The Bride Next Door by Hope Ramsay (19)

Matt would have boycotted the Lyndon family’s Fourth of July barbecue if left to his own devices. Showing up and having to face his father sounded like a recipe for the kind of family drama he’d always hated. He wasn’t like his older brother, Daniel, who thrived on rebellion. No, Matthew was the middle child, sandwiched between Daniel the rebel and Jason the brainiac. Matthew had always tried to toe the line. Always. Not that it had ever gotten him much approval.

Dad wasn’t his only problem. Mom would be all over him, and he’d have to rain on her parade by telling her she needed to stop her clandestine planning for his apartment. If he didn’t have a job here in Shenandoah Falls, then he wouldn’t be living here for much longer.

So all in all, avoiding his parents sounded like a good plan of action.

But at 8:30 a.m. on Independence Day morning, someone knocked at his front door and roused him from the couch where he’d fallen asleep the night before. He sat up, his mouth dry and his head pounding, payback for the bourbon he’d consumed last night.

He didn’t want to answer the door for fear it might be Courtney. What would he say to her? He’d been pretty crappy to her on Monday night—asking for her kindness and repaying it with his anger.

He should have accepted her apology.

Dr. Doom jumped up on the coffee table and meowed just as Matt’s unwanted guest knocked again. “Guess I’m done hiding out, huh?” he said to the cat.

Dr. Doom meowed again. The sun was up, and he was hungry.

Matt pushed up from the couch and answered the door, finding his cousin Jeff, dressed in a pair of skinny jeans and a white T-shirt bearing the words “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal” leaning against the doorframe. Jeff took one look at Matt and said, “Tied one on last night, huh?”

Matt nodded and opened the door a little wider. Jeff was the last person on earth he expected to see at his front door.

The Lyndons were a clannish lot, and Matt had grown up with cousins to the right and left. In fact, the children of Mark, Jamie, and Charles Lyndon were almost like siblings. All of them had grown up in Shenandoah Falls. All of them had gone to the Episcopal High School. All the boys, except Daniel, had gone to law school at the University of Virginia.

Jeff had missed all that. His father, Thomas, had moved away from Shenandoah Falls and married Nina Talbert, heiress to the Talbert billions. Jeff had been raised in New York City and had visited Shenandoah Falls only once as a child. A few years back, Jeff had come for an extended stay in his father’s fishing cabin and met Melissa Portman, the owner of the used book store on Liberty Avenue. They’d fallen in love and had gotten married, but even though Jeff now lived in Shenandoah Falls, his relationship with the family remained strained.

He refused to use his father’s last name, and he tended to avoid family gatherings at Charlotte’s Grove.

“Why are you here?” Matt asked.

“Invite me in and I’ll explain.”

Matt nodded and stepped away from the door. “The place is a mess, but…”

Jeff gave the apartment a quick inspection. “Not really. You should try living with Melissa for a while. Then you’ll know what a real mess is all about.” Just then, the kitten came bouncing in Jeff’s direction. “Hey, Porthos, wazzup?” Jeff scooped the cat into his arms, where Dr. Doom made an idiot of himself. A frisson of guilt worked its way down Matt’s back. Doom ought to be living across the hall with Courtney. He needed the cuddles and lap time more than Ghul did.

The thought of Courtney’s lap simultaneously aroused and depressed him.

“Can I get you something? I’ve got Cokes, water, beer,” Matt asked.

“Nothing, thanks.” Jeff sat down on the couch, and Matt sank into one of the side chairs. The moment his ass hit the leather, he wished he’d gotten himself a glass of water. “So?” he asked.

The cat had already curled up in Jeff’s lap. “Yesterday I made a cash offer to buy Dogwood Estates from GB Ventures. Considering the negative press in the Daily, the company agreed. Of course, I offered them twice what the property was worth. I thought you’d want to know.”

“You what?”

He shrugged. “My wife wanted this to happen. And I have a blind spot when it comes to her. Dogwood Estates is going to be a huge money loser. But hey, a guy needs tax deductions, right?”

“Right.” Matt frowned. “What the hell is going on?”

“A couple of things. First, Courtney is Melissa’s best friend. Second, Courtney had a couple of good reasons for wanting this to happen.” He ticked his reasons off on his fingers. “She didn’t want Sid and Leslie to move away. She didn’t want Rory Ahern to leave the county and take Arwen with him, especially since she’s not sure Rory and Arwen are a match made in heaven. And finally, she wanted to get you off the hook with Uncle Charles and Heather.”

“What?”

