The Bachelor's Little Bonus

So, it surprised her a little when he rested a hand on her shoulder as he gazed somberly into her eyes. “You know, Stevie, I’m not much of a conversationalist, but you’ve told me more than once that I’m a very good listener. And I’m your friend. If there’s anything at all I can do for you, I hope you’d feel comfortable telling me.”

Though she tried to hold on to her composure, all it took was a slight squeeze of his fingers to make her eyes fill with tears. To her consternation, sobs burst from her chest as an overtaxed emotional dam finally gave way, and there seemed to be nothing she could do to stop them.

After only a heartbeat’s hesitation, Cole stepped forward and gathered her into his arms. He patted her back somewhat awkwardly, a bewildered male response that only made her cry harder.

“Stevie, tell me. What’s wrong?”

“I’m—” She choked, then blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”

* * *

Cole’s hand froze in midpat. Of all the answers he had imagined, that was the lowest on his list.

Her voice muffled by his shoulder, she spoke in a flood of jumbled words interspersed with gulping sobs. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I haven’t told anyone, not even my best friends. This has been building up for weeks, ever since I first suspected I was pregnant, but I didn’t want to even think about it. I tried to believe it was just stress or miscalculation, but it’s real, and now I’m almost three months along. Joe moved to Austin and I’m pretty sure he has another girlfriend there already. He said he doesn’t want a kid and he’d be a terrible father, anyway. I’m not even brokenhearted about the breakup because it wasn’t working out and neither of us was really happy. Still, my brother and I grew up without our fathers and I always said I’d never do that to a child and I can’t believe I was so stupid at my age. I’ll do my best to give my baby a happy childhood. I mean, I turned out okay, right? But the weather was terrible tonight and I was home all alone and I just wanted company, even if it was only your cat,” she finished in a soft wail.

He followed the tangled monologue, but just barely. It was a lot of information to digest in a very short amount of time. Fortunately, interpreting massive amounts of data was what he did every day. Stevie was three months pregnant. Joe was out of the picture. Stevie planned to raise the child alone. And she was obviously scared spitless.

Because a calm tone usually trumped overwrought emotion, he asked, “Have you seen a doctor?”

She nodded into his shoulder. “Twice.”

“Are you okay? Healthy?”

Her sniffles slowed and she bobbed her head again. “Both of us are.”

Both. He swallowed at the reminder that he wasn’t holding just Stevie. He couldn’t think of anything reassuring to say, so he fell back on practicality. Reaching around her, he snagged a paper towel from the counter and offered it to her. “I don’t have a clean handkerchief on me, but maybe you could make use of this?”

His prosaic offer seemed to jolt her out of her meltdown. She made what appeared to be a heroic attempt to get her emotions under control. When she raised her head slowly to look at him, her wet, vivid blue eyes looked huge against her pale skin. She clutched his shirt in both fists as though anchoring herself in a whirlwind. Drawing a deep, unsteady breath, she relaxed her grip, carefully smoothed his crumpled shirt and stepped out of his arms. He hovered close. She still looked fragile enough to collapse at his feet.

“I, um—” It seemed to annoy her that her words were interrupted by a little catch of her breath. She cleared her throat and said, “I’m sorry I fell apart on you. The words just started flooding out and I couldn’t stop them.”

“You needed to unload,” he said simply.

“I guess you’re right,” she said after a few moments. “Like I said, I haven’t told anyone except Joe and my doctor. I just... I didn’t know what to say.”

“Keeping it to yourself for so long had to have been hard for you.” It must have been especially difficult for naturally forthcoming Stevie.

Wiping her cheeks with the paper towel, she nodded. “Especially with Jenny and Tess. They’re my best friends and we tell each other everything. Or we always have until now. But Tess is busy planning her wedding and Jenny and Gavin have been trying to get pregnant ever since they got married. How can I tell her that I accidentally got knocked up by a guy she never really liked all that much, anyway?”

He filled a glass with water and handed it to her without comment. She accepted it with a nod of thanks and took a few sips. He was relieved to note that the color was returning to her face, that her hand was steadier when she set the glass on the counter.

