More Than She Expected

He picked up the tablet, tucking it to his side. “Mom was great,” he said softly. “Not that the Colonel wasn’t—isn’t—but she was more about going with the flow. Pop’s...he’s a good man, don’t get me wrong, but he had pretty definite ideas about how things should be done—” His phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket, frowned. “Damn, it’s later than I thought. I really need to go—”

“No, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to keep you.”

“Look, I meant it, about wanting you to come see that fountain. Make sure you really like it before I lug it over here. Whenever you want... Here.” He dug in the same pocket for a business card. “If I’m not there, Abs will be. So. Deal?”

“Deal,” Laurel said, and he smiled. Like, right into her eyes, smiled. Then he hopped over the trench and up on his own deck before she finally hauled herself onto hers and back inside, where she turned on the central air the previous owners had installed, bless their hot little hearts.

Unbuttoning her blouse, she stood in the middle of the living room, where cool air washed over her bare, bulging belly. Not as much as some bellies bulged at five months, perhaps, but she definitely no longer looked as though she’d just gone on a doughnut binge.

As in, soon people would start noticing.

Like, say, hunky neighbors and such.

Hunky neighbors who were surprisingly easy to talk to, given how uneasy and tongue-tied and awkward she usually felt around men.

Not bothering to button her top—like who was gonna see?—Laurel returned to the kitchen for her own bottle of tea, reminding herself that even if she hadn’t been pregnant, Tyler and she would have never happened. For a whole slew of reasons, spoken, unspoken, sort-of spoken...whatever. That, frankly, as sweet a kid as he was—and as much as her libido was letting her fantasies run amok—compared with her, he was a kid. And she hadn’t been a kid since...well, ever, really.

She twisted off the cap, took a long swallow, then rubbed the cold, smooth bottle to her overheated forehead. Because for too many years—and except for one single, if major, lapse of judgment—she’d been about what made sense. What was practical.

Which Tyler Noble was definitely not.

On her return to her living room, her laptop once more caught her eye. She should really try to get at least a couple pages done today. Except, you know what? Her deadline wasn’t for another month. And last week the words had flowed quite nicely, thank you. So if all went well she’d get the next book in well before the baby came, and then...

And then, she thought on a sharp intake of air.

Her life would change forever.

A little freaked, truth be told, Laurel plopped on her sofa and grabbed the remote, clicking through the menu until she found, of all things, a cooking show. Since, if she was going to be somebody’s mother, she should probably learn how to feed the kid.

Because that was the practical thing to do.

* * *

Judging from the sounds and scents when Ty stopped by his brother Matt’s after work to pick up the beast, everybody was in the backyard, where Matt’s fiancée’s kids rushed him and both dogs serenaded him like they’d been apart for years.

In front of the grill, Matt was tending enough burgers to feed all of Maple River. Boomer duly acknowledged and reassured, Ty scooped Aislin, Kelly’s curly-headed three-year-old, into his arms and marched over, his stomach rumbling and his head fizzing a little, like it always did when he was around kids. Especially cuties like this one.

“Weren’t expecting you ’til later,” Matt said, flipping the sizzling meat and sending a plume of cow-scented smoke wafting into the humid, early-evening air. “Thought you had a date.”

“She canceled,” he said. Matt gave him a look; Ty shrugged. “It was pretty much done, anyway.” His older brother gave a low chuckle. “What?”

“Nothing. You wanna stay for dinner? Kelly made potato salad that’ll make you weep, no lie. And some ridiculous dessert.” Ty’s future sister-in-law was a caterer. Damn good one, too. “Seriously, if you don’t help us eat this stuff, I’m not gonna fit in my uniform anymore.”

“Can’t stay. Since, now that I’m free—”

“Again. Or is that still?”

Tyler ignored him. “I might as well start on the wall. And you’re a detective, when was the last time you wore a uniform?”

“Whatever—”

“Hey, Uncle Ty!” Tyler grinned over as Cooper, Kelly’s eight-year-old son sprinted across the grass, the late-day sun glinting off his glasses, his warm brown curls. Ty gave the kid a high five.

“How’s it goin’, dude?”

“Great! Dad said he’s gonna set up one of those big swimming pools, right over there!” He pointed to the far corner of the yard, where the Boomer and Alf were noisily wrestling. “Cool, huh?”

“Very cool,” Ty said, shooting his brother a glance. Then, to Coop again: “You can swim?”

“Not yet, but Dad signed Linnie and me up at the Y for lessons—”

“Hey, sport, these are almost done. Go see if your mom’s got the rest of the food ready.”

“On it!”

Linnie squealed to get down; Ty obliged, watching the kids bound off before turning back to his brother. “Dad?” he said, shoving aside the strangest twinge of...something.

Underneath a dark beard haze that passed five-o’clock shadow at least three days ago, Matt grinned. “It just popped out the other day. Not sure which of us was more surprised.”

“I can imagine. How’s it feel?”

His brother lowered the lid on the grill, then crossed his arms. “Amazing? Scary? Humbling, for sure.” Matt glanced toward the house. “I only hope I don’t screw it up.”

Like Tyler, Matt—and his twin sister, Sabrina, who lived in Manhattan—had been adopted when they were older, in their case after their parents died in a car crash. And, since Matt never mentioned his father, Ty suspected there were some unresolved issues there. True, they’d only been six when their folks died, but some things imprint early. He should know.

“Screw it up? Are you kidding? You’ve so got this, man.” Ty clapped his brother’s shoulder. “Seriously.”

Matt sighed, but through a crooked smile. Dude was the happiest Ty had ever seen him. After his skank ex had cheated on him like that? On somebody who, as far as Ty knew, had never done anything wrong in his entire freaking life? He totally deserved to be happy—

“So you ready for the wedding?” Matt asked.

“Hey. All I have to do is show up.” He snatched a piece of American cheese off the plate by the grill. “You’re the one getting married. Again.”

“Your time will come, buddy. Yes, it will, don’t give me that look. You sure you don’t want to stay for dinner? Or you just gonna eat all my cheese?”

“Don’t hold your breath, no, and don’t get your boxers in a bunch, there’s still four pieces left. Okay, three,” he said, stuffing another slice in his mouth.

“Why aren’t you staying?” Kelly appeared like an apparition, setting a bowl of creamy potato salad flecked with bits of red and green something or other on the tempered glass table beside him.

“The wall,” he said, trying not to drool, and she nodded.

“Right. Forgot. Then at least let me send home a doggie bag—”

“You don’t have to do that...”

“No arguments. There’s plenty. And if you stare any harder at the potato salad you’re going to meld with it. Coop, honey? Go get... Oh, never mind, I’ll do it.” She patted Ty’s shoulder. “Do not move.”

After she tromped off, her red curls bouncing between her shoulder blades, Matt chuckled. “The woman lives to feed people. I am so blessed.”