“I tried to explain to her how things work in the family, but she was adamant on that point in particular. It really didn’t matter to me because I’d already read the stuff in the paper. Nice job, Matt. Have you ever thought about becoming an investigative reporter?”

“No.”

“A candidate for office, maybe?”

“No. Absolutely not. Who would vote for me?”

Jeff settled back on the couch. “Uncle Mark has been pestering me for the last six months about running for the County Council. He thinks someone needs to challenge Bill Cummins this fall. The only problem is that the party doesn’t have anyone willing to run. Mark thinks this is great because I wouldn’t have to mess with a primary or anything. But the thing is, I have no desire to enter politics. Do you? I think you’d be good at it. Of course, it would mean staying here in Shenandoah Falls.”

“I wouldn’t know the first thing about—”

“We’re talking the County Council, Matt. And your name is Lyndon. Plus, you’ve single-handedly exposed some pretty rampant corruption—enough for someone to wonder if Cummins was getting kickbacks from GB Ventures. I don’t think you’d have any problems raising money.”

“I didn’t expose GB Ventures on my own. I had some help from inside the county government and from Arwen Jacobs.”

“Okay, so you’ve already assembled a team. That seems like a good start.”

Matt shook his head. “A team? What are you talking about? I mean, Heather took money from Jerry Beyer, the CEO of GB Ventures and—”

“Who hasn’t taken money from Jerry? He spreads his money around like manure, currying favor wherever he can. Heather’s an idiot if she continues to take his money now that your exposé has appeared in the paper. To tell you the truth, I’m surprised Brandon tried to intimidate you and Uncle Charles. I can’t imagine Heather knew he was doing that.”

“You think she’s going to be okay?”

“Of course she is. She didn’t do anything unlawful. And neither did Jerry Beyer, unless he made under-the-table payments to Bill Cummins. In which case, they are both going to jail.” He smiled.

“And who’s going to pursue that angle in this county?” Matt asked.

“You. If you ran against him, you’d have a lot of opportunity to raise questions. And those questions would interest any number of hungry journalists. If you want to finish the job, you need to run. And you’d be doing me a favor. It would get Uncle Mark off my back. He really wants a Lyndon on the council.”

“But would he be happy with me? I mean, I’m—”

“The guy who exposed Bill Cummins for the crook he probably is? Yeah, I think Uncle Mark would be delighted to have you. And so would Uncle Jamie. You do realize that several of his farmhands had to quit because they couldn’t find housing in the county. So get your ass in gear. Go take a shower and a couple of aspirins and make yourself presentable. We’re going to Charlotte’s Grove for the barbecue and a long conversation with Uncle Mark and Uncle Jamie.”

Courtney sat on the folded seat of the commode in her bathroom staring at the little plus sign on the early pregnancy test. Really? This was like some epically cosmic joke or something. How could she be pregnant?

Easy answer: They hadn’t used a condom that very first time. They’d lost control and…

Damn. Now what? A week had passed since her argument with Matt—a whirlwind week in which so many things had changed for the better, thanks to Jefferson Talbert’s incredibly big heart.

Courtney would be forever indebted to Jeff for rescuing the tenants of Dogwood Estates. Although it would take more than a year to fully renovate every one of the apartment units, Jeff had already sent in a group of landscapers to hack back the weeds and resurface the parking lot. Roof repairs were also underway, and the trash containers had been secured against wildlife.

The renovations would be staged so that any of the remaining residents could stay in their units until newly refurbished apartments were ready for them. Best of all, Jeff had frozen the rent for the next three years for all remaining tenants. Leslie and Sid had decided to move in together, and yesterday they’d asked Courtney if she would plan a small wedding for them.

Matt’s life had changed too, although she hadn’t spoken one word to him. His mother and aunt had been swarming over his apartment for the last week, redoing everything. Courtney had run into them only once, thank goodness. She didn’t know what she would do now. Julia was going to be her baby’s grandmother.

She was curious to see what they were doing to his place. Anything would be an improvement over the stuff he’d bought at IKEA. And if he was running for office, he needed a little more class.

Courtney hadn’t expected Jeff to talk Matt into running for the County Council. But last Friday, Matt had stunned the county politicos by announcing his candidacy for Bill Cummins’s seat. Matt had the right political breeding, not to mention the full endorsement of Senator Mark Lyndon himself. The party, which had all but abdicated the seat, had been overjoyed to suddenly find a candidate with ready-made fundraising clout. Although it was early for editorial endorsements, the Winchester Daily had launched its own investigation into Bill Cummins and his relationship with Jerry Beyer. Sally Hawkes hadn’t yet discovered any kickbacks, but every day the newspaper published some new, damaging revelation of a very close, and potentially corrupt, connection between the two of them.

