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He forced himself to ignore the hurt in her tone. He needed to build the distance between them back up. But when she turned those big blue eyes on him something long buried inside him cracked.
“Lainey—”
She gave a little shake of her head as she reached her car. “Thanks again.”
To hell with it.
Ben turned her around as she fumbled in her pocket for her keys. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, but before she could say anything he dipped his head and covered her mouth with his.
After a heartbeat, her cold mouth opened and let him into her warmth. It had been so long since he’d felt anything, anything, and she was warm and soft and so, so sweet. He fisted his hand in her hair to angle her head, so he could go deeper, and her moan lit fires inside him that had long been dormant.
For a reason.
He broke the kiss and stepped back, his ragged breath catching in his chest. God, what had he done?
She blinked up at him, her gaze smoky and slightly confused. Then her eyes cleared and a look of pure horror crossed her face.
“I’ve got to go,” she said, yanking her keys out of her pocket.
“Lainey, I’m sorry.”
As soon as the words were out he knew they were the wrong thing to say.
Dear Reader,
You are holding in your hands my very first published book! It’s been quite a ride—it’s been a 2012 RWA® Golden Heart® Finalist and a 2011 Mills & Boon New Voices Top 21 Finalist, both of which opened doors I couldn’t even imagine. Now, I’m writing this letter for you before you read Lainey and Ben’s story. I’m still pinching myself!
Lainey’s struggling—she’s trying so hard to get her life going the way she thinks it’s supposed to be, but she just keeps getting curve after curve pitched her way. Ben is struggling too, but with inner demons that keep him from reaching for what he really wants. Together, the two of them learn that age-old lesson about best-laid plans and that, really, sometimes you’ve got to take a leap of faith to find your way home.
Please visit me at amiweaver.com and say hello!
All my best,
Ami Weaver
About the Author
Two-time Golden Heart® finalist AMI WEAVER has been reading romance since she was a teen and writing for even longer, so it was only natural she would put the two together. Now she can be found drinking gallons of iced tea at her local coffee shop while doing one of her very favourite things—convincing two characters they deserve their happy-ever-after. When she’s not writing she enjoys time spent at the lake, hanging out with her family and reading. Ami lives in Michigan with her four kids, three cats, and her very supportive husband.
This is Ami Weaver’s fabulous first book for Mills & Boon!
An Accidental
Family
Ami Weaver
MILLS & BOON
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For the Wicked Muses: Chelle, Jodie, Marcy and Rae.
Thank you for all your help. I love you all.
And for Dale, who believed. xo
CHAPTER ONE
THE STICK WAS pink.
Lainey Keeler squeezed her eyes shut, lifted the test with one trembling hand, then peeked with her right eye only.
Yup. Definitely a pink line. Maybe she needed to check the instructions to be sure….
Oh, God. How had this happened?
Okay, so she knew the technicalities of the how. In fact, she knew the when. Lord help her, that was the kicker.
Her eyes swam and her stomach rolled as she reached for the test box anyway, knowing what she’d see there. Knowing the result would read the same as the four other sticks—all different brands—in the garbage.
Knowing she’d been screwed in more ways than one.
So this was the price she paid for one night of lust infused with a heavy dose of stupidity. She slumped on the cold tile of the bathroom floor and let her head thunk on the vanity door. Hysterical laughter bubbled in her throat and she pressed her fingertips to her temples. Did it count, fifteen years after graduation, that she’d finally bedded the star quarterback? The same one she’d nurtured a killer crush on all through high school?
And managed to conceive his baby?
“And here I thought I had the flu,” she said to her calico cat, who observed her from the doorway. Panda’s squinty blink in response could have meant anything. “Why didn’t being pregnant occur to me?”
Single and pregnant. Right when she was starting a new business and her life couldn’t be more unstable.
What would her parents say? She winced at the thought. At thirty-three, she was supposed to be burning up the career ladder. Instead, much to her family’s chagrin, she burned through careers.
Chewing her lower lip, she took a last look at the pink line, then tossed the test stick in the trash with the others. Five pregnancy tests couldn’t be wrong, no matter how much she wished it. She needed a plan.
“A plan is good,” she said to the cat in the doorway. Panda meowed in response. Shoot, what was she going to do? She stepped over the cat and hurried into the small hallway, facing straight into her pocket-sized bedroom. Panic kicked up a two-step in her belly. She’d need a bigger place. The cozy one-bedroom apartment above her shop, The Lily Pad, worked beautifully for one person and an overweight cat. But adding a baby to the mix …? Babies needed so much stuff. She laid her hand on her still-flat belly. A baby.
