We had two days until the wedding, and that was being generous.

Two days to schedule the ceremony and reception around a funeral, but at least we could post the little flags on the cars and convoy to the party in mass.

After a full day of last-minute details—buying shoes, setting salon appointments, securing decorations, and soliciting the help of anyone with the last name Prescott who wasn’t actively mourning—I couldn’t move anymore.

Slipping away for an hour to go to a doctor’s appointment was like escaping a POW camp, and the only rest I had during the day was that first instant my feet hit the stirrups.

I saw the baby for the first time.

That little spec of static with the wub-dubbing heartbeat made it the best day of my life.

I still had the picture in my pocket, completely secret. I didn’t even call Rick and tell him my blip of a baby was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

I didn’t want to share it with Rick. I wanted to share the moment with Nate…and I was too afraid to pick up the phone and call.

Now my feet ached. My head hurt. My stomach couldn’t heave anymore.

For the first time, pregnancy kicked my butt, and the only thing I wanted was a soft blanket, a bowl of strawberry ice cream, and Nate. I successfully wrapped myself in the blanket, but I was too exhausted to move. The ice cream was a fading fantasy.

And Nate?

Oh Lord.

He would have tasted better than any dessert.

It was only two more days of the secret, and then I could tell him everything…including the other words I might say. Something as scary as the pregnancy beat my heart a little faster, but it was just as amazing and exciting and risky.

I didn’t dare admit it to myself, but every time I saw Nate, every time he touched me or smiled at me or whispered those naughty words to get me into bed, I stumbled that much deeper into my little pit of mistakes.

First, I had to tell him about the baby.

Then, if there wasn’t a Nate shaped hole smacked through my wall and a father-to-be sprinting to the west coast, I’d reveal the real truth—why I was so afraid.

I could handle the pregnancy myself.

But I couldn’t lose him.

My phone vibrated. I groaned, tempted to throw the damn thing against the wall. But I recognized the caterer’s number. I had to take the call.

“Hey Mandy, it’s Jeff.” The caterer talked quick. “Got some good news. We can do your order for Saturday.”

Thank God. And it only took a budget twice what we anticipated.

“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that,” I said. “And you can bring extra tables and chairs?”

“Absolutely. We’ll take care of the set up too if you get us into the venue ahead of time.”

“Is it wrong to say I love you?”

“My wife probably wouldn’t like it—”

“Well, she’s a damned lucky lady.” I rubbed my eyes. “Okay, so that’s dinner for two fifty, the tables, the chairs, the cutlery, the paper products.”

“That’s right. Two hundred and fifty vegetarian dinners—a wild mushroom polenta with a porcini sauce or grilled vegetables with green goddess dressing and a Greek salad.”

I sucked in a breath. Oh, just when I thought I was getting ahead, life had to kick me into the dirt.

“Vegetarian dinners?” I hated to ask the question. “Do you have…non-vegetarian options?”

“Well…no. The bride requested vegetarian selections.”

“For herself,” I said. “Lindsey’s the vegetarian. Everyone else is a straight-up carnivore.”

“Oh.”

“Oh no.”

“Well, we can’t change our options now. Unfortunately, there’s too little time to buy and prep the ingredients for a new menu…” He cleared his throat. “If you cancel…we’d have to keep the deposit.”

Damn. What was worse? No food at the wedding…or no meat? Without meat, my family would assume there was no food. But we had to serve something.

“No,” I said. “We’ll take it. Same plan. We’ll think of something.”

I sorted out the details and hung up. That added a fifteenth item to my to-do list, and probably meant I had no time to sleep tonight. I rolled off the couch, got sick, and rushed to the bathroom.

I didn’t make it to the toilet, but the bathtub worked. I hardly had the energy to sit up, but I did have the motivation to cry. The first blubbering tears stole my breath. Frustration smacked me over the head.

This wasn’t fair.

I had no idea how to do this on my own anymore—and it wasn’t just the wedding scaring the bejesus out of me. I hauled myself to my feet and brushed my teeth. It helped, but only a little.

The stress was too much.

Even if I didn’t tell him about the baby, Nate had said he wanted to help. He promised he’d be there for me.

He said he wanted me.

So maybe he’d help me now?

Why was I so terrified to dial his number? My lip trembled before he answered. I sniffled as the call connected, and as soon as I heard his voice, I whimpered.

Nate laughed.

“That’s a great Lindsey impression,” he said. “Sounds real.”

I had a bad habit when I cried—I forgot to breathe, some sort of subconscious attempt to not actually make a sound. It never worked. Inevitably I’d huffed some choked gasp that sounded like a cross between a gasp and a sick, orgasmic ostrich.

It wasn’t sexy, and it wasn’t quiet.

Nate stopped laughing. “Oh, damn. You’re really upset. What’s wrong? Bryce didn’t get cold feet again did he?”

