Lucy agreed to a date on one condition: things didn’t get weird. Or any weirder than they already were. No flowers. No dressing up. No fancy dinners. That wasn’t them, it wasn’t who they were. Things like that upped the odds that things between them would be strained and...get weird. Things like that screamed expectations! The last thing she needed right now was to get her hopes up about anything. Especially when it came to Zane Phillips.
It was logical to put one and one together and expect two. It would be too easy to think that his willingness to downsize a marriage proposal to a first date, rather than getting mad and not speaking to her, might mean that Zane hadn’t ruled out the possibility that he could love her. At least he was trying. He hadn’t given up on her.
There she was, getting her hopes up. In this case, her better judgment warned that one plus one was more likely to add up to expectations. She always had hated math.
They were going downtown to get ice cream and take a walk. It would be simple and informal. Unpretentious. They could be themselves and just be.
Freshly showered, Lucy had blown out her hair and brushed some Moroccan argan oil through her brown locks to make them glisten. She’d kept her makeup to a minimum, just enough to make her look polished and put together—like she’d made an effort. Making an effort didn’t mean she was making more out of this than she should. Nope. Absolutely no expectations here, she thought as she returned the lip-gloss wand to the container and gave herself a once-over in the mirror. In fact, she was doing this for herself because it made her feel good and everyone knew feeling good was the best armor a woman could wear.
As she stood in front of her closet, surveying its contents, her phone dinged, alerting her to a text. It wasn’t Zane’s text tone, but she took a look anyway. It was from Chelsea, her sister-in-law-to-be.
If you don’t have plans this afternoon, do you want to go look at wedding shoes with me?
Chelsea and Ethan were getting married in a couple of weeks. The ceremony and reception were going to be at the Campbell Wedding Barn. Chelsea, who had relocated to Celebration, Texas, from London, was a real-life British noblewoman who had gone to college—or university, as Chelsea would say—with Juliette. Aside from her accent, people would never guess that Chelsea came from such a highbrow background. She was about as down-to-earth as anyone could imagine—except when it came to shoes. She had a penchant for good shoes—expensive shoes. Hence the reason the wedding was two weeks away and she had not yet found the shoes she would wear with her dress.
Lucy racked her brain for a moment, trying to figure out what to tell Chelsea about why she wasn’t available. She couldn’t say she was working, because with her luck she’d run into her downtown, or Chelsea would swing by the barn—and it wouldn’t be the truth. Why did she feel she had to lie? Why not just tell her the truth?
Lucy texted back. Next time? I told Zane I’d hang out with him this afternoon. I doubt he would enjoy shoe shopping.
Chelsea responded quickly. No prob. Tell Zane I said hello.
See, Chelsea hadn’t thought it was weird that she and Zane were getting together.
So, stop making it weird.
She was trying, but the fact remained that it shouldn’t be this hard. She knew it was fanciful, but she wanted Zane to fall in love with her—like when the prince looked at Cinderella and realized she was his one true love. Too bad she didn’t have a fairy godmother to help her out. If Dorothy was still here...what would Dorothy think of their situation?
There was no time for daydreams. He would be there soon and she needed to finish getting ready.
Before she chose a dress, she streamed “Somethin’ Stupid,” because making fun of herself was the best way to stop taking herself so seriously. She reframed her focus and selected a feminine yellow print sundress from her closet and a pair of cute cowboy boots to go with it.
The dress was fun and flirty and made her feel girlie. She debated whether or not to curl her hair, and even went as far as firing up her curling iron, but in the end she opted for pulling it back into a ponytail. Curls would look as if she was trying too hard. She probably was, but Zane didn’t need to know that. He just needed to be captivated by the finished look.
It ended up being a good thing that she’d opted for the ponytail, because a knock sounded at her front door. She glanced at her watch.
Right on time.
She pulled the boots on and made herself slow down and take her time getting to the door, when what she really wanted to do was rush. Once she was there, she paused and took a deep breath before she turned the knob.
Zane stood on her front porch holding a...baby cradle?
* * *
“What are you doing? Come inside, quickly.” Lucy tugged his arm and nearly made him drop the cradle, which was heavier than it looked, because it was one of those solid-wood, sturdy old-fashioned pieces of furniture. The type they didn’t make anymore.
What the hell?
“Careful,” he said as he cleared the door, but not before grazing the doorjamb with one of the runners.
“Someone might see you,” Lucy said as she closed the door behind her.
“Am I not supposed to be here?” Zane asked. “I thought we had a date.”
Lucy frowned at him. “Of course you’re supposed to be here. Just not with a baby bed. That’s not exactly a typical substitution for first-date flowers.”
He set down the cradle on the living-room area rug so that it didn’t scratch her hardwood floors.
“I thought we agreed that you didn’t want me to bring you flowers.”
