Baby Bombshell Surprise
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Carrie Nichols
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18,4K
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39
Chapter 1
“How about that new guy from—”
“No.” Ellie Harding paused mid-slice in the sheet cake she was dividing into equal squares to scowl at her friend’s attempts at matchmaking.
Meg McBride Cooper stood on the opposite side of the rectangular table, a stack of plain white dessert plates cradled against her chest. Ellie and Meg were volunteering at the payment-optional luncheon held weekly in the basement of the whitewashed clapboard church on the town square in Loon Lake, Vermont.
“I don’t need or want help finding a date,” Ellie said, and considering what she’d survived in her twenty-seven years, going solo to a friend’s wedding shouldn’t even be a blip on her radar. Did her friends think she couldn’t find a date on her own? Memories surfaced of how she’d sometimes been treated after her cancer diagnosis. She knew her friends didn’t pity her, but experiencing being pitied behind her back as well as to her face as a child had made her more sensitive as an adult.
Ellie pushed aside memories and went back to slicing the chocolate frosted cake with vigorous strokes. Heck, guys called her. Yep. They called all the time. Slice. They called when they needed a shortstop for a pickup softball game or a bowling partner. Slice. One even called last month, asking if she had a phone number for that new X-ray tech. Slice.
Meg plopped the plates onto the table with a thunk and gnawed on her bottom lip as she gazed at Ellie. Yeah, Meg was feeling guilty and wanted to confess something.
“Spill it,” Ellie ordered.
“Now, don’t get mad, but...” Meg sighed. “I asked Riley if he knew anyone who might be interested in being your date for the wedding.”
“Uh-oh. Is Meg trying to set you up with arrestees...again?” A fellow volunteer, Mary Carter, came to stand shoulder to shoulder with Ellie, another sheet pan clutched in her hands. Mary was the future bride in question and a transplant to their close-knit central Vermont community, but she had jumped into town life and activities with enthusiasm. “Really, Meg, don’t you think Ellie can do better than a felon? I’m sure if I asked, Brody could contact one of his old army buddies. I’ll tell him to only choose ones that have never been arrested.”
Meg rolled her eyes. “I’m sure asking Brody won’t be necessary, Mary.”
“Just in case...” Mary set the cake next to the stack of plates. “Ellie, what are your feelings on speeding tickets, because—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Meg interrupted and made an impatient sound with her tongue.
Ellie stifled a giggle at their antics but couldn’t decide if she was grateful or annoyed. Now that her two besties had found happily-ever-afters, they seemed to think it their sworn duty to get her settled, too. So what if she hadn’t found Mr. Right yet? Between long shifts as a nurse in the ER and studying for a more advanced degree, she led a full, busy life, thank you very much.
Mary winked at Ellie. “At least I’m not trying to set her up with someone who’s been arrested.”
“As I’ve told both of you already, that guy wasn’t under arrest.” Meg planted her hands on her hips. “He just happened to be in the building and Riley recruited him for a police lineup, that’s all there was to it. No crime. No arrest.”
Ellie continued to slice the cake. “If there was no crime, why was there a police lineup?”
“I meant he didn’t commit a crime.”
Mary slanted a look at Ellie. “Please correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t the witness identify him?”
“Mary,” Meg huffed. “You’re not helping.”
“Sorry,” Mary said, but her grin told a different story.
Ellie sucked on her cheeks to stifle a laugh, grateful to be off the hot seat, even temporarily. She appreciated her friends’ concern but she wasn’t a project. At times like this, Meg conveniently forgot she hadn’t dated anyone for five years until Riley Cooper came back to town after serving in the marines in Afghanistan. Ellie decided not to point that out because her friends meant well. And she didn’t want to turn their attention—and matchmaking attempts—back to her.
Meg blew her breath out noisily, disturbing the wisps of curly red hair that had escaped her messy ponytail. “I’ve explained this to you guys like a thousand times already. It was a case of mistaken identity. I swear.”
“Uh-huh, sure.” Mary laughed and elbowed Ellie. “Ooh, maybe Riley can get the sheriff’s department to start an eligible bachelor catch-and-release program.”
“You guys are the worst,” Meg grumbled, and began laying out the plates.
“Yup, the absolute worst, but you love us, anyway.” Ellie grinned as she plated cake slices.
“Yeah, it’s a good thing—Ooh, Ellie, how about that oh-my-God-he’s-so-gorgeous guy coming down the stairs? If I wasn’t hopelessly in love with Brody...” Mary bumped shoulders with Ellie and motioned with head.
