Her Secret, His Baby. Tanya Michaels
away from the curious ears of students or fellow teachers.
“But he’s here! Why is he here?”
“Um, didn’t you say you met him because he was in town for a good friend’s wedding? Makes sense that he’d occasionally visit said friend. The part I can’t believe is that you saw him Sunday, yet waited until Tuesday to let me know.”
“Because I spent yesterday in denial,” Arden mumbled. She’d never been comfortable discussing her night with Garrett. It had felt so private, something meant only to be between them. Maybe if she’d known Layla back then, or if Natalie had still been alive... “Am I being punished for having a one-night stand? Am I a bad person?”
“Don’t start pinning those scarlet A’s on your maternity clothes just yet. The fact that you’d only been with two men up until then is pretty solid evidence you’re not a tramp.”
“No, the fact that there had only been two previous lovers in my life is evidence that I have very large, very overprotective brothers,” Arden said without rancor. Her brothers’ local influence had probably helped prevent some impulsive mistakes in her teens. She nervously twisted the cord on the phone. “I think Justin suspects Garrett is the father. What if Garrett suspects as much?” So many emotions had rampaged through her when she’d seen him. She hadn’t exactly maintained a poker face.
“Did he give you any reason to think that?”
“Not really. He was making small talk. I was busy freaking out.”
“Then let’s not borrow trouble,” Layla advised. “Are you going to—”
“Oops, work beckons,” Arden interrupted as the door to her studio swung open. “Maybe we can meet for dinner?”
“I don’t know. I’ve got a stack of practice tests I have to grade so I can figure out how much my students forgot over the summer and plan accordingly. But give me a few hours to talk myself into it, and I’ll text you later.”
Arden disconnected, calling out, “Be with you in a second.”
Over the summer, Layla had acted briefly as receptionist, but for the most part, Arden had always run a one-woman shop. She didn’t get many random drop-ins. Customers usually called or emailed to schedule an appointment or, in the case of big events, to ask preliminary questions and do price comparisons.
Coming around the edge of her desk, she steadied herself with her hand. She was constantly readjusting to her ever-changing center of gravity.
“Hope I’m not interrupting your work.” That smooth deep voice was exactly the same as it had been the first time he’d spoken to her, sending tremors through her body. Garrett Frost stood in the center of her reception area, cowboy hat in hand, an unreadable expression on his face.
Adrenaline surged, making her head swim. “Garrett.” Her hands moved reflexively to cover the baby bump. That happened a lot lately when she was apprehensive.
He misinterpreted the protective gesture. “If you’re trying to hide that you’re expecting, it’s a little late.”
“I...I...” Say something. Preferably something intelligent. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
It wasn’t until he shook his head that she realized she hadn’t brewed any. She’d given it up during the pregnancy and hadn’t been expecting clients for another few hours. Thank goodness he hadn’t taken her up on the offer—her pride balked at the idea of making herself seem more ridiculous. She hadn’t exactly been articulate at the grocery store.
“I’m sorry I was rude the other day,” she said. “You took me by surprise. It was a shock, running in to you there.”
“You weren’t the only one stunned,” he said pointedly. His gaze dropped before returning to her face.
“So, uh, how’d you find my office? Did your friend Hugh mention I was in this shopping center? I hope he and his wife are doing well.” Her pulse was racing, and she heard her babbled words as though from a distance.
“Actually, I looked you up myself. Knowing your name and that you owned a photography studio was enough. It’s not difficult to find someone, if you bother to look.” His gray eyes were like thunderclouds. “If, for instance, a woman needed to locate a man, even one in a different town. I don’t think there are many Garrett Frosts who are part owners of Colorado cattle ranches, but maybe I’m wrong. What do you think, Arden?”
She swallowed, knowing that his real question had nothing to do with addresses or phone books. He was asking if his suspicions were accurate, and she couldn’t bring herself to answer. There was a huge difference between not tracking down a man to deliver life-altering news he probably didn’t want to hear and actually lying to his face.
He took a step closer. “You seemed so startled to see me the other day. Terrified, as a matter of fact.”
Feeling cornered, she took deep breaths, trying to lower her elevated blood pressure.
“Maybe I’m completely off base,” he continued, “but extenuating circumstances have made me more distrustful than I used to be. If I’m wrong, you can laugh at me or indignantly cuss me out. But tell me the truth, Arden. Are you carrying my child?”
Chapter Four
Garrett had mentally rehearsed different ways this confrontation could play out—from her scoffing at his ludicrous accusation to her tearfully confessing all and begging his forgiveness. But he hadn’t imagined her collapsing.
Her eyes rolled upward and she crumpled in on herself.
“Arden!”
He bolted toward her with just enough time to get his arms around her before she fell. What was he thinking, intimidating a pregnant woman? What if he’d caused harm to her or the baby? He lowered himself to the floor awkwardly, supporting her weight as he cradled her against his chest.
She blinked up at him, and it was such a relief to see those blue-green eyes open. At least she was conscious, although her chest rose and fell with alarmingly rapid exhalations. “G-Gar—”
“Shhh. Catch your breath first.” He stroked her hair back from her pale face, feeling like an ogre. If he was right about the baby, then Arden owed him a major apology, but no matter how angry he was, he never would have deliberately hurt her.
She raised one shaky hand to press against her heart, her expression pained. “Water?”
He shrugged out of the lightweight denim jacket he’d been wearing, rolling it up as a makeshift pillow beneath her head. There was a water dispenser in the corner of the room, and he half filled a paper cup. “You have a history of fainting?” he asked. Maybe if this was something that happened routinely, he wouldn’t feel like such a bastard.
“Only twice.” She sipped her water, her words halting. “Overheated camping. Blacked out another time. When...I got bad news.”
He wasn’t sure whether this technically counted as fainting—had she lost consciousness completely? Was there a chance it would happen again when she was alone? “Should we get you to a doctor?”
She bit her lip, still struggling to breathe normally. “Probab— Probably overkill, but... The baby.” Her eyes filled with tears, the palpable fear in her gaze knifing through him.
“Better safe than sorry.” He helped her to her feet, noting her rocky balance.
“We have to lock up,” she said. “Keys in my purse. Second desk drawer.”
He got everything she asked for, then helped her out to the truck. She leaned against the seat, eyes closed. There was a lot they needed to say to each other, but it was challenge enough for her to give him rudimentary directions to the hospital.
The emergency room was fairly empty on a Tuesday afternoon. A mother sat in the far corner trying