Coconut cake.

Why did it have to be coconut cake?

Even the chocolate wasn’t sitting right. Or the marble. Or the carrot.

Or the water. The air. The car ride to the cake tasting.

Morning sickness came at all times of the day, and it didn’t mix well with the apprehension of holding the cake tasting at Nate’s pub, Arrogance. Of course he graciously volunteered his bar for a private event, opening the doors before his regular hours.

He did it to see me. He wasn’t giving up.

And I might have been flattered if it weren’t for the secret hanging over my head.

Mom wasn’t happy about being seen in a bar before nightfall, but the ivory balloons and flowers Nate used to decorate was a stroke of genius. She overlooked the dark woods, leather seats, and huge selection of specialty brews on tap because he pampered Lindsey.

For that, I supposed I could be nice too. Except I had no idea what to do while he leaned against his bar. The green-eyed miscreant offered me a seat at the counter, close to him. He wanted to sample the sweets together.

That only made the nausea worse.

My life wasn’t flashing before my eyes anymore; it was hurling into the toilet as discreetly as I could hide it without my family assuming I was pregnant. Of course, when Mom heard me at home, she patted my cheek with an encouraging good job.

At least I could please my mother with a fictitious eating disorder. God forbid we had a size-ten bridesmaid.

Curves were for roads, not strapless dresses.

But coconut didn’t have a place in my life before I got pregnant. Now it exacted some sort of tropical revenge for every disparaging remark I ever made about the nut.

Fruit?

Hellspawn.

The flakes crusting the top of the cake squeaked over my teeth. I took one bite, shuddered as the stringy flecks lodged in my throat, and tried to choke it down.

My stomach flipped.

This wasn’t good.

“What do we all think?” Mom clapped her hands. “Write it down. Come on, quickly now. We have two dozen more cake samples to go.”

Now my stomach flopped.

Twenty more pieces of cake? I couldn’t even watch Food Network this morning. Who the hell inflicted this type of torture on their family or local bakery?

Lindsey slapped my arm. “You aren’t writing anything down! I need your input! This is the most important decision for the reception!”

She’d said the same for the music, the venue, the dress…

I blinked, staring at the grid paper in front of me. The cake samples were labeled numerically, and a dozen columns stretched across the page. Each box held a specific set of criteria for judgment—decorations, flavor, color, texture, consistency, sweetness, frosting thickness, exclusivity, trendiness, melt-ability, memorability, champagne compliments, and how likely the flavor profile would match Lindsey’s chosen wedding theme, Fairytales in Heaven.

I wondered if I could add my own—how fun it’d be to smoosh in my sister’s face.

But Lindsey handed us tiny pencils without erasers, so I had to behave. Mom smacked my wrist as I tried to doodle in a score.

“Don’t hold your pencil like that, you’ll give yourself arthritis. Men don’t like gangly hands.”

This was why I typed everything, but Mom said I’d get a hunch back from the keyboard anyway. I gritted my teeth. The frustration swirled in my stomach. I stood up too fast.

“Where are you going?” Lindsey pointed her pencil at me. “Eat the damn cake, Mandy! I can’t do this without you!”

“I just…” Words nauseated me too. “Bathroom. Mark a big no for me on the coconut.”

Lindsey dropped her fork. “So that’s how it’s going to be?”

I shimmied from the table, easing as far from the reeking cake as I could manage without drawing suspicion. “I didn’t like that one.”

“So you’re completely disregarding the other eleven sections of criteria because you don’t like the flavor? We can’t ignore how perfectly this cake would match the dress! It looked heavenly!”

Bryce shrugged. “We can order the other cakes to be white and coconut, babe.”

“For the last time!” Lindsey burst into tears. “It’s ivory!”

Nate couldn’t resist making my life harder. “Wait…you actually wanted us to score this, Linds?”

He pointed me to the bathroom while Lindsey raged. I slammed the door behind me as my sister’s wail turned into a threat to shove the rest of the cakes down Nate’s throat.

Coconut tasted as bad coming up as it did going down. I did the best I could and tried to keep quiet. At least the bar’s bathrooms were surprisingly clean. I remembered Nate’s disaster of a bedroom from when we were kids. At least he grew up and started taking care of his property.

It almost gave me…hope?

Sitting punked out on a bar’s bathroom floor gave a woman a lot to think about.