Ellie’s gaze followed Mary’s and her heart stuttered. Liam McBride. What was he doing at the luncheon? She’d had a serious crush on Meg’s brother since...well, since forever. At four years older, Liam had seen her as an annoying kid and had treated her accordingly. By the time she’d matured enough for him to notice, she’d been “his kid sister’s friend” for so long she doubted it registered that she was a grown woman.
“What? Who? Where?” Meg whirled around and made a sound with her tongue against her teeth. “That’s Liam.”
“Liam?” Mary’s eyes widened. “You mean that’s—”
“Ellie’s date for the wedding.” Meg swiveled back, clapping her hands together, her mouth in a wide smile. “It’s perfect.”
“What? No.” Ellie took a step back, shaking her head and holding up the knife as if warding off marauding zombies. She could accept matchmaking between friends. Even being relegated to Liam’s friend zone would be acceptable, but begging for a pity date? Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen. No way. “Absolutely not.”
“No... No?” Mary glanced at Liam again and snapped back to Ellie, looking at her as if she were insane for refusing. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t want—”
“Because he’s Meg’s brother.” Ellie sneaked another glance at the sexy six-foot-two hunk of firefighter strutting toward them.
From his chronically disheveled dark brown hair and broad shoulders to his slim hips, long legs and that touch of confident swagger, Liam McBride oozed pheromones. And Ellie longed to answer their alluring call by throwing herself at his feet, but good sense, not to mention strong self-preservation instincts, prevailed. Thank God, because she didn’t relish getting stepped on by those size 13 Oakley assault boots. To him, she was his little sister’s friend. The girl who used to make moon eyes at him, the teen who blushed and stuttered every time he talked to her. When she’d been diagnosed with cancer in her teens, one of her first thoughts had been that she might never get to kiss Liam McBride.
“Be right back,” Meg threw over her shoulder and rushed to meet her brother as he crossed the room.
“Oh, my. I mean, I had no idea,” Mary whispered, leaning closer to Ellie. “Whenever she mentioned her brother, I was picturing a male version of Meg. You know...vertically challenged, wild red hair, freckles.”
Ellie burst out laughing, but drew in a sharp breath when Liam’s head snapped up. His gaze captured hers and his lips quirked into an irresistible half grin. The air she’d sucked in got caught in her chest. Why did he have to be so damn sexy? As if handsomeness had been handed out unchecked on the day he received his looks.
“Liam takes after their dad,” she whispered to Mary. And not just in physical appearance.
Ellie knew Liam and his dad had buried themselves in work when Bridget McBride got sick. Firefighting was an admirable profession, but relationships needed care and feeding, too. All Ellie had to do was look at her parents to understand the cost when one partner checked out emotionally during a life-threatening situation. She might have survived the cancer that had plagued her childhood, but her parents’ close relationship hadn’t. As an adult she knew the guilt she’d carried throughout her teen years was irrational, but that didn’t stop it from gnawing at her whenever she saw her parents together. What happened to them proved no relationship was immune to life’s challenges.
So she’d admire the sexy firefighter, and if given the chance, she’d take that secret Make-A-Wish kiss, but she’d keep her heart and hopes for the future far, far away from Liam McBride.
“Heart? You listening?” she asked sotto voce before sneaking another longing glance at Liam.
Liam’s footsteps had faltered at that distinctive laugh. Ellie Harding. Her laughter, like her honey-brown eyes, sparkled and drew him in whenever she was close. Today, her long, shiny dark hair was pulled back and secured with one of those rubber band thingies his sister and niece favored. He shook his head and tried to force his thoughts into safer territory. As his sister’s friend, Ellie was off-limits, a permanent resident of the no-dating zone. It was a good thing they lived three hours apart so he wasn’t faced with temptation on a regular basis. The last time he’d seen her was at his nephew’s christening, nearly nine months ago.
The fact that she’d had cancer as a child and could have died had nothing to do with his resistance to her charms. Nothing at all. He’d hate to think he was that shallow, despite knowing the destruction illness left in its wake.
No. His reluctance was because messing with a sibling’s friend could have nasty consequences. He and his best friend, Riley Cooper, were just patching up a huge rift in their friendship. Riley had broken the bro code and Liam’s trust by getting Meg pregnant before deploying to Afghanistan and disappearing from her life. But all that was in the past. His sister was crazy in love with Riley, who’d come back, taken responsibility for his daughter and convinced Meg to marry him. Riley was also the reason for the glow of happiness in his sister’s eyes these days.
So he’d buried the hatchet, and not in Riley’s privates as he’d longed to do once upon a time. He was even spending saved vacation time in Loon Lake to help his brother-in-law renovate. Meg and Riley were outgrowing their modest cottage-style home after the birth of their second child, James.
