Dylan was waiting impatiently Thursday morning for Lexi to show up at Boston Beans. She was late, but he had time.

He’d been disappointed when she hadn’t called or responded to his text. After the way they’d left things, he’d been fairly sure she wasn’t going to call, but it was a let-down no matter which way he sliced it. For whatever reason, she’d taken a huge step away from him the week before.

He’d shown up anyway, ready to remedy whatever hole he’d stepped in. He’d done something, or said something, she hadn’t liked. Whatever it was, he’d fix it.

He checked his watch again. She was usually at the shop by seven in the morning. It was going on eight and she hadn’t shown yet. The people in the shop said they were still expecting her, so he’d wait it out for a while longer.

There was just something about her that he liked. Her humor, maybe. Her sense of fun or the laughter that lurked just under the surface all the time. Her sarcasm that seemed to run deep. He wasn’t sure which it was—maybe all of them, that made him want to learn more.

He straightened when a little silver car pulled up to the curb and parked in a no-parking zone. It was her, sitting in the passenger seat, a man behind the wheel. Her niece, Jenna, sat in the back. He recognized her from the pictures Lexi had shown him before.

The man threw him. The guy slid out of the car and stood to his full height. They were the same size, just over six feet, but the man had to outweigh Dylan by nearly fifty pounds. He was watchful as he got out of the car, scanning the surroundings as Lexi and her niece got out of the car.

“I was wondering if you were going to show?” Dylan said, stepping up to them.

Lexi looked completely blank as she took him in, her mouth hanging open a little. She looked different. Not just that her hair was a little curly or that her eyelashes didn’t have the same curve, but there was just something bone deep that struck him as odd.

Jenna, Lexi’s niece lit up, her face stretching into a wide smile.

“Do I know you?” Lexi asked, her eyes wide.

So, that’s how they were going to do this? Pretend the last few weeks hadn’t happened?

“I thought so,” he said. “Enough that I thought you’d at least remember me.”

“Oh, she does,” Jenna interrupted.

The man bypassed the trunk where Lexi kept her baked goods and went right to her side, his hands too familiar as they clasped onto her shoulders.

“Can we help you with something?” he asked.

“This is Dylan James,” Jenna said. “He’s a friend of Auntie Alex’s.”

Dylan cut his eyes to Lexi, her shoulders slumping with relief.

“I’m Andy,” she said with a smile, sticking her hand out to him. It was then that he noticed more subtle differences: the scar on her lip and the way her nose tilted up a little.

“She told me she had sisters,” he admitted.

“Didn’t mention the identical twin?” the man asked, his lips twitching up at the corners.

“No, she left that part out,” Dylan admitted. “Where is she?”

They looked between themselves, his radar prickling with awareness at their hesitancy.

“What?” he asked, wary.

“She’s in the hospital,” Jenna told him. “She fell down the stairs last night. Scared the life out of me.”

The man put a hand on her shoulder in support. He now had one hand on each of their shoulders: Andy and Jenna. They were his. He was sending a very clear message, and Dylan respected the hell out of the silent and subtle display.

“She’ll be fine. They’re keeping her for observation until this afternoon,” Andy told him.

“Where?” he asked, already taking out his phone, ready for the address.

Thankfully, Jenna supplied the information he needed without hesitation.

“I’ll get the things out of the trunk,” the man said before turning back to Dylan. “Owen.”

They shook hands.

“Dylan.” He followed Owen to the trunk of the car, reaching for the basket of Lexi’s baked goods. He really just wanted to jump in a cab and get his car and speed to her side, but he was taking their leisurely pace to mean her condition wasn’t life or death. Still, he felt a sudden wave of urgency in getting her things at the Bean squared away before he could go to her. “I can help get things set out. I know where she likes to put them.”

“I’ll take the picture,” Jenna supplied happily. “I’ve got access to her social media.”

Dylan eyed the girl. “I heard you were quite the advertising whiz kid.”

For her part, Jenna just shrugged as she helped put the doughnuts in the display case. “Auntie Alex hates people but still wants to sell to them. Someone had to help her.”

He thought of Alex and didn’t think she hated people. She’d been friendly enough with him, but he often felt the same. Some days, dealing with clients took more patience than he possessed.

“I offered you an internship,” he told Jenna, fudging his original offer. “But your aunt told me you were too young and I’d have to ask your parents.”

“What kind of internship?” she asked.

“Seems like you’ve got a good grasp on what people want to see and how they want to receive the message. I’m sure we could set you up with our ad guy over the summer, if that’s what you think your future holds.” Dylan looked behind the girl to her father. “And if your parents think it’s a good idea.”

Owen couldn’t be any older than Dylan was, but the idea of having a child, let alone one Jenna’s age, was nearly unfathomable.

“We’ll see,” was all Owen said, his eyes tracking Andy and Jenna.

Andy was talking to the manager of the Bean at the counter, her blue eyes, so like Alex’s, grave as she spoke. Dylan felt a slither of unease slide down his spine.

“How bad is it?” he asked Owen, his gaze unwavering on the other man. He hoped like hell his look was serious enough that Owen would tell him the truth.