“I didn’t want you to bring me flowers. But that doesn’t mean I wanted a baby cradle instead. Zane, it’s too soon. How am I supposed to explain why I have baby furniture in my house? I haven’t even told my brother and Chelsea the news.”
She looked beautiful. And she’d put on a dress. For him? He was used to seeing Lucy dressed casually, in jeans or shorts. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her in a dress. But he liked it.
“You look nice,” he said.
“Thank you. But don’t change the subject, please. Where did this cradle come from?”
Zane’s gaze fell to the little bed next to him. “It was mine, and then Ian used it when he was born. My mom couldn’t bear to throw anything away. She was such a pack rat. I used to tease her about that all the time. She used to say, ‘You never know when something will come in handy.’ I found it in the attic yesterday when I was packing up her place. It’s old, but it’s in pretty good shape. Sturdy. But if you don’t want it, I can give it to the shelter in Dallas. They can always use things like this.”
Lucy’s face softened. “I do want it. Thank you. It’s just that I need to tell Ethan and Chelsea before I start setting up a nursery.” Her shoulders rose, then fell. “I hadn’t even thought about that until now.”
She puffed out her cheeks and blew out her breath. She looked nervous and small, standing there contemplating the task. He hated that she was still thinking she had to go through this alone. What did he have to do to make her see she didn’t?
“We’ll tell them together,” he said. “Whenever you’re ready.”
While Lucy appeared to be weighing the suggestion, he was formulating all the reasons she shouldn’t do this alone.
“We need to set the tone. I’m a grown woman. It’s my life, but if we act like this is something shameful, then Ethan will be upset. Really, it’s not his call to be upset.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “If you want us to tell them together, maybe we can have them over for dinner one night soon. But it’s your face Ethan will wreck when he finds out.”
The thought had crossed Zane’s mind more than once. He and Ethan had been good friends since they were kids. There was a strong possibility that Ethan might take issue with him sleeping with his little sister, but they were all adults now. He was standing by Lucy. She was right—it really wasn’t Ethan’s business to render an opinion on the situation.
Despite how Lucy might have idolized her big brother, Ethan wasn’t perfect. He’d faced his own demons. He would probably understand better than they were anticipating. Maybe they should give the guy more credit.
For a moment Zane grappled with the feeling that he had let Lucy down. That he hadn’t protected her. Maybe it would serve him right if Ethan messed up his face.
“I can handle Ethan,” he said. “Don’t worry about my face.”
She reached out and cupped his face in her palm. “But it’s such a nice face.”
Their gazes locked and this time he found himself grappling with a feeling similar to the one that had done them in that night. The sound of a thunderclap off in the distance broke the spell.
“We’d better get downtown if we are going to beat the rain,” he said.
Her hand fell and she took a step back. “I didn’t realize it was supposed to rain.”
“Just another summer shower. Are you ready to go?”
“Sure, just let me grab my purse.”
Lucy returned a minute later with her handbag, but the rain was already starting to fall in fat drops, which were pinging on the front windows and splattering on the porch.
“It’s really coming down out there,” she said.
She set her small leather purse on the table in the hallway and opened the door. The rain was blowing so hard it was slanting sideways. She turned back to him. “Do you really want to go out in this?”
He shrugged. “Not particularly, but I will if you want to.”
She shook her head.
“What’s the matter, sugar?” he teased. “You afraid you’ll melt?”
She raised her right brow at the comment. “Something like that, because you know I’m so sweet. But don’t call me sugar, honey.”
He laughed. He loved her sass and the way she could poke fun at herself. He loved the way they bantered. He’d never had that with anyone else. He just wished he could love her the way she deserved to be loved. He didn’t need to get ice cream and walk around downtown to know that Lucy Campbell was a good catch for the right man.
“I have an idea,” she said. “I have some Rocky Road in the freezer. Let’s improvise and eat our ice cream on the porch and listen to the rain. We can sit on the swing. How does that sound?”
It sounded fabulous. Actually, given the choice, he would choose the sanctuary of the rain and the porch swing and Lucy over the curious glances they were bound to get as they ate ice cream as they strolled around downtown together.
Five minutes later, they were seated on the swing with bowls of Rocky Road. She’d taken off her boots and he noticed that her toenails were painted a pale shade of pink. The rain nipped at their feet as they gently swung back and forth and enjoyed the refreshing treat. It hit the spot and took the edge off the humidity, which had been elevated by the sudden summer storm. It was cozy sitting there with her. The white wicker swing, with its cushioned cover and decorative pillows, was just big enough for the two of them, forcing them to sit a little closer than they might have if they had more room. It was nice.
He liked the feel of their thighs touching. He could smell her perfume—something light and floral that tempted him to move in a little closer. So he distracted himself by focusing on the view of the barn about fifty yards away, the gravel road that led to the house where he’d grown up and the fenced-off pastureland beyond that.