His gaze met Ellie’s and objections scattered like ashes. Damn, but off-limits would be a lot easier if she weren’t so appealing. Why some guy hadn’t scooped her up by now was a mystery. He almost wished one had and removed temptation. Almost. Something he kept buried deep and refused to explore railed against the picture of Ellie married to a random dude, forever out of reach. Except out of reach was where she needed to stay, because he’d filled his quota of losing people. From here on out, his heart belonged to his job. Stay back three hundred feet, Ellie Harding.
“Liam, what are you doing here?” Meg asked.
“I’m here to help Riley with your addition, remember?”
“I mean here...at the luncheon.”
“When you weren’t home, I remembered you volunteered here on Thursdays.” He shrugged. “So, here I am.”
She grinned and looped her arm through his. “You have no idea what perfect timing you have.”
Then she began guiding—yeah, more like frog-marching—him across the church basement toward Ellie of the twinkling eyes and engaging laugh.
Liam’s indrawn breath hissed through his teeth. “Uh-oh.”
“You’re the answer to our problem,” Meg said in a too-bright tone, and squeezed his arm.
“Huh, that’s new.” He gave her a side-eye look. “Usually you’re accusing me of being or causing the problem.”
Meg’s expression was calculating, as if sizing him up for something. Crap. He knew that look and nothing good ever came from it. Now that she was happily married, she seemed to think everyone should be. Living three hours away, he’d managed to avoid her less-than-subtle hints that it was time he settled down. He loved his sister and was happy to help with the interior finishing work on her new home addition, but he wasn’t about to let her manipulate him into any sort of permanent relationship. Even if the intended target had the most beautiful golden eyes he’d ever seen.
He made a show of looking around. “Where’s Riley? Why isn’t your husband here solving your problems? Isn’t that what he’s for?”
“Nah, he can’t help with this one, so enjoy being the solution for once, brother dear.” Meg stopped at the table where Ellie and an attractive dark-haired woman about the same age were dishing out slices of chocolate cake.
“Meg tells me you need me to sample that cake.” He winked at Ellie, who blushed. His breath quickened at her flushed features. Friend zone, he repeated to himself, but his mind kept conjuring up unique and enjoyable ways of keeping that pretty pink color on her face.
Meg tugged on his am, acting like her seven-year-old daughter, Fiona. “First, agree to our proposition, then you can have cake.”
Ellie was shaking her head and mouthing the word no. Obviously whatever Meg had in mind involved her. Despite his wariness, he was intrigued.
Meg was nodding her head as vigorously as Ellie was shaking hers. “Ellie needs a date for Mary’s wedding.”
“I do not. Don’t listen to her. This was all your sister’s harebrained idea.” Ellie dumped a piece of cake onto a plate and it landed frosting side down. She cursed and he cleared his throat to disguise his laugh.
“But Liam is going to be in town, so it’s perfect,” Meg said.
He winced. Tenacious was Meg’s middle name. Another reason to keep Ellie in that friend zone. He’d have to live with the fallout into eternity.
“Hi, I’m Mary. The bride.” The raven-haired woman set aside the slice with the frosting side down and thrust out her hand. “And you’re welcome to come to my wedding with—” she glanced at Ellie “—or without a date.”
He untangled his arm from Meg’s and shook hands. “Thanks, I—”
“Oh, look. They need help at the pay station,” Meg said, and scooted away.
“Nice meeting you, Liam. I’d love to stay and chat, but I promised to help in the kitchen.” Mary disappeared as quickly and efficiently as his sister.
“Cowards,” Ellie muttered, and shook her head. “Look, I’m not hitting you up to be my date for the wedding. I’m fine going by myself.”
He nodded. Ellie was smart and independent, but that didn’t mean she wanted to go to a wedding alone if everyone else was paired up. They could go as friends. And if he happened to hold her close as they danced... He shook his head, but the image of Ellie in his arms wouldn’t go away. Huh, Meg wasn’t the only tenacious person today. And damn if Meg hadn’t once again manipulated him. “Are you saying you don’t want to go with me? I’ve been known to behave myself in public.”
Ellie raised her eyebrows, but her eyes glinted with mischief. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”
“Lies and exaggerations. Don’t believe a word you hear and only half of what you see.” He pulled a face.
“Uh-huh, sure.” She laughed and went back to dishing out cake.
Her laugh washed over him and he arranged the plates so the empty ones were closer to her. People had begun lining up at the other end of the string of tables, but no one had reached the dessert station yet. He took advantage and hurried to Ellie’s side of the table. He could help hand out the cake. Yeah, he was a regular do-gooder and it had nothing to do with standing next to Ellie and breathing in her light, flowery scent. “Why don’t you want to go to this wedding with me?”
Ellie shook her head. “I’m not looking for a pity date.”