Good God, she was going to be a mother.
She clenched her eyes shut and willed the tears away. What kind of mother would she be? Her ex and her family told her over and over she tended to be flighty and irresponsible. A baby meant responsibility, stability.
What if it turned out they were right? She certainly hadn’t demonstrated good judgment on the night of her reunion.
The thought sliced her to the core and she took a deep breath. No time to cry. Not when she had a shop to open in a few minutes. Beth Gatica, her friend and employee, was already downstairs. She swiped at her eyes, tried to think.
“Where do I start?” she wondered aloud, trying to get her head clear enough to think.
A doctor. She’d need a doctor. Her usual doctor happened to be a friend of her family’s, so she’d definitely have to head over to Traverse City. Since she felt better with something to do, she reached for the phone book.
“Lainey?” Beth’s voice came through the door connecting the apartment to the shop. “Are you okay?”
Lainey fumbled the phone book and caught sight of herself in the small mirror next to the door. Dark blond hair already escaping from her ponytail? Check. Dark circles under her eyes? Check. Pasty skin? Yikes. Wasn’t there supposed to be some kind of pregnancy glow? “I’m fine,” she called. “Be right there.”
“Okay, good. Because we’ve got a problem.”
Well, of course they did. Lainey marched over and yanked open the door, almost grateful for the distraction. “What kind of problem?”
“Come see.” Beth turned and hurried down the stairs, long dark curls bouncing. The fresh, cool scent of flowers hit Lainey as they entered the workroom. Beth tipped her head toward the older of the two walk-in coolers. “It’s not cold enough, Laine. It’s set where it’s supposed to be, but it’s nearly twelve degrees warmer in there.”
“Oh, no.” No. She needed the cooler to last another year—like she needed the van with its iffy transmission to last another six months. Preferably twelve. A headache began to pulse at the edges of her brain at the thought of her nearly empty bank account. Using only one cooler would mean reducing inventory, which meant possibly not being able to meet the needs of her customers. Which meant less income. And she couldn’t afford to lose a single cent at this point.
To say The Lily Pad operated on a shoestring budget was to put it optimistically.
She pulled open the door, even though she didn’t doubt Beth. She could feel the difference as soon as she walked in. She tapped the thermostat with her finger. Maybe it was stuck somewhere? She should be so lucky.
“Call Gary at General Repair,” she said to Beth. “See if he can get us in today.”
“On it.” Beth hurried to the phone.
Lainey headed to the working cooler to do some rearranging. Some of the more delicate flowers would have to be moved over.
She tamped down the spurt of fear and worry that threatened to explode. No point inviting trouble, and Lainey figured she had enough to fill her personal quota. She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh, green scent of the flowers, with their overtones of sweet and tangy and spicy. It always, always relaxed her just to breathe in the flowers.
But not enough, today, to rid her of her worries. About choking coolers. About babies. Lainey smothered a sigh. If she’d stayed home two months ago part of her predicament wouldn’t be here. She’d invited trouble. Or, more accurately, trouble had invited her.
Of course she hadn’t turned him down.
“Gary will be here at eleven,” Beth said from behind her. “Want me to help move things?”
Lainey glanced at her watch. An hour and a half. “Sure. We’ll just move a few for now. Let’s group them by the door so we can open it a minimum of times.” The colder it stayed in there, the better for her bottom line. She couldn’t afford to lose a cooler full of flowers.
“Are you okay, Laine? You’re awfully pale,” Beth commented as she lifted a bucket of carnations out of the way.
Lainey sucked in a breath. Should she tell Beth? They’d been friends for years. Beth wouldn’t ridicule her for her mistake with Jon. It would feel so good to tell someone….
“Lainey?” Beth’s head was cocked, her brown gaze worried. “What’s going on?”
“I’m pregnant,” she blurted, and burst into tears. Beth hurried over to her, nearly knocking a bucket over in the process.
“Honey, are you sure?”
Lainey nodded and swiped at the tears. “Pretty sure.” Five separate pink lines couldn’t be wrong. Could they? “I’ll have to go to a doctor to confirm it, though.”
“Oh, Laine.” Beth hugged her, stepped back. “How far along? I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”
Lainey closed her eyes. Here we go. “Well, I’m actually not. I’m about eight weeks along.” She’d let Beth do the math.
“So that’s—oh.” Beth drew out the word and her eyes rounded. “Your class reunion.”
“Yeah.” Lainey couldn’t meet her friend’s gaze. Her poor baby. How could she ever explain the circumstances of his or her conception?
“So who’s the daddy?”
