nodded once and hoped Lachlan didn’t notice his Adam’s apple move slowly up and down. He felt bad lying to Lachlan, although technically he wasn’t. “Can you fill Blair in when you see him? I’ll try to catch Annabel this afternoon.”
“I’m glad you’re getting her involved.”
“Who? Annabel?” Of course he’d include their sister in any decisions.
“No, idiot. Bailey.”
“Ah. Right.”
“She’s been such a big part of the family for so long, even before she and Callum were together, that it seems wrong not to have her around anymore. Callum’s moved on and it was her decision to end things, so I’m just hoping everything won’t have to change too much. Hamish misses her, our families are so linked, and I think hiring Bailey to help is a good plan to fix any rifts caused by her breaking up with Callum. Is she cool with helping now Chelsea is on the scene?”
Quinn had no idea what Bailey thought of Callum’s new fiancée—their night had happened before all that and he’d steered clear of her since—but he guessed Chelsea was the least of her problems now. “Yes, seems to be. Bailey’s a professional.”
Lachlan nodded. “Yes, you’re right. She is.”
For a moment Quinn considered confiding in his brother—he and Lachlan had always been closer than he and Callum, and as Lachlan was a dad, he’d be more likely to understand the mixed feelings consuming Quinn right now. Panic, guilt, anger—he had them all. He wanted to ask how Lachlan had felt when he’d first discovered his ex-wife was pregnant. If he’d ever doubted his abilities as a father. If he instinctively knew what to do when his babies were first placed in his arms. If there was any parenting how-to book he absolutely should buy.
But he swallowed his questions, summoned a carefree grin onto his face and punched Lachlan playfully on the arm. “We’ll chat soon and Bailey will probably be in contact, as well.”
“Okay, I’ll look forward to it.”
As his brother slipped back inside the house, Quinn wondered how Bailey had managed to keep her pregnancy a secret so far, because he’d known less than twenty-four hours and was already desperate to confide in someone.
Arriving early, Quinn paused outside the café in downtown Bend and peered in through the window, checking to see if Bailey had arrived yet. He immediately located her at a table in the corner, leaning over a newspaper as if it had the answers to world peace scrawled across the pages.
And man, she was beautiful. Her dark, shiny hair fell slightly across her eyes, and without the pajamas of last night, she was back to her immaculately dressed self—black leggings, knee-high boots to match a long knit sweater thing, bright chunky jewelry hanging around her neck. She looked together, refreshed and pregnant.
No one else might be able to tell, but to him the differences were obvious. Her skin definitely glowed, and even from this vantage point, he noted her breasts had increased at least a cup size. Quinn swallowed at the recollection of exactly how those breasts had felt in his hands, her nipples growing tight as he’d swiped his tongue over the top of them. He hadn’t had sex like that in a long time.
Quinn caught himself. Was this the way he should be thinking about the mother of his child? Despite the cool temperature of the day, a flush crawled up his neck at the thought. Then again, maybe this was exactly the way he should be thinking—it wouldn’t be a hardship getting serious with Bailey, as his libido was already a hundred percent behind the idea. He might not have planned on committing to anyone, but he’d make damn sure he never did to his child what his dad had done to him. And that meant doing right by the kid’s mother.
The door to the café opened as a group of women emerged, giggling. He straightened as they all paused to give him the once-over. The two blondes, the brunette and the redhead were dressed as if they’d just come from a dance club or yoga class. Normally, presented with four hot women, he’d take a moment to flirt a little and get a phone number or two for his little black book, but today he barely gave them a second glance.
As they giggled off down the sidewalk, Quinn turned back to look at Bailey. She was still engrossed in the newspaper, but pretty soon she’d start wondering where he was. He couldn’t remember feeling nervous about anything in his life, but his stomach was churning and his palms sweating.
Nothing had ever mattered as much as this did. He couldn’t afford to mess it up.
Telling himself to get a grip, Quinn strode the few steps to the door and pulled it open. He made a beeline for Bailey, but she didn’t look up until his shadow fell across the table. He glanced down at the newspaper and saw exactly what had captured her attention.
“Hello, Bailey.”
“Oh. Hi, Quinn.” She looked up at him, slammed the paper shut and then shot him a guilty grin, as if she’d been caught in a criminal act. “Have a seat.”
She failed dismally in sounding professional and he smiled knowingly as he unwrapped his thick scarf from around his neck. He folded and placed it over the back of the vacant chair, then peeled off his leather jacket and did the same with it. He didn’t think much about the act of doing so, but Bailey’s eyes widened as if he were some stripper in a male revue and her cheeks grew pink when he caught her looking. It appeared the attraction was still very much present for both of them and the knowledge pleased him immensely.
If Bailey thought she could fight this kind of chemistry, she had another think coming. If she thought he wasn’t going to be involved in his kid’s life, she needed her pretty little head read.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said. I would have been early except I was outside giving myself a hard-on by looking in at you. How was it possible to be angry with and attracted to someone at the same time?
She shook her head. “You’re not. You’re right on time.” She sounded surprised by this fact and he had an urge to reach out and tuck the hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear. Then to swipe his thumb across her forehead and smooth her creased brow.
Instead, he gestured to the closed newspaper between them. “Was that Aunt Bossy you were reading?” he asked, casually picking it up. He opened it exactly to that page and smiled down at the caricature of an old woman that topped his popular column—the image about as unlike him as you could get.
Bailey’s face turned a pale shade of green. “You know about Aunt Bossy?”
He shrugged one shoulder slowly as he leaned back in his seat. “Of course. Who doesn’t? I read her column every week. She sounds like a very wise woman, offers top-notch advice in my opinion.” He shut his mouth before she got suspicious about his effusive praise.
Now, in addition to her sickly pallor, panic danced in her eyes. “Really?” she whispered.
Yes, Bailey, I read the column and so does almost everyone else in Jewell Rock and all the surrounding regions.
Really, what had she been thinking sending such a letter? Did she think no one would recognize their situation? Their illicit night together might still be secret, but with the other clues she’d sown, it wouldn’t be too hard for anyone who knew them both to put two and two together.