She drew a deep, unsteady breath before speaking again. “It was after Christmas when I first suspected I was pregnant, but another couple of weeks before I let myself believe it.”

“Had to have been a shock to you.” It had certainly stunned him.

“To say the least. I felt obligated to call Joe, but he made it clear he won’t be involved, so I’m on my own, which is fine with me since I’m not interested in seeing him again. I mean, yeah, it was irresponsible of me, but I’m thirty-one, you know? I’ll be thirty-two in May. I’ve always thought I’d have a baby someday, and this could be my best chance. I’ve completely sworn off stupid fairy-tale fantasies for the future. It’s taken me way too long and too many heartaches to figure out that I have not a shred of good judgment when it comes to romance. I’ve always been drawn to the guys who are the least likely to settle down, and I’ve always ended up on the losing end. No more. I’ll figure out a way to raise this child on my own. Sure, it’ll be tough making my schedule work out for the next few months and budgeting my savings to tide us over during the time I’ll have to take off for maternity leave. I mean, my business is still pretty new and this is like the worst time to try to juggle contracts and finances and time off, but somehow I’ll—”

“More water?” He motioned toward the glass as her nervous babbling threatened to lead to tears again. It was obvious she was on to him.

Drawing in another long breath, she smiled a bit wryly as she shook her head. Dusty wound around her ankles and she reached down to give the cat an absent stroke before straightening to speak more calmly again. “So, here I am. Single and pregnant, just like my mother was twice in two years with my brother and then me. I haven’t been sick a day and my doctor says I’m very healthy and so is the baby. I guess hormones just got the best of me tonight. I’ll be fine, really.”

“I have no doubt of it,” he said. “You’ll be a good mother.”

She moistened her lips. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” She should know by now that he didn’t say things he didn’t mean.

Her smile was sweetly tremulous. “Thank you, Cole. For the dinner, for letting me cry all over you, for being such a good friend. And now I really am going to leave so you can rest.”

A good friend. He could be that for her.

He wasn’t entirely sure she should be alone in her agitated mood, but he figured she would decline if he tried again to detain her. So he merely nodded and said, “I’ll walk you home.”

Tossing the crumpled paper towel into the trash, she glanced over her shoulder with a lifted eyebrow. “Since when do you need to walk me next door?”

“Since there’s ice all over the walkway and you’re pregnant,” he replied bluntly. “I want to make sure you don’t fall.”

“It’s not necessary, but I can see you’re going to insist.” Her smile looked a bit more natural now, though still not the high-wattage grin he associated with her.

With a faint smile in return, he nodded. “You’re right. I am.”

Minutes later, bundled into their coats, they walked out into what amounted to an Arkansas blizzard. Snow fell so hard he could hardly see Stevie’s white house on the big corner lot next door. The ground was already covered and no cars drove down the street, most of the locals having taken the advice of forecasters and burrowed safely into their homes for the night.

It wouldn’t stay this peaceful, of course. He’d bet the generally well-behaved but exuberant Bristol kids across the street would be out playing in the snow as soon as their mom gave them permission. Snow days were always a rare treat around here, even though they proved a headache for road crews and first responders.

He kept his gaze trained on Stevie as they stepped off his porch. Her disposition changed the moment they moved out into the winter storm. She couldn’t seem to resist turning her face up to let the snow fall against her cheeks. The security lamps above them provided just enough light for Cole to see the white flakes glittering on her skin and in her golden curls. With her signature musical laugh, she held out her arms and turned in a little circle, her shoes crunching on the thin layer of ice beneath the accumulating snow. Bemused by her mercurial mood shifts, and well aware they had more to do with her unique personality than to fluctuating hormones, he chuckled and caught her arm to make sure she didn’t fall.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked with a sigh, wrapping her hands around his arm and smiling companionably up at him.

“Very.”

