work out, so that’s that, but he always liked talking to you.”
Yes, I am a sought-after conversationalist, all right. Even William still dropped in at her office for the occasional chat.
“You were the only person he spent any time with at all at the wedding shower,” Minna continued. “Really, I can’t imagine what would have made him run off the way he did. Are you sure he didn’t give you a clue?”
It didn’t feel right to repeat a conversation she probably shouldn’t have overheard in the first place, so Gemma muttered, “He didn’t tell me anything.” That was the truth. “He said he’d talk to Elyse and Scott.”
“Oh, they’re both so busy, they’re useless when it comes to—” Her mother cut herself off.
“Feeding you juicy gossip about Ethan?” Gemma teased.
“Oh, fine. We’ll definitely see Ethan next week. I’ll ask him for some gossip myself.”
“Next week?” Gemma heard the panic in her own voice. She hadn’t seen or heard a word about Ethan since the bridal shower, and life was much more peaceful that way.
“Gemma,” her mother chided. “Please say you didn’t forget the rehearsal dinner. I told you to write the date down immediately. You’re not going to tell me you have one of those endless work functions or dinner with the dean.”
“No, I remember the rehearsal dinner. I just forgot Ethan would be there.”
“Well, of course he’s going to be there. He’s the best man. I’m giving you the job of calling him to confirm.”
“What? Why me? Why not—” Gemma stopped herself. The more she protested, the more she would draw her mother’s attention. And she couldn’t claim not to have Ethan’s number; it had been her job to text the wedding party to give them the time of the fittings for their gowns and tuxes. “All right.”
She’d merely text him again. Wouldn’t have to trade actual words until the rehearsal dinner.
* * *
Past 9:00 p.m., the General Store in Thunder Ridge was closed, so if you had a midnight hankering for a pint of mint chocolate chip or a desperate need to read the latest celebrity gossip mag, you had to drive to Hank’s Thunderbird Market on Highway 12. When Gemma’s sister Lucy phoned their parents’ house at 11:00 p.m., asking if someone could please, please, please pick up ear drops for her baby, Owen, and some teething gel—“The pink gel, not the white. The pink!”—because Owen had been crying nonstop for two hours, Gemma volunteered to make the drive.
Deciding a snack would make the late-night trip more entertaining, Gemma grabbed a package of Nutter Butters, which were the best cookies on earth, then added a bag of rippled potato chips since she was going to need to crunch on something on the way home. With her basket of support foods, she headed to the pharmaceutical aisle intending to grab the teething gel quickly and go to her sister’s. As she rounded the corner of the aisle, however, she nearly collided with another late-night shopper.
“Oh! My gosh. I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Yeah, no, me either. I’m... I had to pick up a few things.” Ethan nodded to the loaded cart in front of him and then—was it possible?—he blushed. As in, a deep red infused his gorgeous face. His gorgeous, exhausted-looking face.
Why was he blushing? Other than seeming tired, he looked great. She, on the other hand, had been wearing a T-shirt that read Eat, Sleep, Repeat and her hot-pink emoji pajama bottoms when Lucy had called, and she hadn’t seen any reason to change for the trip to the Thunderbird.
Her surprise at seeing Ethan here turned into absolute shock when she saw the contents of his shopping cart.
“Teething biscuits?” She arched a brow.
“Yeah.” He glanced around, then lifted a shoulder. “I like ’em.”
“Favorite locker-room snack?”
Ethan did not look happy. He looked, in fact, miserable. With one hand, he finger-combed the thick golden hair that appeared to have been mussed several times already. With the other hand, he retained a white-knuckle grip on the cart.
Gemma peered at the rest of the contents, which looked as if they’d been scooped up by a dump truck and piled in.
Coffee, milk, two four-packs of energy drinks, cotton balls, bandages, a thermometer (several, in fact, each a different brand), tissues, baby wipes—
Baby wipes? She looked closer. Yep, baby wipes. And formula! He had at least four different kinds of formula in that cart. And were those boxes of...
Oh, my goodness. Ethan was buying diapers. Disposable diapers, again in a few different brands. Plus, she spied the very item she was looking for—teething gel.
“You got the white kind,” she said, pointing to the small box with the picture of a tooth. “You should get the pink. My sister says it works the best.”
Frowning, Ethan followed her finger. “Really? Where is the pink one?”
Feeling as if she’d fallen asleep and was having a very weird dream, Gemma led him to the correct spot along the aisle. “This one.” She picked a box from the shelf. “Worked like a charm when my nephew Owen was cutting his first tooth.”
Looking as confused and frustrated as he was tired, Ethan scowled at the label, then tossed it into the cart along with everything else.
Selecting a box of the ointment for her sister, Gemma ventured, “So, Ethan, you have a toothache? And—” she nodded toward the diaper boxes peeking out at the bottom of the cart “—a problem with incontinence, perhaps?”
“Very funny.” He did the finger-comb again. “Can you keep a secret?” he growled, sotto voce.
“I can,” she replied, wondering at the strangeness of this meeting. “I’m not sure I’m going to want to.”
When he spoke, he looked as if even he didn’t believe the words he was about to say. “I have a baby.”
Gemma stared at him until her vision got blurry. “A baby what?”
“You know.” He made a rocking motion.
“A person? You have a baby...person?”
He nodded, and she could hardly breathe. I’m blacking out, I’m blacking out. Her heart flopped in her chest. “Wh-who-who is the mother?” Then she gasped. “Is it the redhead from the vampire cheerleader show?”
He looked at her oddly. “Who—You mean Celeste? No!” He swore. “Lord, no.” Coming around from behind the cart, he took her upper arm, glancing up and down the aisle as if this were a dark alley. “It’s not my baby,” he whispered.
She whispered back. “You said, ‘I have a baby.’”
“I do. In my house. Look,” he grumbled, “I don’t want to talk here. Are you done shopping?”
“I want to get ear drops for Lucy’s son. He’s
