collin was definitely feeling anxious. He thought about all the times she’d refused his calls.
“How about you just tell me how to get to her house and I’ll surprise her? It’s number fifty-nine, Harbor Bend Road?” He pulled out the printout from his pocket, the result of his search for her uncle’s property.
“Oh, I know where it is.” Yvana picked up the phone and punched in the number. “Maddie, sugar?” she said.
Maddie? Collin had never heard her called that before.
“I’ve got a male visitor here for you. His name is...” She cupped the receiver with one hand. “What’s your name again, hon?”
“Collin.”
“Collin’s here. He wants me to take him to you, but I thought I’d...” She paused, listening. “Oh, I see. Mmm, hmm. Is that right? Well, now.” She studied him, frowning. What was Madison telling her? “Oh... I see.” She eyed him. “All right, then. Don’t you worry none. I can handle this.”
Was Madison refusing to see him? That didn’t compute with Collin. He’d driven all this way, paid for the ferry, lugged this one-carat perfectly cut diamond from Fort Myers—and it had never occurred to him that it might be a wasted trip.
“You take care of yourself, you hear?” Yvana said and then hung up. She focused her dark brown eyes on him.
“What was all that about?” Collin asked, but Yvana ignored him. Her body language made it clear that she had no intention of sharing any details.
“Well, how about you wait out there on that bench?” Yvana said sweetly, pointing to the bench near the line of parked golf carts bathed in North Captiva sunlight. “I’ll get Gus to drive you. He’s running a few patrons out to their houses, but he should be back in fifteen or so.”
“Maybe I could just walk?” he offered. He didn’t want to wait that long. The ring felt suddenly heavy in his pocket. It belonged on Madison’s finger.
“Oh, honey, you’d get lost.” She shook her head, then gave him a big smile. “Wait right there. Gus will come by. You sure you don’t want me to hold on to that ring for you?”
Collin chuckled. “No, I’d rather keep it, thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” The phone rang and Yvana picked it up. “Hello, North Captiva Club,” she sang. Collin let himself out, the cool breeze from the beach ruffling his hair. He looked at a line of tropical flowers. There were worse places to wait, he figured, as he headed to the bench in the shade. He slumped down and checked his watch. He’d come this far. What was another fifteen minutes?
CHAPTER THREE (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d)
COLLIN BAPTISTA WAS HERE.
Madison paced her uncle’s third-story deck in a panic. She bit her thumb as she glanced out over the treetops toward the ocean, which sparkled blue in the distance. Collin had found her. How? Did he know she was pregnant? God, she hoped not. Then again, she remembered that her uncle had spilled the beans to Yvana. Was he trying to play matchmaker with Collin, too?
No. He couldn’t do that. She hadn’t told him who the father was, after all.
Would Collin have been able to find out some other way?
She’d steadfastly refused his calls. Surely, he would’ve gotten the message that she wasn’t interested. Besides, why was he even interested? And why now? He’d been more than clear that he didn’t want a relationship. I don’t date defense attorneys. Wasn’t that what he’d said? No, he doesn’t date them. Just sleeps with them, that’s all, she thought bitterly. And then dumps them like garbage the very next day. She remembered how coldly he’d treated her. She got that it had been one night, but she had assumed he’d enjoyed it as much as she had. Obviously, that hadn’t been the case. She’d thought the sex had been...exceptional, and yet he’d treated her as if it had been the worst night of his life. Maybe it had been. That idea was painful. He hadn’t felt the connection, the spark that she had.
She ought to see him, but part of her felt scared. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep the baby a secret, and the anxiety of seeing him roiled her stomach so that her morning—now officially afternoon sickness—had returned. She told Yvana to stall him while she figured out what to do. She couldn’t flee; the next ferry wasn’t for an hour at least, and she’d have to walk right past him to get on it. She could hope he’d get tired and leave, but what she knew of Collin told her he was a tenacious fighter who wouldn’t give up easily.
What was he doing here?
Calm down, she told herself. Just calm down and think. A million different thoughts flooded her mind.
He knew. He had to know about the baby. Was he here to tell her to get an abortion?
She clenched her teeth at that possibility. She wasn’t going to do it.
What to do?
Her brain suddenly didn’t want to work. Ever since she’d stared at those two pink lines on the pregnancy test, she’d felt that her brain had gone into slow-mo mode, and she’d lost all ability to make a decision. Now, faced with Collin here, on North Captiva, she’d need to decide. If she told Yvana to get rid of him, she would. But was that what she really wanted? She wasn’t sure.
What she did know was that she still wasn’t over the sting of rejection she’d felt when he failed to call her the morning after their drunken tryst. She’d texted him—twice—and he hadn’t bothered to respond. The curt nod she’d gotten in the courthouse the next morning had told her all she needed to know—she was a one-night stand, a mistake he didn’t intend to repeat. She should’ve seen it coming. I don’t date defense attorneys, he’d warned her over drinks. It’d be a bad career move.
She ought to have walked away from him right then and there. Yet, she hadn’t. It was his green eyes, she thought, almost gray, striking with his tanned complexion, set off by his jet-black hair. He wore it longish and wavy on top, short at the sides. He was shrewd, but that wasn’t what had made her stay for a drink. It was his surprising show of empathy that day.
“Nobody said this job was easy,” he’d murmured as he sidled up to her at the bar at Pete’s, down the street from the courthouse in Fort Myers. “I know you had a rough week. Buy you a drink?”
Rough didn’t begin to cover it. Two days ago, she’d had to tell the mother of a nineteen-year-old that he was going to prison for seven years. He stole a car because someone had left it running with the keys in it. A crime of opportunity. But he’d messed up badly—because the car had had a baby in the back seat. That automatically made it a felony.
