Her Last First Date

Her Last First Date
Susan Mallery


What to do when the stick turns blue. 1. Take the test again…and again…and again. 2. Try to convince yourself the five tests you have now taken are defective. 3. Accept that you are pregnant… 4. Start making plans to tell the father that your one night together is about to deliver a little surprise in nine months. 5. Kiss the man to prepare him for the news. 6. Realise that kissing the man makes you forget everything…7. Take a deep breath and tell him. POSITIVELY PREGNANT Sometimes the unexpected is the best news of all…







“You really do want us to just be friends.”

“It’s not what I want,” she admitted, “but I think it’s the most sensible solution.”

She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Did it matter? She’d long learned the only person who was going to take care of her was her.

“It’s your call,” he said. “We can be just friends. But I refuse to forget what happened.”

She was torn in two. Part of her applauded her rational, mature decision. The other part snorted in disgust and warned her she would be very sorry to be sleeping alone tonight.

“I won’t forget, either,” she told him, and meant it.


SUSAN MALLERY

is a USA TODAY bestselling author of over eighty romances. Her combination of humour, emotion and just-plain-sexy has made her a reader favourite. Susan makes her home in Washington State, where the whole rain thing is highly exaggerated and there’s plenty of coffee to help her meet her deadlines. Visit her website at www.SusanMallery.com.



Dear Reader,

There’s something wonderful and magical about falling in love, but family complications can really get in the way. Why is it the people we love most in the world are also the ones who make things the most difficult? Sometimes without even trying.

In Crissy’s case, the family in question is the amazing couple who adopted the baby she gave up. Twelve years after the fact, she really wants contact with her son. Which seems simple enough, but, of course, it isn’t simple at all. Then there’s the falling in love part. Talk about the right guy at the wrong time…and in the wrong place!

I love writing about families and friends. HerLast First Date gave me the chance to explore the best of both worlds. If you read the first two books in the POSITIVELY PREGNANT series, you’ll have a chance to catch up with old friends. If you’re new to the series – welcome. Her Last FirstDate will stand on its own.

Enjoy and happy reading!

Susan Mallery




Her Last First Date


SUSAN MALLERY




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Chapter One

Crissy Phillips believed in chocolate as a cure for heartache, exercise as a cure for everything else and second chances…for everyone but herself. Which was why she’d been standing outside the Kumquat Diner for the past fifteen minutes, instead of going inside for her meeting. Going inside was too much like forgiving herself and Crissy wasn’t ready to do that just yet.

She knew all the arguments. She’d been young. She’d made the best choice she could at the time. If a friend of hers were in the same position, Crissy would cheerfully tell her to get over it and move on. Why was it always so much easier to give advice to other people, than to herself? Why did everyone else’s life look so easily fixable, while elements of her own seemed an unfathomable mess? Why was she talking to herself in the middle of a diner parking lot?

She took a single step toward the front door of the diner, then stopped.

Just do it, she told herself. Do it, do it, do it.

When the chanting didn’t work, she tossed her head and felt the light brush of her newly clipped hair on the back of her neck. She’d spent over two hundred dollars on red and gold highlights and an impossibly up-to-the-minute cut that actually suited her face. Didn’t she want to flaunt her new and improved self?

She hated being indecisive and insecure. She was a successful businesswoman, a take-charge person. She made decisions easily and except for being an absolute failure when it came to her knitting class, she kicked butt wherever she went.

Not literally, of course.

It was one meeting. How scary could that be? She really needed to—

The front door of the diner opened and a tall, good-looking guy stepped out. He had reddish-brown hair, surprisingly close to her own untouched color, and eyes that belonged on a billboard on Sunset Strip, the color of moss after rain, framed by big, thick lashes. Crissy didn’t consider herself a very sentimental person, but she was thinking an ode or two to those eyes might very well be in order.

“Hi,” he said with a smile. “Are you the one I’ve been waiting for?”

It was an opening line that deserved a movie score, she thought as she grinned. “You forgot ‘all my life.’ For that question to really work, you need the tag line.”

His smile widened, then he glanced at his watch. “More like for the past ten minutes. Are you Crissy?”

She hadn’t had to meet the devil head-on. He’d come to find her. Although Josh Daniels wasn’t really the devil. He was a kind man who’d offered to help, at his brother’s suggestion. Actually, the word “facilitate” had been tossed around, but Crissy could never use that word in a sentence without fighting a fit of giggling.

“Hi, Josh,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I’m not sure nice covers it. You’ve been standing out here, trying to decide if you should come in for the past ten minutes. So is it me or the circumstances that have you dancing in the parking lot?”

“I wasn’t dancing,” she said primly, trying to ignore the fact that he’d obviously seen her and guessed she was slightly ambivalent about their meeting. “I was getting in touch with my inner…”

“Self?” he offered.

While weak, it worked. “Right,” she said.

“Are you in touch now?” he asked.

As much as she was going to be. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” He pulled open the door. “I got us a booth. It has a great view of the parking lot. You’ll like it. Come on, this won’t be so bad.”

As she’d requested the meeting, she had little choice except to follow him into the brightly lit interior. He led the way to a booth in the back which, unfortunately, did offer a clear view of the parking lot.

“So you witnessed my mental moment,” she said as she slid onto the bench seat. “How comforting. Having exposed myself at my worst, I have only one direction to go.”

He settled across from her. “If that’s your worst, you’re a lot better off than most people.” He leaned back and studied her. “Let’s admit the situation is unusual and awkward. So we’ll take it slow. Talk about regular stuff for a while. How does that sound?”

“Good,” she admitted. “You’re being really nice about all of this.”

“I’m a really nice guy. Incredibly intelligent and gifted…but let’s not talk about me.”

She grinned. “How refreshing to meet a man who knows his place in the universe.”

The waitress appeared with two menus. Both Crissy and Josh ordered coffee. When they were alone, Crissy said, “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me. Pete and Abbey have always been so open and inviting. I just never felt right about…”

She stopped and pressed her lips together. No. She was going to tell the truth, even though it wasn’t pretty and didn’t reflect well on her.

“Until recently, Brandon has been more theory to me than the actual child I gave up for adoption,” she admitted. “Every time Abbey sent me a note or called, I never knew what to say. It was easier to stay away.”

The waitress returned with two mugs of coffee, then left.

“I’m not here to make trouble,” Crissy added. “I just thought it might be nice if I could meet him or something.”



She wondered if Josh would make a crack about her turning thirty and finally hearing the first not-so-subtle ticks of her biological clock, or if he would be defensive. Instead he simply regarded her thoughtfully with his soulful green eyes, saying nothing.

“What are you thinking?” she asked after a few minutes of silence.

“That you’ve spent a lot of time beating yourself up about giving up a baby for adoption. You were what—seventeen?”

When she got pregnant, but eighteen when he was born. “I’d finished high school,” she said, not sure if she was explaining or trying to manipulate him into yelling at her.

Because he was right. She did beat herself up a lot. She’d taken the easy way out—she’d chosen to have the life she’d planned instead of raising her child herself. No matter how she rearranged the facts, she couldn’t seem to make herself the honorable party.

Josh continued to study her. “Abbey can’t have kids. She told you, right?”

Crissy nodded. “The first time we met. She’d had an accident when she was younger and the result was she couldn’t have children. She and Pete started looking into adoption as soon as they got married. My parents knew their lawyer and on their first anniversary, we met to talk about them taking Brandon.”

She didn’t remember much about that meeting except Pete and Abbey had both been incredibly nice and understanding. She’d instantly felt comfortable with the young couple and knew they were the ones. But she hadn’t been willing to be a part of their family, no matter how many invitations they issued. She couldn’t allow herself—it was her punishment.

“Here’s how I look at it,” Josh said. “Pete and Abbey both want tons of kids. You gave them their first. Why would I think that was anything but totally cool?”

Despite the rush of emotion she had flowing through her body at the moment, she smiled. “Totally cool?”

He grinned. “You can pick another phrase if you want.”

“No, that one works.” She reached for her napkin and began to pleat it. “Okay, here’s another question. Why are they being so nice about this? It’s been nearly thirteen years. After all this time, I finally want to meet Brandon. Aren’t they scared I’m going to do something horrible? Like take him back or try to become the most important person in his life?”

