Colton's Surprise Family

Watching him walk away, she knew she should just let him go. “Wait,” she called, causing both the bartender and Damien to look at her.

She shot the bartender a glare that had him turning away, suddenly busy with rearranging something behind the bar. Since Damien made no move to come back to her, she rose and walked to him instead. “If you’d just let me explain—”

“You don’t have to.” He cut her off, flashing her a twisted smile. Cramming his cowboy hat back on his head, he grabbed his coat from the coatrack and headed out the door.

Inexplicably close to tears, Eve watched him go. Then, avoiding the bartender’s gaze, she grabbed her coat from the booth and made her way outside into the swirling, blowing snow.

Outside, the snowstorm seemed to be gathering strength. She hurried to her vehicle, shivering against the blustering wind.

Her Ford Explorer was old, but she kept it well-maintained. There was no reason for it not to start, but when she turned the key in the ignition and got only a quiet click, she knew she was in trouble.

Just to be sure, she tried again.

Nothing.

Breath blowing plumes in the frozen air, she checked her watch. Ten o’clock. Nothing to do but go back inside the Corner Bar and see if the bartender would give her a ride home.

It was either that or call someone to come get her, and then she’d have to explain why she’d been at the bar drinking by herself.

Cursing under her breath, she pushed open the car door. The icy wind hit her like a slap to the face, making her raise the hood on her jacket as a shield. Hunched against the cold, she made her way back in the direction she’d come.

“Car trouble?” Damien Colton appeared out of the darkness, snow dusting his hair and shoulders.

Miserable, she nodded. “It won’t start.”

“Mind if I take a look?”

She handed over the car keys, watching as he attempted to start her car with the same results. “It’s either your battery or the alternator. Either way, it’s too cold and stormy to do anything about it tonight. I’ll give you a ride home and you can deal with your car later.”

“Great.” She followed him to his pickup. At least now, he’d have no choice but to listen to her explanation.

The first thing she realized when she saw his truck was that it looked awfully familiar. “Is this the same—?”

“Truck I had back before I got convicted? Yes.” He unlocked the passenger-side door and opened it for her, waiting while she climbed up before closing it.

The cab of the older truck had a bench seat. Thoughts of what she and Damien had once done on that very same seat made her flush warmly.

Once he’d gotten in, she watched as he started the engine, waiting for him to elaborate.

When he didn’t, she sighed. “Look, about what I said earlier—”

“No need to explain.” He cut her off brusquely. “You of all people don’t owe me anything.”

“I owe you an explanation. I don’t want you thinking the reason I—”

Muttering a curse, he slammed on the brakes, sending the pickup into a spin on the snowy roads. They did a nearly perfect donut, ending up facing the same way they’d been going. Damien inched them forward, until they were on what appeared to be the shoulder of the road.

Then, while she still reeled with shock, he reached for her, yanking her up against him and capturing her mouth. He kissed her long and hard and deep. When he raised his head, Eve couldn’t find her breath.

“What was that?”

“Me proving to you that you want me.”

“I never said I didn’t.” She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. “I said I couldn’t be in any sort of relationship with anyone right now.”

“Relationship? Hell, I don’t want a relationship.”

Confused, she looked at him, so brooding and dark and dangerous. “Then what do you want?”

“Sex,” he said, his tone harsh. “I just wanted to have sex with you.”

Stunned, she couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. “Sex?” she finally repeated. “Wow, you certainly don’t believe in sugarcoating it.”

“Why call a spade anything other than a spade? I want you, Eve. You want me, too, I can tell. Neither one of us is attached right now and we’re both adults. Why not?”

For a second she closed her eyes, tempted beyond belief. Massimo in Italy had wanted the same thing, just sex, though he’d prettied it up with honeyed words and candy-coated lies. In the end, she thought, it might have been better, at least for her, if he’d told the truth. Then maybe she wouldn’t have felt like such a fool when it ended the way it had.

“I appreciate your honesty,” she said slowly. “And yes, I do find you attractive. Very much so.”

He crossed his arms, watching her, waiting. She recognized the look she saw on his face. He was expecting to be hurt, wounded, as he’d been for the last fifteen years. He really didn’t believe she’d sleep with him, and any explanation she’d give him would reinforce his apparently deep-seated belief that he deserved to be treated poorly.

Any explanation that is, but the truth.

“Damien, I’m pregnant.”

This he hadn’t expected. “You’re…what?”

“This summer I went to Italy. I took the trip by myself, to celebrate the last year of my thirties. When I was there, I met a man. We had the kind of thing you just proposed, only I didn’t know it at the time.” To her chagrin, her throat closed up.

“You’re pregnant,” he repeated.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Does the father know?”

Now she hung her head. “This is the hardest part of my story. He disappeared. I looked for ten days, but I couldn’t find him.”

“You didn’t know his name.”

“He called himself Massimo. One word. Silly, but I thought it romantic.”

Damien let that one go, bless him. “Are you keeping the baby?”

“Oh, yes.” Cradling her stomach protectively, she nodded. “I want this baby very much. And you’re the only one who knows.”

Again she’d surprised him, judging from the look on his face. “You haven’t told your family?”

“No. I’m waiting as long as I can.” Oddly enough, telling him made her feel as though a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “You know how this town can be. My mom will be thrilled—she’s been wanting a grandbaby for forever. But I feel sort of foolish, goofing up so badly at thirty-nine years old.”