He sighed. If she knew where his thoughts had been, she wouldn’t be saying that. Besides, it wasn’t like a real date because they’d be friends hanging out together. As simple as that. “So how do I appeal to your better nature and get you to take pity on me?”
“What? No. I meant...” she sputtered, her face turning pink again. She made what sounded like an impatient noise and put the last slice of cake on a plate.
He shouldn’t, but he enjoyed seeing her flustered and if he was the cause, all the better, because she certainly had that effect on him. “How did you do that?”
She looked up and frowned. “Do what?”
He could get lost in those eyes. Focus, McBride. He cleared his throat and pointed to the last cake square on the plate. “You made those come out even.”
A smile spread across her face and she glanced around before leaning close. “It’s my superpower.”
“I’m intrigued,” he whispered, but he wasn’t referring to cake or plates.
She straightened and turned her attention to a woman who appeared in front of them. “Hello, Mrs. Canterbury. Cake?”
After the woman had taken her cake and left, he bumped his hip against Ellie’s. “Whaddaya say, Harding, help a guy out. Do your good deed for the month and come to this wedding with me?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why? So I can perform CPR on the women who faint at your feet?”
Liam threw his head back and laughed. He spotted Meg watching them, a smug expression on her face. He’d deal with his sister later. Maybe he could interest Fiona in a drum set or buy James, who would be walking soon, a pair of those annoying sneakers that squeaked.
Except he was intrigued by the idea of going with Ellie, so he gave her what he hoped was his best puppy-dog face. “Please. I hear it’s the social event of the season.”
“Oh, brother,” she muttered and rolled her eyes.
Why had it suddenly become so important for her to say yes? He should be running the other way. Ellie didn’t strike him as the sort of woman who did casual, and that’s all he was looking for—with Ellie or anyone. Keep it light. No more wrenching losses. But that damn image of holding her while dancing, their bodies in sync, sometimes touching, wouldn’t go away.
“How long are you staying in Loon Lake?”
Her question dragged him away from his thoughts and he frowned. “Exactly when is this wedding?”
“You missed the point. That was my attempt at changing the subject,” she said, and greeted an elderly woman shuffling past.
Liam smiled at the woman and tried to hand her a dessert.
The woman shook her head and held up a plate loaded with meat loaf, potatoes and green beans. “Gotta eat this first, son.”
Liam nodded, put the dessert back on the table and turned his head to Ellie. “I’ll be here for a month.”
“Goodness gracious, son, it won’t take me that long to eat,” the woman said before meandering off to find a seat.
Ellie giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement, and he couldn’t look away. She’s Meg’s friend. Are you forgetting about cancer and how much it hurts to lose someone? Sure, she was in remission, but there was a reason that term was used instead of cured. In his mother’s case, the remission didn’t last. Ellie was off-limits for so many reasons. But that message was getting drowned out. “So, you’ll go with me to this wedding?”
“Look, Liam, I appreciate the offer, but—”
He leaned closer, dragging in her scent, and tilted his head in the direction of his sister. “It might shut her up for a bit. Let her think she got her way.”
“Hmm.” Ellie sucked on her lower lip for a second, then shook her head. “Nah. It’ll just encourage her.”
“It’ll throw her off the scent if we hang out for a bit. We’ll know that’s all we’d be doing, but she won’t.” He’d lost his ever-lovin’ mind. Yup, that must be the explanation for pursuing such an idiotic suggestion.
Ellie smiled and continued to hand out the cake. Although she had fewer freckles than she had as a kid, she still had a sprinkling of them high on her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. He wouldn’t have thought freckles could be sexy, but on Ellie they were, and he had to fight the urge to count them by pressing his fingertips to each one. Or better yet, his tongue.
“But we won’t really be dating?” she asked during a lull in the line of people.
“Did you want to date?” What the hell was he doing asking such a loaded question? He handed out the last piece of cake to an elderly man in a Red Sox baseball cap.
“Meg means well, but it might be nice to take a break from her matchmaking efforts.” She picked up the plate with the frosting-side-down slice and held it up. “Split?”
“Sure.” He reached for the fork she offered. His fingers brushed hers as he took the utensil and their gazes met. “Thanks. Looks delicious.”
Her cheeks turned pink, making the tiny freckles stand out even more. As if they were begging for someone—him—to run their tongue along them. He cleared his throat and jabbed his fork in the cake.
“So, whaddaya say, Harding, do we have a deal?”
She shrugged. “Sure, McBride, why not?” Someone called her name and she turned away to leave but said over her shoulder, “We’ll talk.”
He set the fork on the empty plate and watched her disappear into the kitchen. She never did answer his question about wanting to date. Not that it mattered, because they would be hanging out. No dating. No relationship. Nice and safe: the way he preferred it.