“Not bad,” Owen said. “She just got lightheaded and took a spill. No broken bones. No real injuries other than bumps and bruises.”

That didn’t seem too bad. “Why the hospital stay?”

Owen stilled, as did Jenna. “You’ll have to talk to Alex about that,” Owen told him.

“She sick?” Dylan asked. She hadn’t said anything but they didn’t know each other from a hole in the wall. She could be dying, for all her knew.

And what a heartbreaking shame that would be.

“No,” Jenna said, the smile still plastered on her face.

“Jenna,” Owen warned, his voice quiet but firm.

“I know,” she said on a sigh. “Stop talking. That’s what everyone always says. I talk too much.”

“I find it endearing,” her father told her. “But, talking is one thing and breaking someone’s privacy is another.”

Okay, so something was going on with Lexi and whatever it was, it was none of his business.

Until he saw Lexi and he convinced her to tell him what was going on with her.

They finished putting everything in the case and stood back, letting Jenna take all her pictures. Within minutes, Dylan’s phone pinged with a notification that The Bad Girl of Sweets had posted something new.

Yeah. He was not only following her, but getting buzzed when she did something new.

Jenna had used a cool filter and added a bunch of hashtags. Not only that, she’d put a tag on the post that said whoever picked a certain doughnut would get a free baking class with The Bad Girl of Sweets herself. Apparently one of them had strawberry filling.

“Can I just buy all of the doughnuts?” he asked, his eyes flipping up to meet Jenna’s.

“That might be cheating,” she told him, but there was a sparkle in her eye. It was strange; she looked so much like her mother and Lexi, but still like her father, as well. “But, she’d never know.”

Without hesitating, he began piling them back into the basket and walked them to the counter.

“What are you doing?” Lexi’s sister Andy asked, her eyes wide as he pulled out a few bills and paid for the doughnuts.

“Securing my place in a baking class. I heard the teacher is the best in Massachusetts.”

“You can’t buy them all,” she insisted, her eyes narrowing.

“Let the man buy the doughnuts, gorgeous,” Owen said, pulling Andy away. “If he wants to go toe to toe with Alex, let him. It’ll be good for her to have someone else to bug instead of crashing in on us all the time.”

Andy’s cheeks pinked as she slapped her husband on the chest. “She’s my sister. She can crash in on me anytime she wants.”

Owen leaned down to whisper in Andy’s ear and if anything, her cheeks turned redder.

Her eyes met Dylan’s. “Buy the doughnuts.”

Alex laid in the stupid hospital bed, hoping Beth and Logan were leaving soon.

Ever since she’d taken that teeny-tiny spill down the stairs, the night before, they’d been hovering.

Intensely.

Beth’s gaze was laser-focused on Alex, her eyes flicking back and forth between her face and her stomach. As if, she’d be able to tell if something was going wrong in there.

The dizzy spell had come on suddenly. One second she’d been heading to grab a sweatshirt, and the next she’d been sliding down the stairs like a slinky. She was fine, for the most part. Just a bruise here and there and a great big goose egg on the back of her head.

Baby bambino or bambina Hallowell was just fine in their little slice of uterus, completely unharmed. From the way Beth was staring at Alex though, one would think the thing was ready to pop out at any moment.

Thankfully, the Monroe contingent—Andy, Owen and Jenna, had headed to Boston Beans to make Alex’s regular Thursday delivery and weren’t there to hover anymore.

“Can you stop? I feel like a bug under a microscope,” Alex complained, breaking the long silence.

“She’s just worried,” Logan murmured, his hand rubbing his wife’s back.

“All the doctors have said I’m fine and the baby is fine. I’m only still here because I hit my head. You can stop looking at me like I might expire at any moment.”

Beth just shook her head, not uttering a word, her hands gripped, white-knuckled on her knees.

“Your mother fell in the shower when she was pregnant with Spencer,” her father, Charlie Walker, said from the corner where he was camped out.

“Well that explains a lot,” Alex said.

That at least got a chuckle from the men in the room.

“It was early on and it put the fear of God into her,” he continued. “He was her first, you know. She was so careful, ate all the right things, and made sure to do everything by the book. And then one day, she just lost her legs in the shower.”

Beth’s eyes were now locked on her father, not Alex, and the relief was staggering.

“She blamed herself, thinking she’d done something wrong.” His eyes were serious but soft when they met Beth’s. “But she hadn’t. Carrying a baby isn’t an easy feat and her body rebelled against her, more than once. Just like Alex, there was nothing she could have done.”

“I don’t blame Alex,” Beth said right away.

Alex wasn’t so sure that was the case, but she wasn’t going to call her sister on it.

“When she was pregnant with the twins, she was sick as a dog. Couldn’t keep anything down for months and months.” Alex and Beth listened with rapt attention. Charlie didn’t talk much about their mother, her death nearly crushing him. He usually avoided conversations that revolved around Elise Walker because it just hurt him too much to talk about her. Now that he was taking a moment to open up, they were going to give him their full attention. “She was sure they’d come out puny because she hadn’t been able to give them enough. She worried and fretted, stuck on bed rest for the last month or so, killing herself, trying to keep down a slice of toast, that she hadn’t done enough.”