Arwen’s life had also changed. She’d moved in with Rory in order to save money, and she was helping him set up a recording studio right in downtown Shenandoah Falls. She planned to be the first artist to record there, and she had big plans to send her songs off to several recording artists in Nashville.

And now Courtney’s life was about to change more than anyone else’s. With stunning irony, her tasteless joke about the sperm bank had come back to bite her in the butt. The timing for this was spectacularly bad, what with Matt running for the County Council. Courtney had no illusions about her situation. Matt didn’t love her. He didn’t want to make a life together.

And the last thing he needed was an out-of-wedlock child.

But he would have one. And he’d probably hate her for it, although the only emotion Courtney felt when it came to Matt was love. And she truly hoped he’d love their child.

She got up from the bathroom and phoned Dr. Lawrence’s office, making an appointment for next week. Once that was done, she sat in her living room awash in a strange mixture of feelings: elation, fear, sadness, joy, all mixed together. She would be having this child one way or another. And that meant Matt would have to know about it. She decided not to wait to tell him the news. She had no desire to surprise or manipulate him.

So she stayed home and waited for him.

It was almost 10:00 p.m. when Matt finally came home. Courtney had spent the evening on her balcony keeping a lookout and had just about given up for the night when he came strolling down the street with his suit jacket over his shoulder and his shirtsleeves rolled up, like a campaign-poster portrait of a young politician.

He looked good enough to eat. Or to hug. Or to love for the rest of her life.

He paused a moment on the sidewalk, and Courtney’s heart soared. Please give me a poem.

It didn’t happen. It wasn’t ever going to happen again. Instead of poetry, Matt made a point of glancing away before turning toward the door.

This confrontation wasn’t going to be easy, but he needed to know the truth. So she opened her door and met him in the hallway, her stomach tied into knots and her pulse hammering in her head.

“I need to talk to you,” she said as he came up the stairs.

When he reached the landing, he turned those incredible brown eyes in her direction. “Look,” he said, “I probably should have come over a couple of days ago to tell you how much I appreciate the fact that you talked to Melissa and Jeff about Dogwood Estates. Honestly, if you hadn’t gone to Jeff, I don’t know where those tenants would be. Hell, I don’t know where I’d be. So, I owe you one. But I can’t—”

“Matt, I need to talk to you,” she interrupted. Courtney’s voice remained firm, which was nothing short of a miracle. His words of thanks were totally unexpected and knifed into her heart so much more effectively than his anger might have. “I have something really important that I need to tell you.” She opened her apartment’s door. “Please.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

A moment later, he stood in her living room, his presence making her apartment seem small. How would she manage without him? Hell, how would she manage if he wanted a relationship with their child? Would she be stuck loving him forever while he kept her out of his heart?

Her runaway thoughts settled in her throat. “Can I get you something? A beer, a Coke?” she said around the lump.

He shook his head. “What is it, Courtney?”

She pointed at the couch. “Sit down.”

Something in her tone must have warned him that she meant business because he dropped onto the couch and cocked one foot over his knee. “Okay. I’m here. I’m listening.”

“This is very awkward. I want you to know that I’m as surprised as you are.”

“Surprised about what?”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted.

The news had the expected effect. Matt’s face paled, his eyes narrowed, and his mouth dropped open. “But we used—”

“No. Not every time. Not the first time. The first time we forgot all about contraception.”

His brow came down into the signature Lyndon frown, and every muscle in his body tensed. Something hard and ugly burned behind his gaze. “I can’t believe it. Dammit. I’m an idiot.”

“No. We were both idiots. And I just want you to know—”

“If you think you can trap me into something, you are out of your mind. What was it? My name? My trust fund? What?” He jumped to his feet and pointed a finger at her. “I should have taken that joke about the sperm bank seriously.”

“Matt, come on. This is me you’re talking to. Not Allison Chapman. I didn’t set out to trap you into anything. I set out to take you down a peg or two, but instead…” Her throat knotted up again, and it became impossible to say anything else. Matt didn’t trust her, and she had only herself to blame.

“What do you know about Allison Chapman?”

“I know she’s a bitch. I have a feeling she took you for a ride.”

“How do you know that? I never told you.”

“You didn’t need to tell me. Allison did.”

“She what? I don’t believe you.”

