Her Last First Date. Susan Mallery

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Her Last First Date - Susan Mallery Positively Pregnant

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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

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