This wasn’t rock bottom yet, but it wasn’t far under my tush. If I wanted to hide the pregnancy, I’d have to stop getting sick so often or come up with a better excuse. I’d only get a couple days’ mileage out of the stomach flu. After that, I’d have to be more creative. Food poisoning. Dysentery? Once I used all the illnesses I could remember from playing The Oregon Trail, maybe I’d pretend I was shooting up. My family would probably accept drug use over an unexpected, unwed pregnancy.

Especially since Nate was…not like the Prescotts or Washingtons.

If our families weren’t pleased that Nate abandoned his calling to open a microbrewery and bar, they definitely wouldn’t like that we accidentally mixed pale ale with a dark stout.

Not that Nate would take the news well either, though I didn’t think it’d matter to him what color the baby was…just that it was his.

He hadn’t stopped chasing me, and I couldn’t get his scent out of my head—that rich, hoppy masculine tease that followed him from the pub. I barely survived walking in on him, bare-chested and trying on his tuxedo. For the past two days I suffered through hormone-induced nights of alternating weeping and unrelenting horniness.

I was a mess, and his green eyes and cocky smile were equal parts dangerous and tempting. Slipping into bed with him would probably soothe my nerves, and it wasn’t like I could get more pregnant.

Right?

But it would be a mistake, and I knew it. The warmth that once centered in my core had spread, and I was afraid it’d find its way to my heart. Nate pursued me for the wrong reasons, but his words layered in sensuality and honesty, as if he actually wanted more than that one night with me.

The greatest danger in the world wasn’t falling for the wrong man—it was letting him catch me after I fell head over heels.

How long could I hide the baby from him? Nate wasn’t stupid—and I constantly underestimated the muscle-bound trouble-maker. Even he’d notice if I looked like I swallowed a basketball.

I had to tell him.

It was the right thing to do.

Really, it was the only thing I had to do. If Nate knew about the baby, he could help me prepare. More importantly, he could help me keep the secret until after the wedding.

If I survived the coconut onslaught to come.

I peeled myself off the bathroom floor before Lindsey rampaged through the door. The mirror revealed everything I tried to hide. My hair was limp. My eyes were still wide in that perpetual Oh-Dear-God-It’s-Positive shock. Maybe no one would notice?

Nate would.

He hadn’t stopped staring at me since I arrived. But…at least it made me feel beautiful.

I returned to our table. Bryce’s brother only just arrived—late, but as he was still in scrubs and transcribing his notes from the day’s cardiovascular rounds, Lindsey forgave him. This time.

Rick looked identical to his younger brother. Both men played linebacker at college though Rick focused more on his studies and went pre-med. They were both handsome, and their skin coffee dark. Bryce got more of his mom’s patience. Rick inherited his father’s uncanny ability to speak without thinking.

He took the seat next to me. “You look like hell.”

I made a face. “You smell worse.”

“I’m fresh off an eighteen hour shift.” He gobbled up his slice of cake. Mom smacked his wrist and told him to wait for his score card. “What’s your excuse?”

I casually scooped my cake onto Rick’s plate and avoided Nate’s questioning glance. “Only eighteen hours? I’ve been on bridesmaid duty for the past three months.”

“She still kicking your butt?”

“Yeah, and skinning it, tanning it, and turning it into a belt to beat me with.”

“Well, if you need to get her a new heart, I might be able to sneak one home from the hospital…” Rick frowned at the cake criteria sheet. “Linds, what the hell is this? It looks like my MCATs.”

Bryce answered for her, either to avoid conflict with his brother or to score points with the bride-to-be. She still refused to talk to him after the Spiderman cufflink situation a day ago.

“We’re judging cakes,” he said. “We want to be sure we pick the right flavor for our special day.”

Nate snorted into his beer. Lindsey heard. That wasn’t good.

“Excuse me for being methodical.” She crushed her pencil against the score card. “And I hate this one. I don’t want chocolate. It’s cliché and trite and—”

“It’s delicious.” Rick said. “Go with this one.”

Oh God, he was here for less than a minute and already he’d damn us all. I tugged on my best friend’s sleeve, but Rick always did like pissing with Lindsey.

“Take it back, take it back, take it back,” I whispered. “Eat the cake and shut up.”

“Rick, I’m looking for a little more consideration than saying it’s good,” Lindsey said.

“It’s…chocolatey.” Nate grinned.

Someone was going to die today. I peeked at Rick’s score card and copied the answers he scrawled onto the sheet. Lindsey stomped her feet.

“If you can’t take this seriously, how can I trust you’ll make my wedding a joyous fucking occasion?”

