Lizzie collapsed in the nearest chair, her breath escaping in a rush. Well that hadn’t gone as planned. She hadn’t expected Michael to be overjoyed by the pregnancy, but she hadn’t expected him to try and back out. He’d always been a stand-up guy who took responsibility for his actions. Heck, he took the blame for stunts she had done. He might have been with her, but he always stepped up and took his share and more of the penance. No matter how hard she tried to stop him.

She rubbed her forehead, a headache forming. When she decided to move out here and open her own shop she hadn’t been pregnant. Nor had she expected to see Michael during her scouting. They’d bumped into each other in a restaurant down the street called Demarco’s. Which possibly served the best food in the world. Then they’d spent her last three days in bed.

A tingle rose up her spine in memory of that incredible weekend. Hot, heavy and the best sex of her life. She’d done things with him she’d never dreamed of doing. Given his experience with women it shouldn’t have surprised her. But, it had been more than sex. Not just because they’d conceived a child, but because they reached a level of intimacy never achieved by either of them. He could deny it all he wanted, but something sparked between them that weekend. Something stronger than sex. She’d seen it in his eyes, felt it every time he touched her.

But, a fool she was not. Michael played the field, he didn’t settle down. He’d had a restless spirit for as long as she’d known him. Hence, the perfect troublemaking mate for her own rebellious soul. Having your future mapped out for you from the day you were born wasn’t an easy pill to swallow.

Lizzie rubbed a hand over her belly, her nerves calming. The Lawson women before her may have written her future but none of them could have prepared her for this.

Truth be told, she was terrified to be a mother. She’d been a hell raiser growing up. Put her parents through so many heartaches she couldn’t believe they still trusted the future of Lizzie’s Sweet Shop to her. They hadn’t been happy when she told them she wanted to open a new shop in California, but they supported her. Always had. Even with all she put them through.

Deep down she knew the real reason she chose California. She just hadn’t been able to admit that she’d been half in love with Michael Kreegan from the first time she caught him diving off her family’s dock.

What girl wouldn’t fall head over heels for his sparkling ocean blue eyes, his drool-worthy body and devil-may-care grin? Now that he’d joined the Navy he had even more hard-packed muscle.

Unfortunately, all the muscle and hotness didn’t make a good father. Add to that Michael’s adoration for women and need for action and you had a recipe for disaster. Not a family.

Leaning her head back she closed her eyes and let the scents and silence of her shop relax her. As a child she’d always loved the cozy feel of her mom’s shop. She would sit there for hours watching her mom make the Lawson lady’s secret recipe chocolate. No matter how much the prospect of having her own shop petrified her, the process enamored her. Her mother’s patience and care as she mixed just the right ingredients with a gently, knowing hand.

Branching out on her own still terrified her. She was miles away from her family and the only person she knew here happened to be the father of her child. And he’d run out of here like his combat boots were on fire.

Let him run. She’d given him what she owed him by telling him about the baby. The fact he’d handled it like a jerk didn’t matter.

She huffed out a breath. Okay, so it mattered. And hurt. The fantasies she’d had of telling him didn’t end in him doubting her and running away. They hadn’t ended in a marriage proposal either, but come on. He could have asked how she was doing.

Suck it up, Lawson. She’d never been the fairy tale, ride off into the sunset with a knight in shining armor kind of girl.

And she wasn’t starting now.

Lizzie scowled and pushed to her feet. Pregnancy had scrambled her brains. She didn’t want to be rescued, never had.

Rubbing both hands over her round belly she said, “We can do this on our own, can’t we, little one?”

A little kick beneath her palm. She smiled. “Happy we’re in agreement.” Feeling better, she walked to the front door and locked it. As she looked outside at the quiet street she murmured, “Yeah, we got this.”

Mike shoved his hands in his pockets, long strides taking him to his motorcycle parked down the block. The buzzing in his ears had yet to stop. No amount of SEAL training could have prepared him for Lizzie’s surprise.

A baby.

His baby.

The words echoed through his head as he swung a leg over the bike. How could he be a father? He wasn’t dad material. He hadn’t had a father to show him how to be one. The only thing he knew about parenting was to not become one.

He kicked up the stand and brought the engine to life. The Ducati hummed beneath him, energizing his blood. He’d chosen the sport bike over a Harley for its speed and handling.

Gunning the motor, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure no cars were coming, then burst into the street. Instead of heading for his apartment he turned off main street toward the coast. Night rides along the coast helped clear his head. Right now, he really needed to free his thoughts.

