First Comes Baby...: The Loner's Guarded Heart by Michelle Douglas Page B

into her fingers.
    ‘Madonna, huh?’ He grinned but it didn’t hide his discomfort.
    ‘Yup.’ She grinned back but she doubted it hid her tension, her uneasiness either.
    He glanced around. ‘We never sat in here when we were growing up.’
    ‘No.’ When they’d been growing up this had definitely been adult territory. When indoors, they’d stuck to the kitchen and the family room. ‘But this is my house now and I can sit where I please.’
    He didn’t look convinced. Tension kept his spine straight and his shoulders tight. Last week she’d have risen and led him through to the family room, where he’d feel more comfortable. This week...?
    She lifted her chin. This week making Ben comfortable was the last thing on her agenda. That knowledge made her stomach churn and bile rise in her throat. It didn’t mean she wanted to make him un comfortable, though.
    She cleared her throat. ‘Have a look out of the front window.’
    After a momentary hesitation he did as she ordered.
    ‘It has the most divine view of the bay. I find that peaceful. When the wind is up you can hear the waves breaking on shore.’
    ‘And that’s a sound you’ve always loved.’ He settled on the pristine white leather sofa. ‘And you can hear it best in here.’
    And in the front bedroom. She didn’t mention that, though. Mentioning bedrooms to Ben didn’t seem wise. Which was crazy. But...
    She glanced at him and her pulse sped up and her skin prickled. That was what was crazy. He sprawled against the sofa with that easy, long-limbed grace of his, one arm resting along the back of the sofa as if in invitation. Her crochet needle trembled.
    She dragged her gaze away and set her crochet work to one side. Her life was in turmoil. That was all this was—a reaction to all the changes happening in her life. The fact she had a baby on the way. The fact her father was marrying Elsie. The fact Ben claimed he wanted to be a father.
    Ben nodded towards the wool. ‘What are you doing?’
    She had to moisten her lips before she could speak. ‘I’m making a shawl for the baby.’
    She laid the work out for him to see and he stared at it as if fascinated. When he glanced up at her, the warmth in those blue eyes caressed her.
    ‘You can knit?’
    She pretended to preen. ‘Why, yes, I can, now that you mention it. Knitting clubs were more popular than book clubs around here for a while. But this isn’t knitting—it’s crochet, and I’m in the process of mastering the art.’
    He frowned. And then he straightened. ‘Why? Are you trying to save money?’
    She folded her arms. That didn’t deserve an answer.
    His eyes narrowed. ‘Or is this what your social life had descended to?’
    If she could have kept a straight face she’d have let him go on believing that. It would be one seriously scary picture of life here in Fingal Bay for him to chew over. One he’d probably run from kicking and screaming. But she couldn’t keep a straight face.
    He leant back, his shoulders loosening, his grin hooking up one side of his face in that slow, melt-a-woman-to-her-core way he had. ‘Okay, just call me an idiot.’
    If she’s had any breath left in her lungs she might have done exactly that. Only that grin of his had knocked all the spare oxygen out of her body.
    ‘Your social life is obviously full. I’ve barely clapped eyes on you these last few days.’
    Had he wanted to? The thought made her heart skip and stutter a little faster.
    Stop being stupid! ‘It’s full enough for me.’ She didn’t tell him that Monday night had been an antenatal class, or that last night she’d cooked dinner for Ally, who was recovering from knee surgery. Ben’s social life consisted of partying hard and having a good time, not preparing for babies or looking after friends.
    Ben’s life revolved around adrenaline junkie thrills, drinking hard and chasing women. She wondered why he wasn’t out with that sexy brunette this evening—the one he’d obviously