Do You Take This Baby?

Why do you have a baby? Whose is it? Clearly, the situation was a surprise. He was about to purchase half the infant-care aisle and didn’t seem to know a single thing about infants.

“Who’s with the baby now?”

“I hired a nanny.” He frowned. “She’s young.”

“Oh. I’m sure she’s capable.” And I am going to mind my own beeswax. “I’d better get going,” she said hastily before she could change her mind. “My nephew is really uncomfortable.”

“Right. Okay.” He looked at his cart and frowned. “Me, too. I’d better—” he waved a hand “—head home.”

“Good luck with everything, Ethan.”

“You, too.”

As he picked up a box of infant cold and fever medication and stared dubiously at the label, she sped up the aisle toward the single cashier on duty. Her mother would kill her for not getting all the info on Ethan’s mystery baby. Come to think of it, it was strange that he hadn’t told Scott, who surely would have mentioned it to Elyse, who would have told not only their mother, but all of her former sorority sisters and everyone else who would listen. “Oh—” She turned back. “I’m supposed to ask if you’ll be at the rehearsal dinner and whether you’re bringing a date to the wedding.”

Ethan glanced up. “Yes. And no.”

“Yes to the rehearsal dinner, no to the date?”

“Right.”

“Okay. Well, see you soon.”

He nodded, turning back to the cold medicine, his brow furrowed in thought.

Gemma continued on her way. No date. She could thrill quite a few women with that information. And flatly refused to consider her own response.

Paying for her items and carrying the bag to her car, she tried not to think about William or about how, if he hadn’t ended the engagement, they would have been married by now, attending Elyse’s wedding as husband and wife and quite possibly arguing over baby names (he liked Jane for a girl; she favored Eliza). Instead, she was flying solo with shriveling ovaries, while Ethan, who apparently chose dating celebrities as his off-season sport, wasn’t bringing anyone to the wedding...but did have a baby.

Forget Ethan. Forget William. And, for heaven’s sake, stop thinking about your ovaries.

But she kept picturing Ethan with a baby and seeing images of him in high school, dating cheerleaders. And going out with her, Gemma. Once.

Turning the key in the ignition, she found the bag of ripple chips and tore it open. She just might require a few peanut butter cookies, too, for the lonely drive to her sister’s house.

* * *

Elyse and Scott’s rehearsal dinner was held at Summit Lodge, a fabulous place that could accommodate rustic or more formal affairs. Nestled into the base of Thunder Ridge, the Scottish-themed lodge allowed guests to enjoy the mountain’s year-round majesty, and every December, Santa distributed presents among the boys and girls whose parents brought them to Brunch with Saint Nick. Gemma’s baby sister had chosen the lodge as her wedding venue all the way back in elementary school.

Because it was Memorial Day weekend, and Oregon’s weather could be unreliable, Elyse had opted to walk down a formal staircase and up the aisle between rows of guests who would be seated before one of the lodge’s massive stone fireplaces. Elyse and Scott were being married by their friend Jessie, an ordained minister. The fireplace was so tall and so wide that they, their officiate and some of the wedding party could have stood inside it.

It was in this majestic, romantic environment that Gemma saw Ethan for the first time since their meeting in the market.

At their current altitude, it was a bit chilly, and in his ivory cable-knit sweater and straight-leg jeans, he fit perfectly into his surroundings. His hair glowed golden in the ambient lights, and his blue eyes held their customary laugh, but once, when he glanced Gemma’s way, she thought he looked stressed.

Elyse had Gemma running around, asking so many questions and tying up so many loose ends that there was no time at all to speak to Ethan. Her sister’s remaining bridesmaids, on the other hand, seemed to find plenty of time to gather around the sports star. He looked as if he were holding court, and his million-dollar smile almost made her think she’d imagined the tension. So far no one she knew had mentioned Ethan’s baby news. Sometimes it seemed she’d dreamed the whole thing.

As the rehearsal finally wound up, Gemma dropped into one of the wide chairs positioned around the perimeter of the room. She still hadn’t caught up on the sleep she’d missed while running to Lucy’s last weekend, and at school, rapidly approaching final exams had kept her working extra hours. She was toast, and the wedding was tomorrow.

“Auntie Gem! Auntie Gem!”

Her brother David’s six-year-old twins, Violet and Vivian, ran over and grabbed her hands.

“Do you wanna see the floor where we get to dance tomorrow? We know where it is! Come on, we’ll show you. Come on, Auntie Gem! Come on!”

Resisting the yanking of her appendages, she instead pulled the chair with her and frowned doubtfully into freckled faces topped by curly auburn hair. “Do I know either of you? You don’t look like anyone I know.”

“We’re your nieces!” Vivian, the bolder of the two, told her indignantly. “You knowed us since we were babies.”

“You changed our diapers,” Violet, the more serious of the two, pointed out.

“Really?” Bending toward each in turn, she sniffed. “No, you don’t smell like those kids. They were stinky.”

Both girls dissolved into giggles as Gemma cuddled them.

“We’re not stinky anymore, Auntie Gem,” Violet informed her. “Mommy says we have to take a bath once a year, whether we need it or not.”

Gemma grinned. “Yeah, I do the same. Once a year, no excuses.”

“I knew we had something in common.”

The deep voice had them all raising their eyes. Ethan was looking right at her, azure gaze steady, his smile an ad company’s dream.

Gemma glanced around, wondering if the groupie bridesmaids, as she was starting to think of them, were going to pop up in a second. But nope, amazingly, he was alone.

“Your fellow bridesmaids are with Elyse and Minna,” he supplied as if reading her mind, “making sure there are enough mirrors for everyone to get ready tomorrow. First one who calls a mirror gets to use it.” He arched a brow. “You want me to take you to them so you can stake your claim?”

“I’m not very competitive. I’d rather take my chances with a compact. How about you? Shouldn’t you be duking it out with the groomsmen for mirror rights?”

The perfect lips unfurled into an electrifying grin. “Nah. I just roll out of bed, and I’m pretty already.”

He may have been joking, but it was the gospel truth. Not that she’d seen him straight out of bed, but... Gemma sighed. It only took a glance to realize he’d been gifted. If she was plain as brown bread, he was red velvet cake.

“I think I can guess who these lovely ladies are.” Ethan looked at the two girls who were staring at him, a bit intimidated. Getting down on his haunches to make his six-foot-three-inch body less imposing, he said, “Your dad is Gemma’s brother. Am I right?”

Protectively, Gemma pulled her nieces closer. That is the kind of smile for which you do not fall.

Vivian spoke up first. “No. She’s our aunt.”

Ethan pursed his beautiful lips. (And, really, why were those wasted on a man? The Cupid’s bow looked drawn on.) “Hmm. So that would mean your father is Gemma’s...grandfather?”

“No!” The girls rocked with laughter.

“Your father is her...great-grandfather?”

“No!”

“Her son?”