The teenager wasn’t a bad kid, just rudderless; he’d spent his life in an impoverished neighborhood. Nevertheless, his carelessness had left a mother in a panic, and worse, he’d abandoned the car with the baby still inside. Thankfully, a cop had spotted it, but if that hadn’t happened...the baby could’ve overheated, could’ve died. Poor decision-making and bad luck meant he was going away for seven years, and he’d come out harder. Maybe even more violent. There was nothing reforming about the prison system.
And then, in the afternoon, she’d had to represent a white supremacist—her! Madison was about as brown as a person could get. But Jimmy Reese was a KKK member who’d tried to shoot a black man and hit a white twelve-year-old instead. She couldn’t imagine getting a worse case. She’d lost the one case and then gotten another that she hoped very much to lose.
“You planning to cut a deal for Jimmy?” he’d asked her.
She slowly shook her head. Jimmy had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to cop a plea. “No, he wants to tell the whole court how patriotic he is for trying to kill anybody who isn’t white.”
Collin just rolled his eyes. “You gonna defend that?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head again. “It’s indefensible.”
“I say we both need a drink,” he said. “Come on, let me buy you one. A drink can make you feel better,” he promised. “Or it’ll make you feel much, much worse. Either way, you won’t be where you are right now.”
She’d had to laugh at that.
That was why she’d accepted Collin’s offer of a drink. And the second. And the third.
And that led to...a night she wouldn’t forget. Boy, the man had skills. He was gorgeous and he possessed a magical touch. It almost wasn’t fair.
Her phone rang. She picked it up.
“You still want me to stall this guy?” Yvana asked. How long had it been since she’d called the first time? Half an hour?
“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted.
“Well, this Collin guy has been in here twice, asking me when his ride is coming, but you and I both know there ain’t no ride. Not unless you say so.”
“Where is he now?” Madison bit her lip. She didn’t want to see him, and yet how long could she really stall?
“Waiting on that bench, but he’s going to start walking soon, and you know how this island is for newbies... He’ll be wandering around for days trying to find your house.” Yvana clucked her tongue.
“I know, I just...” Madison hesitated. Her mind whirled like an old computer with long outdated software. She couldn’t decide. Talk to him and get it over with? Should she do that?
“He’s cute. You didn’t mention that.”
Madison felt a blush creep up her cheek. She knew he was and that women noticed him, but hearing it confirmed didn’t help.
“I mean, I can see why you knocked boots. He’s got muscles that go on...forever.”
“Yvana!” Madison cried. Yvana cackled her delight into the phone.
“Just stating the obvious,” Yvana said. “Don’t worry, sugar. He’s far too young for me. So, it’s not his looks that are keeping you away. Why not let this fine man—the father of your baby, I assume—come see you? What’s wrong with him? Aside from the fact that you could bounce quarters off those abs. Which isn’t a problem unless you want a softer man to snuggle with.”
Madison laughed. “He doesn’t know. About the baby.”
“You sure about that, honey?” Yvana sounded suddenly very skeptical.
“Thought I was. I didn’t tell him.”
“Well, he sure is anxious to see you, and I don’t think it’s got anything to do with asking you out for drinks.”
Madison considered this. She glanced out her uncle’s kitchen window. Since the house stood on stilts, even the first floor was raised. She could see the tops of some shorter palm trees swaying in the breeze outside. “I just... He wasn’t very nice to me.” Ignoring her wasn’t nice. Not nice at all. And now, he’d shown up out of the blue... He had to know about the pregnancy. There could be no other explanation. “And there’s no way he’s ready to be a parent.” She remembered how easily he’d fought to have a nineteen-year-old put behind bars. What kind of father would he make? A heartless one, probably. “He’s full of himself, so how can he even focus on a baby?”
“Hmm, well, that could be trouble,” Yvana agreed. “But maybe he’s turned over a new leaf. He’s been waiting in the sun for half an hour, so that gets him points in my book. Why don’t you let me bring him to you? I’ve got a feeling you’ll want to hear what he has to say.”
What could that be? Madison wondered.
* * *
COLLIN GOT TIRED of waiting, so he set off down the sandy path in what he hoped was the right direction. He glanced back at the office once, but Yvana wasn’t moving fast enough for his taste. Patience had never been his strong suit. He would wait for a golf cart no more. Collin pulled up the address on his phone, but the signal was weak and the map kept spinning—and at one stage, his phone told him he was walking in the ocean when he was a good twenty feet from the bay. He adjusted the heavy backpack on his shoulders, now second-guessing the idea of bringing his laptop. What “work” was he going to do? He’d said goodbye to the office before he left, and they’d had a send-off with cake and everything, and he was now happily enjoying all those vacation days he’d stockpiled but never used. Yet, he’d never been without work for so long in his whole career that he’d packed the laptop as a matter of course.
The hot North Captiva sun beat down on him. Sweat poured from his forehead and dripped into his eyes, making them sting. He wished he’d had the foresight to bring a hat. Or some sunscreen. But when was the last time he’d been on an island? On a vacation of any kind? He thought a moment. It had been before law school. Ten years without a proper vacation. He spent what little time off he took during holidays at his sister’s house with her family. His sister was expecting again, and he’d be an uncle soon—for the second time.
Collin trudged down the sandy path, singing birds flitting from tree to tree beside him. Sweat continued to sting his eyes, and he squinted at his phone. It was useless. He’d have to ask someone for directions. He came to the first fork in the road, and paused, swatting at a mosquito buzzing around his face. This was beginning to get silly. He’d have to turn around and head back to the front office, or maybe flag down someone who might know where he needed to go. He couldn’t believe an island that was just four miles long and a half-mile wide could be so confounding.