“Are you?”

“No, but they don’t know that.”

He sipped his coffee. “Yeah, they do.”

Because they were nice, Crissy thought, again remembering that first meeting with the couple. While she appreciated nice, in these circumstances, she wasn’t sure she trusted it.

“I want to meet Brandon.” She said the words for the first time in her life. She’d e-mailed them to Abbey, but she’d never actually said them aloud before. “I want to get to know him. But not in an intense way. Something easy and casual.”

“That can be arranged.”

“I’m not prepared to tell him who I am,” Crissy continued. That decision was a whole lot more about Brandon than her. While he knew he was adopted and had a birth mother somewhere in the world, knowing and meeting were two different propositions. He was only a kid. They should get to know each other before getting into issues.

“Abbey told me how you felt and why. We all agree with your logic.” He leaned toward her. “Crissy, it’s okay. Pete and Abbey have been hoping you’d want to get to know Brandon. They feel having his birth mother in his life will give him a connection with his heritage.”

“His heritage? Great. Now I feel like a building.”

Josh chuckled. It was a low, warm sound that eased her tension.

“You don’t look anything like a building. Trust me,” he said.

The funny part was, she wanted to. There was something about Josh Daniels that made her think maybe, just maybe, everything was going to work out.

“I have this nagging sense of punishment,” she said, without meaning to say that aloud. “That I should be, or will be.”

“Because you want to meet the child you gave up for adoption?”

“Sort of.” The feeling was more vague than that. More impending doom than actual event. “Like I don’t deserve a second chance when it comes to this.”

Josh studied her. “I’m not a psychologist,” he began.

Despite everything, Crissy smiled. “Oh, no. That statement is usually followed by the word ‘but’ and some advice or opinion.”



“You think you know everything.”

“I actually know a lot.”

He sipped his coffee. “I’m not a professional, but…”

“See?”

He ignored her. “But it seems to me the only person intent on judging and punishing is you. Maybe it’s time to move on.”

Sensible advice. Advice she should take.

“So who are you?” she asked. “I know you’re Pete’s brother, but what do you do with your day?”

“I’m a doctor. Pediatric oncologist.”

It took a second for her to make the connection. “Kids with cancer?”

He nodded. “I take the tough cases—the ones no one else will deal with. I spend my day searching for miracles.”

She’d thought Pete and Abbey were too good to be true. Apparently it was a family trait.

“That has to be hard,” she said.

He shrugged. “The success rates aren’t as high as any of us would like, but I’m determined to give those kids and their families hope. Sometimes hope is all they have.”

There was compassion in his expression and his voice, which probably explained why it was so easy for him not to worry about what she’d done. In his world, giving away a healthy baby to a loving couple delighted to start their family wasn’t even a blip on the radar screen.

Maybe she should look at her situation from his perspective.

Crissy wasn’t what Josh had expected. Intellectually he’d known she had to be close to thirty, but in his mind, he’d half expected a frightened teenager to show up. But if Brandon had grown from a baby to a happy, athletic twelve-year-old it made sense his birth mother had also changed.

He knew the basics about Crissy—that she came from a good family, had a college education, wasn’t married and that she deposited money into Brandon’s college fund every year on his birthday. Although Pete and Abbey had encouraged her to become a part of the family, she’d never been willing to take that step. Until now.

He’d always thought of her as “the birth mother.” Never as her own person. Until meeting her, he’d never considered that there was someone in the world who had Brandon’s eyes or his smile.

“I see you in him,” he said.

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“A good way.”

She smiled and while he was reminded of his nephew, he also saw Crissy. She was pretty, with short, shiny hair and big eyes. There was something about the way she moved, something sensual and…

He slammed on the mental brakes and backtracked. Sensual? Since when did he notice things like that?

“Abbey says he’s really good at sports,” Crissy said. “His dad played football in high school and ran track. I went out for nearly every sport I could. I went to college on a softball scholarship. I thought I was tough.”

He grinned. “I’m sure you were.”

“Does that intimidate you?”

“I’m shaking so hard, I can’t stand.”



“I don’t believe that, but thanks for pretending.”

“Abbey mentioned you own your own business. I don’t think she told me what it was.”

“Gyms for women. I have six now. They’re all over this area.”

“Impressive.”

It explained the body he’d noticed when she’d walked in. She wasn’t tall, but she looked fit, with curves in all the right places. He eyed her sweater and had a sudden desire to see her in tight workout clothes.

Which meant what? After four years of being alone, he was finally coming back to life?

Pete had spent the past two years bugging him to start dating, to get out and have fun. Josh had hidden behind his impossible work schedule. The thought of getting involved still seemed unfeasible, but maybe something casual wasn’t out of the question.

“Are you ready to take the next step with Brandon?” he asked Crissy.

She shivered. “No, but I’ll never be ready. I think I just have to leap in and hope for the best.”

“Pete and Abbey just got word that their adoption of their new baby, Hope, is final. There’s going to be a big party to celebrate. Lots of friends and family. You could blend in with the crowd.”

Crissy swallowed. “That sounds like a plan. When’s the party?”

“Saturday at three.”

She pressed a hand to her chest. “I may start hyperventilating. Does one bring a present to an adoption party?”

“It’s not required.”



“But if I want to?”

“Abbey’s registered at a baby store.” He gave her the name.

Crissy’s expression turned wistful. “I love baby stuff. Those little dresses and frilly socks. They’re so cute. Probably not to you.”

“Not really my thing.”

“So what is your thing? What do you do for fun?”

Interesting question. Four years ago, he’d had a list. He and Stacey, his late wife, had enjoyed anything outdoors, when her health permitted. She’d loved cooking and gardening. They’d also been studying Italian together, in anticipation of a trip to Venice they never got to make.

“Work keeps me busy,” he said. “What about you?”

“A lot of work, too,” she said. “Running a business is always a challenge, but I like it. Living out here in Riverside means we’re close to a lot of outdoor stuff. I hike a lot in the mountains, and I ski in the winter. Downhill and cross country. I’m a hideous knitter, but I keep trying because my friends love it. But I’m so awful, I had to give the owner of the store a free membership to one of my gyms just to stay in the class.”

He laughed.

“I’m not kidding,” she protested. “I swear, I have the antiknitting gene. Yarn hates me. I’ve seen a petition going around the shelves. If enough yarn signs, I’ll be forced to stop taking classes.”

He liked her. He knew that’s what Abbey would ask first. If he’d liked her.

Crissy drew in a breath. “Okay, so we’re set, right? I’m coming to the party on Saturday. You’re sure it’s okay? No one will mind?”

He reached across the table and put his hand on hers. He’d meant the gesture as one of comfort and was surprised to feel an almost electric jolt of energy jump between them.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, ignoring the sensation and removing his hand more quickly than he’d planned.

“You don’t actually know that. I suppose what with you being a doctor and all, you think you have a edge on stating that opinion, but you can’t be totally sure.”

He grinned. “Deep breaths.”

“Not going to help.”

She collected her purse and stood. He rose as well and tossed five dollars on the table to cover the coffee and tip.

“I’ll be there,” she said. “At three. Maybe ten after. Give other people time to arrive.”

He pulled a business card out of his wallet, then wrote on the back. “My cell number,” he said. “Call me when you’re five minutes away and I’ll meet you out front. You won’t have to go in by yourself.”

Her eyes brightened with gratitude. “That would be great. Plus, if the nerves get to be too much and I start vomiting uncontrollably, you can probably prescribe something, right?”

He laughed. “If necessary.”

“Okay. Thanks, Josh. You’ve been great.”

They stared at each other for a second, then she turned and walked away. He stayed where he was, watching her move through the diner, appreciating the sway of her hips and the swinging movement of her sleek hair.

Being alive suddenly didn’t feel so bad.

“Did you like her?” Abbey asked the second Josh walked into the house. “I’ve always liked her. I think she’s great, but what did you think?”

Josh bent down and kissed his sister-in-law on the cheek. “I liked her.”

“Really?”

“I swear.”

“Good.” Abbey beamed at Pete. “He liked her.”

“I heard.”