Her lashes fluttered, though he wasn’t sure whether that was due to the snow or his husky tone. He cleared his throat. He must be more tired than he’d realized, or more shaken than he’d have expected by Stevie’s bombshell. Whatever the reason, he found himself wanting to prolong this cozy walk in the snowy night with Stevie tucked close to his side, breath clouds mingling and drifting in the air in front of them. For the second time in just over an hour, he felt almost as if he’d stepped into one of his private fantasies. He was glad mind reading wasn’t among Stevie McLane’s many talents. He wasn’t sure how she’d react to knowing that just watching her catching a snowflake on her tongue sent his imagination down a path much more hazardous than the one on which they walked.

Burying those uncomfortable thoughts deep inside his mind, he made an effort to keep his expression blandly friendly until they were on her small porch. She unlocked the front door she’d painted bright blue to match the shutters. One hand on the knob, she smiled up at him. “Okay, I’m safely home. You can relax.”

He searched her face in the soft glow of her porch light. “You’re sure you’re okay? If you need anything else this evening, even if just to talk more, I’m available.”

In a gesture that was both impulsive and entirely characteristic, she wrapped her arms around his waist for a hug. “Thank you,” she said. “You’re a very nice man, Cole McKellar.”

A very nice man. As flattering as her comments were, they were hardly the words she’d have whispered in one of those steamy daydreams. Giving himself a mental slap, he returned his friend’s hug with a brief squeeze before stepping back. “Good night, Stevie. Call if you need me.”

She opened her door. “Good night, Cole.”

He stepped down from the little porch into the falling snow, which was already hiding the footprints they’d left on the way. He’d taken only a step when something made him turn back around. “Stevie?”

She paused in the act of closing the door. “Yes?”

“You aren’t alone.”

With that blurted promise, he turned and headed home, his head down, his fists shoved into the pockets of his coat. He’d taken quite a few steps by the time he heard Stevie close her door.

Chapter Two

Stevie woke late Saturday morning feeling more positive than she had since she first suspected she was pregnant. She wandered to her bedroom window to look over an expanse of glittering snow toward Cole’s house. Simply sharing her predicament with him last night had seemed to take a load off her shoulders.

You aren’t alone. She could still hear the echo of his deep voice. The words had lulled her to sleep last night, and were still drifting through her mind when she’d awakened. She couldn’t begin to express how much it had meant to her to hear them.

Cole was such a great guy. Quiet, but with his own sly sense of humor. Fascinatingly intelligent, in a math-ish sort of way. And completely nonjudgmental, a particularly appealing trait at the moment.

A habitual matchmaker for her friends, she’d occasionally tried to think of someone who’d be a good match for this supernice man, but for some reason she could never come up with anyone who seemed just right for him. A secret part of her had acknowledged on occasion that she’d selfishly wanted to keep him to herself. She had pushed that unsettling voice aside, reminding herself that she’d been in no position to make a play for Cole even if he’d encouraged her.

She wasn’t even sure he’d dated seriously in the year she’d known him, though he went out sometimes in the evenings, casually alluding to gatherings with friends. He didn’t talk about his late wife much, but on those rare occasions his face warmed and softened. She could tell he had truly loved her. Natasha had been gone for several years, but maybe he still mourned her too deeply to be interested in a new relationship. It was hard to be sure with Cole. He tended to keep his deepest emotions to himself.

It made her sad to think of him still grieving, unwilling or unable to fall in love again. Only because he was her friend and she wanted all her friends to be happy, she assured herself. Still, he seemed content with his home, a job he enjoyed and the friends she hadn’t met, so maybe that was enough for him.

She dressed in jeans and a multicolored sweater with colorfully striped knee socks, figuring she’d be out in the cold at some point. As had been her habit the past couple weeks, she turned sideways in front of the mirror to check her figure. Her jeans were getting a little snug in the waist and her bras were a bit tight on her already-generous bustline, but she doubted even her closest friends would be able to guess her condition by looking at her.

She must tell Tess and Jenny soon. She felt incredibly guilty that she hadn’t already, even more than not having told her mother and brother. Her two closest friends would forgive her, would even understand why she’d kept her secret for so long, but she wouldn’t blame them if they were a bit hurt, at least at first. Especially Jenny, who’d been her best friend since their school days. They’d met Tess almost two years ago and they’d been a tight trio ever since, though they couldn’t spend quite as much time together now that Jenny was married and Tess was busily planning a June wedding.