That was when he heard the whirl of a small engine behind him. He turned to see Yvana driving a beige golf cart with the green logo of the North Captiva Club on the hood.
“Well, Lord, aren’t you in a hurry?” she cried. “You want to get heat stroke out here? Get in.”
Glad to have a lift, Collin climbed into the cart, his shirt damp with sweat. “Thought you forgot about me.”
“Oh, there’s no way I could, believe me.” Yvana eyed Collin as she drove down a path that led them by a large lagoon. A big white crane stabbed at a fish in the middle of the water, coming up with a mouthful and gobbling it down. “So, you plan on getting down on one knee or...”
Yvana let the question hang there.
Collin hadn’t thought about it.
“I don’t know,” he said because he hadn’t thought much about that part.
Yvana slammed on the brakes, nearly sending him out the open front of the cart. He grasped his bag, which had almost went flying as well.
“You want her to say yes, don’t you?”
“Oh, she’s going to say yes.” He had a steady job and he’d offer security, and this way their son wouldn’t be a bastard. Not that legitimacy seemed to matter anymore, an old-fashioned concept as most people saw it these days. But still. It was the principle of the thing.
“You think so?” Yvana eyed him with doubt.
“I know so.”
Yvana threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, she’s right. You are a little full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“What did she say about—” Collin didn’t get to finish the sentence because Yvana took the next turn at a speed she probably shouldn’t have, and he nearly fell out of his seat. Once he’d righted himself, he heard Yvana laughing.
“This is going to be fun. Yes, it is.”
* * *
MADISON WATCHED YVANA drop Collin off at the rounded sandy drive in front of her uncle’s beach house, and she sucked in a breath. She was used to seeing him in his dark tailor-made suits, and the casual polo and cargo shorts he wore caught her off-guard. The bay air ruffled his dark hair. He seemed less severe, less...imposing. She approved. So, this is what Collin Baptista looks like when he’s not putting people away. Approachable, affable....handsome.
Madison felt unnerved. His strong shoulders and muscular chest were as impressive in a polo as they were in an expensive wool suit. She had a flash then of his bare skin, of the feel of his strong pecs beneath her fingers. He was a surprisingly fit attorney, one who somehow found time to hit the gym. Collin was one of those people, she thought, who woke at five a.m. just to life weights. An overachiever.
Still, she felt an odd mix of delight and dread as she watched him walk up the stairs to the front patio door. Yvana steered the golf cart back out to the road, throwing her hand up in a wave as she left.
There was no more time to stall. Madison heard the doorbell and headed for the entryway. What was she going to say to him?
She padded down the staircase inside the house, her bare feet slapping the smooth dark wood as she made her way to the patio, anxiously fiddling with her hair. Why do I even give a damn? she asked herself as she went to the glass door. Collin was already knocking, peering in.
She’d forgotten how tall and broad he was. So broad. The normal-sized backpack slung over one shoulder looked...undersized.
She swung open the door.
“Is it mine?” he blurted immediately.
So he did know. Still, the it rubbed her the wrong way. The baby wasn’t an it. The baby was...a boy or a girl, but first and foremost, a baby, a human being, not an it.
“How did you find out?” she asked as he moved past her into the cool air-conditioning. She hadn’t exactly invited him in, but he didn’t seem to care about that little detail. She closed the door behind him, shutting out the swarm of gnats on the patio.
“Heard a rumor. Is it true? You’re pregnant?”
She felt the intensity of his gaze. She wanted to lie but knew it was futile. He’d sniff out a falsehood in a heartbeat.
“Who told you?”
“Matt. From your firm. He said people are talking about you taking a sudden leave, and the rumors are either that you’re pregnant or you have cancer. Which one is it?”
Madison bit her lower lip. She hadn’t told anyone but Uncle Rashad about the pregnancy, and she was sure he’d never tell anyone at work. Yvana was an exception, but then she’d been a close family friend for decades, and the spilling of that secret really was about her protection. Uncle Rashad wouldn’t gossip about something like that at the office.
“Is it true?” Collin asked again. He wasn’t going to let this go.
“No one was supposed to know,” she murmured.
“So, it is true.”
Here’s where he argues about the benefits of getting rid of the baby, she thought. Here’s where he subtly, but firmly, tells me the best thing is to terminate the pregnancy. She remembered Collin’s ruthless precision in the courtroom, his cold heart when it came to pleas and to empathy. He allowed for zero errors—whether it was a teenage kid making a stupid mistake or a mother who’d left her child in the care of someone who wasn’t fit to look after anyone else.
“So? It’s mine, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she sighed. She braced herself for the lecture.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, his expression eager and even...excited? That took her by surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want the baby. He’d been all hands and mouth that one night they’d spent together, but then the next day it was as if she hadn’t existed. Now, he liked the idea of her carrying his baby? Maybe she’d been wrong about him. Maybe he wasn’t just the hard-nosed prosecutor, the man without a heart.
He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. He put down his backpack on the terra-cotta stone tiles of the foyer and then turned to her.
“If it’s mine, then we need to do this.” He flipped open the black box lid, revealing a brilliant solitaire diamond that caught the sunlight and sparkled like fire. Suddenly, all coherent thought fled her mind.
Collin Baptista was asking her to marry him?
CHAPTER FOUR (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d)
MADISON FELT STUNNED as she stared at the ring. Could this really be happening? He was asking her to be his wife? She glanced up at Collin. His green eyes were serious; this was no joke.
“So?” he asked, handing her the box. A respectable diamond, she noticed. It must’ve cost a pretty penny.