“Jon Meier.” Lainey could barely say his name. “We … ah … hit it off pretty well.”
Beth gave a wry chuckle and opened the cooler door, a load of calla lilies in her hands. “So it seems.”
“I have to tell him, Beth, but he lives so far away. Plus the whole thing was pretty forgettable, if you know what I mean. We used protection, but obviously …” She shrugged and swiped at her leaking eyes again. “It didn’t work.” An understatement if she’d ever heard one.
“He’s not father material?”
“I don’t know.” It wasn’t as if they’d discussed things like personal lives. “Plus he lives in LA. He’s in some kind of entertainment industry work. He’s not going to pull up and move back to Northern Michigan.” He’d made his contempt for the area crystal-clear.
“Sometimes having a kid changes that,” Beth pointed out.
“True.” Lainey didn’t want to think about it. “But I think we were pretty much in agreement on how awkward the whole thing was.” So much for sex with no strings attached. The baby in her belly was a pretty long string. The length of a lifetime, in fact.
She wanted to bang her head on the wall. What had she been thinking, leaving with Jon that night? Was her self-esteem so damaged by her divorce she had to jump on the first guy who smiled at her?
Best not to answer that.
“I think you’ll be a wonderful mom,” Beth said, and Lainey’s throat tightened.
“Really?” She couldn’t keep the wobble out of her voice. Beth’s confidence touched her. Her family would look at her being single, pregnant and nearly broke and lose their collective minds. She shoved the thought aside.
“Of course. You’re wonderful with my kids. Now, let’s get this finished before Gary gets here.”
“It could go at any time?” Lainey could not believe she’d heard the repairman correctly. A year—she only needed twelve measly months. Why, oh, why was that too much to ask? “Are you sure?”
“Yes. We can cobble this along for a few more months. But you are definitely going to need a new unit.” Gary’s lined face wasn’t without sympathy.
She took a deep breath. “Do what you have to, Gary. I need it to last as long as possible.”
The repairman nodded and returned to the cooling unit.
Beth stood at the counter, ringing up a large bouquet of brightly colored carnations. A great sale, but not nearly enough to buy a new cooler. Or even a used one.
“Thank you. Have a great day,” Beth said to the customer as he exited the shop. To Lainey she said, “What’s the news?”
“We’re going to need a new cooler. Sooner rather than later, probably.” Exhaustion washed over her and she sank down on the stool behind the counter. “Even used, that’s not something I can swing yet.” Or possibly ever. No cooler, no business. No business, no cooler.
No business, no way to provide for the baby.
A wave of nausea rolled through her at the thought. Another failure. This one could be huge.
“Oh, man.” Beth leaned on the counter. “Well, let’s see. We’ve got the Higgins wedding coming up. We need more weddings. The funeral business has been picking up. That’s good. Maybe….”
She hesitated, and Lainey knew what her friend hadn’t said.
“Maybe if my mother sent business my way we wouldn’t be in this predicament,” she finished. “I know. I agree. I’ve asked.” The answer, while not in so many words, was that the florist her mother used had been around a lot longer and wasn’t in danger of folding. The implication? Lainey would fail—again.
Beth winced. “I know you have. I just wish she’d support you. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“It’s okay. It’s the truth. I don’t know what will change her mind.” Lainey stood up. “Let’s finish getting the deliveries ready.”
As Lainey gathered flowers and greenery she wondered if she’d let her business go under rather than ask her parents for a loan. They’d give her one, with plenty of strings attached, and she’d have to crawl to get it. This was supposed to be her chance to prove she could make something of her life without advanced degrees or a rich husband.
Right about now it didn’t seem to be working.
Gary came out of the cooler, toolbox in one hand, invoice in the other. “You’re all fixed up, Ms. Keeler. Can’t say how long it’ll last. Could be one month. Could be six. I’m sorry I don’t have better news.”
“The fact it’s running right now is wonderful,” Lainey said. “Thank you. I appreciate you coming on such short notice.”
“Anytime. Have a good day, ladies.” He left the store and the bell above the door chimed, its cheerful sound mocking Lainey’s mood. She looked at the amount on the invoice and sighed.
She’d known when she bought the shop nine months ago there were no guarantees on equipment. Even in her current financial bind she didn’t regret taking the plunge. This shop felt right to her in a way none of her other jobs ever had. Right enough, in fact, that she hoped to someday buy the building outright.
Working steadily throughout the morning, they completed their orders. The repair seemed to be holding for now, thank goodness. Lainey slid the last of the arrangements into the back of the van and closed the door. “All set, Beth. Hopefully we’ll get more this afternoon.”