Abbey had loosely pinned up her long, blond hair. The free ends bounced as she spun and hurried into the kitchen, waving for him to follow her.

“A couple of my friends are being protective about Crissy wanting to meet Brandon. They’re afraid she’s going to make trouble.” Abbey opened the oven, then pulled out two freshly baked loaves of bread.

His mouth watered. Abbey had a lot of great qualities, and he’d always put her baking near the top of the list.

“She’s looking for a connection,” he said.

“That’s what I said. All these years we’ve invited her to be a part of the family, but she’s always held back.” Abbey set the pans on cooling racks, then turned to him. “She has family, but they don’t live around here. I’ve always wondered if she’s lonely.”

Pete sighed, then put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Stop rescuing the world. Crissy is a very successful businesswoman. She doesn’t need you messing in her life.”

“I’m not messing. I don’t mess. I’m just saying, she needs us.”

Pete looked at Josh, then rolled his eyes. “Let it go,” he said, with exaggerated patience. “Crissy’s fine.”

“Maybe we could fix her up with someone.”

“She can get her own guy. Don’t you have enough to worry about?”

Josh walked over to the cookie jar on the counter and reached inside. Abbey had made chocolate chip cookies the previous day and the four he’d eaten then hadn’t been close to enough. Now as his brother and sister-inlaw continued on with a very familiar argument, he munched on two more.

Pete and Abbey were the kind of couple who had been born for each other. From the first moment they’d met, they’d both known they would be together forever. There hadn’t been any games or questions or even a discussion. They’d started dating their sophomore year of high school and from that first night, had known what their future would be.

“So she’s coming to the party?” Abbey asked anxiously.

“That’s what she said,” Josh told her. “She wants to meet Brandon.”

Abbey smiled. “That’s good. We’re all going to be one big family. She’ll get to know him and relax and then he can know his birth mother.” She turned to Pete. “What about Zeke? He’s single.”



Pete groaned, then glanced at his brother. “Escape while you still can. When she gets like this, she’s impossible to stop.”

Crissy was generally a fan of the whole weekend concept, but this time, Saturday had come along way too quickly. She’d spent the morning trying to figure out the right thing to wear to a “Hey, we’re adopting” party. She wanted to make a good impression, but not stand out. Casual, but not too casual. Pretty, but not sexy.

She tried telling herself that Brandon was a twelve-year-old boy. He wouldn’t even notice her. But still, every time she thought about meeting him there were jumping frogs where her stomach should have been.

She finally settled on a pair of tailored jeans, a lightweight fitted sweater and a leather jacket. Boots gave her some height. She fussed with her hair, did her makeup twice and generally spent more time sweating her appearance than she had on any first date in recent memory.

Not that she went on many first dates anymore. She hated them. Dating was miserable enough without dealing with the whole “get to know” first date.

After changing her earrings again, she walked out to the living room where her cat, King Edward, lay in a patch of sun.

“How do I look?” she asked as she turned in a slow circle. “If you were a twelve-year-old boy, would I embarrass you or not?”

King Edward raised his head, blinked twice, then yawned.



“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she muttered, grabbed her keys and headed out.

In less time than it should have taken, she pulled up in front of a sprawling ranch-style house in a comfy suburban section of Riverside. It was the kind of street where kids rode bikes and neighbors took in packages for each other.

Crissy had to park a nearly half a block away, due to the number of cars. Josh hadn’t been kidding when he’d said it was a big party. All the easier for her to get lost in the crowd, she thought as she climbed out.

She’d taken him up on his offer and phoned when she’d been on her way. As she approached, she saw him step out onto the small porch and head toward her.

He was taller than she remembered and oddly enough, better looking. She liked the way he smiled at her and tried to focus on him rather than her reason for being there.

“Nervous?” he asked as she approached.

“Paralyzed. I may start drooling.”

“That will make an impression.”

They stared at each other. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and smiled.

“It’s okay. Take a breath. You’ll do fine.”

“Something you don’t actually know,” she muttered. “I have a fabulous imagination and I can come up with about three hundred disaster scenarios in less than a minute.”

“Impressive.”

He looked far too amused for her taste. “You could be more sympathetic here. It’s my life on the line.”



“It’s not your life. It’s nothing more than—”

But before he could attempt to convince her of the impossible, the front door banged open and a twelve-year-old boy burst onto the porch.

“Uncle Josh, come on! We’re going to play football and I want you on my team.”

Crissy’s breath caught in her throat. The world seemed to jog slightly to the left. She stared into a face she’d only ever seen in pictures. But this flesh and blood version couldn’t begin to compare to those two-dimensional photos.

She’d seen him in person once before. Nearly thirteen years ago, on a Thursday morning when the nurse had offered her the tiny, wrapped baby to hold.

Crissy remembered she’d refused. She’d pointed to a tearful but elated Abbey.

“That’s his mom,” she’d said, and meant it.

But did she still?


Chapter Two

Crissy tried not to stare at Brandon. This was their first meeting and she didn’t want to come off as scary or creepy. But it was hard to act normal when her heart pounded so hard in her chest she was sure even the neighbors could hear it. Fortunately Brandon was far more interested in his game than an adult visitor he didn’t know.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Josh said. “Go ahead and start without me.”

“Not if I want my team to win,” Brandon said.

“Winning isn’t everything.”

“You always say that, but when we play you get mad if we lose.”

Josh chuckled. “It’s a character flaw. I want better for you.”

Brandon rolled his eyes, but he was grinning. “Uncle Josh, you know you want to play. I’ll let you be quarterback.”

“Bribery, huh?”

Crissy stood silent through their conversation. She tried to focus on Josh, but her gaze kept slipping to the tall, skinny boy pleading for victory. Looking at him was surreal—she could see parts of herself and her family in him. A familiar tilt of the head, a similar smile. She’d never thought about finding bits of herself in Brandon.

She was both delighted by the fact and a little disconcerted. The need to run was just as strong as her desire to know more about him. Talk about a series of complications.

Josh stepped close and put his arm around her. As the steady weight settled on her shoulders, she realized she’d been shaking.

“This is Crissy,” he said. “She’s a friend of mine. Crissy, this is Brandon Daniels.”

“Hi,” she said, doing her best to smile normally. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” Brandon said automatically as his gaze shot back to his uncle. “You brought a girl?”

“It happens.”

“It hasn’t ever.” Brandon was obviously intrigued by the idea. “So she’s like your girlfriend?”

Josh didn’t bring women around? Crissy knew he was close to his family, so did the lack of women mean he didn’t date? He was single—she was sure Abbey had told her that. So why the lack of female companionship? On the surface he was practically perfect—good looking, funny, charming and hey, a doctor. What was there not to like?

“She’s female and a friend,” Josh said easily. “Deal with it.”

Brandon eyed Crissy, then grinned. “Okay.” He moved close and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Crissy shook hands with her son. A thousand emotions flooded her as their skin touched. This boy had been conceived inside of her, had grown in her body. She’d given birth to him and then walked away. They were strangers and yet as intimately connected as two people could be.

Too much, too soon, she thought as her head began to spin.

She turned to Josh. “You should go play. I’ll be fine.”

“All right!” Brandon rushed to the front door. “You heard her. Come on!”

“You sure?” Josh asked as he stepped back. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“She’s fine,” Brandon said. “She can find her way to the kitchen where my mom is.” He backed into the house yelling, “It’s the first door on the left.” There was the sound of running feet followed by a faint, “I got Uncle Josh on my team.”

Josh ushered Crissy into the house. They stepped into a messy but comfortable-looking living room.

“If you’re sure,” he began.

“Go.” She pushed him toward the hallway. “Like Brandon said, I can find my way to the kitchen.”

“Okay. But I’ll be back soon.”

He headed down the hallway. Before following and finding the kitchen, Crissy looked at the pictures on the living room walls. There were dozens, all family photos. Baby pictures of Brandon gave way to snapshots of him at four or five with another baby. The infant grew to a pretty little girl. Then a third child joined the mix.

There were formal portraits and candid shots. Some with Abbey and Pete, some without. But wherever Crissy looked, she saw a connection. Did she have a right to step in the middle of this? Despite Abbey’s constant urgings to get to know Brandon, Crissy felt like an outsider who had the ability to destroy this happy family.