He ducked down quickly, opened his backpack and pulled out a bouquet of wilted roses. “Oh, and here.” He thrust them at her. She took the flowers but ignored the box.
That was his proposal? There was nothing romantic in it. Hell, she wasn’t even sure he liked her, much less loved her, and he was proposing marriage? Why? Because one of his little guys had slipped past her goaltender? The ring was impressive; he, however, was not.
“That’s your proposal.” Madison crossed her arms, feeling a flare of anger in her chest. This was the best he could do? He couldn’t even muster up an actual question? She’d always imagined when the time came for a man to propose marriage, it would go very differently than this.
“Well, yes. I’m making an honest woman of you.”
What? She glanced at his face, so smug, so confident, so sure she’d only have one answer for him. He hadn’t even gotten down on one knee. Not that she was the kind of girl who demanded old-fashioned subservience, but...why wasn’t he trying harder?
He attempted to hand her the velvet box, and her heart thudded in her chest.
“What year is it? 1812?” Madison jabbed a fist into her hip.
“Hey, hey.” Once more, Collin held out the box, and the diamond glinted brightly in the sunlight, but Madison wasn’t about to take it.
“I’m doing the right thing,” he said.
There it was again, Madison thought, that tone of superiority. The right thing. He was so certain about what that was, and yet, he hadn’t even asked her opinion. He’d made a unilateral decision.
“What makes you think I’m keeping the baby?” she asked, and she could tell by the expression on his face that that threw him for a loop. Even though she was, she hated that he was deciding for her.
“Because...you’re always the softhearted lawyer. You’re always telling the jury about how they should have pity on this client or that client, and I assumed...” He frowned at her and stopped talking, then ran a hand through his hair. “You have to keep this baby.”
“I think it’s my decision.”
“Oh, no, no.” Collin was pacing now, a bundle of furious energy. “That’s our baby. It’s our decision.”
This just made Madison more furious. He wasn’t the one who had to carry the baby, give birth to the baby, nurse the baby. How was it half his decision?
“I came all this way, and I bought this ring, and you’re telling me you’re really considering an abortion?”
The word abortion felt like a slap. She didn’t like to think about it. She knew plenty of women who had no issue with it, but Collin was right about one thing; she had a tender heart. That also meant she’d never in a million years judge another woman who decided to get one. She understood now with perfect clarity just how your life could be sidelined in a heartbeat with too many drinks and one bad choice. She’d already made the decision to keep the baby, but now that Collin was here, that decision had just become more complicated. Collin wanted to be part of the relationship between her and the child. That was a possibility she’d never considered. Now, having the baby meant...having Collin in her life to some degree. She hadn’t planned on that.
Suddenly, the room felt airless, stuffy. Madison wanted to get away from Collin. She moved to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. Her throat was dry and she was starting to feel light-headed. All she wanted to do was lie down.
But Collin wasn’t finished as he trailed her into the kitchen. “And you weren’t even going to tell me about it? I have a right to know. That’s our baby.”
Madison snorted. “Our. There’s no our anything,” she grumbled. After all, it was Collin who’d made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing to do with her.
Collin followed her to the refrigerator. His shoulders seemed to take up all the space in the kitchen, and she felt trapped. “I’m doing the right thing, and you should, too,” he said.
Oh, here it was again. Collin’s obsession with right and wrong. It made him a fantastic prosecutor but also generally insufferable. Heaven forbid anybody should actually be a human being around him. Madison set down her glass of water near the sink and scowled at him.
“There he is... Mr. High-and-Mighty. I wondered when he was going to show up.” Madison crossed her arms. “Do you ever get tired of your high horse? Isn’t the air thin up there?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Collin crossed his arms and glared back at her.
“You’re full of yourself, that’s what.” Madison poked Collin in the chest, her finger bouncing off his muscles. “You never returned any of my calls. Or texts. You wanted nothing to do with me, but now you hear I’m pregnant, and suddenly you show up thinking I’m going to what...be grateful?”
The stunned look on Collin’s face told her that was exactly what he’d thought.
“But...why wouldn’t you be...happy or grateful or whatever?” Collin asked. “I’m offering to marry you. I never even date defense attorneys. But I’m willing to put all that aside and make up for my mistake, because now there’s a baby on the way and... I’m offering you my support and my name and—”
“Don’t talk about me and my profession like we’re somehow less than human. Defense attorneys are people, too,” Madison snapped. “And, for your information, I don’t need your support.” Madison was growing fed up with this kind of thinking. It wasn’t the 1800s. Or, hell, even the 1900s. “I don’t need your name, either. You may not know this, counselor, but I probably make more money than you. Those defense attorneys you hate so much often make more than you prosecutors.”
“Not always.”
“Pretty much always.” Madison glared at him again.
Collin looked uncertain. The prosecutor who almost never lost a closing argument seemed adrift. “You have to keep the baby. You have to marry me,” Collin said, still looking dumbfounded. Apparently, he hadn’t considered the possibility that she’d say no, which irked her even more.
“I don’t have to do anything,” Madison said. But as the words left her mouth, she knew that was partly a lie. She was compelled to look at Collin’s full lips, his perfect squared-off chin. Even in this moment of annoyance, she found herself attracted to the man, a feeling completely and utterly out of her control.
“I don’t get it. You don’t want to marry me?” The disappointment in his eyes caught her by surprise. Her rejection hurt him, something she hadn’t thought possible. Madison’s head pounded; she was tired and strangely sad. Why did she feel like she was going to cry? She hated the look of hope on his face—and the feeling of hopelessness in her own chest.
“I think you should go.” Madison pointed to the patio door. “I have a headache. And I need to rest.” Fatigue hit her, and suddenly all the energy left her body. And then there was the feeling of sadness that threatened to crush her.