Warning bells clanged in my head. “What?”

“Shit. Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

Great. I reminded myself to add note sixteen to the to-do list—chase down the groom. He used to be a linebacker. That wouldn’t be easy.

I choked up again.

“Mandy, what’s wrong?”

Everything.

Where to start? I couldn’t breathe, and the damn tears frustrated me more. I put the phone down to grunt out the breath lost in my chest. It did nothing. I coughed it out, more humiliated that I called Nate and could only cry.

The words came, but not in the right order.

“It’s all mushrooms!”

Tears rolled over my cheeks. Something told me the baby wouldn’t like mushrooms. The wedding would be ruined, my family destroyed, the baby would hate everything I tried to feed it, and I’d be the world’s worst Maid of Honor and mother because I didn’t check on the meat.

“What’s all mushrooms?” Nate talked slowly. “You gotta give me a little bit more.”

“Dinner. The wedding. All vegetarian. We all have to eat mushrooms.”

“Oh…I don’t like mushrooms.”

He sliced the final cut straight through my heart. I collapsed onto the floor.

“Hey, fine. I’ll eat mushrooms. Before, during, or after the wedding. As many as you want. I promise. Just tell me what the hell is happening.”

“The caterers are making vegetarian-only meals.”

“Why?”

“Lindsey scared them! She ordered her dinner and said she’d rather skin them alive for getting the dinner wrong than hurt one chicken.”

“Sounds about right.”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to get my nails done and put up the decorations and help the caterers and organize the string quartet and hire the other DJ…” The tears came back. “I haven’t even learned how to nae nae.”

“How to what?”

“Mom’s dress isn’t done—she wants to wear that red hoochie-momma outfit, and Lindsey is flipping out. Dad doesn’t have the money right now to pay half the people we need to pay. There’s no cake—we’re ordering cupcakes from this place called Sweet Nibbles, but we’re probably going to have to bake cookies too—”

“Mandy, take a breath.”

“Half the family is ecstatic they can do the funeral and wedding in the same weekend, but my cousins are pissed because they said it's disrespectful, but that’s only because they’ve always wanted Great Aunt Mildred’s jewelry collection, and Lindsey had already asked to wear the rings and necklace for the wedding—”

“Mandy.”

“I haven’t eaten all day. My dress doesn’t fit right. Mom and Dad are fighting again—they can’t even be in the same room. We terrified your dad today. Again. We wanted to make sure the ceremony was good to go, and some very blasphemous things were said when my dad suggested Lindsey and Bryce get some counseling after the wedding to help the marriage…”

“It’s okay. What else?”

Why did it feel so good to tell him all this? I sniffled. I think I ranted everything. I pouted.

“My socks are on the wrong feet.”

“How do you know?”

“I can tell.”

“Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen.” Nate’s voice became to a gentle command. “You lay down and take a nap.”

“What? I can’t!”

“I’ll be over in two hours. You relax until then, try to stay calm, and we’re going to solve the problems one at a time…starting with the wedding food. Okay?”

Nate was gifted in bed, but he wasn’t a miracle worker outside my panties. “O—okay.”

“I’ll see you in a bit.”

The call ended.

I should have slept. Instead I sprung into a frantic, pulse-pounding scattershot effort to shove as many blankets, bras, books, boxes, and empty water bottles into my closet as I could, in lieu of cleaning.

I tossed the unscrubbed pot soaking in the sink into the oven before rushing to the laundry basket to find something that looked remotely casual. My favorite pair of jeans suddenly fit a lot differently, and I didn’t even want to consider those consequences. A pair of yoga pants worked though.

I tucked into a comfy t-shirt and pretended like I could face the most gorgeous man in the world armed with only a tube of strawberry scented lip balm and a ponytail.

An hour and a half later, Nate knocked at the door. I nearly forgot to tuck the sonogram picture into the deepest pocket of my purse.

I took no chances. I hid the purse and the picture in the closet with all the other unmentionables.

I answered the door to a pile of three boxes. Nate slid a fourth down the hall. I peeked inside.

Lettuce? Tomatoes? He bought three bags of cheddar cheese the size of my head and a tub of sour cream I could swim in…

…And if Lindsey saw the thirty pounds of ground meat he hauled onto my counter, she’d personally brand both of our behinds.

“What are you doing?” I stared as Nate unloaded sleeve upon sleeve of hard taco shells. “Tell me you didn’t rob Mexico.”

“I have a friend who works at a restaurant depot. One of those stores that sell in bulk directly to commercial kitchens. He hooked me up.”

“With…a walking heart attack?”

Nate’s mischievous grin turned proud. “Taco bar, baby! Everyone loves tacos. As long as the vegetarian dishes aren’t too horrible, we can work this out.”