“Something I won’t do,” she whispered to herself, making a vow rather than a statement. She was here to get to know her son, but not at the cost of hurting something wonderful. If anything bad started to happen, she would disappear and never be heard from again.

She walked down the hall and found her way into a large, bright kitchen. There were half a dozen women standing around, talking and laughing.

They looked like the clients who came to her gyms. Suburban moms. Normal women with busy lives. Once again Crissy had the sense of them being a part of something and not being sure if she would ever belong. Then Abbey looked up from the cutting board where she’d been slicing strawberries and saw her.

“You made it,” she said, her voice bright with pleasure. “Everyone, this is Crissy. She’s a friend of Josh’s. Crissy, these are my friends. I’m going to go around the room and tell you everyone’s name, but we don’t expect you to remember them the first time out.”



“Oh, yes, we do,” a pretty redhead said with a laugh. “We’ll quiz you later. Failing will mean dire consequences.”

“Don’t frighten her the first day,” a blonde said. “Save that for her second visit. It builds anticipation.”

“Ignore them,” Abbey told her. “They’re actually very nice.”

Crissy sensed that. She tried to put names with faces, but got hopelessly lost. Part of the problem were the comments about her and Josh.

“I always knew that man was too fabulous to stay single long,” one of the women murmured, almost regretfully. “Someone had to catch him eventually.”

A by-product of the cover story, Crissy thought. By being Josh’s friend, people assumed they were dating. Not that she would mind going out with him sometime. Just not now—when there was so much other stuff going on. Still, she accepted the teasing and continued meeting Abbey’s friends.

When everyone had been introduced, Crissy was offered a choice of beverages, including white wine. She chose iced tea.

“Is the game starting?” Abbey asked, looking out the large bay window with a built-in cushioned bench. “Oh, my. Maybe some supervision is in order.”

Several of the women nodded. “Remember last time when Aaron sprained his ankle?” one of them asked. “I swear, the man still thinks he’s seventeen.”

Abbey’s friends drifted toward the back door, then out into the yard. When it was just the two of them, Abbey smiled at her. “I sort of asked everyone to leave us alone for a little while. So you could get comfortable. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s fine. This is a lot to take in.” Crissy drew in a breath and tried to focus. “You’re being really nice about all this. You could have refused to let me see Brandon.”

“Why?” Abbey asked, looking genuinely confused. “The more family, the better. It’s important for Brandon to know about his biological family. I’m thrilled you want to be here.”

If their situations were reversed, Crissy wasn’t so sure she would be as welcoming. “You’re an amazing woman.”

“Oh, please. I just want what’s best for Brandon. I think your plan to take it slow is a good one for everyone.” She continued slicing strawberries and then dumped them in a bowl. “I got in touch with Marty.”

It took Crissy a second to connect the name with the football player she’d dated in high school. The one who had been her first time and Brandon’s biological father.

“What did he say?” she asked, wondering if he was interested in Brandon as well. That would be fifteen kinds of weird.

“He’s a lawyer in Boston. He was very polite, but told me that part of his life was finished. He’d signed away all rights to his child so if I thought I could get money out of him, I was sorely mistaken.”

Crissy winced. “That can’t have been fun.”

Abbey shrugged. “Some people are like that—thinking everything is about money. He’s moved on. I’m okay with that.”

“He didn’t have such a big stick up his butt when we were dating in high school,” Crissy said. “At least I don’t remember seeing it.”

Abbey grinned. “I’m sure you would have noticed.”

Just then a pretty girl Crissy recognized from the pictures in the living room raced into the kitchen. “Hi, Mom. Can I have juice?”

“Sure.” Abbey crossed to the refrigerator. “Emma, this is Crissy. She’s a friend of Uncle Josh’s.”

The girl was about eight or nine, tall and skinny, with cartoon princesses on her athletic shoes.

“Hi,” Emma said shyly. “Uncle Josh is really nice.”

“Yes, he is,” Crissy said, appreciating how easy he’d made things for her.

Abbey handed her a juice drink and the girl skipped toward the back door.

“You have your hands full,” Crissy said. “I can’t imagine raising three kids.”

“I started with one, so that helped.” She began pulling bowls of salads out of the refrigerator. “We’ve been lucky. All the kids have been great. Hope, the little one, just turned two, but she’s still a sweetie. Right now she’s down for a nap, but when she gets up you’ll see what I mean. She’s a real people person. Brandon is more athletic. A typical boy. Emma is the quiet one. Her idea of a good time is an afternoon spent reading. I love how different they all are, how their personalities grow with them.”

The counter filled up quickly, so Crissy stepped in and took two large bowls from Abbey. She glanced at the contents.

“Did you make all this?”



Abbey shrugged. “Yes. I’m a bit obsessive about what my family eats. I go for organic and healthy whenever I can, which means I do a lot of cooking. We have a big garden on the side of the house. Brandon and Emma both help me with it. I make our bread and things like cookies and cakes. I’m a real homebody.” She glanced at Crissy. “That probably sounds really boring to a successful businesswoman like you.”

“Not at all,” Crissy told her, trying to remember if she’d ever turned on the oven in her kitchen. “I’m not the least bit domestic. I wouldn’t know where to begin. I’ve never baked anything. I can’t even knit and I’ve been taking classes for months.”

“But you’re good at other things,” Abbey said. “The whole work world. I think about getting a job sometimes. Money is tight, with us just living on Pete’s paycheck. It gets worse when we adopt.”

Crissy frowned. “I don’t understand. If you’ve had Hope for the past two years, why would she cost more when you adopt her?”

“The state pays us to be foster parents. When we adopt, that money goes away.” Abbey wrinkled her nose. “Some of my friends tell me to just keep them as foster kids. They’ll still be ours. But Pete and I want to be sure the babies know they belong to us forever and that no one can ever take them away. When you’re all alone, like Hope and Emma were, that’s important.”

“I had no idea,” Crissy murmured. The only things she knew about the foster care and adoption system were what she’d seen on television or the movies. Not many people would be willing to give up steady income the way Abbey and Pete had, just to make a child feel secure. Especially when money was tight.

They lived in a different world, she thought, wondering if she would be willing to make the same kind of sacrifices. She’d always thought of herself as a basically good person, but when faced with Abbey’s generous heart, she wasn’t as sure about her character.

She glanced out the window and saw the football game in midplay. Brandon ran downfield and Josh tossed him the ball. Brandon leaped up into the air and gracefully caught the spinning ball, landed and dashed for the touchdown. As he crossed the goal line—marked by two lounge chairs—he grinned and did a little dance.

Crissy felt herself smile as she watched the boy. He was so happy and together. She liked his easy confidence and the way he threw himself into the game. She’d been that way about sports, too. In her world, there hadn’t been room for second place. There was either a win or disappointment.

“He’s very special,” Abbey said, coming up to stand next to her. “In so many ways. You gave us a great gift when you allowed us to raise him.”

Crissy felt overwhelmed by emotion. “I’m not here to make trouble. I swear.”

“I know,” Abbey told her. “You can stop worrying about that. I trust you to do the right thing for Brandon. You love him.”

Love her son? Crissy had barely been willing to admit he existed. That wasn’t love. Abbey gave her way too much credit. She didn’t deserve this family’s kindness.



“We’ll take it slow,” Abbey continued. “If things go well, you can tell him who you are.”

“I won’t do that without talking to you first.”

“I appreciate that. Don’t worry. Things have a way of working themselves out.”

“You’re too trusting,” Crissy said. “The world isn’t always a nice place.”

“I’m wrong from time to time, but not often. Pete teases me that God looks out for the very young and the very naive. But he loves me anyway. Family is everything for us. We knew from the start we were going to have to adopt. Brandon was our first blessing.”

“You have three blessings now. How many more are there going to be?”

Abbey’s expression turned impish. “I’m hoping for seven, but don’t tell Pete. He always clutches his chest and moans when I hint at four more.”

Seven children? Seven? On purpose?

“I’m with Pete,” Crissy murmured, unable to imagine what life would be like. Chaos, for sure.