“Fingers crossed.” Beth climbed in and turned the ignition. She leaned back out the window. “I’ll stop at Dottie’s Deli and grab lunch on the way back. I think we’ve each earned a cheesecake muffin after this morning.”
“Mmm.” Lainey perked up at the thought. Everyone knew the calories in Dottie’s heavenly muffins didn’t count. “Sounds wonderful. Thanks.”
She held her breath as Beth thunked the old van into gear and drove off. Relief washed over her. After this morning she’d half expected the thing to go belly-up out of spite.
“Don’t borrow trouble,” she reminded herself as she turned and went inside.
The chime of the door caught her attention and she hurried to greet the customer.
Fifteen minutes later she started on a new arrangement, this one for a new mom and baby at the hospital. They really needed more of this kind of business—more happy occasions like …
Babies.
Pregnant.
Lainey gulped and gripped the edge of the worktable, her eyes on the array of delicate pastel flowers she’d gathered. She only had about seven months to stabilize her shop and get ready to be a new mom herself. A single new mom.
Seven months.
No one could ever accuse her of doing things the easy way.
Ben Lawless pulled into the driveway of his grandmother’s old farmhouse and stared. Same white paint, black shutters. The wide porch was missing its swing, but two rockers sat in its place. The two huge maples in the front yard had dropped most of their leaves. Funny, he’d been gone for so many years but this old house still felt like home.
He frowned at the strange car parked behind his grandmother’s trusty Buick. Last thing he wanted was to talk to anyone other than his grandma, to deal with friendliness and well-meaning questions. Acting normal was exhausting.
He pushed open the truck door, stepped out and scanned the layout of the front yard. Plenty of room for a ramp, though some of the porch railing would have to be removed, and it would block one of the flowerbeds lining the house’s foundation. He kicked at the leaves littering the cracked walkway. The uneven concrete posed a hazard even to an able-bodied person. Why couldn’t Grandma admit she needed help?
Why did you assume she didn’t need it?
His self-recrimination didn’t get any farther as the front door opened and framed his beaming grandmother in her wheelchair. He tried not to wince at the sight. She’d always been so tough, strong and able, and now she looked so small. He moved up the walk and the stairs to the porch.
“Grandma.” He bent down to give her an awkward hug in the chair, afraid to hold on too tight. “How are you?”
She hugged him back firmly and patted his face. “I’m good. Making the best of this, I hope.” She studied his face for a moment, her clear blue eyes seeing too much. “I’m so glad you’re here. Not sleeping well?”
He straightened, not surprised by the observation. “Good enough.”
She gave him a look, but dropped the subject and rolled back into the house. “Where are my manners? Come in, come in. I want you to meet a very good friend of mine.”
Ben braced himself as he followed her across the familiar living room to the kitchen. Hopefully this friend wasn’t one of the mainstays of Holden’s Crossing’s gossip mill. Last thing he needed was word getting out and people asking him questions or making accusations. He stopped dead when he looked into the cool blue gaze of the gorgeous—and young—blond at the kitchen table.
“Ben Lawless, meet Lainey Keeler. Lainey, this is my grandson. The one who’s a firefighter in Grand Rapids.” The pride in Rose’s voice made Ben’s stomach twist. “Lainey was a few years behind you in school, Ben.”
No way. This was his grandmother’s friend? Long dark blond ponytail, a few strands loose around a heart-shaped face. Clear blue eyes, smooth creamy skin. Full breasts a snug pink tee didn’t hide. He gave her a brief nod, forced the proper words out. “Nice to meet you.”
Her smile curved, but didn’t reach her eyes. “Same here. Rose has told me so much about you.”
“Did she?” He tensed at her comment, then forced himself to relax. It didn’t mean she actually knew anything. He rested his hand on his grandmother’s thin shoulder. “Grandma, I’m going to bring in my things, okay?”
Lainey rose. “I’ll walk you out.” She leaned down to plant a kiss on his grandma’s cheek and gave her a hug. “I’ll see you in a couple of days, Rose.”
“Don’t work too hard, honey,” Grandma said, and Ben nearly laughed. If he remembered correctly, none of the Keelers had to work. They’d been given anything and everything on the proverbial platter.
Ben caught a whiff of her scent, something floral, as she moved past him. Since he’d gotten boxed in, he followed her out into the cool early October night.
Once on the porch, she turned to him with a frown. “She’s glad you’re here.”
“And you’re not.”
Those big blue eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure. She’s been struggling for months now. Where were you then?”