He looked at both of his daughters.

“You’re both doing enough. The doctor said the baby will be fine and Alex is healthy. We can’t ask for more than that.”

Beth nodded, her eyes watery. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Tell your sister you’re sorry,” he grunted. “You’ve got her thinking she did something wrong.”

Alex hadn’t said as much, but it wasn’t too far from the truth. While she knew that she couldn’t have helped the dizziness, the way Beth acted made her second-guess herself. Maybe she hadn’t eaten enough or went up the stairs too quickly.

“Sorry, Lex,” Beth intoned obediently. Logan’s lips twitched but he kept a fairly neutral expression.

They all turned when a knock sounded at the door. Jenna stood there, bouncing on her toes, her smile wide as she looked at Alex.

“What do you look so happy about?”

“I brought someone to see you?”

Alex raised her eyebrows in silent question.

Nope. No. Not even a little.

She sat up sharply and smoothed her hair.

Dylan James had stepped into the doorway, clad in his designer suit, looking like a million bucks.

Make that a billion bucks.

“What are you doing here?” Alex asked hurriedly, hoping she didn’t look totally horrible. Hell, she hadn’t looked in a mirror since before she’d fallen down the stairs. She was sure, after her quick trip to the ground floor of her house, an ambulance ride, and being admitted to the hospital, she looked worse for wear.

His dark eyes darted around the room quickly, sending the other occupants a nod before striding confidently to her bedside.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t come?” he asked, his voice low.

Honestly, she hadn’t thought about him at all. She’d been too busy trying to will the baby inside her belly to stay put.

“He was waiting for you at The Bean,” Jenna supplied, sitting next to Charlie.

Alex cut her eyes to Dylan. She hadn’t heard from him all week. She’d been fifty-fifty on the odds of him showing up at the coffee shop this week.

“Wasn’t sure you’d show,” she admitted, smoothing the hospital gown over her thighs.

She was sure she looked ridiculous, wearing nothing but her gown and a pair of cozy, fuzzy socks.

His shoulders lifted just slightly in an infinitesimal but noticeable shrug.

“I did,” he said. “You okay?”

His fingers appeared on the bed next to her hip, toying with the blanket, as if he was considering making a grab for her but wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure either, if she wanted him to reach for her or not.

“Fine,” she told him. “Just took a little spill.”

Logan scoffed. “Down a flight of stairs,” he added.

Dylan’s eyes narrowed as he looked her up and down, examining her more closely. “Is that true?”

She was the one to shrug now. “Mostly. I was partway down, so only half a flight.”

“Sounds like enough to do some damage. What are the doctors saying?”

“Dylan, you don’t have to do this,” Alex insisted.

“No, let him keep going,” Charlie piped in from the corner. “Let’s see what the boy’s made of.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Dylan, my father Charlie over there in the corner. You’ve met Jenna, apparently. This is Logan,” she said, pointing at her brother-in-law, who stood and clapped Dylan’s hand. “He’s married to my sister Beth, who I think you probably remember.”

He shook Beth’s hand. “The sister obsessed with decaf.”

Beth’s face was as hard as stone, but Alex and Logan both chuckled. This baby thing had totally knocked all the fun out of Beth. She was a total basket case. God bless Logan for putting up with her mood swings when she wasn’t even the one with the hormone hurricane raging inside of her.

“So, I met Andy, the twin”—Dylan sent Alex a sharp look—“and her husband Owen. Who am I missing? Just the brother, right?”

“Spencer,” Alex supplied.

“He’s at Alex’s, installing a bar for her to hold onto in her shower,” Logan supplied.

“Seriously?” Alex growled.

“I asked him to,” Beth put in quietly. “Just to be safe.”

Dylan was watching the byplay, a look of great intensity marring his face. He was taking in every word, every nuance.

He probably thought she was dying or something. Alex guessed it was time to clue him in on what was going on.

“Could you guys give us a minute alone,” Alex asked as nicely as she could muster. It probably still came out a bit snippy but she was tired. She’d been up most of the night, nurses in and out constantly and Beth by her side, worry radiating off her in waves.

They filed out of the room, one by one, Jenna giving her a thumbs-up on her way out. If she’d been older, Alex would have flipped her the bird.

“Pull up a chair,” Alex offered.

Instead, he planted his butt on the bed at her hip, taking her hands in his.

“Why didn’t you text me back this week?” he asked without preamble.

“I didn’t get a text from you,” she argued.

He pulled out his phone and then after a few swipes, shook his head. He turned it around and showed her a typed-out message.

“You never pressed send,” she pointed out.

He turned it back around and groaned. “Shit. I meant to send it. Technology and I don’t always get along. I wanted to talk to you. Then the week got away from me, and I assumed you didn’t want to talk to me when you didn’t respond.” He sent her a look. “You could have called me.”