“You can believe me or not. But Allison implied that she tried to trap you into a marriage. And to be honest, she suggested that I do the same. In my book, that made her a—”

“I can’t believe this.” Matt’s voice swelled with anger, and Courtney took a step back, her stomach suddenly roiling. “Here’s the truth: Allison befriended me back when I was an idiot about women. And the only reason she ever paid any attention to me was because she wanted to screw my brother. But when Daniel told her to get lost, she decided she’d settle for me. She seduced me. I know it’s hard to believe, but I fell for her BS hook, line, and sinker, especially when she played the ‘I’m pregnant’ card. But I’m sadder and wiser now, so—”

“Matt, please, I’m—”

“What was it? Did you two get together just to yank my chain? How many times do I have to apologize for taking Brandon’s bet?”

“Brandon’s bet? I don’t—”

“Don’t pull that wide-eyed innocent look on me, Courtney. I may have fallen for it once. But not now. This has all been about Brandon’s stupid bet, hasn’t it? You decided you’d take me down just to prove a point. Well, get this. I’m still standing.”

Matt’s fury knew no bounds. He ran from Courtney’s apartment and slammed his apartment door before he exploded with a stream of profanity, scaring Dr. Doom, who’d been waiting for him to come home.

The cat slunk down the hall to the bedroom, and Matt felt a small inkling of regret. But not enough to counter the rage running through him.

Allison Chapman had played him like a fine violin. He’d fallen head over heels in love with her, and he’d convinced himself that she loved him back. When she’d announced her pregnancy, he’d been overjoyed. He got right down on one knee and asked her to be his bride. He might even have quoted Elizabeth Barrett Browning. He’d been all of twenty years old.

She’d wanted to elope, of course. She’d given him some mumbo jumbo about her parents pressuring her into an abortion, about how they would be opposed to a shotgun wedding.

But he hadn’t wanted to run away. He’d wanted to be honest with his parents and his large family. And fool that he’d been, he’d wanted to celebrate his love and the arrival of a child. Besides, Grandma would have disapproved of a secret Vegas wedding. Grandma had passed away the year before his spectacular miscalculation over Allison.

So he’d gone to his parents with the news. They hadn’t reacted with joy. In fact, Dad had immediately interceded, calling Judge Chapman for a father-to-father chat. Twenty-four hours later, Allison Chapman confessed that she was not pregnant. And four years later, either Allison or her father had exacted a small revenge by sabotaging his chair during moot court competition. Such an immature thing for them to do. But then, Dad had humiliated both of them.

No, wait, it hadn’t been Dad. All of it, from beginning to end, had been Matt’s fault. For being so stupid and so gullible. He’d promised himself never to be played again.

He roared and punched the newly painted wall in his living room. The Sheetrock dented, and pain knifed through his hand and up his arm. Damn. Damn. Damn. How could he make the same mistake twice?

He cradled his bruised hand and paced. Bill Cummins would use this against him. He could see the headlines. Suddenly the crusader would turn into the womanizer. It was practically inevitable. And when he lost the election, he could imagine the disappointment.

Damn. He needed to head this off at the pass. But how? He certainly wasn’t going to Dad with this. Dad would call him an idiot, the way he always did. Matt was an idiot, but he didn’t need Dad to rub his nose in it. Why couldn’t he fall in love with an ordinary woman?

He threw himself onto the new leather and chrome couch in his living room and rested his head in his hands. He’d been fighting his emotions for a solid week. How many times had he stopped himself from making that journey across the hallway?

Dozens. More. Courtney had changed his life. If she hadn’t encouraged him to take his research to Linda and the press, Bill Cummins would continue to rip people off. If she hadn’t talked to Jeff, he’d be without a job or purpose in life, and the tenants at Dogwood Estates would be scrambling to find new homes. For a week, he’d been trying to convince himself that he could still trust her, and all the while she’d been sitting across the way plotting her next move in her cat-and-mouse game.

Like Allison, she’d trotted out the pregnancy card the moment he backed away.

He would have to tell someone, but the idea of dumping this news on Uncle Mark or Jeff made his stomach churn. They had trusted him. They had believed in him. And he would fail them all. Again.

Courtney dragged herself to work early on Wednesday morning. After spending most of Tuesday night sequestered in her bathroom alternately crying and hurling, she didn’t look her best, but she was happy to get out of her apartment.

Funny how easily Matt had lost trust in her once she’d lost trust in him. Maybe neither of them had ever trusted. It didn’t matter. It was over.

At least she’d told him the truth, and sooner or later, he would come to realize that she hadn’t been lying about the baby, and she hadn’t been trying to trap him into something either. She had every faith that Matt would want to be part of his child’s life. It would be okay. They lived across the hall from each other. Maybe they could share the baby sort of like they’d been sharing the cats.