Being human, after all, and the most unabashedly romantic of the small group, Stevie couldn’t help feeling a little envious that both Jenny and Tess had found the loves of their lives while her own romances always fizzled. Perhaps she’d been destined all along to follow in her mother’s self-reliant footsteps. Was it in her genes to habitually fall for the men who were least likely to settle down to marriage and families?

Shaking her head in exasperation, she turned away from the window.

After eating breakfast, she went into a spare bedroom she used as a home office. Sitting at her desk, she thought of Cole. Like him, she worked from home a lot, but she also leased a small office in a midtown strip center, though most of her work hours were spent in on-site meetings with clients. She was glad she had a third bedroom so she wouldn’t lose her office when the baby came.

She’d been at it only an hour when she was interrupted by the chime of the doorbell. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was just after eleven. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Thinking Cole had come over to check on her, she opened the door with an eager smile that wavered only a little when she saw the caller.

“Hi, guys, what’s up?” she asked the three pink-cheeked, heavily bundled kids grinning up at her. The Bristol siblings were cute little peas from the same pod, all red-haired, green-eyed and snub-nosed. The boys, Leo and Asher, were nine and seven. Charlotte was five. Baby sister Everly—the “surprise baby,” according to their mother, Lori—was presumably at home with their mom. A rather chaotic pathway of little footprints in the snow led from their house across the cul-de-sac to Stevie’s small porch.

“Can you come out and help us build a snowman, Miss Stevie?” Charlotte asked with wide, hopeful eyes. “Mommy’s taking care of Everly and Daddy’s at work.”

She wasn’t surprised by the request. Since the baby’s birth six months ago, she’d played with them several times to give their somewhat harried mother a few minutes to rest on days when her firefighter husband was on twenty-four-hour shifts. They’d thrown basketballs at the hoop mounted above their garage door, played tag and catch, even sat at the picnic table in their backyard with board games. Lori had been almost tearfully grateful for the breaks, but Stevie never minded. She liked kids, particularly these funny and well-behaved siblings.

“Give me five minutes to bundle up and I’ll join you in your yard.”

The children cheered happily.

“Leo, hold Charlotte’s hand on the way back across the street,” she instructed. “And look both ways before you cross.”

Leo made an exaggerated show of taking his little sister’s hand to lead her across the empty street to their own yard. Smiling, Stevie closed her door and turned toward the bedroom.

Half an hour later, she was breathless and covered with snow from the bright blue knit cap on her head to the waterproof pink boots into which she’d tucked her jeans. Her hooded jacket was yellow, her gloves the same blue as her hat. Charlotte told her she looked like she was wearing a rainbow. Laughing, Stevie showed her how to make a snow angel, adding to her frosty coating.

With the thin layer of sleet beneath, the snow crunched when they played in it. Gray clouds hung low above them, but happy laughter reigned in the Bristol’s front yard. From inside the warm house, Lori and baby Everly appeared occasionally in a window to watch, and Stevie waved to them. Next year that little angel, too, would be out playing in the snow. And she would have a baby of her own to watch, she realized with a hard thump of her heart. To soothe the fresh attack of nerves, she focused on the Bristol kids.

The boys had nearly cleared the front lawn of packable snow in the quest to make their snowman “supersized.” It was so big that Stevie was elected to lift the giant head onto the body. She drew a deep breath and prepared to give it her best shot. Two strong, black-gloved hands came from behind her to offer assistance. She looked over her shoulder and smiled when she saw Cole standing there. He wore a black watchman cap over his thick dark hair, a black jacket and black boots—a more somber, coordinated ensemble than her own.

His chocolate eyes gleamed with amusement as he grinned down at her. “Need a hand?”

“Or two,” she agreed. “These kids like their snowmen on the larger side.”

“We’re building a snow giant!” Asher exclaimed eagerly, carrying a large stick he’d found in the backyard. “This can be one of his arms. Leo’s looking for another.”