“We’ll see,” Abbey said. “If we’re done adding to our family, I’m happy. But if there are a few more kids who need a good home, then we’ll make room. We’ve been lucky. It’s been harder for Josh.”

There was an opening Crissy couldn’t ignore. “In what way?”

“You know he’s a widower, right?”

Crissy shook her head, shocked at the news. “No. I didn’t know. She must have died very young.”

“Too young. Stacey was barely twenty-seven. Cancer. She’d had it as a child and it went into remission.



But she always knew there was a good chance it would come back and it did. She died very quickly, four years ago. Josh was devastated. For a while we wondered if he would make it. But he’s finally getting better. Smiling more. Enjoying life. Dating.”

Crissy tried to take it all in. Josh and Stacey couldn’t have had very long together. She’d never lost anyone close to her and couldn’t imagine how much that would hurt. Talking to him she wouldn’t have guessed he’d been through so much. He was the kind of man who—

She caught Abbey looking at her, a knowing gleam in her eyes. Crissy replayed the conversation. One word stood out. Dating.

“Did you mean me?” she asked and took a step back. “Josh and I aren’t dating. He’s helping me with the whole Brandon thing.”

“He’s smiling,” Abbey told her. “So are you seeing anyone?”

Crissy laughed. “You’re trying to set me up?”

“Why not?”

“Complications. Josh is the last guy I’d want to get involved with.” Their family connection—Brandon—made the situation impossible.

“He’s a great guy,” Abbey said.

“I already guessed that, but no thanks.”

“Don’t you think he’s sexy?”

Involuntarily Crissy felt her attention being pulled to Josh as he ran across the backyard. His body moved with an easy grace and somewhere inside of her body parts sighed in appreciation. “He’s okay.”

“Nothing more?”



“No,” she lied.

“Then I’ll have to find you someone else.”

Great. A matchmaker. “And if I told you I wasn’t interested in romance right now?”

Abbey grinned. “I wouldn’t believe you.”

After dinner, Crissy collected plates and headed for the kitchen. Abbey called out to stop her.

“Crissy, while you’re in the kitchen, would you grab the ice cream for the cupcakes? There are cookie sheets in the freezer with individual scoops in little cups.”

Of course there were, Crissy thought, guessing Abbey took care of every detail.

“No problem,” she said.

“Great. Brandon, honey, would you help Crissy?”

“Sure, Mom.”

Crissy stumbled slightly, caught herself and continued into the house. Apparently Abbey’s need to meddle didn’t stop at romance. It seeped into every corner of life.

Crissy did her best not to panic. In truth, she’d totally avoided having any contact with the boy. She’d watched him play football before dinner and had listened to him chat with his parents’ friends during the meal. She’d been observing rather than participating, wanting to get to know him without him being aware of her.

Now she walked into the kitchen, put the dishes on the table and wondered what she should say. The simple act of starting a conversation seemed impossible. Her brain went blank and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

Okay, she thought frantically. If talking wasn’t going to happen then she should act. She walked to the refrigerator and opened the freezer door. Then frowned.

“There’s no ice cream.”

“It’s in here,” Brandon said and led the way into a large laundry room that held an upright freezer.

He opened the door and she saw cookie sheets covered with cupcake liners, each filled with a perfect scoop of ice cream.

“Oh, my,” Crissy breathed. “Your mom is so together it’s almost scary.”

Brandon chuckled. “She’s into feeding people. She’s always bringing cakes and cookies and stuff to school.”

“That must make you popular.”

“It helps.” He pulled out one of the trays and handed it to her, then took the second one himself.

“I don’t cook much,” she admitted. “My idea of a home-cooked meal is to stop for a salad on the way home.”

Brandon wrinkled his nose. “Girl food,” he muttered.

What? Girl food? “Hey, you don’t get to think less of me because I’m a girl. I saw you running during the game and I could take you.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right.”

She might not know how to talk to a twelve-year-old boy, but she knew exactly how fast she was when she wanted to be.

“Want to put your attitude to the test?”

He glanced at her boots. “You gonna wear those?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t think so. I’m fast.”

“I’m faster.”



Brandon stopped on the porch and looked at her. “If you think you’re so tough, you can play in the next game. It starts right after dessert.”

“You’re on.”

His eyes widened. “For real?”

“Yes, and when you see how good I am, you’ll bow down and apologize.”

He grinned. “That’s not gonna happen.”

Crissy shook her head. “You are so wrong.”

The sun was close to setting, but there were plenty of lights on in Pete’s backyard. Josh collected a beer from a cooler and walked over to one of the lounge chairs by the football game that was just starting. Despite Brandon’s pleading, he’d refused another round. His nephew’s enthusiastic tackle earlier than afternoon had left him bruised and limping.

As he settled down, he saw an unexpected addition to the lineup. His gaze narrowed in on a perfect backside sticking out during the huddle. Crissy? Playing football? He looked down at the ground. In those boots?

It didn’t seem possible, but when they clapped and broke, she headed for the front line. Pete was across from her. She grinned.

“You’re not going to stop me,” she told him.

“That’s what you think.”

Crissy laughed, then turned and watched as the ball was snapped. Seconds later, she was flying down the field.

Pete and Abbey had bought the rambling old house because it had plenty of bedrooms for all the kids they wanted and because the yard was massive. They’d been determined to have the place all the kids in the neighborhood wanted to play. So there was plenty of room for Crissy to sprint downfield.

Despite what had to be three-inch heels on her boots, she moved with a speed that stunned the hell out of him. Brandon, normally the fastest guy on the field, couldn’t keep up.

She suddenly stopped, turned and caught the ball, then raced between the goal line markers. She spiked the ball, then crossed to Brandon.

“You were saying?” she asked.

“You’re totally bad,” the boy breathed. “That was awesome. Even if you’re a girl.”

“So maybe now you’ll stop underestimating what girls can do.”

“I guess.”

He looked stunned. Josh had to admit he was right there with him. He’d known that Crissy owned a couple of gyms and it made sense that she worked out, but he’d never guessed she could play like this. What would she be able to do in athletic shoes?

He told himself he could never go jogging with her. She would leave him gasping in the dust.

The two teams lined up again. This time Pete’s team had the ball. They used a running play. Crissy was right there with Pete as he raced up field with the ball.

She was soon level with him, then she calmly reached over and plucked the ball from his grasp. He was so shocked by her action that he actually let go. Seconds later, she was running back the way she’d come. It was over in an instant. She crossed the goal line again.



Brandon yelled and ran over. They high-fived each other.

“Girls rule,” she said.

“I guess,” Brandon muttered.

Abbey settled in the seat next to Josh’s. “I feel vindicated,” she said. “We need more Crissys in the world.”

“I’m thinking one is all we can handle.”

“You know she’d kick your butt out there.”

“I do, but you don’t have to be so happy about it.”

“Female solidarity.” She leaned back in the chair. “It’s going well.”

He nodded. “Maybe it’s going to work out. You all deserve that.”

“Does the ‘you all’ include Crissy?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You need to trust her. Pete and I do.”

She and Pete had always been dreamers, believing the best in everyone. Josh had offered to act as go-between in this situation mostly to get to know Crissy so he could step in and prevent any trouble. Someone had to watch out for his brother and sister-in-law. But so far, he liked what he saw. Crissy hadn’t tried to push her way into anything. She’d held back and observed. Maybe things would work out.

“She’s not married,” Abbey said.

He groaned. “Get off of me.”

“Why? She’s lovely. You can’t tell me you can look at her and not notice that? She’s so physical and smart. It’s an irresistible combination.”

He grunted because what was there to say? Yes, he’d noticed Crissy. She was all his sister-in-law said, plus sexy enough to make even his dormant body notice. But noticing was a long way from acting.

“You can’t live like a monk forever.”

“I won’t,” he said, even though he had no plans to change his current status.

“She’s right there. Ripe for the taking.”

He turned to Abbey and raised his eyebrows. “Are you serious? Ripe for the taking? Who talks like that?”

“I do. You need a woman.”

This was a conversation he did not want to be having. “So you’re suggesting I use Brandon’s birth mother for sex?”

“You have to start somewhere and she’s family.”