She headed straight to the Eagle Hill Manor kitchen on Wednesday morning, where Antonin always kept hot water for tea, even in July. She made herself a cup of chamomile tea, and when Antonin asked if she was ill, she requested a couple of pieces of dry toast.

She took her breakfast, such as it was, up to her office, where she tried to focus on the weekend’s upcoming events. The chamomile almost settled her stomach, but it didn’t settle her head or her heart.

Amy arrived—with that pregnant-lady glow in her cheeks that Courtney had yet to achieve—took one look at her, and said, “Wow. Antonin’s right. You do look a little gueule de bois.” Amy, spoiled rich girl that she was, never tired of using her French.

Courtney rolled her eyes. “And that means…?”

“It’s French for hungover.”

“So glad you got to practice your French on my account.”

“Not on your account. I like speaking French with Antonin.” Amy crossed the room and sank into her chair. “So, where are we on the Boysco-Lopez wedding? Did the bride ever decide on the table linens? I have to put in an order for them today.”

Courtney pawed through the papers on her desk, trying to find the notes she’d taken on Friday. She couldn’t find them, and for some reason, that seemed like the end of the world. Her throat thickened, and a sense of doom settled over her. “I know I have my notes somewhere,” she muttered. She hated feeling disorganized.

“Are you okay?”

Courtney stopped looking for her notes and dropped her hands into her lap. She shook her head, and the tears started again. It was like God was punishing her or something, paying her back for all those dry-eyed years when she’d always kept it together. It was almost as if she’d banked her tears for a rainy day and the rainy day had suddenly arrived.

“Oh my God, what’s the matter?” Amy got out of her chair and crossed the short distance between their desks. “Tell me. Don’t be stoic.” Amy parked her behind on the edge of Courtney’s desk and gave her a knowing look. “Stoicism is highly overrated.”

Courtney dug in her desk drawer for a box of tissues just as Willow, also with that pregnant-lady glow, came through the door looking very concerned. “Antonin said you looked like hell, and Mom says you haven’t returned a single one of her phone calls. What’s going on?” She stopped in front of Courtney’s desk, crossing her arms.

Courtney may not have sought this intervention, but she welcomed it. Over the last week, she hadn’t spoken with Arwen about her heartbreak, and she didn’t want to go back to Melissa after all Jeff had done for Matt and the tenants of Dogwood Estates. She hadn’t wanted to burden Amy or Willow either.

But she didn’t want to do this alone anymore. And it broke her heart to think that Matt didn’t want anything to do with his own child. Of course she wanted him to want the baby. Hell, she wanted him to love and trust her. But that was like wishing for the moon.

The two of them had been so scarred by the past that they would probably never find a way toward the deeper trust necessary for a real relationship.

She looked up at Amy and Willow. She didn’t want to bare it all to them, but someone needed to inform the Lyndon family that it was about to get a little larger. And what better messengers could she possibly have? Amy and Willow would be her child’s cousins. And their babies and hers would all be part of the same family.

So she dabbed her eyes and said, “Pull up a chair. This is going to take a while.”

Matt spent the rest of the week living on the edge, waiting for Courtney’s next move. But when no negative stories appeared in the Winchester Daily, he allowed himself to breathe easier. Maybe he’d discouraged her.

Or maybe she was just waiting for the right moment, the way she’d waited to exact revenge on Brandon before she’d gone after his Camaro.

Or maybe she’d told the truth. That thought deeply disturbed him.

But he kept his mouth shut and focused on hiring a campaign staff. Heather, who had apologized for Brandon’s aggressive behavior on the whole Jerry Beyer front, had connected him with Hale Chandler, a political consultant familiar with Jefferson County politics. Hale had been brought on as his campaign chairman and had started vetting people for various positions. They were late getting into the game, and they had a lot of ground to cover in a short time.

The work kept his mind off Courtney, although it didn’t stop him from thinking about her every night when he returned home. The idea that she might be telling the truth always seemed to hit him around midnight.

It never failed to disturb his sleep. And the unrepentant romantic that still lived deep within him wanted to believe that Courtney loved him despite the way he’d treated her. He wanted to believe she was telling the truth, but he just couldn’t manage it. So he tossed and turned, night after night.

The lack of sleep left him wooly-eyed and cotton-headed on Sunday morning when he showed up for the standing brunch at Charlotte’s Grove. If ever he was going to confide in someone, today would be the day.