She ushered Collin to the door.
“But...”
“You need to go. I am not making any decisions until the end of the week, okay? Right now, I need to lie down before I fall down.” She opened the front door and he went, almost in a daze.
“You don’t want to marry me,” he reiterated.
“No, Collin, I don’t,” she said. Then, she shut the glass door in his face.
* * *
“THAT DID NOT go well,” Collin said aloud, but the only one who heard him was the little green gecko darting by his feet on the porch. He stared at the closed door. Madison had closed the blinds, so he couldn’t even look in. Still, Collin stood on the porch, swatting away mosquitoes.
What the hell do I do now? A nagging mosquito bit his neck and Collin slapped it hard. Damn bloodsuckers. Sometimes he hated Florida. He’d been raised in the Bronx and there, mosquitoes never got this big. But he’d gone to law school in Florida, since they’d offered him the biggest scholarship, and after graduation he’d gotten an internship and then a job in the state attorney’s office. And he’d stayed, but he sometimes wished he was back in New York.
“If only I could put the entire mosquito population in jail,” he mused as he adjusted his backpack on his shoulders and headed back to the main office on foot, the ring feeling heavy and suddenly way too expensive in his pocket. He was still reeling from her rejection. He hadn’t been one hundred percent sure she’d say yes, but he realized he’d never really entertained the notion that she’d say no.
Where had he gone wrong? He knew Madison wasn’t like other women he’d dated. She was fiercely independent, and she hadn’t bothered chasing after him when he hadn’t returned her texts, but still... Why hadn’t she accepted his help? Then again, maybe she didn’t need his help.
He shook his head as he wondered whether or not he ought to see if he could get a refund on the ring. He also had no idea what to do if Madison terminated her pregnancy.
Part of him felt strongly that she wouldn’t do that, though. She was one of the biggest-hearted defense attorneys he knew. She couldn’t spin those sob stories to the jury if she didn’t believe them, and Collin’s gut told her she’d be even more protective of her own baby.
Then it’s my job to convince her we ought to get married. He didn’t see it as a sexist thing at all. Madison might be convinced she didn’t need him, but he was convinced the baby did.
After two wrong turns, he ended up back at the office. The door opened with a telltale ding of the bell, and Yvana glanced at him with pity.
“She said no, huh?”
“Why aren’t you surprised?” Collin asked, leaning against the counter, wondering if Yvana knew more than she let on. He swiped at his sweaty brow and tried to enjoy the air-conditioning in the office.
“Oh, I’ve known Maddie a long time,” Yvana said. “Babysat her when she was little. She’s as stubborn a girl as I ever met. You couldn’t get her to do anything unless she thought it was her idea.”
Collin chuckled ruefully. “I learned that the hard way.”
Yvana shook her head slowly, her golden hoop earrings catching the sunlight. “What’re you gonna do? Pack it in? Ferry comes about half an hour from now.”
“No,” Collin said, suddenly feeling a new wave of determination. He hadn’t given up on law school when things had gotten difficult. He wasn’t about to throw in the towel now. That was something his no-good father would have done. Quit when the going got tough. Not him.
Madison wasn’t the only one who had a stubborn streak. “Do you have a house to rent? Preferably close to Madison?”
“Well, well, well.” Yvana raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You’re determined. I’m starting to like you,” Yvana said as she clacked away on her keyboard. “You’re in luck. The Petersons’ house next door is available for rent. You want the whole week?”
“How about just one night?”
Yvana laughed. “Oh, honey, you’re gonna need longer than that,” she said. “I’ll put you down for the week. Maybe two. You can always change the reservation if you convince her earlier—but, honey, let me warn you. She ain’t an easy one.”
CHAPTER FIVE (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d)
COLLIN WOKE THE next morning inside the little two-bedroom cottage on stilts, wondering for a second where he was. Then he saw the black velvet box on his nightstand, and all the events from the day before came rushing back. He sat up and yawned, still remembering the steely look on Madison’s face when she’d refused to marry him. Clearly, Madison had been angry with him, and he guessed, if he really thought about it, he understood. He hadn’t exactly been nice after they’d...done the deed. Worrying about office protocol and breaking office rules was probably something he should’ve done before they got naked. But Madison was just irresistible. He supposed he should’ve told her that after they’d slept together instead of ignoring her texts.
He’d messed up. He got that, but a baby changed things, didn’t it?
And why wasn’t he getting any points for standing up and taking responsibility? That was what he didn’t get. Then again, since when did anyone ever give him points for that? His childhood on the poor side of the Bronx should’ve taught him that much. Guys who cut corners—like his father, like the hoods on the street—they got the instant payoff. Good guys had to work harder for theirs. He knew that, had always known it.
The sunlight beamed in through Collin’s open bedroom window; the blinds were permanently stuck in the “up” position. He was normally an early riser, but dawn was earlier than even he normally got up. He glanced around the small room. Everything about this house was smaller and less impressive than Madison’s. Or, rather, her uncle’s. His, too, was on stilts, and stood three stories high, though only two were enclosed, the first being open to the elements, with an outside shower and a small shed for garden tools. The two properties faced one another, and all that separated their properties was a small green space of a shared yard, and a few trees. Their porches and balconies faced one another, though as he glanced at her home now, he couldn’t see her. She must be inside. The yard was surprisingly manicured, most of the island was brush and trees where it wasn’t beach—like a series of crisscrossing sandy trails through bits of tropical jungle. This house badly needed a new coat of paint—and a kitchen and bathroom remodel. However, it was close to Madison’s, which was all that mattered.