“All the more reason to avoid her. Sleeping with Crissy isn’t a complication any of us need.”

“Fine. Sleep with someone else, I don’t care. But you have to do something. Have you even been with anyone since Stacey died?”

There was no point in answering the question—they both knew the truth.

Josh didn’t know how to explain that he wasn’t interested in being with anyone. He hadn’t been avoiding intimacy—he hadn’t been tempted enough to bother. He had a feeling that part of him had died with his wife.

“I’m not asking you to risk your heart,” Abbey said. “Just give the equipment a test drive. You might like it. You used to like it.”

“I will not discuss my sex life with you.”

“You don’t have a sex life, or any life. That’s my point.” She turned to face him. “Josh, please. It’s been long enough. You can’t stay emotionally buried forever.”



But that’s exactly what he wanted. A life without emotion, without feeling. Because falling in love and then losing Stacey had nearly killed him. He wasn’t willing to risk that again. Not for anyone.


Chapter Three

Crissy made it a point to leave with the first rush of guests. She didn’t want to linger and create a potentially awkward situation. So far the visit had been easy and fun, which was a definite plus. Why mess with that?

She collected her jacket and her purse, then found Abbey in the kitchen. “Do you go into the other rooms of the house?” Crissy asked, her voice teasing. “Or is it just this one?”

“Only the kitchen,” Abbey told her with a smile. “I sleep in the broom closet.”

Pete strolled into the room. “Are you leaving? Thanks for coming. Things went well.”

“I agree. You’ve both been great.”

“We’re happy to have you hang around,” Abbey said. “What do you want the next step to be?”



Crissy didn’t have a clue. “Can I get back to you on that?” she asked.

“Sure. Call me and we’ll talk.”

Crissy nodded and headed for the front door. She paused when someone touched her arm.

“Leaving?” Josh asked.

“Yes. But I wanted to thank you for all your help.”

“Come on. I’ll walk you out.”

They moved into the night and headed for her car.

“Nice wheels,” he said, nodding at her BMW 330i.

“An indulgence,” she admitted. “I paid off two of my business bank loans and celebrated with some serious shopping.”

“A car, not shoes?”

“I’m not your typical female.”

“So I noticed. You play football.”

She laughed. “I can hold my own. I’m fast. Tackling would be more of a problem. I lack the body mass to do any damage.”

His gaze never left her face, but she had the oddest sense that he was checking her out. Which was crazy. Josh was acting as a mediator, nothing more. Besides, she wasn’t looking to get involved with Brandon’s uncle.

“Today went well,” he said.

They stood in the dark, Crissy leaning against her car, Josh standing in front of her, his hands in his jeans pockets.

“It did.” She’d been holding emotions at bay for hours and refused to give in to them now. “I was terrified, but it was okay. Brandon’s amazing. Pete and Abbey have done a great job with him. With all the kids. They’re an inspiration.”



“Maybe they started with a good gene pool.”

She shook her head. “I’m not taking any credit for that boy’s personality. I don’t deserve it.”

“Still beating yourself up?”

“Regularly. I do it for exercise.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Easy to say,” she told him. “Harder to do. I don’t know what to think when I look at him. Is there connection? Should there be? Am I messing with his world? I’m so far out of my comfort zone, I don’t know where to begin.”

“You talked to him,” Josh said. “How did it go?”

“Good. We talked sports mostly. I like him. I never thought about liking or not liking, but I do.”

“Did you want to tell him who you were?”

If the car hadn’t been right behind her, she would have taken a step back. “No. I don’t know that I ever will. It’s too soon. The situation is…complicated.”

Whatever everyone else might say, she still wasn’t sure she deserved to get to know Brandon. Adding to the mix was her desire to not hurt him or his family. The easiest thing would have been to stay away, but for some reason, she’d been unable to do that. Which left her an emotional mess.

Feelings welled up inside of her. She tried to ignore them, but when she had the unexpected and overwhelming urge to throw herself at Josh and ask him to make it all better, she knew it was time to leave. She didn’t have breakdowns and if she was about to start, she would prefer they be in private.

“Thanks again,” she said. “I appreciate your help.”



“I was happy to be here. You have my number. Call me if you want to talk about any of this.”

Exactly what Abbey had said, but somehow Josh’s invitation was inherently more intriguing.

“Okay, I will,” she said, even though she knew she wouldn’t.

Crissy managed to park in her garage and made it all the way to her kitchen before the first tears fell.

“This is stupid,” she said aloud. “I don’t cry.”

She hadn’t in years. So why start now?

Logically she knew there were any number of reasons, the first of which was meeting Brandon. She glanced at the clock on the cable box, then added three hours. It was too late to phone her parents in Florida. Too bad, because she could have used hearing a friendly voice.

She pulled out the bottle of white wine she’d opened the night before and poured herself a glass, then left it on the counter and walked into the room she used as her home office.

Ignoring her computer and the comfy sofa she’d put on the opposite wall, she crossed to the closet in the corner and pulled open the door. Inside were her off-season clothes, several boxes of financial records and a shelf full of clear plastic containers. She pulled off the one that held all her odds and ends from high school and sat on the floor.

The top came off easily. Crissy began digging through prom pictures, yearbooks and hundreds of photos of her with friends. At the bottom, she found an old envelope containing only a few pictures. They were all of her while she was pregnant and there was a single photo of Brandon, right after he’d been born.

She spread the pictures out on the floor and gave in to the tears. She looked so young, she thought as she touched a photo of herself in a hideous pink maternity blouse. Young and scared, yet determined. Determined not to let the consequences of a single night ruin her life.

She knew that’s what she couldn’t forgive. That she’d never agonized over the decision. She’d simply decided to get rid of the “problem” as quickly and easily as possible. That meant finding a nice couple to adopt her baby.

She hadn’t even tried to make it work. Hadn’t considered upsetting her careful plans. What did that say about her? She’d given away her child and for twelve years, hadn’t looked back.

Shouldn’t she have been devastated? Shouldn’t she have worried about him? Wondered? Missed him? There were—

Someone knocked on her front door. Crissy wiped her face and stood. As she walked into the hallway, she pulled the office door shut behind her. She wasn’t expecting anyone and it seemed too late for kids selling candy for school.

She glanced out the peephole in the door and blinked when she saw Josh on her doorstep.

Great. After her meltdown she would look red and blotchy. There was no way to disguise the fact that she’d been crying.

She opened the door and tried to smile. “This is a surprise,” she said. “Is everything all right?”



“That’s my question,” he told her. “I wanted to check on you. How are you doing?”

“Great.”

“Liar. Can I come in?”

She stepped back to let him enter the house, then closed the door behind him.

“Can I get you something?” she asked. “I have an open bottle of wine.”

“Sounds good.”

She went into the kitchen and poured a second glass for Josh, then collected the one she’d ignored earlier and carried both back to the living room.

Josh stood by the fireplace. He took the glass of wine, then looked around. “Nice place.”

“Thanks. It’s kind of big for one person, but I like the high ceilings and the open floor plan.” She pressed her lips together. Chances are Josh wasn’t here to talk about her house.

She motioned to the sofa. “Have a seat.”

When he was settled, she curled up in the corner and faced him. “I’m fine,” she told him.

“That wouldn’t be my professional opinion. Meeting Brandon is a big deal. It makes sense that you have a reaction to all that’s going on.”

“Is that what it is?” she murmured, then put her wine on the coffee table. “I feel guilty. That’s the bottom line in all this. I feel stupid and unworthy. He’s a great kid. I like him. But until recently, I never thought about him as a real person. I don’t even know what I’m upset about. Am I mourning what I never had? But I never wanted it. I don’t know if I want to be part of his world, or even if I should be. I don’t know how to get over the fact that I was lazy.”

“You were young. There’s a difference.”

“There might be a difference, but it’s not an excuse.”

He sipped his wine. “I remember when Abbey told me they were adopting Brandon. I was still in medical school, studying all the time. I went by their house the first day they brought him home. I’d never been around babies before—not without my mom to handle things. He was so small. Both Pete and I were terrified. It was the only time I questioned being a doctor.”

That made her smile. “Because you couldn’t handle one little baby?”