She pulled a face that said yeah right. “I’m not so hard up that I need to call your secretary to schedule in a meeting.”

He just watched her for a second, her meaning hopefully becoming clear.

“Is this because I gave you my office number?”

She was about to answer but Dr. Bell poked her head into the room at that moment. Dylan stood when she came in, as if she was going to kick him off the bed. “Knock, knock. Mind if I come in and take another peek at that baby. Make sure everything looks okay in there before we send you home.”

That was not exactly how she wanted to break the news to Dylan that she was knocked up. His head cut sharply from the door to Alex, his dark eyes confused and she would guess a little angry. She understood. Most guys didn’t go around trying to pick up women and expect them to be pregnant.

Let alone with someone else’s baby.

“Surprise,” she said, her smile bright with humor.

He’d either take her or leave her, no matter how she came.

This was his shot.

Baby?

Dylan locked onto Lexi’s blue eyes and she was smiling, almost laughing at him.

“Surprise,” she said in that deep voice, a laugh underscoring her statement when he jumped quickly to his feet.

“You’re…” he couldn’t even finish the statement. There were several things coursing through his mind. Wondering if there was another man in her life, first and foremost. He didn’t like to share but he’d fight for her if he had to. But was he ready to take on a woman with a baby that wasn’t his?

“Pregnant?” she asked. “I am, but it’s not what you think.”

“Am I interrupting?” Dr. Bell asked now, looking between the two of them.

“If you wouldn’t mind coming back, Beth and Logan should be back in a few minutes. I’ll send them a text to let them know you’re ready.”

“Okay,” the doctor agreed, then looked to Dylan, then back to Lexi. “Sorry,” she mouthed.

Lexi just shrugged. She swung her gaze back to Dylan when the doctor left.

“Yes, I’m pregnant. Due in September.”

He felt his legs wobble and sat down heavily on her bed.

“It’s not mine though,” Lexi continued. “It’s Beth and Logan’s. I’m just carrying it. She can’t carry a baby because she had a hysterectomy. Our mother died of ovarian cancer and Beth totally freaked out. Well, she tested positive for the mutated gene and decided to get rid of everything when she had the chance. Andy and I tested negative. I’m not sure how those things work. Anyway, she can’t have kids and she and Logan wanted one, so I offered. Now I can’t remember why because I’ve pretty much barfed the last three months straight, and now I’m saddled with this whole dizzy-spell thing which sucks, so, I’m just waiting for the good part, you know?”

She was totally rambling, but Dylan didn’t mind. Not only was it sweet but it was very informative.

“We heard the heartbeat yesterday and I kind of lost it. I mean, I knew there was a baby in there, but holy shit, there’s really a baby in there. I didn’t think it would be a big deal, but it is. Then there’s you, coming into the shop and chatting me up. How’m I supposed to tell a man that’s hitting on me and buying me coffee that I’m pregnant, but oh yeah, the baby isn’t mine so no worries. I couldn’t exactly say anything—”

“Lexi—” Dylan tried to interrupt.

“I mean, what would I say? And I never meet men. Mostly because they’re all morons, and the second they find out I’m a twin, they make a gross sex joke because that’s apparently ingrained at birth, and then I’m out after that. But I didn’t think you’d do that because you’re way too classy for that.”

“Lexi.” He put a hand to her cheek and she settled instantly into his touch. “It’s okay.”

Suddenly, Beth freaking out about her sister drinking decaf made sense. He felt a swamp of guilt at supplying her with that half-caff if she wasn’t supposed to have it.

“It’ll have to be,” she said. “I’m totally knocked up now and out of the first trimester. It didn’t take the first two tries and my sister is a total wreck. She’ll come storming in here in a few minutes and hover over me because she can’t help herself.”

Dylan ran a hand over her head and encountered a big lump on the back of her head. She winced at his touch.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “How bad is it?”

“It’s fine. Just a lump. They just want to make sure I didn’t do anything to the baby, but they’ve already checked and said it’s fine in there. Just one more check and I think they’ll let me go home. You didn’t have to come all this way.”

“Your sister and Owen wouldn’t tell me anything about what was going on. Jenna spilled the beans that you were here in the hospital but after that, they all clammed up. You really think I wouldn’t come?”

“I think we’ve met a handful of times. It doesn’t exactly mean you have to come running when I take a little spill.”

Dylan shook his head and took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers.

“I don’t mind running,” he admitted. “Besides, I just won a baking class this morning. You’ll have to pencil me into your schedule.”

She let out a laugh that sent a tickle of pleasure down his spine.

“You picked the strawberry bomboloni?”

“I picked them all,” he admitted. “I wanted to win.”

“Well, congratulations then,” she said. “I can call your office to coordinate the best time.”

She was making that face again. The one that screamed her annoyance. Definitely pissed about giving her his business card instead of his personal number.

Dylan grabbed his phone and sent the message he’d intended to send earlier in the week.

He’d thought to send it, even typed the whole thing out. Not actually sending it made him feel careless and he’d hate for Lexi to think he was careless.

Especially if she was in a fragile state.