Temper flared at the accusation in her tone. He’d felt bad enough once he’d realized how much help his grandma needed. He didn’t need this chick sticking her nose in, too. No matter how hot she was. “She isn’t big on admitting she needs help.” Seemed to run in the family.
Lainey gave him a look that said he was full of it and stomped off the porch. “She’s in her eighties. How could you not come visit and check on her?”
Guilt lanced through him. “She always said she was fine, okay? I’m here now.” Why did he care if this woman thought he was a total heel?
She shrugged. “You still should have checked on her. How far is it up here? She’s so proud of you. But you never bothered to visit.”
Even in the dim light he saw the sparks in her blue gaze, the anger on his grandmother’s behalf. “I’m here now,” he said, his own temper rising.
“Till you leave. Then where will she be?” She spun around and strode across the yard.
God help him, he couldn’t pull his gaze off her tight little tush. She climbed in the little car and slammed the door. The spray of gravel that followed her out to the road said it all.
Well, great. He’d managed to tick off his grandmother’s hot little friend.
Ben shook his head and stepped off the porch, walked to his truck to get his bags. He’d done something far worse than that. His best friend was dead, thanks to him, and any problems with Lainey Keeler were not even on his list of important things. It made no difference what she thought of him.
Back inside, his grandma frowned at him. “Why were you rude to Lainey?”
But of course it would matter to Grandma. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. I didn’t know you two were friends.”
“We are. We met awhile back when she volunteered for Senior Services and just clicked, as you young people say. She comes out every Wednesday. More if she can. I didn’t think you knew her.” His grandmother’s eyes were sharp on his face.
“I don’t. Just knew of her. She was four years behind me in school, as you said. How are you feeling?”
She studied him for a second, then seemed to accept the change of topic. “Every day is a little harder. I’m so glad you’re here and can make this old house a little easier to live in. I don’t want to leave it.”
These last words were spoken in a soft tone. Ben knew this was the only home she’d lived in with his grandfather, her husband of fifty years. Her best friend.
The kind of love and relationship he’d ended for Jason and Callie.
Pain pounded at his temples and he closed his eyes. He shoved it down, locked it back into the deepest part of him he could. Thing was, that place was nearly full these days.
“You won’t have to leave, Grandma. You’ll have to tell me what you’d like done besides the ramp. Even in the dark I noticed the walk out front has seen better days.”
Her smile was rueful. “A lot around here has seen better days, Ben.”
“We’ll get it fixed up, Grandma. You won’t have to leave,” he repeated.
“I know. I’m very grateful to you.” She maneuvered the chair toward the living room. “Let me show you to your room. Well, partway anyway.”
Ben started to say he knew where it was, but of course she’d have taken over the downstairs bedroom after the arthritis in her hip got too bad. “Which one?” There were three upstairs.
She stopped at the base of the stairs and looked up, the sorrow and longing clear on her face. “The back bedroom. It has the best view and is the biggest room. Lainey freshened it up for you. Dusted, clean sheets, the whole shebang. The bathroom is ready, too.”
His grandparents’ old room.
“Okay. Tell her thanks for me.”
Grandma backed her chair up and gave him a little smile. “You can tell her yourself. Didn’t I mention she visits a lot?”
He stared at her. Uh-oh. “Grandma. I’m not interested.”
She slid him a look and her smile widened. “No one said you were.”
He’d walked right into that one.
Smoke filled the room, smothering him, searing his lungs, his eyes, his skin. God, he couldn’t see through the gray haze. A cough wracked him, tearing at his parched throat. He couldn’t yell for his friend. Where was Jason? He couldn’t reach him. Had to get him out before the house came down around them. A roar, a crack, and a fury of orange lit the room. The ceiling caved in a crash fueled by the roar of flames. He spun around, but the door was blocked by a flaming heap of debris. Under it, a boot. Jason. Coming to save him.
Ben woke with a start, his eyes watering and the breath heaving out of his lungs as if he’d been sprinting for his life. Where the hell was he? Moonlight slanted through the window, silver on the floor. The curtain stirred in the faint breeze. He sat up and pushed himself through the fog of sleep. Grandma Rose’s house. Had he cried out? God, what if she’d heard him? Shame flowed over him like a lava river. He stepped out of bed, mindful of the creaky floor, and walked down the hall to the bathroom near the landing.
No sound came from downstairs.
He exhaled a shaky breath and went into the bathroom. He’d been afraid of this—of the nightmare coming. He had no power over it—over what it was, what it did to him. No control.
He turned on the squeaky faucet with unsteady hands and splashed cold water on his face. There’d be no more sleep for him tonight.
