On Saturday, Becca could think of at least seven things that she’d rather do than go to Hayley’s baby shower. While she got dressed in the skinny jeans and long gray sweater she’d wear, she listed them in her head.

One: clean the downstairs bathroom again, even though nobody had been over to use it.

Two: curse her way through trying to bake macarons.

Three: beg Amanda to let her go back to work a week early.

Four: get a bikini wax even though she’d just had one last week.

Five: read Moby Dick from start to finish.

Six: hide underneath her bed and eat botched macarons.

Seven: drive to the mall in Tacoma and try on bathing suits.

She looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head. She was being childish. If they really didn’t want her at the baby shower, they wouldn’t have invited her. And by keeping herself away from them, for instance, by missing the Licorice Fiddles Christmas show last December, she was only hurting her own chances of keeping her friendship with Summer.

The thing was, she loathed dishonesty. And something wasn’t quite right with Summer, ever since she’d started dating Jackson. Becca didn’t think Jackson was abusive or anything like that. It was more that Summer had become more secretive. She wasn’t telling Becca everything like she used to. And that hurt.

Tonight wasn’t about Becca and Summer, though. It was about the little baby who’d soon be coming into this world. Becca resolved to focus on the baby. The books and blanket she had ordered were all set to go—she’d wrapped them in beautiful paper decorated with ducklings and added a card that said, “Welcome, little one—I can’t wait to meet you. With all my love, Becca.”

She found a parking spot close to The A-Hole and went inside, the packages under her arm. It wasn’t hard to find her friends—they’d parked at their usual table in the far corner and they were laughing and talking, like usual. One big happy family.

Sighing, she made her way toward them. Summer turned and saw Becca. She stood up. “Hey, girl!”

“Hey yourself.” Becca’s smile was real. She’d genuinely been missing Summer. She turned to greet everyone else, her gaze lingering on Hayley. “You look great, mama.”

“Thanks,” Hayley said.

Becca waved at Eleanor and the guys, then set the gifts down in the middle of the table with the others. “Looks like this baby’s getting quite the haul,” she said with a laugh. The presents were stacked on the table to the point where it would be hard to see across, and there were more gifts waiting in the corner behind the table.

“Good thing we brought my truck,” Marius said, sounding amused. “Although I might have to leave Hayley here so I can get all the gifts home.”

Hayley swatted him.

“Hang on, one more coming in,” a deep voice said from behind Becca.

She turned around and nearly bumped into him.

Hot Naked Crazy Guy, the one she’d picked up on the highway, was standing very close to her—so close she could see the dark chocolate brown of his eyes and smell the faint trace of spicy cologne he wore. She wondered what that cologne was called, but had a feeling it might have “panty-melting” in the name somewhere. He’d looked good all roughed up on the highway without any clothes on. But he looked even better up close where she could touch and smell him.

“You,” Becca said. “You know these people?”

“Oh, do you know Nick?” Hayley asked, her voice intrigued.

“Not really,” Becca said, suddenly breathless. She tried to take a step back, but she was pinned between him and the edge of the table.

Smirking, he reached around her to drop a gift on the pile. Then he faced her directly. Holding out a hand, he said, “Hi, I’m Nick Gaines.”

“Becca Van Housen.”

When her hand touched his, the contact zinged through her body. What the hell was this? She was an adult and she was perfectly capable of shaking hands with a handsome man without getting all flustered. But her face felt too hot and her mouth dry and her stomach loopy and her nipples, well, they apparently had minds of their own because she could feel them stiffening against the lace of her bra.

“I’m gonna grab something to drink,” she said loudly and abruptly. “Go ahead with the gifts, Hayley; I’ll be right back.”

She sidestepped Nick and rushed to the bar. Ross, the bartender, came over to her right away, despite the busyness of The A-Hole. Becca always tipped him really well.

“What can I get you?” he asked.

“Something strong,” she said, before she remembered she was driving and she didn’t want to stay long. “Wait, no. I have to drive. A mojito, please, and don’t make it too strong.”

“You got it.”

As Ross stepped away, Becca felt Nick at her side. She didn’t know how she knew it was him, because she was very carefully not looking in his direction. It was more like her body was aware of him more than any part of her brain.

Behind her, she could hear the Jaynes group laughing. Were they laughing at her? Could her bizarre reaction to Nick have been noticeable? Ugh, she hoped not. How embarrassing. Bad enough she’d bolted like that.

“Funny how you gave me a ride last week, but I never learned your name.” His voice was low and soft. Like his touch, it zinged through her body.

“Nothing funny about that night at all,” Becca said, trying to match her voice to his. Level, even. Unperturbed. “I hit you with my car. You were strangely unaffected, and I gave you a ride to town. I was hoping to never see you again.”

“But you thought of me,” he said, his voice amused.

She might have gotten herself off to a mini fantasy of what could have happened between them if he’d ridden in the passenger seat and she’d parked somewhere remote.... “Not really,” she said.

He chuckled. “That’s a lie.”

It was a lie, and the fact he knew it bothered Becca just as much as the fact she’d told a lie. Not that she’d ever admit to touching herself to thoughts of him, but she could have gotten around that somehow.

“I’m happy to run into you again,” he said. “I didn’t know you were friends with this crowd.”

“Just...peripherally,” she said. “Summer was my best friend, and now she’s related to Hayley. I’m sure they were just—” She stopped herself. She didn’t know this guy, and unloading about all the interpersonal drama wasn’t smart. And Becca was smart. She knew how to hold back, she knew how to be tactful. “Smart” and “tactful” were practically in her job description.

“Hey,” he said, reaching for her arm.

Before he could make contact, Ross returned with Becca’s drink. He glowered at Nick. “This guy bothering you, Becca?”

“We’re okay,” she said. She was definitely bothered, but not in the way Ross seemed concerned about. “I’d like to get him a drink. Nick?”

“A beer, please,” Nick said, sounding surprised. “A session IPA, if you have one.”

“Sure thing,” Ross said. He returned a few seconds later with Nick’s beer.

Becca set a twenty on the bar and grabbed her mojito.

Nick tilted his glass toward her. “Cheers,” he said, “to unexpected meetings.”

Becca watched him raise his glass to his lips. “You mean the kind of unexpected meetings that involve vehicular manslaughter?”

He swallowed quickly, his eyes watering, and then he laughed. “Something like that. Should we get back to the baby shower?”

“Oh...right,” she said. She’d gotten wrapped up in Nick—staring at him, smelling him, flirting with him—and she’d forgotten why they were both at The A-Hole to begin with.

They walked back to the corner table. Summer grabbed a chair from the table behind her and pulled it over for Becca to sit next to her. Becca contained her smile when Nick grabbed another chair and brought it next to hers.

“Everybody got their liquor?” Hayley asked.

Everyone raised their glasses. Hayley raised her milkshake.

“All right,” she said. “Bring on the baby’s presents.”

While everyone ooh-ed and ahh-ed over onesies and tiny shoes, Becca was hyperconscious of the man seated next to her. His spicy scent—she couldn’t quite place it, but she knew she loved it. It took all her self-control not to scoot closer to him.

Dangerous territory, she realized. But she still couldn’t make herself move away.