He wondered what he ought to do. Call Madison? Go over and offer to get her breakfast? Neither of those things seemed likely to impress a woman who was totally pissed at him. He looked again at Madison’s deck and checked for signs of life. He didn’t see any. Collin sighed. He had no idea what his next move should be. If he was prosecuting a defendant, he would have been able to call his next witness or file a motion before the judge, but now, he felt at a total loss. Madison had told him flat-out no, and it wasn’t as if he could appeal her decision to a higher authority. He rubbed his face and dragged himself to the bathroom where a brown gecko darted across the tile floor. Collin swished mouthwash around to rid himself of stale morning breath and glanced at his bare chest in the mirror. He worked out. He took care of himself. He was a good-looking guy—if he did say so himself—with a promising career. None of that seemed to matter to Madison, though.
He sighed again. Maybe he was a little egocentric, but he was proud of his accomplishments and of his career. He’d put in a lot of effort and defied all the odds to get where he was. He thought about the two jobs his mother had done, her late nights and early mornings, all by herself, working to support him and his sister. She’d passed away of a heart attack the year after he graduated from law school, but at least she’d gotten to see him land a job at the state attorney’s office. She was so proud of him, and he had every right to be proud of himself. Was that ego or just fact?
Collin headed to the kitchen, where he found a refrigerator empty of everything except a bottle of ketchup and a cabinet that had coffee filters but zero coffee. He hadn’t expected to be staying alone or in this house. He’d imagined being wrapped up in Madison’s arms...or at the very least, sharing a meal with her. He hadn’t brought groceries, and now he realized he’d probably have to go to the small convenience store near the pool for supplies, or simply eat out every meal. He groaned.
Peering up at the line of windows, he looked out on the treetops below and Madison’s backyard. When he opened the sliding glass door, he could see all of Madison’s yard from the porch on, since the first floor of the house was raised a story and a half above the ground. He went out onto the wooden deck barefoot and shirtless, wearing only his sleep shorts. Just then, he saw Madison emerge from a path near the shrubs carrying a watering can. She walked leisurely to a couple of potted plants nearby, where she watered some blooming bright pink flowers.
Collin watched for a second, risking the chance that she might look up and see him. Madison’s dark hair hung loose past her shoulders, her eyes focused on the task. Usually, she wore her hair up in a tight bun in the courtroom. He remembered that on the night they’d shared he’d run his hands through it, and it had been thicker than he’d imagined. He could tell that she wore no makeup and just a pair of gym shorts and a tank top, but the sun hit her glowing skin in a manner that made her seem younger than thirty. He wanted to touch that smooth skin again, almost forgetting what it had felt like. Damn those drinks that fogged my memory, he thought. She moved gently, easily. Was she a little thicker around the middle? He wasn’t sure, although, she did seem softer somehow, her curves curvier. He tried to see where a baby bump might be forming, but saw nothing except a perfect figure. The woman was breathtaking. That was why she was so impossible to reject that night, he thought. He remembered the way she’d reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him, the energy flowing between them, the attraction neither one could resist.
This woman is carrying my baby. The very idea still shook him.
Then a yellow blur dashed across his peripheral vision. He turned, glanced around the low-lying green leafy trees. What was that? He saw another blur of light colored fur. Yellow? Gray? He couldn’t be sure. Too big to be a cat. A dog? It was close to Madison’s backyard—and she didn’t have a fence. What if it was a rabid dog? A dangerous one? Did they have coyotes on this island? Suddenly, he felt fearful. For Madison. For his baby.
“Madison!” Collin shouted, but she kept her back to him. That was when he saw the white earbuds, their wires trailing from her ears. Dammit! He watched, frozen, as the blur he’d seen in the trees broke free and headed at top speed toward Madison’s turned back. Collin was already on the move, skidding down the wooden steps that led to their shared drive, nearly falling over himself as his bare feet hit the rocky path. He didn’t feel the pricks of the tiny shells and pebbles on the soles of his feet as he sprinted over shrubs and through thorny bushes to Madison’s yard. He heard a loud screech and went faster, breaking through the cover of thick branches in time to see a shaggy yellow dog licking Madison’s face. She was flat on her back, and he had a single paw on her chest. He looked tame, but the adrenaline rushing through Collin’s veins told him she’d been knocked to the ground by this...animal, no matter how adorable he seemed.
“Get off her!” Collin roared and rushed forward to push the dog away.
“Collin!” Madison chastised. “It’s fine... He’s just a puppy.”
“That thing? That’s no puppy!”
“He is,” Madison insisted. “Look at the size of his paws. He’s all clumsy... He’s just a big puppy.”
Collin glanced down at the dog’s enormous paws, oversized for its body. Though, now that he was closer, he saw that the dog was smaller than he’d first thought. He was mostly fur. The dog probably weighed only thirty pounds.
“What if he’s rabid?”
“I’m sure he’s not,” Madison said. He saw that she took notice of his shirtless chest, her eyes momentarily on his torso. Was it his imagination or did her eyes linger there a bit longer than they ought to? Well, let her look. He hadn’t had time to throw on a shirt. He’d thought she was being mauled by a rabid dog.
“He knocked you down.” Collin still felt his heart thudding as he reached out and helped her to her feet. “Are you okay? Is...” He couldn’t even get out the word baby. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” Madison said as she shook a leaf out of her hair, then batted his hands away. “He didn’t knock me down. He surprised me, and I slipped.”
“Same difference.” He shifted, the sandy soil filled with shells poking at his bare feet. “You all right?” he asked once more.
“Fine,” she snapped. “I told you. And what are you even doing here? I thought you went home.”
“You thought wrong. I rented the house next door.”