He glanced at her again. She didn’t look overly fragile. She still looked annoyed, but adorably so in her hospital gown with her mussed hair and sleepy eyes.

“I sent the message, so now you have my cell number. You can call or text me anytime.”

“We’ll see,” she said haughtily.

He didn’t hold back his laugh. “Not that you’re holding it against me.”

“Only a little,” she said. “But you showing up here helps, even if I’m in a paper dress and haven’t brushed my hair since yesterday.”

“I think you look incredible.”

She rolled her eyes. “Says the man wearing a designer suit.”

“Have to look the part at work,” he told her before her family started pouring in again.

“We brought the doctor back in for one more check,” Beth said, her husband right behind her.

He was a big guy who gave off a mellow vibe but Dylan had met plenty of men like Logan Hallowell before. They were the guys that ran the private security sector, all ex-military men and women. Something about the way he carried himself. He got the same feel from Owen, the way the man stood behind his family in public, guarding them from some unknown threat.

He’d ask Lexi about it someday, but for now, he just stood at her bedside awaiting instruction.

Charlie, her father, a grizzled older man, parked himself in the corner, out of the way. Jenna and her parents took up residence by the window, all standing together. Beth and Logan stood at the foot of the bed, their hands clasped together tightly.

Quite a story Lexi had told about Beth not being able to have children.

Quite a thing she was doing for her sister. They must be close, he assumed.

The doctor stood on the other side of the bed, a little wand thing in her hand and a smile on her face.

“One more check of the heartbeat, just to ease our minds, and then you can go home.”

Lexi laid herself flat on the bed and then flipped her eyes up to his. “You sure you want to stay for this?”

It was then that he realized what he was in the middle of. Her family was standing by, hoping to hear the baby’s heartbeat which could only be done through Lexi’s stomach.

They were all staring at him, waiting to see what he was going to do.

He felt very out of place and questioned whether he belonged there or not.

“Now or never, hotshot,” Lexi prodded as she slid her lower body under the blanket to cover her hips. “You’re either in it with a pregnant lady or taking a hike. No hard feelings.”

“There would totally be hard feelings,” her sister Andy argued without hesitating.

The rest of the room agreed.

“Yeah,” Beth agreed with a nod. “We’re grudge-holders.”

“Long memories,” Owen added.

Dylan felt an affinity for this group of people. He liked the way they knew each other and the way they protected each other. He and his parents were close but there were only three of them, so the dynamic was completely different. There were no protective brothers or sisters hovering around; the closest things he had were Brady, Lincoln, and Grant.

“I’m in,” he told her, his voice gruff as he grabbed her hand and held it in his.

The smile she sent him was full of surprise, like she’d been sure he was going to turn tail and run out the door.

So, she was pregnant. Like she’d said, it wasn’t her baby, so they wouldn’t have to worry about what happened when the baby came. There wasn’t another man to contend with—a baby daddy that would be sticking his nose into their burgeoning relationship.

Dylan was at least willing to see where this thing went.

As far as he was concerned, he was taking his chances with The Bad Girl of Sweets.

And the baby she was carrying.

Dylan had stayed through her hospital visit until she checked out. He’d been there through listening to the baby’s heartbeat, which was still strong, to being discharged. He’d stood around with her family arguing about which car she was going to ride home in, even putting in his two cents.

More than putting his opinion in, he’d won the argument, she marveled, as she directed him back to her little house in Freehope, from the passenger seat of his car.

His very nice, very expensive car.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked for the tenth time.

Alex nodded. “Just can’t believe you showed up and somehow won an argument with my family. They’re like a pack of rabid wolverines.”

“Who usually wins?” Dylan asked, one big, smooth hand on the wheel, the other holding her hand in his.

He was a toucher. One of those people that, even if it was just his pinky, needed to be touching her if they were together. It had barely been two hours since he’d shown up at the hospital and he hadn’t stopped touching her since.

She loved it.

Men were strange creatures: some like her brother Spencer, so surly they barely spoke, let alone so affectionate he wanted to cuddle. Some like Owen, who wanted to talk everything to death. Logan was a listener, a watcher, just waiting for his moment to step in and smooth everything over.

Dylan was a toucher.

“It’s a toss-up between my father and Andy.”

“Really?” he said, surprised.

“She kind of took over my mom’s spot after she died, taking care of everyone. Jenna was just a baby, around two, but Andy still took care of the rest of us. Or tried her best to, so we all listen to her when she speaks.”

“She and Owen must have been together for a long time,” he noted.

Alex shook her head and chuckled. “Just a few years.”

“But Jenna…” he let the sentence hang, confusion evident in his voice as he tried to work it out.

He never would. Andy and Owen’s story was long and winding, lasting decades.

“It’s a long story,” she told him.

He gave her hand a squeeze. “I have time.”

“Don’t you have to work?” Alex asked, knowing that she’d had to call and cancel her classes for the day. Certainly, on a Thursday, he’d be expected at his office.

“I can do what I need to do from home tonight,” he said unconcerned. “So, I’ve got all day to make sure you’re comfortable.”