He was a genius.

A goddamned genius.

My apartment wasn’t large enough for any real culinary magic, but Nate made it work. I texted Lindsey to tell her not to worry about the caterers—which, in turn, made her freak about the caterers—then silenced the phone. Nate rummaged through my kitchen as if he had always belonged there. He twirled a frying pan by the handle and winked at me.

“We cook the meat up now, prep the veggies, and I’ll store it in the fridge at the pub. Then we’ll deliver it on Saturday to the wedding. Ask the caterers to bring extra warming dishes, and we’re set.”

“I can’t thank you enough for this.”

“Oh…I don’t know about that. Sit there and think of all the naughty ways you might repay me.”

I didn’t trust his smile, but it warmed me up like I sat on the burner. He pre-warmed the pan for the ground meat and rummaged through my drawers for a spatula.

“You can cook?” I asked.

“Cook. Brew. Bake. I’m a one-man kitchen machine.”

“That’s good to know.”

His arms tensed as he hauled the meat to the counter. His muscles flexed, and I wanted nothing more than to touch his ink. “Why’s that?”

“Because now I know you can make me dinner.”

“Anytime you want, baby.”

He was serious. My heart thudded a bit too hard. I turned to distract myself with the veggies and other prep work, but Nate thought ahead. He bought shredded lettuce and refried beans, taco sauce, shells. Everything we needed.

It shouldn’t have surprised me that Nate would have done everything in his power to help me.

But it did.

And it meant so much more to me than he realized. Maybe it was time for him to know it.

“Nate…” I had no idea what to say that didn’t sound idiotic. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

“You asked me for help.”

“I probably overstepped my bounds—”

“If you ask me for help…I’ll help. Anytime, baby.” His smile faded, but his voice warmed. “And I like that you asked me.”

“I liked that you came.”

He grinned, “You always do.”

I smacked his arm. “You know what I mean.”

My fingers teased over his shoulder and bicep. He tensed under my touch, but it was a good tense. A shiver rolled from me into him. Every instinct screamed at me to pull away, apologize, and hide behind the box of dozens of tomatoes for chopping. Instead, I traced the ink on his arm.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I said. “I feel…calmer now.”

“As soon as I’m done, I’ll make sure you’re very relaxed.”

I smirked. “Oh, I see how it is. This project isn’t from the goodness of your heart. You want something in return.”

Nate winked. “Baby, you don’t have to bribe me with tacos to sex you up.”

“Sex me up?”

“Well, either I sex you up or I go down…lady’s choice.”

“How magnanimous.”

Nate gave the pan a shake. “One thing about me you might not know…I’m a giver. I live to serve.”

I laughed. “Your reputation begs to differ.”

“And your experiences?”

I bit my lip. “Those are a different story.”

“Until you, I hadn’t found a woman who deserved my undivided attention.”

“What’s so special about me that I get that honor?”

“Because you’re so goddamned beautiful I can’t help staring at you.” He graced me with another sidelong glance that lingered over my curves. “Say the word, and I’m fucking yours baby. I’ve got twenty-five pounds of ground beef in that cooler to prove it.”

My heart beat too fast to hear over the rushing blood coursing through my body. I swallowed. Nate didn’t expect me to answer. His sweet smile soothed the raging blitz of emotions and hormones that stole my voice.

I had no idea what to say. I knew which words he wanted to hear.

And those were the ones I couldn’t say yet.

Not if I kept the secret.

Nate nudged me to prep the ingredients, and I helped to organize once we cooked the meat and chopped the onions and diced the tomatoes. I shoved as much as I could in the fridge. It took a few hours, but we prepared everything and stashed it away without me combusting from standing too near the stove or straying too near the man who owned my heart, my body, and was slowly wearing down the only defense I had against him.

He turned off the light over the stove and stared at me.

“All done.” His voice was a low, gravelly rumble. It hummed through me, and I couldn’t breathe. “The wedding is saved.”

“I…I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Yes, you do.” He leaned in, but he didn’t kiss me. “I should get going. Need a shower to get all the grease off me.”

I licked my lips. “You could shower here.”

“Only if I get some company.”

The thought thrilled me. I bit my lip and took his hand, tugging him towards the bathroom. He grinned.

“Mandy, you don’t have to. I was joking about the tacos.”

“I’m not joking about this.” I pulled him closer. His eyes burned so bright and beautiful it was amazing I hadn’t surrendered to him before. “Nate, I can’t tell you how I feel yet…but I can show you how much you mean to me.”

“I don’t want to make it complicated.”

“It’s not anymore. It’s really, really simple.”

I wanted to be with him. I wanted to tell him every secret, every fear, every amazing possibility that came from carrying his baby.

But first I wanted to prove just how I felt about him.

In case revealing the truth destroyed everything we might have had.