“Why?”
He heard a note of annoyance in her voice. He was worried about her—was that a crime? For a second, she reminded him of his mother: stoic, stubborn, refusing to admit she ever needed help. The woman would work until she collapsed, never complaining.
“Because we need to talk.”
Before Madison could answer, the shaggy yellow dog barked. He looked like some dog experiment gone wrong. His poofy, curly yellow fur hung in his eyes, and his shaggy coat made him look, at a guess, part poodle and part sheepdog. Or maybe part golden retriever. The little guy had big floppy ears and a long fluffy tail that curled up like the feather on a musketeer’s hat. He wore no collar, and bits of leaves and brush were poking out of his thick fur. Collin had never been much of an animal person—living with a single mom in the Bronx meant he’d never had a dog growing up. His mother barely had enough money to buy them food, much less food for a pet. Collin had spent most of his childhood convincing himself he’d never wanted one, anyway. He studied the dog with suspicion.
Madison, however, leaned down and ran her hands through the dog’s furry head, scratching him behind the ears.
“Who’s a good boy?” she said. “You look just like a teddy bear.”
“If a wolf can look like a teddy bear,” Collin grumbled.
She continued to rub the dog and his back foot instantly began bobbing, as if he was trying to scratch an invisible itch.
“Aw, you’re adorable, yes, you are.” Madison’s voice went high and baby-like, and Collin felt a stab of jealousy. Why did she like this strange little stray mutt more than him?
“He probably has fleas,” he said, noticing how much the dog seemed to appreciate being pet nearly anywhere, as Madison continued massaging his back and he kept moving gleefully to divert her attention to a new spot.
Madison ignored Collin’s remark. “You don’t have a collar,” she said. “Who’s your owner, boy?” She waited patiently as if the dog might answer her.
“You know he can’t speak, right?” Collin pointed out, but Madison just frowned.
“You’re thirsty, aren’t you? And hungry. When was the last time you had a drink?” She shook her head. Why was that her problem? Collin wondered. “Wait with him. Don’t let him leave,” Madison ordered, as she ran up the wooden staircase to her front door.
“But...” Collin didn’t like dogs. Or cats. Or anything with fur and teeth. He stared down at the dog, who had a big pink tongue hanging out its mouth as it panted, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. The dog pushed his nose up against his crotch to sniff.
“Hey, back off,” he said, squirming in the opposite direction. Then, as he was trying to maneuver farther back, the dog gave his hand a big sticky lick. Ew. Probably all kinds of germs in that drool, he thought with disgust, as he wiped his hand on his shorts. The dog leaned forward again and licked his toes. Collin nearly leaped a mile straight in the air. “That’s it... You...” He jumped away from the dog and nearly fell. He had half a mind to scare the dog off. A stray wasn’t their problem, no matter how much Madison wanted to make it hers.
She emerged with a bowl of water, a small belt and a white nylon rope. She put the bowl down in front of the mangy mutt, and he began lapping up the water as if he hadn’t had any in days.
“Thought you looked thirsty, boy,” she said as she bent down and wrapped her belt around the dog’s neck, using it as a makeshift collar. She attached the nylon rope and tied it to one of the posts of her front steps. “Now you won’t run off before we can find your owner.”
“We?” Collin asked, anxious. “Let’s call animal control. Then he won’t be anybody’s problem anymore. They can take him to the pound.”
“The pound!” Madison cried, shocked. “No way. Besides, this island is too small for that. We’ve got one fire station and not even a police station.”
Collin frowned. “What if there’s trouble? Does everybody just hope it goes away?”
“Usually there isn’t, but in an emergency, we call the shore, and the police can helicopter someone over.”
“But they can’t get here that fast,” Collin noted, not liking the idea of his future wife and future baby being on an island where the police were a helicopter flight away.
“It’s a peaceful place,” she said. “Or was. Till you got here.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Collin asked, defensive. Near his feet, the yellow dog lifted his now-wet snout from the bowl of water and whined.
“Never mind. Anyway, there’s no pound, so we’re going to find his owner.”
“What if he doesn’t have one?”
The dog cocked his head to one side. “We’re on an island, so I don’t think he swam here.” She glared at him, and he felt the sudden urge to march back to his rental house, grab his things and head straight for the first ferry off this little rock.
“What if they don’t want this ugly dog back?”
“He’s not ugly! He’s adorable.”
Collin sighed. Here went the softhearted defense attorney, wanting to give everyone a second chance.
“I think he’s a poodle mix. Maybe a labradoodle or a golden doodle.”
“He’s a no-doodle, if you ask me.” Collin frowned at the dog.
“You’re so mean!” Madison exclaimed. “Can’t you have a heart, for once?”
“I have a heart,” he argued, a little taken aback.
“Really?” She looked skeptical and that stung.
“I’m not that bad. Only to the bad guys.”
“Look, why don’t you go back to...” Madison lost her train of thought. “...wherever you came from and I’ll take care of the dog. I can go knock on doors.”
“You? Take this disaster around and knock on strangers’ doors?” Collin was horrified. “In your condition?” He suddenly imagined a host of problems—heat stroke or an accident—or even worse, serial killers lurking behind every palm tree.
“I’m pregnant, not paralyzed,” Madison said, narrowing her eyes. “And you don’t care about this dog, so I’ll do it.”
Collin let out a sigh. He’d have to go with her. He didn’t want her wandering around the island with a dog nearly as big as she was. Puppy or not. “I’m coming with you.”
“I didn’t ask for your help,” she said, lifting her chin.
“You’re getting it anyway. Can you let me put on some clothes first?”
Madison glanced uneasily at his bare chest. “I guess so.”
The yellow dog barked his approval.