Well that was cute, but totally unnecessary. “I have to bake everything for the Bean tomorrow,” she told him. “And I have to work tomorrow.”

He turned to look at her and then back to the road. “You have another job? Other than baking?”

“Selling a handful of stuff at the shop doesn’t exactly pay the bills. I’m just trying to get my name out there in some shops and maybe someday, yes, it’ll keep me afloat, but for now, I teach at the university and tend bar a couple nights a week.”

“What do you teach?”

She shrugged. “Principles of baking. Working with yeast. Things like that.”

“There are classes for that?” Again, he sounded surprised.

“What? You think people are just born knowing these things?”

He shook his head. “I guess I never really thought about it. That’s fascinating.” He looked quickly to her again as she directed him onto her street. “You must have quite the kitchen, to make the things you do.”

Alex laughed. Her kitchen was straight out of the seventies, all avocado greens and burnt oranges, but it still got the job done.

“Not quite,” she hedged. “But everything works and that’s all I need.”

She pointed to her driveway and he pulled in, parking in the little driveway next to her car. Alex wondered what he saw. Her little house only had two bedrooms, both upstairs, and one little bath downstairs. It was the perfect size for her, if not in need of a little work. She still had plastic on some of the windows, keeping out the late winter chill, and some of the planks of her hardwood were missing completely.

She’d bought the place with the intention of fixing it up, but that was a lot of work and she had no idea how to do any of it. Hiring someone was very expensive so she only did that when something broke beyond what she could manage.

It probably looked like a ramshackle cabin to his eyes, and she suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment.

After that came anger, hot and fast, mostly with herself. This was the home she’d made for herself. She’d struggled to make every penny to pay for it, and she had nothing to be embarrassed about. Not everyone was born with a trust fund and a free ticket to the Ivy League.

“It doesn’t look like much,” she said tightly as she unbuckled, “but it’s mine.”

“I like it. I think it looks perfect.” He gave her hand a squeeze again. “Stay put. I’ll help you out.”

He got out of the car and trotted around the front. He’d lost his suit coat and was just wearing the vest. It looked uncomfortable and ridiculous in Freehope but she wanted to ask him to wear it every day, maybe even when he slept.

He looked ungodly attractive—magazine worthy.

And she was acutely aware that she hadn’t brushed her hair or changed her clothes since the day before.

He opened her door and held out a hand, helping her to stand.

“My brother is still here,” she told him, noting that Spencer’s truck was still parked at the curb in front of her house.

“So, I get to meet the whole family today?”

“That’s about all of us,” she agreed, a sharp wave of loss rushing over her.

Sometimes it hit her like that—the loss of her mother never leaving her, just biding its time until it could rear its head and remind her of that bone-deep pain.

Dylan held a warm hand to the small of her back as she led the way to the front door, his big body close enough that she could smell his cologne. The door wasn’t locked; she didn’t expect it to be with Spencer inside.

She swung the door open and she yelled out to her brother the second she stepped inside.

“How long does it take to install a shower rail, which is totally unnecessary, by the way!”

Dylan followed her closely as she dropped her things on the floor by the door and went in search of Spencer.

“Spence?” she yelled.

“Out back,” came his deep reply.

Alex hurried through the kitchen, happy that it was at least somewhat picked up and not a total mess. She didn’t want Dylan to think she was a slob.

She was, but only a little.

She opened the back door to find Spencer, surrounded by lumber. He glared at her, like she was the one that disassembled her back steps and had them strewn across the yard.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me that this was a deathtrap? I came to throw something in the trash and almost fell through the damn stair,” he growled.

She could feel Dylan looking over her shoulder.

“That’s why I keep that door locked. Just go out the front,” she told him.

“Who the hell is that?”

“Dylan,” she said offhand. “What am I supposed to do with this now?” she held out a hand at the mess of rotted wood and what was essentially a drop-off when she opened the door.

Spencer ignored her, standing to his full height, hands on hips as he looked at Dylan standing behind her.

“Where the hell did he come from?”

“The stairs, Spencer,” Alex said, mirroring his position. “What am I supposed to do about that now? Fall out the door?”

“You already said you didn’t use it, so don’t bullshit me. And I’m fixing it. The stringers and risers are in my truck.” His eyes never left Dylan.

She spared him a glance to see that he stood there, intimidating in his own right, shoulders wide, hands in his designer pockets, face implacable.

“Spencer—Dylan, a guy I kind of like so far, so don’t screw it up for me. Dylan, my brother Spencer, the guy who’s fixing my deathtrap, so don’t piss him off.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Logan said the doctor gave you the green light.”

She nodded. “Good to go. No more throwing myself down the stairs though.”

Dylan’s hand tightened on the back of her shirt. “Not funny,” he grunted.

“He know you’re knocked up?” Spencer asked.

“Well, if he didn’t before he does now,” Alex complained. “What did I tell you about screwing it up?”

“I’m your older brother. It’s my job to screw it up for you.”

“Well stop it,” she told him. “I hate to leave you two here in Thunderdome, but I have to take a shower and clean up. Try not to kill each other.”