His headlight bounced off the safety rail as he leaned into a curve, taking it faster than deemed safe. He’d ridden these hills for fourteen years and knew them like the back of his hand.

Before he knew it he had arrived at Jace’s bungalow. After turning off the bike he climbed off and strode to the front door. It opened at the same moment he lifted his hand to knock.

Jace stared down at him, brows raised in confusion. “Date over already?”

“Before it even started,” Mike said. “Up for some company?”

“Yeah, sure, man. Come in.”

Mike walked in, glancing around the messy bachelor pad. Open, half-eaten pizza boxes, empty beer cans, clothes scattered where discarded.

“Sorry about the mess,” Jace said, making no move to clean it up. “Wasn’t expecting company. Want a beer?”

“Hell, yes.” He dropped down in one of the recliners, tossing aside a used t-shirt. A rerun football game played on the flat screen mounted on the wall.

Jace returned from the kitchen, two longnecks in his hand. He handed one to Mike and sat on the sofa. “As you can see, you aren’t interrupting anything.”

Jace refused to use his SEAL status to get laid. And with his baby-face and shyness toward women he didn’t get lucky often.

“What’s going on?” Jace asked.

Mike took a swig of the beer, letting it wash the dryness from his mouth. “I screwed up.”

Jace waited in silence.

“Remember the woman I told you about from my childhood?”

“Lizzie Lawless.”

He couldn’t help but grin at that. Lizzie never liked the nickname she’d earned. “Yeah. Well, she showed up in California eight months ago and we hooked up.”

Casting a glance his buddy he wasn’t surprised to find a lecherous grin on his face. Taking another long swig, he continued. “The shop I went into tonight—Lizzie’s Sweet Shop—is hers. She’s the woman I met tonight. Things didn’t go like I’d expected. She…” Damn, he couldn’t even say it.

Jace saved him from having to. “She’s pregnant.”

Mike leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Yep.”

All kidding aside now. “It’s yours?”

Remembering Lizzie’s reaction when he asked that same question he nodded.

“Are you going to get a paternity test?”

He stared at the floor. The thought never crossed his mind. He’d known by asking Lizzie directly about the father she wouldn’t lie. She never had been able to. Her emotions showed on her face and in her eyes. It was part of the reason she always ended up busted for her pranks. The other part was because of her stubborn nature and not being able to know when to stay quiet so he could take the heat. Everyone back home knew him as a troublemaker which made it easy to take the blame for things Lizzie had dragged him into. Ah, hell, he’d gone willingly.

“No.” He had no doubt who had fathered Lizzie’s baby. Images of Lizzie in the shower, him joining her because he couldn’t keep his hands off her, and mind-blowing sex without a condom. They’d run out and he’d been planning on going out to buy more when he saw her naked and gorgeous, head thrown back as she lathered up. All his common sense had headed south as he’d stripped down and climbed in with her.

“Is that a wise decision?”

He knew Jace wasn’t asking to be a jerk, but it pissed Mike off anyway. “It’s mine,” he said through gritted teeth. He tipped his bottle up. “Got another one?”

Jace set his half-empty bottle on the coffee table and rose to his feet. Relieved he let it go, Mike leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead. When Jace handed him a fresh beer he took a long swig. “Didn’t mean to be a dick.”

Jace shrugged it off. “What are you going to do?”

“Damn good question.” Turning his attention to the game he watched absently, deep in thought. He would do right by Lizzie and their baby. That was a given. What that meant he didn’t know. He didn’t love her. She didn’t love him. They’d hooked up, messed up, and were now bringing a child into the world.

Mike scrubbed a hand down his face. His world was chaos. As a SEAL he spent most of his time training or out of country in places he couldn’t talk about doing things that were classified. Women didn’t understand the demands of being a SEAL. How could they when he couldn’t talk about it? How could he raise a child in that kind of environment?

Like he knew anything about raising a child.

“You should connect her with Reganne. She’s going to need a pediatrician,” Jace suggested.

Reganne McCain had married their SEAL buddy, Grey Stone, over Thanksgiving. A talented pediatrician who they’d met through Jack’s wife, Darci—now only a couple months from her due date. Down to earth and friendly, he could see why Reganne fit in so well with the group. She had recommended an obstetrician for Darci, maybe she could recommend one for Lizzie since she didn’t know anyone out here yet.

“I’ll give her a call,” he said, feeling a little less powerless. Give him mission directives and he was good to go. Tell him he would soon be a father and he was lost.

Wanting to change the subject he asked, “Mind if I crash on your couch for the night?”