He needed advice. He couldn’t go on like this, waiting for the worst to happen and yet still hoping he was wrong about Courtney. But he couldn’t talk to Dad. After the Allison debacle, he’d lost faith in his father. The feeling was mutual.

Should he bring this to David? Maybe. Although his own insecurities made that difficult. He’d spent his life being told that he should be like David. David would never have gotten himself into a situation like this one.

He couldn’t talk to Uncle Mark either. Mark had believed in him when no one else had. He didn’t want to wreck that new beginning. So he entered Charlotte’s Grove unsure of himself, which was nothing new.

The July heat and humidity had descended upon the Shenandoah Valley with a vengeance that week, so Aunt Pam had laid out the buffet in the dining room. The family gathered in the adjacent den, which was already crowded when Matt arrived.

The moment Matt entered the room, Uncle Mark lifted his Bloody Mary and said, “The man of the hour has arrived.”

Matt stopped in his tracks, blinded by the sight of the family lifting their glasses in his direction. The insane urge to turn tail and run overwhelmed him. He suddenly needed to confess, in excruciating detail, why he could never be anyone’s man of the hour. How utterly ironic that the moment he’d waited for all his life didn’t ease his worry.

Nor did it erase the deep-seated ache in his heart.

But coward that he was, he didn’t say a word. Instead he snagged his own Bloody Mary and headed across the den in Uncle Mark’s direction.

But he didn’t get far before Uncle Jamie intercepted him. “You got a minute?”

The sober look in his uncle’s eyes put Matt on guard. Uncle Mark might be the oldest sibling and the one with the political connections, but Uncle Jamie was probably the most powerful man in Jefferson County.

If Matt were to become a member of the County Council, he’d have to worry about Uncle Jamie all the time. It occurred to him that the close family bonds might be a problem in the future. But for now he didn’t want to rock any boats.

“Sure. What’s up?” Matt said.

“Not here. Let’s step out onto the terrace.”

What the hell? It was ninety-six degrees out on the terrace. But Uncle Jamie snagged him by the arm and gently tugged him out through the French doors. No one, except David, seemed to notice. David, on the other hand, followed them with his dark, sober stare.

“Let’s sit in the shade,” Jamie said as he crossed the terrace and sat down under one of the umbrellas. Even in the shade it was muggy. Sweat began to dampen Matt’s skin. He took a long sip of his drink and then asked, “What’s up?”

“What’s up is that I’m deeply disappointed in you.”

Damn. Story of his life. He sat straighter in his chair. “About what?” He did a poor job of disguising his annoyance.

Jamie shook his head. “Don’t take that tone with me. I think you know what I’m upset about.”

Damn. This made no sense. Courtney wouldn’t have gone to Uncle Jamie. If she had wanted to mess up his life, she would have gone to Bill Cummins or the press. She could have made him pay. But she didn’t. All she’d ever done was help him and his clients.

“I’m confused.” He collapsed back in the chair and closed his eyes, the heat melting him.

Jamie chuckled. “I’m not surprised by that.”

Matt opened his eyes. “Wait. I really am confused. You’re disappointed and you’re not surprised. Oh yeah, I guess the story of my life.”

Jamie leaned forward and gave his knee an avuncular pat. “Son, Courtney Wallace apparently had a crying jag at work on Wednesday morning. And as you know, your cousin Amy, who is not here today because she works on Sundays, happened to mention it to me yesterday when she came by the vineyard to pick up some reserve wine for a reception.”

“Courtney had a crying jag? That doesn’t sound like her.”

“No, it doesn’t. And apparently she’s drinking a lot of chamomile tea these days.”

“Chamomile tea?” A very bad feeling was beginning to settle into Matt’s gut.

“That’s the foul-tasting tea women drink when they’re pregnant. Debra swore by it.” Jamie’s stare was both direct and compassionate.

“Are you telling me that Courtney really is pregnant?”

“Courtney is not Allison.”

“You know about Allison?”

“Everyone knows about Allison and what she tried to do to you. Thank God for your aunt Pam, who can be a royal pain in the ass much of the time. But in the case of Allison Chapman, she saw that girl coming from a mile away.”

“Aunt Pam?”

“Are you telling me that your father never told you how Aunt Pam cornered that girl and cut right through her lies?”

Matt shook his head. “No. I thought he went to Judge Chapman or something.”

“Why would your father do that? He regularly argues cases before Judge Chapman. And believe me, there was some fallout, even though Pam did the dirty work.” Jamie let go of a long sigh. “Look, son, I know you were heartbroken over Allison. Everyone in the family knows that. But Courtney is not Allison. I understand if you don’t want to marry her. But you’re a fool if you walk away from a child.”