She spun on her heel and headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time, ready to have just a minute to herself in the shower. She let out a loud laugh at the sight in front of her when she got to the bathroom.

Spencer had installed a bar in her shower, alright. A shelf that had a wineglass on it with a little note that said, A new bar for your shower, as requested by Beth.

Somehow, she was sure that wasn’t what her sister had meant.

Lexi had told him that her brother was big and intimidating and he’d only listened with half an ear.

Next time, he wouldn’t make that mistake. She hadn’t been exaggerating in the least bit. Spencer stood at least six-and-half-feet tall, a hulking bruiser of a dude. His eyes were the same color as his sister’s but they were hard and full of suspicion.

Dylan extended a hand. “Dylan James.”

Spencer hesitated, eyeing his outstretched hand before finally taking it.

“Spencer Walker.”

An awkward silence descended while they eyed each other, Spencer a wall of muscle and intimidation.

Dylan searched for anything to say, his mind whirling, trying to latch onto something. His eyes hit on Spencer’s T-shirt.

“You like that White Mountain Blueberry Brew?” he asked.

He’d tried the beer himself at a tasting, but hadn’t enjoyed it. They had a summer ale he liked and an Octoberfest, but the fruit flavors were his least favorite.

“No. My distributor gave me the shirt but the beer is shit.”

Dylan nodded. “Yeah. I like the summer ale,” he agreed. “Have you tried the Harper Farms pale ale?”

Spencer’s hard gaze lightened a fraction as he reconsidered Dylan.

“It’s good. Not as good as the amber, but not as bad as this shit.” He pointed to his shirt, then leaned down and went back to work.

Dylan wanted to offer his help but hesitated. He was still wearing a suit and had no idea what to do. Home improvement wasn’t exactly on his list of specialties.

“I’d offer to help but I think I’d just hold you up.”

Spencer sent him a dry look. “You don’t say.”

Dylan laughed at Spencer’s tone and didn’t mind being the butt of that joke. He could admit his shortcomings. When he needed help fixing something, he hired someone who knew what they were doing.

He wasn’t that guy.

“I’m not that handy around a house,” he admitted. “But, if you want to invest your money, I’m your guy.”

“Yeah?” Spencer perked up. “I’m trying to get my own craft-beer company off the ground. Still brewing at home, but it’s a damn good beer. I’ve got a little money saved up. Think you can help me out?”

Dylan nodded. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t mind testing the product either.”

“My sisters are all pains in the asses,” Spencer said out of the blue, crouching on his haunches to fix the stairs but looking up at Dylan. “But I love them anyway. Alex told you about the baby?”

Dylan nodded. “And I met the rest of the crew at the hospital.”

“I know. Andy texted me.”

Word traveled fast with the Walkers. Dylan would have to remember that.

“Thing is,” Spencer continued, “Alex has it in her head that this whole thing is going to be easy. She and Beth, they aren’t exactly besties. Fight like you wouldn’t believe, you know? But she wanted to do this for Bethy, to give her something, maybe show her how much she loves her or some shit. She thinks when she has the baby, she’ll just keep on keeping on, just like it was before.” He sent Dylan a grave look. “I know you just met her, but she’s not in a place where she can handle casual. She might very well be heading right into a shit-storm. You’re going to have to decide if you’re in or you’re out.”

“We just met,” Dylan pointed out.

“I know. Bad timing on your part, but you’ve got a right to know the truth about where she is, and she sure as hell won’t tell you because she hasn’t even figured it out for herself yet. She’s got a lot going on, that’s all I’m saying. Don’t give her anything else to worry about.”

It was a warning. Not veiled in the slightest, just a blatant caution about where Lexi was in her life.

It wasn’t necessary. He had no intention of letting Lexi’s situation scare him off, or adding to her worries.

“Noted,” Dylan said.

Spencer eyed him speculatively, almost impressed. “You’re staying.”

It wasn’t a question but Dylan gave him a nod in answer anyway.

“Okay,” Spencer murmured, definitely impressed this time. “Next time you’re around, I’ll have Alex bring you by to taste my beer. I’ve got a few names kicking around but I haven’t decided on one yet.”

“Get some of your financials in order and I’ll see what I can do to make you some money.”

“You work with small-time guys like me much?”

Dylan shook his head and gave Spencer the straight truth. “No. Usually we’re looking for the whales, but we all do favors for friends and family. Not a big deal.”

Spencer stood to his full height which, even standing inside the house and two feet above him, was impressive. Lexi’s brother stuck out his hand and gave Dylan a solid shake.

“Consider yourself not in danger of being scared off.” He sent Dylan a shark’s smile. “Yet.”

“Consider yourself not too pissed off you won’t finish fixing the stairs. I don’t want Lexi falling and hurting herself.”

“Lexi, huh?” Spencer chuckled as he crouched again. “She must love that.”

“She hasn’t minded so far,” Dylan noted, though he wasn’t sure he’d ever called her that to her face yet. He’d have to tread carefully there.

He casually looked behind himself and into her kitchen.

