Having Tanner Bravo's Baby

“Oh, I’m so sorry….”

“I heard the alarm, smelled the smoke. I called your name—loud. When you didn’t answer, I thought you must be passed out from smoke inhalation. But when I got in here and got the windows open…no sign of you.”

She knew how his mind worked. He’d been a private detective for too long. “You probably thought I’d been kidnapped, trussed up in a burlap bag, and dragged off to who knows where, while my lasagna was left to burn.”

“Something like that.”

“Honestly, Tanner, I’m so, so sorry.” Ugh. She was not only pregnant and unemployed with four hundred twenty-three dollars and sixteen cents in her checking account, she’d made Tanner worry for her safety. And her apartment reeked of burned lasagna. Did it get any worse than this? She met Tanner’s dark, watchful eyes. Oh, yeah, it got worse. There was still the big news to break. She explained, “The neighbor’s cat ran away. I went to help her find him.”

He unfolded his arms and hooked his hands on the counter behind him. Mildly, he suggested, “Next time turn off the oven first.”

“Yeah. Good idea.”

“Did you find the cat?”

“We did. More or less—actually, the cat found us.”

“Ah,” he said, meaning he didn’t understand but didn’t really care, either.

There was a silence. They regarded each other. As always when she looked at him, she thought of sex—of the feel of his skin beneath her hands, of the fullness and warmth of his lips on hers, of the rough scrape of his beard-shadowed cheek against her own, of the rich taste of his mouth, of the delicious, complete way he filled her, of the way he moved when he was inside her…

His dark eyes had gone black as midnight. She knew his thoughts mirrored hers. Her body yearned for him. Ached for him.

Three steps separated them. It would have been so easy, just to take those steps, to wrap her arms around his strong neck, to offer up her mouth to his.

She cleared her throat and tore her gaze away.

“Crystal.” He said her name low and rough—but somehow gently, too.

“What?” She knew she sounded like a sulky child. And still, she didn’t face him.

“Look at me.”

“Right.” She sucked in a slow breath and made herself do it.

“What’s going on?”

I’m pregnant. It’s yours, she thought, but all that came out was, “I, um…”

He waited for her to say more. When she didn’t, he shrugged, a lazy movement that made her want to touch him, to spear her fingers into his nearly black hair, and drag those amazing lips of his down onto hers. Hard.

Crystal sucked in a steadying breath and silently reminded herself that no matter how much she wanted him, they were not having sex tonight.

Finally, he spoke. “I turned on the fan that goes with the heater and AC.” Now that he mentioned it, she could hear the soft drone the fan made. “And I opened all the windows.” He gestured beyond the counter that marked off the kitchen, toward the living area and the wide window that looked out on the lawn and the willow trees. “It should clear out the last of the smoke in no time.” An almost smile tugged at one corner of that sinfully sexy mouth of his. “It’s a…real pretty view, out that window. Real nice.”

She felt worse than ever. He was actually making small talk. He didn’t know what was bothering her, but he sensed something was. So he was trying to put her at ease—Tanner, who had been suspicious of her from the first day they met, who guarded his heart from her as fiercely as she did hers from him. Tanner. Who never made small talk.

But he was now. He seemed to sense that she had something huge going on. And since his mind always went down roads of darkness and destruction, he probably imagined the worst: she’d done murder or she was dying of some incurable disease.

Please don’t worry, she wanted to tell him. It’s nothing as bad as all that….

But then he would demand to know what “it” was.

And she would have to tell him, It’s just a baby. Your baby. That’s all.

Which was fine. Perfect. Exactly why she’d asked him there that night.

Yet still, she didn’t say it.

He straightened from the counter and approached her slowly, as if he feared any sudden move might make her whirl and run. When he reached her, he lifted both hands and—oh, so gently—clasped her shoulders.

Crystal melted at his touch and ordered her traitorous body not to sway toward him. “Oh, Tanner…”

He looked deep into her eyes. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it? I mean, really wrong.”

“Um, well, I…”

“It’s not like you to invite me over for dinner. It’s not…what we do.”

“I know.” It wasn’t fair. On top of the killer hotness thing he had going, he was being so kind. So understanding…

“So what’s up?” he asked. “Come on. Tell me. If there’s something I can help you with, I’m on it. You can count on me.”

You can count on me….

She believed him. Tanner was like that. Often brooding and grim. Suspicious by nature and by profession. But solid in a crunch. The kind of person who would never walk away from his responsibilities.

I should just tell him. Why couldn’t she just tell him? She opened her mouth to do it.

“I quit my job today.” The words kind of slipped out: the wrong secret, revealed in place of the one he really needed to know.

He let go of her shoulders and stepped back. “That’s it? That’s what’s wrong? You quit your job?”

“Well.” She looked down and to the side and then forced herself to meet his eyes again. “It is bothering me.”

He gave her a puzzled frown. “You need a loan, is that it?”

She drew herself up. “Me? No way. I’ve quit jobs before. I’ll manage until I find another one. I always do.”

“But that’s why I’m here, right? You invited me to dinner because you wanted to tell me you quit your job?”

“Uh. Not exactly. But I did. I quit. Today. This afternoon.”

He raked a hand back through his hair. She watched his bicep bulge with the movement and imagined sinking her teeth into the silky skin there—but gently. Teasingly…

“Okay,” he said patiently. “Then…you’re going to tell me all about it?”

“About…?”