Uncle Jamie’s voice got hard and a little emotional. The look on his face pierced Matt’s armor. If he didn’t know better, he might think Uncle Jamie had a child somewhere no one knew anything about.

“Are you saying that—”

Jamie put up a hand, palm outward. “We’re not talking about me. Or my regrets, of which there are many. I’ve been an asshole on any number of occasions. And in this case, it takes one to know one.”

Matt braced his elbows on his knees and sank his head into his hands. Sweat rolled off his back. It was hotter than hell, even under the umbrella. “I guess if the shoe fits…”

“But here’s the thing. Redemption is possible. I have discovered this. There was a moment, not long ago, when I had lost Amy’s trust. But look at us now. I even like her husband. But don’t tell Dusty that. He might get a swelled head.”

Matt chuckled but said nothing.

“Do you love her?”

Wow, that question jolted him right out of his complacency. He raised his head. “Yeah.” He spoke the word on a long sigh. “But I screwed it up. I got all bent out of shape when she accused me of cheating on her when I didn’t.”

“And you paid her back by not believing her when she came to you with her life-altering news, is that it?”

He nodded and then shook his head. “I guess trust goes both ways, huh?”

“If you’re interested in a real relationship it does. Take it from me, the guy who strayed and ended up without his wife’s trust.”

Damn. That was news. Uncle Jamie had lost his wife a number of years ago to cancer, but Matt had never dreamed that Jamie had cheated on Debra.

Uncle Jamie must have read the surprise on his face because he said, “Look, I get the allure of playing the field. It’s fun. But love is something else again. It’ll mess with your head and make you feel like you’re gonna die. But it’s worth it. And if you want to know my biggest regret? It’s that I didn’t let myself love.

“So, I’m not advising you to marry Courtney Wallace if it’s only because you’re running for office or you’re afraid of a scandal. These days, nobody cares if you have a baby out of wedlock. Everyone is doing it. But if you love her, then don’t be an asshole. You get up right this minute and you go find her and you tell her how you feel. Have you told her how you feel?”

He shook his head.

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “Fear, mostly. I don’t know. Stupidity?”

Jamie nodded. “I am familiar with these feelings.” The older man stood up. “And just remember this, even if you decide that it’s not going to work out between the two of you, you only get to be a father to that baby once. Don’t blow it.”

Jamie strolled back toward the French doors. He stopped halfway and turned to look over his shoulder. “And one other thing I’ve learned from my many mistakes. Giving love, especially to a child, won’t diminish you. You don’t run out of love. It’s funny that way.”

He turned and continued his journey into the air-conditioned den.

Matt stayed behind, enduring the July heat in his own private hell, thinking deeply about his next move.

Courtney dragged herself home on Sunday evening. It had been an easy day at work with only one small event—a thirtieth-anniversary luncheon and vow-renewal ceremony—and yet she was exhausted. As she climbed her apartment’s steps, her only thoughts were about a glass of tea and a tepid bath. The weatherman said the heat index had reached one hundred and six. She believed it.

Her bones were limp, her skin sticky, and her stomach unsettled, as if a body snatcher had taken possession of it. That brought a little smile. In a way, she had been invaded, and the little stinker was changing her body chemistry—even though she was only about four weeks into this unexpected adventure. Her appointment with Dr. Lawrence wasn’t for another couple of days, but she didn’t need a doctor to fully confirm the pregnancy. Her nipples were already turning a dark rosy color.

She gave Aramis a can of food and then headed to her bedroom, where she peeled off the slightly damp little black dress she’d worn to work. She had several little black dresses, which served as a kind of uniform when she had to manage receptions and weddings. Black was a fine color for the fall, winter, and spring. Summer, not so much.

She’d just changed into her terry-cloth robe when something rattled the French doors in her bedroom. It almost sounded like someone was throwing pebbles against the glass.

It was probably Ethan Riley from downstairs. The kid needed a little discipline. She tore open the doors. “Ethan, I swear, if you break my window, I’m going to make you scoop cat poop for a solid month.” She stepped onto the small Juliet balcony and leaned on the iron railing.

“I’d be totally willing to scoop poop for you,” Matt said. “In fact, I was just reading in this book that it’s probably not a good idea for you to be doing any poop scooping at all.” He waved a paperback book that looked suspiciously like a copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting.

Her body flushed hot, and not from the evening sun that baked the front of the apartment building. This wasn’t happening, was it? This was a fever dream.

Matthew Lyndon, wearing a Ralph Lauren polo shirt and khakis, with his longish hair curling in the July heat into a slightly sweaty tangle over his forehead, was standing below her balcony.