Rick apologized. “It’s just a cake. I don’t even remember what flavor mine was at my wedding.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe that’s why you’re divorced before thirty!”

Low blow.

“Me-ow,” Nate laughed.

Rick rolled with it. “Single life is feeling pretty damn good right now, huh, Nate?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Lindsey’s hands coiled at her sides. “You apologize right now or so help me God...”

I edged away from the ruckus, collecting the plates and passing out the next round with Mom. She stilled with the plate in her hand, looked at me, and gave a tiny whisper.

“Maybe a half-bite for you on the rest of these, sweetheart.” She broke a tine off the plastic fork. “We want to be able to see the bride at the altar.”

I gritted my teeth and plopped a plate in front of Bryce. He stayed quiet, simply tasting the cake with a sigh and charting his reaction to it. Lindsey squeezed his shoulder.

“I’m not over-reacting, am I?” She gripped him harder, and Bryce flinched. “Am I?”

“Of course not.” He jingled his empty bottle of beer at Nate—the third lined up before him. “Can I get another?”

“See?” My sister glared at Rick. “If you can’t handle me at my worst…”

I muttered to myself. “Then get the hell out of the wedding party.”

“What was that, Mandy?”

I smiled. “Nothing. I’m admiring your bridal boot camp. The red velvet cake is dry.”

“Write it down. Only nineteen more samples to go.”

Nate and Bryce opened their fourth beers. Lucky bastards.

It took two hours to finish, but I only needed to throw up once. Fortunately, it was right when Nate and Rick doodled something obscene on their score cards prompting Lindsey to kick them out of the wedding. They were reinstated by the time I made it back to the table, and my sister decided on a winning flavor.

She chose a three tiered castle of a cake—the bottom layer classic almond, middle a white filled with a strawberry puree, and the top a cream cheese infused fig and blueberry that Lindsey thought would look fantastic on Instagram.

Unless the whole thing was frosted in Pepto Bismol, I’d never eat another piece of cake again.

Mom gathered the leftovers from our end of the table.

“Save some for the wedding.” She snatched a plate away from me. “Honest to goodness, it’s like you don’t even care about finding a husband of your own.”

“I—”

“Mandy, why don’t you smile more?” She tisked her tongue. “You’d be prettier if you smiled like your sister.”

Every straw was the last one. I walked away before I popped an aneurysm. Somehow confronting Nate about the baby was easier than dealing with my Mom about anything.

I gathered the few beer bottles on the tables and handed them to Nate as he tidied the already pristine bar.

“Sure I can’t get you something to drink?” He grinned. “You’re taking a beating out there, and not the good kind.”

“There’s a good kind?”

I didn’t trust his wink. “Would you like a demonstration?”

“Oh, Lord. Someone ought to sit you in time-out.”

“Sometimes it’s fun being bad. You should try it.”

Oh, if he only knew how bad we were. I lowered my voice. “Think we can go somewhere and…talk?”

His smirk grew. I was sure he’d replaced the word talk with something far more exciting and rewarding. It wasn’t fair to blindside him like this. Did I have a choice?

I closed the door to his office before any frosting freak-out or cake-related calamity interrupted us. Nate offered me a seat at his desk, though I wasn’t going near the rat’s nest of receipts, notebooks, folders, files, and general disarray. It was a bookkeeper’s torture.

“So…I take it you spend most of your time brewing the beer?” I parsed through the papers.

“I’m a man of many talents.”

“Humble too.”

“Why should a man be humble? What’s in it for me?”

“Ah, and selfless.”

“You want me to start listing your faults?” he asked.

He’d never find any my mother hadn’t already discovered, cataloged, and posted on Facebook to the family.

I shrugged. “Name one.”

“You’re scared.”

“Of what?”

Those green eyes glittered with mischief. “Me.”

Technically, I wasn’t afraid of him…more like of what he made. I said nothing, daring him to elaborate with an arched eyebrow.

“You know we had something good,” he said. “Why are you so afraid of spending a second night with me?”

“Do you think it’s crazy that a woman wouldn’t want to sleep with you again?”

“It’s inconceivable.”

“Oh…I wouldn’t say that.”

“Don’t pretend you aren’t attracted to me.”

I wouldn’t even try to lie. Nate only got sexier the more I tried to avoid him. I still imagined the ripple of muscle beneath his clothes, the feel of his hands against my hips, the heat of his breath slipping down, down, down to the crest between my legs.