CHAPTER SIX (#ud00a440a-1043-50bb-b65d-bf9de3e14c2d)
BY THE TIME they’d walked nearly a mile and asked about the dog at a dozen houses, Madison was starting to tire...and her empty stomach grumbled, reflecting her increasingly darker mood. She looked at the yellow fluffy ball of fur trotting ahead of them. So far, nobody they’d talked to owned a dog or knew of anybody who owned a dog, aside from the Ruben family and they had a German shepherd. The hot North Captiva sun hung high above them, nearly overhead, signaling that it was drawing close to lunchtime. Madison had long since burned off her breakfast of an English muffin and a cup of decaffeinated tea. Collin insisted on holding the dog’s “leash” as he fretted over her as if she were made of delicate china. She wasn’t sure whether she liked his nonstop worry or hated it. She might be pregnant, but she wasn’t some little weakling.
Although, her hungry stomach told her that if she didn’t find some food—and something to drink—soon, she might start to feel like one.
“Are we really going to knock on every door?” Collin asked her. “Why don’t we just let the dog go? He seemed fine on his own, and maybe he knows where home is.”
“No! How can you say that? He’s dying of thirst.”
“Not dying. Just thirsty,” Collin muttered. The dog bounced happily ahead of them, tail wagging as Collin held on to the rope attached to Madison’s skinny belt, which she’d looped twice around the dog’s neck.
“He’s been on his own for a while... Maybe his owners even left the island.”
“And left him behind?” Collin asked.
“Sometimes people do bad things.” Madison shrugged.
“Says the defense attorney,” Collin quipped. “Can I get that on record for the next time you’re defending one of your guilty clients?”
Madison whirled, feeling anger squeeze her throat. Plus, her empty stomach made her short-tempered. “Not all of them are guilty.”
“Uh-huh.” Collin rolled his eyes. “Are you going to tell me another sob story about a thug who just fell in with the wrong crowd?”
Madison crossed her arms as they walked side by side down the narrow sandy path.
“You don’t know everything, Mr. Prosecutor. Some clients are innocent. Like James Miller,” she said.
“James Miller? The gangbanger? Are you serious?” He stopped, and the fluffy dog stopped with him, pink tongue out as he sat on the trail, watching them argue.
“He wasn’t a gangbanger,” Madison insisted. “He was a nineteen-year-old who stole a gift for his mother. That’s all.”
“I know that’s what you told the jury, but I can’t believe you really bought that. He was best friends with one of the most notorious gangbangers in his neighborhood, and he’d been seen riding around near where a shooting took place.”
“He never shot anybody.” Madison was absolutely sure about this. “And he knew bad people, but he wasn’t in a gang. Besides, you know he didn’t shoot anybody, or you’d have been prosecuting him for it.”
“He punched the security guard, or don’t you remember that footage? It was a violent act, and he was likely going to get more violent,” Collin said.
“He made a mistake,” Madison countered. They were now standing toe to toe, but Collin was so much taller that Madison had to arch her neck to meet his eyes.
“Okay, fine...and we’re supposed to set him free so his next ‘mistake’ is killing someone? And what about Jimmy Reese?”
Madison couldn’t defend Jimmy. Well, technically, she had defended him, but he’d been a white supremacist who’d sprayed a supermarket with bullets, aiming for a black man, but killing a white girl and wounding half a dozen others.
“I tried to get him to take a plea,” Madison said. I didn’t want to defend him. “Besides, he’s in jail for...what? Twenty years?” Not that even twenty years would help the girl’s parents sleep at night. “And anyway, James isn’t Reese.”
“No? Reese also had burglary on his record. Just because James hadn’t shot up a grocery store yet and killed someone’s little girl doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have.”
“James doesn’t want to kill people just because of what they look like.” How could he equate a neo Nazi with a kid who made a mistake?
“No, but gangbangers kill innocent people all the time,” Collin countered. “Do I need to remind you how many kids were victims of gangbanger bullets last year alone?”
Madison felt her blood begin to boil. She hated this “if one’s guilty, they’re all guilty” attitude. It was why people assumed that everyone who lived in a certain zip code or looked a certain way must be a criminal.
“Maybe you’re so concerned about being right that you can’t see an obviously innocent defendant when you see one.” Madison hated the way he always put labels on people. Bad. Good. Life wasn’t that simple.
“And maybe you’re such a bleeding heart you can’t see that the guilty clients are guilty...and that this dog is just fine without us.” Collin nodded at the dog, who still sat panting in the shade.
Was this how Collin would be as a father? An authoritarian know-it-all? How would he be understanding with a child, who would inevitably make mistakes? “This is why we shouldn’t be parents,” she said, waving a hand in the air. “We’re too different.”
“What does that have to do with being parents?” Collin took a step closer, his green eyes flashing in the sunlight. He was tall, imposing, intimidating, ever the prosecutor.
“You. Me. We see the world so differently. We’d make a terrible couple, and we’d make terrible parents,” she said, taking the leash from his hands and walking ahead of him, the dog prancing out in front of her, happy to be moving again.
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Cara Lockwood
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: When opposing counsels attractAssistant DA Collin Baptista has a rule: never sleep with the enemy. He broke it once—with defense attorney Madison Reddy. Now Madison’s pregnant and Collin heads to her North Captiva retreat with a ring, prepared to do the right thing. What he’s not prepared for is her flat-out rejection.Madison may not think he’s ready to be a father, but Collin’s sure he can convince her otherwise. And when the couple find a lost goldendoodle puppy, they get plenty of opportunity to practice being a family. Maybe a secluded Florida island and a stray puppy can teach these two rivals to be a couple—and parents!