Like Romeo.

Stupid romantic heart. It should have given up a long time ago. But she had to hand it to him. He was standing out there in the hundred-degree weather when he could have just as easily knocked on her front door.

“You should get out of the sun before you give yourself heatstroke.”

He tucked the book under his arm and folded two hands over his chest. “I’m proving my adoration down here by enduring the elements.”

“Oh, is that what it is?”

“Yes. Now be quiet. I have something to say.” He paused a moment. “Um, but before I say it, you might want to tighten the belt on that beautiful robe because, uh…”

She looked down. Her boobs were about to make an appearance. She tucked them back in place and tightened the belt. “Okay, I’m ready. Now what?”

He cleared his throat again. And then he started talking in that voice he used whenever he recited poetry.

She recognized the Shakespeare sonnet immediately. No truer words were ever written about the power of true love. And as those words floated up on the hot summer air, a knot swelled in her throat, and her eyes got all misty, and tears started flowing like water. The book and the poem and the pebble against her window. Who said romance was dead in the twenty-first century?

“Don’t cry, please,” he said when he’d finished reciting the poem. “I know you can never forgive me for what I accused you of, but I’m hoping against hope that you will forgive me. Because I don’t want to abandon a child, Courtney. And the truth is, I don’t want to abandon you either.

“We may have started out trying to one-up each other, but that changed somewhere along the line. The truth is, you’ve done nothing to hurt me. In fact, I owe you for just about everything. There are people who regard me as some kind of hero because I gave my research to Linda Petersen, who is probably a much bigger hero than I am. And I would never have taken even that small step without you.

“And most of the tenants of Dogwood Estates seem to think I was the one who went to Jeff and convinced him to save those apartments. You did that too.

“Everything I’ve become over the last few weeks is all because of you. And your kindness to the tenants should have told me right from the start that you weren’t like Allison.

“So I know you can’t forgive me, but I’m hoping. On bended knee.” He got down on his knees and looked up at her out of those big, dark, sad puppy-dog eyes.

“Oh, for God’s sake, get up, you silly man. And get out of the heat.”

He grinned. “Okay. I’m coming up.”

She met him at the door. “So will you forgive me?” he asked.

She nodded, tears streaming down her face. “Will you forgive me?”

He cocked his head. “I’m sorry about that too.”

She shook her head. “No. That was my fault. All my fault. How on earth can I expect you to trust me when I didn’t trust you?”

He cupped her face and swiped her tears away with his thumbs. “We both got played, Courtney. A long time ago. And I guess it’s not easy to come back from that. It’s not always easy to trust when you’ve been hurt before.”

She nodded. “I only cared because I love you. I never would have called you on it otherwise. I truly believed that you were a player, Matt, but you’re not. You don’t fit the boxes I’ve labeled. You never have.”

“So, are we going to do this? The last time a woman told me she was pregnant I immediately got down on one knee.”

“What?” She blinked. “Really?”

He cocked his head. “I thought you knew about Allison.”

“I know she played you, but—”

He took a step forward into the apartment and closed the door behind him. “One day I’ll tell you the whole story. I only just learned all the details this morning. But suffice it to say that I would have been trapped by that woman were it not for Aunt Pam’s quick thinking. Who, by the way, has a surprising amount of respect for you. Something about the way you stood up to Daniel’s ex-fiancé when she wanted to turn her wedding into a three-ring circus.”

“Really? Pam likes me? To tell you the truth, she intimidates the crap out of me.”

He nodded. “Well, that too. Pam also thinks we should name the baby George after my grandfather, which is not a suggestion so much as it’s a command.”

“Let’s hope it’s a girl, then.”

He pulled her into a kiss so sweet and so hot it buckled her knees. He pulled back a little. “Will you marry me?” he asked.

She’d waited all her life for someone to ask that question. But for some reason she hesitated in her answer.

He nodded. “I’m not worried about my campaign, and I’m not asking because of the baby. And I’m not even worried about your eventual answer. I want you to know the truth about how I feel. I’m tired of waiting for my real life to start. And the truth is, in the last few weeks, I found myself. That would never have happened without you. And it’s so clear to me now. My real life is right here, right this minute, with you. So if you want to wait, that—”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m tired of waiting too. Let’s elope.”

He laughed. “No way that’s happening. But we’ll let Amy and Willow plan the shotgun wedding, okay?”

And then, just like Mr. Right, he pulled her close for another long, erotic kiss before he hoisted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, where he made slow, beautiful, soulful love to her.