Outdated wasn’t even a word that truly described what he was looking at. Decrepit? In shambles?

“She does all her baking here?” he murmured, more to himself.

“She’ll tell you everything works fine. Julia Child baked in a kitchen that looked just like this, she says. Even made us all go to The Smithsonian to see it. Sure as shit, it looks the same. Just without the last fifty years of wear and tear,” Spencer informed him. “One thing you’ll learn if you stick around, is that Walkers, the women especially, are some of the most stubborn creatures put on this green earth. Tried to buy her a new stove a couple years ago, she nearly came unglued. Now, we just buy her gift cards to the home improvement store. She said she’s stocking them up so she can buy something big.”

Dylan considered what it would cost to remodel her kitchen and to him, it would be pocket change. Twenty grand maybe, he thought as he looked around. He could make a few calls and have it fixed up in just a few weeks for her.

“I see what you’re thinking,” Spencer cut in, shaking his head. “Don’t do it. She doesn’t want to be bought.”

“It would be a gift.”

“One she doesn’t want. She wants to do it herself.”

“Stubborn women,” Dylan recalled and felt a swell of pride at her own sense of worth. Despite what people thought about him, he hadn’t touched his trust fund. Not really. He’d gotten himself through school, yes, but for the most part, that money was just making more money. He didn’t live off it. He and his partners all took a salary and lived like normal people.

Mostly.

He and Lexi lived in very different worlds, but not necessarily worlds apart. From what Spencer had to say about her, Dylan liked to think he understood her a little more and certainly respected her more.

He liked to think, if and when she learned where he came from, she’d think the same of him.

That he hadn’t just come from money. He’d worked hard to make something of himself.

He and Spencer chatted sporadically for a few more minutes until he heard Lexi coming down the stairs, her voice ringing loud down the hallway. He walked to the stairs, ready to help if she needed him.

“Well, I left him downstairs with Spencer. He’s either still here or he turned tail and ran. I choose option A. He’s got more balls than that,” she was saying.

She was quiet for a moment before he rounded the corner, her striking blue eyes meeting his. Her long, black hair was wet, brushed back off her face as if she couldn’t be bothered to style it any other way.

“No, I haven’t seen them yet, but I appreciate the confidence in my dating game, Kels.”

She smiled at him, completely unashamed with talking about his genitals with someone he didn’t know.

“Just have to ask,” he told her.

“He’s still here,” she confirmed to whoever she was on the phone with. “I’ll talk to you later?” She rolled her eyes at whatever the other person said. “Not for a few more months but I’ll see you guys before that.” More silence as she descended one more stair.

Dylan put himself right in her path, his hands coming to hold onto her hips as she stood in front of him.

She was small, barely more than five feet tall, but her presence was so much bigger. It wasn’t until he stood so close to her did he really notice their height discrepancy. She was soft and supple under his hands, her hips molding to his palms. He’d love to squeeze her. Not just her hips but her backside too.

He wanted to grab her ass and hold her to him, maybe grind against her some until she came.

He wanted to grab her breasts, squeeze her nipples as he pressed himself inside of her.

She must have seen the desire in his gaze, her cheeks heating as she puffed out a little breath onto his cheek. She’d leaned in a little, her body mere inches from him, and he could smell her freshly washed scent.

“Yeah. Talk soon, Kels,” she murmured, thumbing her phone and dropping her hand to her side.

“Hey,” Dylan whispered, her neck breaking out on goose bumps as his greeting coasted over her skin.

“I knew you’d still be here.”

“You won’t scare me off that easily,” he promised. “Besides, you promised to pencil me in for baking. I could give you a hand with your stuff for tomorrow.”

She leaned back a little and boldly ran her fingers through his hair, watching her hand the entire time.

“I can take care of all that. Really, I’m fine. You can go back to your workday and regularly scheduled life. We can catch up another day for your lesson.”

Dylan hesitated.

He should go back to work. Hell, he did have things to do, but he didn’t want to leave her. She’d just gotten out of the hospital. He should probably stick around to make sure she was alright.

“How about I stay for a while. At least that way, if you need something, I can help you, then I’ll go back to my regularly scheduled life.”

“No seriously,” she argued. “I got, like, no sleep last night. I was just going to hang out here and maybe take a nap. You’re not going to miss anything exciting.”

“I’d miss seeing you sleep,” he reasoned.

“It’s a little early for you to see that. You never know, I could be like Andy and snore like a truck driver. I don’t want to scare you off too soon.”

Yeah, Dylan thought as he laughed. He didn’t think that was going to happen.

He was enamored with Lexi Walker and every second they spent together, he remembered why. She was funny and bold and sexy as hell when her patented honesty tumbled from her full lips.

“I don’t think there’s too much chance of that,” he told her. “If I withstood the Spencer test, I don’t think a little snoring will do the trick either.”

She considered him, her eyes narrowed with fake scrutiny.

“Fine. But if I snore, don’t tell me yet. Let me keep on thinking I’m the perfect woman.”

Dylan barked out a laugh. “Deal.”