Lucy hadn’t grown up in this house—her grandparents had lived here. She’d spent a lot of time here and in the barn that was now her business, and she’d inherited the land after her parents’ death several years ago. Ethan and their brother, Jude, had inherited equally valued parcels of land. Ethan’s was smaller but had the stables from which he ran his horse-breeding business. Several decades ago, his family’s ranch had been one of the most successful in the area, but they’d run into financial hardship when alcoholism had gotten the best of Donovan Campbell. For a while it appeared that Ethan might fall down the same slippery slope after his parents’ death and the end of his first marriage, but after some soul searching, he had pulled himself up from rock bottom and had set the Triple C Ranch back on the road to profitability.
He was not only a friend but was also an inspiration to Zane, who understood the heartbreak of failed marriage and disappointment of broken dreams. Zane looked up to Ethan, who had managed to not just come out the other side but had emerged on top of life, with his pending marriage and his thriving business.
Lucy had done well for herself, too—after some initial time spent finding herself, she now had the world by the tail. Zane stole a glance at her sitting next to him, looking pretty in her yellow dress.
She loved him. She could have any man she wanted and certainly deserved better than him. But she loved him.
* * *
“I’m so happy you could come for dinner tonight,” Lucy said to Ethan and Chelsea. “I know it was short notice, but we wanted to cook for you before you get swept away by the wedding. Chels, did you find your shoes yet?”
Chelsea and Ethan stood in Lucy’s kitchen, enjoying cheese and crackers that Lucy had set out as an appetizer, as Lucy took the chicken marsala that they were having for dinner out of the oven.
“Actually, I found two pairs. When you have a moment, will you give me your expert opinion as to which you think will work best with the dress? I thought I’d bring both with me when I go in for my final fitting and try them on with the dress.”
“Absolutely. I’m sorry I haven’t been a very good bridesmaid lately and I know Juliette has been out of town a lot on business. I’ve been so busy with work lately, too,” Lucy said. “I feel like we’ve left you to your own devices. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Chelsea said. Her British accent sounded crisp and made everything she said sound posh. “You’ve been fine. No, not just fine. You’ve been wonderful. Especially considering you’ve been under the weather so much lately, too. I hope you’re not spreading yourself too thin.”
Lucy’s stomach lurched. She wouldn’t allow her gaze to slant to Zane, who was sitting at the table, having a beer and a completely different conversation with Ethan. Ethan, who’d been sober now for more than three years, was drinking iced tea.
If she looked at Zane, perceptive Chelsea would surely twig that something was up. In fact, she might see right through her and guess why she and Zane had asked her and Ethan to dinner before they’d even had the chance to tell them. Actually, she was surprised Chelsea and Ethan hadn’t questioned the invitation in the first place. It wasn’t as if she and Zane were in the habit of hosting dinner parties together.
However, if it came up before they were ready to share the news, they’d planned a plausible excuse: as attendants in their wedding, they wanted to spend some time with them before everything got too hectic.
And that was true. But it wasn’t the only reason they’d invited them over.
The plan was that they would get through dinner and Zane would break out a bottle of champagne—and sparkling cider for Ethan and Lucy—to have with dessert. They’d toast the upcoming nuptials and their own good news. Lucy hoped Chelsea wouldn’t pick up on Lucy not drinking wine with dinner.
They’d considered waiting until after Ethan and Chelsea had gotten back from their honeymoon to break the news, because they didn’t want to upstage the wedding, but Lucy couldn’t take a chance of something slipping. It was best to be direct and set the tone.
She knew that; and everything was going according to the plan, but she was still nervous.
“You’re sweet to worry about me, Chelsea, but I’m fine.”
Chelsea helped her transport the food to the table in the dining room and they enjoyed some laughs and good conversation over a lovely dinner. As everyone finished their entrées, Lucy grew nervous. But finally, it was time for dessert.
“Zane, will you help me in the kitchen?” Lucy asked.
Chelsea started to stand. “Why don’t you stay here and talk to Ethan? I can help you, Lucy.”
Chelsea came from a family with a lot of money, and in their posh English estates they probably had a fleet of servants the likes of one might see on Downton Abbey. While her offer to help was sincere, living like a commoner—clearing the table and waiting on Ethan hand and foot—was still a novelty to her. If Lucy hadn’t been so nervous, she might have laughed silently to herself at the thought of how fast that novelty would wear off once Chelsea was married.
“Oh, Chels, I do appreciate your offer. However, Zane brought the dessert—it’s one of Mrs. Anthony’s Black Forest cakes. You know she can never resist the opportunity to bake for him. She brings him goodies at least once a month. This month’s offering just happened to come at the perfect time for our dinner party. But I will let him do the honors of serving it.”