With Cole’s help, they made short work of completing their snow friend, accessorizing with a battered ball cap and frayed scarf donated by Lori. They created facial features with decorative river rocks filched from the flower beds. It had started to snow again, to the children’s delight. Another half inch was predicted on top of the six inches that had collected during the night. Stevie figured the snowman would survive a day or two before the warmer temperatures forecast for later in the week melted him away.

After being summoned for lunch by their mother, the siblings politely thanked Stevie and Cole for their assistance in building “the best snowman ever!” They tramped reluctantly inside their house when their mother called out again. Stevie grimaced sympathetically as she imagined the wet mess of clothing and puddles Lori would deal with, but maybe the busy mom would consider it a fair trade-off for the hour of volunteer babysitting. From the open doorway, with Everly on her hip, she called out an offer of hot chocolate, but they declined cordially.

“Though, actually, hot chocolate sounds like a good idea,” Stevie confided to Cole as they tramped across the street. She wiped snowflakes from her eyelashes with the back of one damp glove. “I’m freezing.”

“Your jeans are wet from rolling around in the snow with Charlotte. You should get into dry clothes.”

She noted he’d stayed much drier, maybe because he’d been a little less enthusiastic about getting down in the snow, she admitted with a grin.

“Come in, if you have time,” she said, motioning toward her house. “I make a mean mug of cocoa.”

“That sounds really—”

His right foot slipped on a slick spot on her driveway. Flailing comically, he went down flat on his back in the snow. Stevie almost burst into laughter at the funny expression he made as he lay there, but she managed to contain her amusement to a grin.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, though she could tell at a glance that he’d damaged only his pride.

Very deliberately, he spread his arms and legs into Vs, then climbed to his feet, surveying the resulting snow angel with a nod of satisfaction. “I meant to do that.”

Delighted by his quick wit, she laughed and tucked a hand companionably beneath his arm. “Let’s go get warm.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said, covering her hand with his own. And though they both wore gloves, she could still feel the warmth of his touch spreading through her.

* * *

Having shed their wet boots on the porch, Cole insisted that Stevie change into dry clothes before she played hostess. She left him to wash up in the guest bath while she ducked into her bedroom to change into a loose sweater and leggings. Fluffing her curls with her hands, she gave herself a quick once-over in the full-length, silver-framed, art deco mirror that coordinated with her sage, silver and cream French deco bedroom furnishings. Her cheeks and nose were still pink from the cold but she resisted an impulse to touch up her minimal makeup for her guest’s benefit. After all, it was just Cole, right?

Her country French kitchen was her favorite room in the house. The walls were warm sage, the cabinets knotty pecan with leaded glass inserts, the counters brown-and-tan granite with antique bronze hardware. Cole joined her there, looking casually at ease in his sweater, jeans and wool socks. His dark hair was disheveled from the hat he’d removed, and her fingers itched with a sudden urge to play in those thick, unruly waves. She opened the refrigerator instead. “How about a sandwich before we drink our cocoa? Playing in the snow always gives me an appetite.”

“Sounds good, if it’s not too much trouble. What can I do to help?”

When they sat down to lunch, to her relief, he didn’t bring up her pregnancy. He merely ate his grilled cheddar-and-tomato sandwiches and munched salt-and-vinegar chips while she babbled nervously about everything and anything—except her predicament.

After the dishes were cleared away, they moved to the living room with steaming cups of cocoa topped with marshmallows. She’d indulged her love of eclectic European and American deco design in here, too. Flames crackled among the gas logs in the fireplace framed in white-painted carved wood, spreading warmth through the room. With her feet curled comfortably beneath her, she sat on the dove-gray couch that faced the fireplace. Cole had settled in a tapestry armchair near her end of the couch. She couldn’t help admiring the way the firelight brought out the highlights in his hair.

“I’ve always liked this room,” he commented, stretching his legs in front of him toward the fire. “It always impresses me that it can look so classy yet still be so comfortable. Not fussy and formal like some people’s decorated places.”

Pleased by the comments, she beamed. “That’s exactly what I aim for in my decorating. Stylish, but welcoming. Home design is meant to be enjoyed. Lived in, not just admired or photographed.”