She knew the exact second that realization dawned on him. Knew, too, that he’d probably read the truth in her expression.

The timing had been right when she’d been on the boat with Brett. If she were a woman who ovulated normally, she could have conceived...

Afraid she might be sick again, she leaned her head back against the wall and said, “It’s not what you think.”

She wouldn’t have blamed him if he walked out on her. She’d been free to sleep with Brett. But when Jason had asked her if she’d been in a relationship recently, she’d told him the truth. That she hadn’t.

“I’m assuming this is why you’ve wanted to go slowly with us? Because there’s someone else?”

She didn’t hear any recrimination in his voice.

“There is no one else.” But yes, the fact that she’d slept with her ex-husband seven weeks and six days ago did probably sway her decision to take things slowly with Jason. Mostly, it had been the fact that she was still in love with Brett that had done it, though. And sitting there on the bathroom floor, Ella told Jason about Brett. The divorce. And his recent advent into her life. When Jason reached out a hand to her, suggesting with more kindness than she felt she deserved, that they go do a blood test, Ella had a feeling, as she knew he did, that they weren’t going to get the answer they wanted.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

OH, GOD. SHE was pregnant. For the second day in a row, Ella took half a day’s leave and left work before she was scheduled. She didn’t go anywhere in particular. Just drove around.

Alone.

Jason had asked if she wanted company. He’d offered to spend the evening with her. But she had a feeling he was going to be distancing himself from her life fairly quickly.

He was a good guy. He’d be a friend.

But he didn’t want children of his own, let alone another man’s child.

And that other man—the one whose child this was—didn’t want anyone.

* * *

SHE ENDED UP at the beach. She’d driven by The Lemonade Stand. Needing to go in. To see Chloe. The place was crawling with compassionate women and she needed someone to talk to.

She’d even settle for Lila McDaniels. Would prefer the older woman, actually, with her quiet, but firm, motherly way.

Ella’s nerves needed a firm talking-to.

But she couldn’t tell anyone else until Brett knew.

She’d already made an appointment with an obstetrician she knew from the hospital for Monday—having explained her situation. Her hormonal imbalance. The loss of her first child. The woman had worked her in.

She’d had a doctor’s confirmation. She was pregnant.

At the moment, all that made her feel was fear.

She was all alone.

What if something happened and she lost this baby, too?

Shaking, she stared at the ocean. Jason had assured her that if her body had reversed itself, there was every chance she could carry this baby to term.

This baby. She was pregnant.

She, Ella Ackerman, was going to be a mama.

If all went well.

And...Brett...

She had to tell him. Right away. But she wanted nothing from him. And was clear on one thing. She wasn’t going to give him the chance to reject their baby a second time.

* * *

BRETT HAD NO idea why Ella wanted to see him. But he didn’t ask her any questions, either, when she texted him on a Friday afternoon eight weeks after their weekend at the cabin and asked if she could see him right away.

He assumed it had to do with Chloe. She was supposed to be taking Chloe to Palm Desert to meet with Jeff the following week. But hadn’t liked the idea of a meeting so soon after Jeff’s explosion. Maybe she’d talked Chloe into waiting.

Still, a phone call would have done in that case. What could she have to talk about that had to be done in person? Ella had asked if they could meet at his place. Out by the pool. She’d said it made her feel good out there. Peaceful.

He was expecting her at six. By quarter to he was pacing. The tea was freshly brewed. With lemon. But there was a bottle of wine chilling, too.

For the first time in history, he’d cut out of a board meeting before its conclusion when her text had come through late that afternoon. The meeting was continuing the next day, and there’d be a full video transcript. He’d wanted time to change out of his suit into khakis and a polo shirt. He always ended up acting like a stuffed shirt around her.

Probably made her uncomfortable.

Was she coming to tell him she was ready to have a purely physical relationship? That it hadn’t worked out with her doctor friend?

Or that it had and she was getting married again?

Maybe it had nothing to do with them at all.

She hadn’t bought a house yet. Had she decided not to stay in Santa Raquel after all?

He wanted a beer.

But had sworn off beer after that night on the boat. Though he’d only had three drinks that night, he’d made a mistake in sleeping with Ella.

He’d known that she couldn’t make love with him without investing part of her heart.

He’d known and done it anyway. Because he’d wanted to touch the heart of her one more time.

It hadn’t been fair to her.

And if she’d give him a chance, he’d apologize...

The doorbell rang.

Brett was ready.

* * *

HE WASN’T READY. Studying the staunch expression on Ella’s face, unable to glean even a hint of what was going on with her, he started to panic.

Like he hadn’t panicked since high school.

She sat across from him at the table by his pool, sipping tea. In black pants and matching black-and-white tweed jacket with silk trim. Looking professional and gorgeous and untouchable all rolled into one. Had she carried the clothes to work or gone home to change before meeting him?

“I need to talk to you,” she said, obviously uncomfortable.

“That’s what you said.”

He’d like to believe her odd tension was just nerves, but didn’t think so.

“I... Something has been on my mind, Brett, and I need it cleared up.”

Why did he have the feeling that hadn’t been what she’d planned to say? Breathing more normally now, Brett said, “I’ll do what I can.”

“That weekend...when we were on the boat...”

So this was about sex! If she was ready all she had to do was say so. Should he make it easy for her?

“You drew a correlation between your dad and you. Talked about how your parents vowed to keep violence out of their home—trusting each other to do so because they both came from violence and knew how damaging it was.”

He remembered Ella reacting strangely when he’d said that. As if she’d finally understood something.

Remembered, too, specifically not asking her about it.

He hadn’t wanted to know, then. And didn’t want to know now, either.

She didn’t seem all that surprised by his lack of response. Or deterred by it, either.

She also wasn’t drinking much of her tea.

“You said that I’d quit really listening to you. That I patted you on the head when you tried to talk to me about your fears. And so you quit talking.”

He nodded, feeling far too much at the moment. He wasn’t good at being vulnerable.

“Tell me how you felt, Brett. Really felt. When you came home that day and found out you were going to be a father.”

“Why?” He’d spewed his frustration at her. His tension. He’d told her he wasn’t like her. Wasn’t ecstatic. Wasn’t even happy about it. He’d accused her of never stopping to find out what he wanted. Somehow blaming her for his inability to celebrate with her.

The past was past. He wanted to leave it there.

But sitting there on his patio with Ella, noticing how much better it felt having her in his space than occupying it alone, it hit him why she was there. She’d come to him looking for a way to leave the past behind her and be free to love another man.