Zane was already on his feet and standing beside Lucy before Chelsea could insist, and the two of them disappeared into the kitchen.
Once they were out of earshot, Lucy asked, “Are you ready for this?”
“I am,” he said. “But you look like you’re ready to swallow your tongue, you look so nervous.”
Lucy shrugged and took four champagne flutes down from one of the kitchen cabinets. Zane’s eyebrows arched. “Four? You’re not imbibing, are you?”
Lucy shook her head. “I will pour Ethan and myself a glass of sparkling cider, since he won’t be drinking, either. I figured it would look very fishy if I walked in with only two glasses.”
Zane nodded. “Are you still sure you don’t want me to do the talking?”
For a moment, Lucy actually considered it. She obviously looked as nervous as she felt. Maybe it would be a good idea to let Zane take the lead, but then again, she knew what she wanted to say. She would probably be the better of the two of them at keeping the announcement light but to the point.
She shook her head. “No—thanks, though. I’ve got this. But you can pour yourself and Chelsea a glass of champagne while I open the sparkling cider. And then would you please take the cake into the dining room. I set out some dessert plates on the buffet behind the table.”
Zane did as she asked, and before he left the kitchen, he leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the lips. It startled her and a little gasp escaped before she could help herself.
“What was that for?” she asked.
“It was for good luck. Even though we won’t need it. We got this. Remember what you kept saying to me—we set the tone. We are not two sixteen-year-olds who are in trouble.”
She wanted to ask him why it felt like they were, but she could still feel his kiss—quick as it was—on her lips, and it had bolstered her. It calmed her nerves.
“Right,” she said. “We set the tone.”
He nodded, one resolute nod, then he flashed that charismatic smile of his that had always made her feel weak in the knees, before he and the cake disappeared from the kitchen. With that, and with the phantom feel of his kiss still on her lips, she knew everything was going to be okay. Eventually.
When all the glasses were full and resting on the tray, the cider appeared to be the same light amber color as the bubbly. Unless her brother or Chelsea took a drink from her flute, they would never be the wiser that she wasn’t drinking champagne. Of course, they would know soon enough, but at least Lucy would be able to settle in and gather her wits before she broke the news.
“Okay, it’s now or never,” she whispered to herself. Actually, never wasn’t an option. She picked up the tray and carried it into the dining room.
“What’s this?” Chelsea asked.
“I thought the occasion called for a toast. I have sparkling apple juice for you, my dear brother. And champagne for you, my sweet sister-in-law-to-be.” She set the respective flutes in front of each of them and placed one with champagne at Zane’s place setting. He served the cake.
“This looks delicious,” said Ethan.
“I’m sure Mrs. Anthony made it with an extra dose of love,” Lucy teased. Zane waggled his brows as he set the last plate at his place and took a seat.
Lucy and Zane exchanged one last fortifying glance before they lifted their glasses and he said, “A toast to you and your upcoming wedding.” They all leaned in and clinked glasses.
Then Lucy said, “And a toast to Zane and me and baby makes three.”
Lucy flashed her most brilliant smile as she and Zane clinked champagne flutes, but Chelsea and Ethan sat there with raised glasses and confused looks on their faces.
“What did you just say?” Ethan asked.
Lucy laughed as if she had just shared the news that she had won the megaball lotto jackpot. “I said that we’re having a baby. Isn’t that wonderful? We are so excited.”
Okay, maybe that was stretching it a little bit—actually, they were petrified—but no one needed to know any different.
The silence was deafening, but finally Chelsea broke the ice.
“Really? Congratulations! I didn’t even realize you two were dating. Then again, everyone knows you’re crazy about each other. I mean, it’s been obvious to me since the moment I first saw you together.”
Chelsea shrugged and raised her champagne flute for another go at the toast. Lucy and Zane clinked their glasses to hers, but Ethan sat stock-still, staring at his hands.
“It was that obvious that we’re crazy for each other?” Zane asked.
A bubble of nervous laughter escaped Lucy’s throat like a hiccup. What was he doing, pretending to be besotted? Probably just trying to lighten the mood—and be convincing. Maybe he was still thinking about the quip she’d made about Ethan messing up his face.
Of course, there were different kinds of “crazy for each other.” Their particular brand was that they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Or at least they couldn’t help themselves that night. And she could’ve sworn the other night, when their date had been spontaneously moved to the front porch, that if she’d just leaned in the slightest way, Zane would’ve kissed her.
But maybe that was just a by-product of the good-luck peck on the lips he’d given her in the kitchen... Or wishful thinking.
She hadn’t leaned and he hadn’t kissed her the other night. But he’d kissed her just a few minutes ago.
“What are your plans?” Ethan finally spoke and he didn’t sound happy. “What does this mean?”
Zane lifted his chin and stared Ethan squarely in the eyes. “What it means is that Lucy and I are going to have a baby.”