He wasn’t just attractive. Nate dripped testosterone. He charmed, he hunted, and he owned the naïve women who fell for the wolf behind his smile.

One word, and panties would drop. Sexts would send. Hell, whenever he walked into a room, every woman’s uterus lit up like a damn pinball machine, pinging and clinking and blinking fertilize me!

It was a miracle he hadn’t gotten any of his past girls in trouble.

Or was it my luck that my womb happened to be particularly…sticky?

“So…” I cleared my throat. “That…night we spent together?”

I had no idea what was bigger—Nate’s cock or his ego. He grinned.

“I knew you wanted another night. You don’t even have to ask, baby.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Can I get any head from you?”

“For the love of God, Nate, would you fucking listen to me?”

He laughed. “I’m teasing. You know what I want. You know I’d do it right. Why are you acting like this is such a big deal?”

“Because sex is a big deal. It comes with responsibilities and consequences…and not just for our relationship.”

Nate sighed. “Hate to break it to you, but we didn’t have a relationship. You were the neighbor kid. My best friend’s girlfriend’s little sister. We weren’t exactly giving each other power of attorney.”

“Weren’t we friends?”

“Aren’t we still?”

I shrugged. “It’s not like with me and Rick.”

Nate smirked. “Rick couldn’t make his meals or fold his own clothes after Jada left him. You stepped in. I don’t want a maid or mother. I’m looking to fool around a little.”

“Is that all?”

“You want me to ask you on a date?”

This was a mistake. Why did I think I could get it through his thick skull that I was alone and scared? I needed him to cool it for one freaking second so I could untangle my courage from my panties and admit the truth.

Coconut cake was easier than this. “Forget I said anything.”

“Whoa.” Nate didn’t let me escape the office. “Look, Mandy. You gotta take the stick out of your ass or no man is ever gonna fuck it.”

The father of my child, spreading wisdom like his seed. I nearly slapped him.

“What do you want?” Nate asked. “You want…to go on a date? Get me to talk? Want to get to know me? Fine. You name the place, I’ll pick you up.”

“Absolutely not.”

“All right. You can drive.”

“That’s not what I mean,” I said.

“You don’t think I’m interested?”

I laughed. “I think you’re interested in one thing.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Can you understand why I don’t want that?”

“No,” he said.

“Listen to me, Nate Kensington.” I took a deep breath. The nausea returned, and it wasn’t going to be pretty. “That night…when we were together?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know how to explain…what happened.”

His damn smile melted me. “It’s real easy, baby. You have a sensitive spot on your neck. I nibbled there, and you surrendered.”

“That’s not…what? No, I don’t!”

“Sure you do. Right…” He grabbed me before I could get away, and his lips pressed against the hollow between my shoulder and neck. “Here.”

Oh…my…

His words murmured over my skin, and the hum of his voice rumbled deep inside me.

My stomach twisted, but it wasn’t the morning sickness. The rough stubble on his chin tickled me, and with every brush of the roughness, my thoughts, willpower, courage, and resistance faded.

“You’re such an ass,” I whispered.

“I’m right, and you know it.”

A shiver traced over my spine. His lips pressed harder, accompanied with a little nip. Just how it happened before. I never thought I’d regret it then. I still wasn’t sure I regretted it now.

“I have something to tell you.” My words trembled as he nibbled along my neck. “And it’s…not going to be…”

“The only thing I want to hear is you moaning my name.”

I shrugged, but the movement wove him back over that sensitive spot. I nearly groaned.

I couldn’t let him seduce me again. The last time ended with a big enough surprise. I didn’t need my family walking in on this disaster.

Or my mother.

Good God.

“Nate.”

I pushed him away and sucked in a deep breath. It didn’t work. I only took in more of his masculine scent. I sat on the edge of the desk and swallowed.

This was it.

I had to tell him about the baby. Now or never. Like ripping off a band-aid—everyone said babies were always sticky, right?

The words didn’t come. I bought some time by absently flipping through the papers on his desk. The numbers on the pages didn’t make any sense. I tilted my head.

“Nate…are you…pulling a profit?”

He grimaced. “Surprised? You sound like my dad.”

“Why don’t you have a bookkeeper?”

“I take care of it on the slow days.”

I bit my lip. Some of the numbers were really good. “You’re doing very well.”

“Yeah.” He grinned, proud of something other than what swung between his legs. “The brewery took off. The bar too. Enough that I’m thinking of starting another location.”

I nodded. “In Ironfield?”