“Yeah.” Humor brightened his dark green eyes. “But not Abbey. She was a natural. Loving, attentive and fearless. She could handle everything from cutting those tiny nails to treating a spiking fever. Pete learned because he had to, but for Abbey it was only joy. Sometimes I think she’s doing what she was born to do.”

“Abbey’s a great mom,” Crissy said, remembering the homemade everything and the ice cream scoops in the individual paper cups. “I agree it’s her calling.”

“So it was a cruel twist of fate that took away her ability to have children of her own. She’d only ever wanted to be a mom. You enabled that to happen.”

Crissy knew in her head he was telling the truth, but in her heart, she didn’t think she should get off so easily.

“Marty was my first serious boyfriend,” she said. “Back in high school. He played football and was really popular. I had a lot of friends, too, even though I played sports. So uncool for a girl.”



“I’ll bet you did well.”

“I did. I was fast and coordinated and I worked hard. I had a plan. Softball scholarship to pay for my college, then a high powered career in finance.” She shrugged. “At least the scholarship part came true. I had a full ride. The day I got the letter I finally admitted to myself what I’d been avoiding for weeks. That I was pregnant.”

She looked away, remembering that day. How she’d curled up on her bed and wished the baby away—something she’d done ever since she’d begun to suspect that having sex with Marty and not using protection had been a dumb idea.

“Marty was as shocked as I was,” she told Josh. “We were each other’s first time and stupid about birth control. He panicked, saying he didn’t want a baby. Not for a long time. I didn’t, either. I had a future and it didn’t include being a single mom.”

“You were only seventeen. That would have been a hard road.”

“I talked to my parents and told them what had happened. They offered to do whatever they could to support me. I could live at home and go to community college. Mom would baby-sit while I was in class. They made it sound so reasonable.”

“But you didn’t want that.”

She shook her head. “I wanted out. Marty signed the paperwork releasing him from responsibility as soon as he could and I started looking for a couple to adopt the baby.”

“What’s wrong with that?” he asked. “Why is that so horrible?”



“I don’t know. It just is. I feel guilty about not feeling guilty enough.”

“That has to sound crazy, even to you.”

Despite everything, she smiled. “I’ll admit it does. I just feel horrible about not caring enough. Not suffering enough.”

“Because you would be a better person if you’d been emotionally crushed?”

“Maybe.”

“You don’t regret the decision, just your lack of remorse?”

Crissy hesitated. Did she regret giving up Brandon?

She searched her heart. “Pretty much,” she admitted. “I’m not like Abbey.”

“No one’s asking you to be.”

“But she’s so great with the kids. She has all those domestic abilities. I don’t. I have no natural female talents.”

From where he was sitting, Josh thought she had a few. More than a few. But she wouldn’t want to hear about him finding her sexy.

Her vulnerability drew him in, mostly because he sensed she was normally confident and in charge of her life. She was a successful businesswoman who had one weakness—her inability to forgive herself.

“We’re not living in the 1800s,” he told her. “Women don’t have a single role. Everyone gets to make choices. You gave your baby to a couple who desperately wanted him. Where’s the bad in that?”

“Oh, sure. Use logic. I’m talking about my irrational side here. I want to wallow in guilt and shame.”



“What is there to be ashamed of? Having Abbey and Pete raise your son?”

Her gaze narrowed. “I’m not ashamed of that and Brandon isn’t my son. He’s theirs. They are possibly the most perfect parents I’ve ever met and as my parents did a hell of a job, I have fairly high standards. Who the hell do you think you are?”

Temper flashed in her eyes. Color stained her cheek and she was breathing hard. Damn, she looked good. He felt a stirring of pure lust. It had been so long that at first he couldn’t figure out what the heat pouring through him meant. When he did, he nearly grinned. It felt good to be alive. How long had it been since he could say that?

“You think this is funny?” she demanded, rising to her feet.

“Not funny. Just interesting. Anger is more productive than self-pity.”

She glared at him. “I can’t believe it. Are you playing me?”

He put down his wine and stood. “A little. I had no idea there was such a drama queen hiding behind your power suit.”

“Drama queen? I don’t think so.” She moved closer and pointed her index finger at him. “You’re just so typically male. Whenever there’s a situation that makes you uncomfortable or that you can’t handle, you go for the easy putdown. The chick insults. Do you feel more like a man now?”

She breathed fury. He could see she wanted to hit him—or at least throw him out.

“Kind of,” he said with a grin.



Then acting rather than thinking, he grabbed her upper arms, pulled her up against him and kissed her.

He felt her shock and half expected her to push him away. For a moment there was nothing but the warmth of her mouth on his and the heat flaring between them. He braced himself for rejection, but it never came. Instead she tilted her head slightly and kissed him back.

Nothing intimate, he thought, enjoying the softness of her lips as they brushed against his. She shrugged her arms free of his hold and put her hands on his shoulders.

He breathed in the scent of her body. The outdoors, the faint fruitiness of the wine and a feminine sweetness that was unique to her.

He rested the tips of his fingers on her waist and slowly moved to her back. She felt different than Stacey. Shorter, curvier. At the thought of his late wife, he prepared to drown in memories and guilt. But there was nothing inside of him but a growing hunger.

He shifted his hands higher, then slipped one up the back of her neck so he could bury his fingers in her short, silky hair. At the same time she erased the final step that separated them.

Her body pressed against his from shoulders to knees. His first impression was of heat and curves. Her breasts burned against his chest. Every cell of his body cried out for him to touch her. To feel the smooth, soft flesh, to taste her nipples and listen to her moan in pleasure. It had been four years since he’d been with a woman, but he remembered everything he wanted to do. It flashed into his mind, an X-rated movie starring the woman in his arms.



Knowing that wasn’t going to happen, he focused on their kiss. He moved to her jaw and kissed his way to her earlobe. Once there, he drew in the bit of flesh and nibbled until she sighed and her grip on him tightened. Her skin was soft and hot and tempting in ways he’d never imagined. The sound of her breathing filled him with need.

He moved down her neck, going slowly, kissing his way to the open vee of her sweater. Only when he’d felt her heart pounding did he return his attention to her mouth.

She opened for him immediately. He slipped inside and when his tongue touched hers, he felt a jolt clear down to his groin. The wanting grew until it was an inescapable pulsing. He was hard and ready. He wanted her. He wanted to touch and taste every inch of her body. He wanted to make her writhe and scream and come, then he wanted to start at the beginning and do it again.

Crissy drew back slightly and stared at him. Passion darkened her eyes. “Wow,” she whispered. “That was some kiss.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“‘Liked’ doesn’t come close.” She moved her hands down his arms, then dropped them to her sides. “I want to blame the wine, but I haven’t had more than a sip.”

“Me, either.”

“So it’s emotional intensity and chemistry?”

He didn’t know what it was. The only thing he was clear on was that his body had come back to life and it felt damn good to be hard.

“It just is,” he told her.

“Very profound for a guy who doesn’t do touchy feely,” she told him.



“I have untapped depths.”

“I can tell.”

He knew he should leave. She’d been through a lot today and probably needed some time to process everything.

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You going to be okay?”

“Sure. I’m a little shell-shocked, but I’ll recover.”

“You’ll get used to being around Brandon,” he said.

“I was actually talking about you.”

That made him smile. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. You had me close to screaming ‘take me now, big guy.” ’

She had his full attention. “How close?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

But he wanted to know. He wanted her to tell him that he wasn’t the only one interested in the erotic next step.

She pressed her hand to his chest. “You are very unexpected, Josh Daniels. You’re a good man and an amazing kisser. Seriously you should have a plaque or something.”

He covered her hand with his, then drew her fingers up so that he could kiss them. He pressed his lips to the center of her palm and watched as her eyes dilated.

“I should go,” he murmured against her flesh.

“Yes, you should.”

She didn’t sound exactly convinced.

“Or I could stay.” He hadn’t planned to say that, but as soon as he did, he knew that’s what he wanted. To be with her. Alive for a single night.



She drew in a breath. “Staying would work, too.”

It was all the invitation he needed. He drew her against him and pressed his lips to hers. She melted against him, rubbing her belly against his hardness. The friction felt good—right. He wanted more. He wanted to bury himself inside of her and explode, but that was for later. Right now he had a plan.

He slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting her. She brushed against him, matching his intensity, circling him, driving him to the edge. He explored her back, then slipped his hands over the curve of her butt. He squeezed and she arched against him.

The movements of the age-old dance returned to him. Slowly he drew up the hem of her sweater, then pulled the garment over her head and tossed it on the coffee table. But instead of going right for her breasts—which was really what he wanted to do—he pressed his mouth against her now bare left wrist.

Using his tongue, his lips and his teeth, he teased, kissed and nibbled his way to the inside of her elbow. There he circled the sensitive spot until she gave a half-giggle, half-moan that made him smile. He repeated the action on her other arm.

When her breathing came in pants he asked, “Which way to the bedroom?”

She took his hand in hers and pulled him down a short hall and into the first door on the right. She touched a switch on the wall. A small lamp on a dressing table came on, illuminating the feminine space.

The room was done in various shades of pink. Light pink on the walls, a deep rose on the bed. It was the most girly space he’d ever seen and a contrast to Crissy’s take-charge personality. He liked seeing this side of her.

“Are you afraid?” she asked as she turned to him. “There are pink ruffles and lots of lace.”

“I can handle it.”

She pulled his shirt out of his jeans and began unbuttoning it. “Yes, but can you handle me?”

“Let’s find out.”

He pushed her hands away, took her in his arms and kissed her. Now when he explored her back, he felt heated bare skin. Even though he skimmed across her bra strap, he ignored it for now. There would be plenty of time for that later.

He urged her backward until she reached the bed. When she was seated, he crouched in front of her and unzipped her boots.

“I can’t believe you played football in these,” he said as he tugged off the high-heeled footwear. “You could have broken a leg. Or worse.”

She smiled. “You’re such a guy. Women can do anything in heels. It’s all a matter of practice and balance.”

He took off her socks next and had to hold in a groan when he saw her painted toenails and a gold toe ring. How many more surprises were there going to be?

The throbbing in his groin increased every time he touched her. As he had her stand so he could unfasten her jeans, his arousal made a strong case for just going for it. He ignored the message and the way she looked in tiny bikini panties, tossed the jeans onto a chair, then drew her onto the bed.



He kicked off his athletic shoes before joining her. Then he stretched out next to her and stared into her eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he told her.

“The things men say to get lucky.” She grinned. “But I choose to believe you.”

“You should.”

She was lovely. He let his gaze drift down her body. Her breasts were full and pale, threatening to spill out of her lacy bra. He could see toned muscle under smooth skin. There was a small gold hoop in her belly button that made his mouth go dry. Her legs were long and he had a sudden visceral image of himself between them.

He returned his attention to her face, then bent down and kissed her. At the same time he reached behind her to unfasten her bra. She put a hand on his chest.

“Hey,” she whispered. “You’re not naked. Naked is required.”

“I have some important things I need to do.”

“While I like the sound of that, fair is fair. You see mine, I see yours.”

He chuckled. “I like how you think.”

He stood up and took care of his clothes in a matter of seconds. When he moved next to her, she stroked his chest.

“Nice,” she whispered.

He kissed her and again moved his hand behind her back to her bra. This time she turned slightly to help him. When the hooks were free, she tossed the bra off to the side.

Her breasts were perfect. Full and pretty, with tight coral-colored nipples. He knelt between her legs and bent over so he could cup her breasts in his hands. He closed his eyes and savored the feel of her silky skin, then he brushed his thumbs against the tight tips.

His body did its damnedest to remind him that paradise was only a few inches away. Pressure in his groin increased, but he ignored it. As much as he wanted his own release, he wanted to please Crissy more.

He opened his eyes and watched as he touched her. He slid his hands down her ribs to her belly, where he circled the tiny gold hoop. She opened her eyes and smiled.

“My present to myself when I turned thirty a couple of months ago. A reminder to stay young.”

“Do you really need it?” he asked, as he drew off her panties.

“Probably not.”

He bent over and took her left nipple in his mouth. She tasted sweet. He sucked, then circled her, flicking her with his tongue. She groaned then put her hands on his back. The pressure of her fingers told him what she liked. He licked her skin, then blew on the damp spot. She shivered.

He moved back and forth, giving each breast thorough attention. When her legs stirred restlessly, he kissed his way down her belly.

He slid his hands up and down her thighs. As he nipped at the edge of her belly button, he circled his thumbs closer and closer to her center. At last he eased one thumb through her curls and felt her swollen wetness.

Instantly his arousal pulsed, but he continued to ignore the need as he lowered himself onto the mattress, parted her flesh and pressed his tongue to her center.

She tasted sweet and salty and when she groaned, he nearly joined in. While he ached to be inside of her, he wanted to feel her body responding to his every touch. He wanted to learn what made her tremble and what made her scream. He wanted to be intimately connected, even just for a few minutes.

He explored her feminine center, then focused his attention on that one, most sensitive spot. He circled it, then brushed it with the flat of his tongue. He moved slowly at first, giving her a chance to anticipate the next move. Her hips pulsed in time with his actions, then moved a little faster as if urging him on.

He complied, then slipped a finger deep inside of her. He pressed up, finding her inner pleasure point, then rubbed it in time with his tongue.

She began to breathe faster and faster. Her hips moved and he felt her muscles tighten. There was a moment of stillness, then she lost herself in her orgasm.

Her body shuddered. He felt the waves of contractions tightening around his finger. He continued to caress her with his tongue, lightening his touch but keeping up the speed. It was only when she relaxed that he slowed and finally stopped.

He kissed the top of her thigh, then her belly. She opened her eyes and sighed.

“Score one for the home team,” she whispered.

“I had fun,” he said, almost surprised by the fact. But he’d enjoyed pleasing her. He’d enjoyed everything about making love with her.



His erection pointed out that he would enjoy life a lot more when it was his turn, but he ignored that.

“Fun does not describe what just happened,” Crissy said with a smile. She reached for him. “Come here and I’ll show you what I mean.”

The second she touched him, he nearly lost it. He was shocked by the sudden pressure between his legs and it took every ounce of self-control not to give it up right there. Telling himself it had been a long time didn’t make the situation any more comfortable.

Her touch was sure and erotic. Too erotic. He shifted closer and she guided him inside.

The soft, wet, welcoming heat of her body hardly made things better. He pushed in, filling her, feeling as if he could get lost in her forever.

He’d had big plans of impressing her with his endurance, but that plan turned to dust the second time he thrust in her. She felt too good. He wanted her too much. He pushed in again and again, feeling the pressure build. Then he gave himself up to it, increasing his speed, focusing only on the way she pulled him in and made him never want to leave. Another thrust, then another and he was lost.


Chapter Four

Josh woke early to light spilling into an unfamiliar bedroom. It took him a second to figure out where he was and remember what had happened the previous night. He lay on his side in Crissy’s bed, his arm around her waist, his face close to her smooth shoulder.

Slowly, so as not to wake her, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.

He’d made love with another woman. After he’d met Stacey, he’d known he would be content to be with her—and no one else—for the rest of his life. Yet last night he’d needed with a desperation that still stunned him. There’d been so much heat and wanting. How was that possible?

He braced himself for the flood of inevitable guilt, the sense that he had betrayed the woman of his dreams. Somewhere in the house a grandfather clock ticked off the seconds, then chimed the half hour.




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/suzen-melleri/her-last-first-date/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.


Her Last First Date Сьюзен Мэллери
Her Last First Date

Сьюзен Мэллери

Тип: электронная книга

Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература

Язык: на английском языке

Издательство: HarperCollins

Дата публикации: 16.04.2024

Отзывы: Пока нет Добавить отзыв

О книге: What to do when the stick turns blue. 1. Take the test again…and again…and again. 2. Try to convince yourself the five tests you have now taken are defective. 3. Accept that you are pregnant… 4. Start making plans to tell the father that your one night together is about to deliver a little surprise in nine months. 5. Kiss the man to prepare him for the news. 6. Realise that kissing the man makes you forget everything…7. Take a deep breath and tell him. POSITIVELY PREGNANT Sometimes the unexpected is the best news of all…

  • Добавить отзыв