“Nah. Why stay local? I want to get away from my parents and this town. I’m thinking of heading out west.”

“West?”

“California.”

My stomach dropped, condensing two pounds of buttercream frosting and cake into a ticking time bomb. I really wished the baby didn’t hold the detonator.

“That’s…very west.”

He flipped open a menu, tapping on a couple of his premium brews. “I locally source a lot of my ingredients, and I could make more of a variety in California. I figure it’ll get me away from my family, let me hang out on the coast, get some sun. Have fun.”

“You’re serious?”

“I found a spot in Santa Barbara to check out next month. If I like it, I might put in an offer.”

“And you’d want to live out there?”

“Don’t get worried.”

“I’m not worried.”

I lied. I was terrified.

“I’ll be back for the wedding. Wouldn’t miss that—Lindsey would kill me.” He winked. “But I can’t skip out on this chance. I’ve wanted to get away and build something of my own since Arrogance took off.”

Oh God. He had plans. A whole life of pseudo-vagrancy and craftsmanship ahead of him.

He had no idea I was pregnant, never even considered it a possibility, and I had to tell him he couldn’t pursue his life’s dream?

Hell no. I wasn’t telling him about the baby now. I couldn’t.

Not yet. Not until I knew how I’d manage it.

That took time and planning, and I would have to survive until the wedding when I could finally get a clear enough head and schedule to focus on what to do.

And I still didn’t know how he’d take the news. Would he be angry? Would he get upset?

If I hadn’t figured out how to deal with it yet, how could I help him through it?

“I’m serious about the date,” he said.

I blinked. “What?”

“About taking you out. You want to be wined and dined before I take you to bed. I think I can handle that.”

I shook my head. “It’s not going to happen.”

“Mandy, I don’t chase girls.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Yeah,” Nate said, his voice low. “Me too. I don’t do this. I don’t make an idiot out of myself begging a pretty girl for her company. But there’s something about you I can’t get out of my head.”

“Nate—”

“I always thought wanting someone was painful—an ache or a throbbing need. This isn’t agony. This is pleasure. I want to see you, talk with you. I hope to God I might be able to kiss you once before you push me away.”

“We can’t.”

“I won’t ask for another night with you, not when I know I’d be back in this torture the instant you left my bed.”

He reached for me, and I let his hand graze my cheek.

It’d be so easy to say yes. He’d ease the ache inside me; take away the worry for a few minutes. We fit together so perfectly before. Maybe it would be worth it? I could test it. See if we had any hope of duct taping the fragments of this fairy tale into some sort of happily-ever-after.

But that was foolish. And dangerous. I couldn’t let myself get crushed by my crush, not when he already wielded so much power over me.

How the hell could I explain what I wanted, needed, had to deal with, confused me, ripped through me, kept me up at night, burned inside of me…

I had to get out of here.

“You’re smooth,” I said. “Very convincing.”

“It’s the truth. Not many girls get that from me.” His voice lowered. “Why don’t you start telling me the truth too?”

My heart thudded a little too hard. I would tell him the truth. Eventually. Once I figured it out for myself. But the words stuck in my throat, and nothing I did could force them out.

I shook my head. “I have to go. We’re supposed to go shoe shopping, and Lindsey wants me to wear her heels to stretch them out before the wedding—”

“At some point, you might have to tell your family no.”

I had a whole lot more to tell them, and right now yes was the easiest and caused the least trouble. I shrugged.

“Thanks for letting us use your pub.”

“You can repay me. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight.”

He was relentless. I smiled. “Don’t hold your breath.”

“The invitation’s on the table.”

“And here I thought it was in the bed.”

“There’s a variety of invitations, and you’re welcomed to take any or all of them.”

“Good to know.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Wear something sexy.”

“Garters and high heels.” I laughed. “With little tassels for my nipples.”

“It would make a statement.” He winked. “But your tits are perfect without decorations.”

“Thanks, I think.” I turned to the door but couldn’t help myself. “And thanks for what you said earlier.”

“About what?”

I swallowed. “That we’re…friends. I could use a friend right now.”

“You could use more than that.”

Probably, but for now, I needed to know I had someone in my corner, even if he didn’t know why we hid there.

My life was about to change, dramatically, overwhelmingly, and so was his. I’d protect both of us for a little while longer. Once the wedding was done and I neared my second trimester, I’d reveal the truth.

Until then? I had to guard myself from his advances.

I was already in over my head. I didn’t want to be over my heels too.