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The Prodigal Bride
Beth Cornelison








The

Prodigal Bride


Beth Cornelison




























www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Table of Contents


Cover (#ub5071225-1c15-5c75-916c-2717ff578be3)

Title Page (#uc0d68c85-d274-5957-861c-1b8357047d38)

About the Author (#u371f5d10-f271-59aa-9408-491f4259fde7)

Dedication (#u553c47f9-a2ff-5f33-811f-b393c4ce0c45)

Chapter One (#uc91d4029-e61d-5bfc-bb15-d8d06a6c37b7)

Chapter Two (#u69189f77-7329-5c38-811c-ffc9b3e371d8)

Chapter Three (#u58d4c08f-085d-5170-ab2d-a14f7cbda05d)

Chapter Four (#u00388e68-9453-5bcf-8346-3cae59adf89d)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




About the Author


BETH CORNELISON started writing stories as a child when she penned a tale about the adventures of her cat, Ajax. A Georgia native, she received her bachelor’s degree in public relations from the University of Georgia. After working in public relations for a little more than a year, she moved with her husband to Louisiana, where she decided to pursue her love of writing fiction.

Since that first time, Beth has written many more stories of adventure and romantic suspense and has won numerous honours for her work, including a coveted Golden Heart award in romantic suspense from Romance Writers of America. She is active on the board of directors for the North Louisiana Storytellers and Authors of Romance (NOLA STARS) and loves reading, traveling, Peanuts’ Snoopy and spending downtime with her family.

She writes from her home in Louisiana, where she lives with her husband, one son and two cats who think they are people. Beth loves to hear from her readers. You can write to her at PO Box 5418, Bossier City, LA 71171, USA or visit her website at www.bethcornelison.com.


To Paul, who has been my best friend and my Valentine for twenty-five years.

Thanks to Rani Ogitani for lending her name—again—to the babysitter in this book, a character you first met in Tall Dark Defender. Rani won the auction for this opportunity through Brenda Novak’s Diabetes Auction, held each year in May. Keep an eye out at this year’s auction for your chance to be a character in an upcoming book!




Chapter 1


Pregnant.

Zoey Bancroft stared at the pink plus sign on the test stick, and her world tilted. She was going to have Derek’s baby.

“Leapin’ lizards,” she muttered, her favorite expression since she’d starred as Annie in her junior high school’s production of the musical. She sank onto the edge of the Las Vegas motel bathtub and pressed a shaky hand to her swirling stomach. So maybe her nausea wasn’t from a bad burrito after all. Sucking in a slow deep breath, she tried to wrap her brain around the truth.

Pregnant. Judging by the date of her last period, she had to be two months along. And how do you feel about this? she imagined her sister Holly asking her.

Stunned. Confused. Scared.

And alone. Derek had made a hasty retreat when she’d suggested she might be carrying his child. The jerk. She’d believed in him, sacrificed for him, shared herself with him. But when she needed him most, he’d left her, unwilling to take responsibility for his child.

The whoosh of blood filled Zoey’s ears. Again her world tipped, until it listed precariously over a black void. A flutter of panic beat its wings in her chest. She’d believed Derek was her future. She’d thought herself in love with him, an illusion that had begun cracking weeks ago. What she’d wanted to believe was love, she saw now, had just been a fantasy, just the latest wrong turn in her search for her place in the world. Derek had left her dangling over this fathomless pit of isolation and fear. How could she have been so blind?

Her father had been right about Derek. She’d argued with her father, severed ties with her family and defended Derek and her choice to travel the country with him as he competed in poker tournaments, hoping for his big break. Dejection and regret settled in her chest like a cold rock when she saw how wrong she’d been to trust Derek. He’d used her, strung her along, dumped her when her money ran out and the chips were down. Just as her father had predicted.

She frowned as she stared in the mirror on the back of the bathroom door. The green-eyed reflection gazing back at her sought answers she didn’t have. Her appearance wasn’t substantially different from normal. She didn’t look like she thought a mother-to-be should. Instead of a healthy glow, her freckled cheeks seemed pale in the harsh fluorescent light. But wan complexion aside, the auburn-haired woman who stared back at her was the same lost-and-searching soul who’d been looking for herself, auditioning different life roles for all of her twenty-four years. She huffed her disgust.

Another screwup. How typical of you.

Okay, this baby wasn’t planned, but it didn’t have to be a problem. Shaking off the self-censure, Zoey took a deep breath. Babies were good. She liked babies. She could take care of a baby … even if she was alone. Wisps of apprehension tickled the back of her neck. Could she do this alone?

She conjured an image of the people she loved most, people she’d depended on in the past—her parents, her sisters … her best friend, Gage.

Maybe her horrible blindness and subsequent fight with her parents over Derek meant she was estranged from her family, but ever since they’d became friends in junior high, Gage had always been there for her. She didn’t know what she was going to do with her life now, but she knew who had her back. She knew who she would call …

On the back porch of Gage Powell’s Lagniappe, Louisiana, home, the cordless phone he’d set on the umbrella table trilled in the fading autumn sunshine. Gage propped his rake against the trunk of the large oak and jogged toward the porch.

“G-Gage?” the female caller rasped when he answered. The woman’s voice was choked with tears. Tears usually meant the caller was his older sister. But the voice wasn’t Elaine’s.

“Yeah?”

“He left me. I told him about the baby, and he left me!”

Once she spoke again, Gage recognized the voice, even through the muffle of tears. Instantly he jerked to attention, his body humming and his heart thudding like it had the first day he’d met her in junior high school.

Zoey Bancroft. His best friend. First lover. Secret love.

Fiery auburn hair and a personality to match. His heart ached picturing tear tracks on her beautiful freckled cheeks, her green eyes red from crying.

With a glance to the yard to check on his niece, Pet, who was still playing on the swing set he’d finished assembling last weekend, Gage sank onto a patio chair. “Zee, what’s going on? Who left? What baby?”

She sniffled loudly. “He told me he didn’t want a baby, and if I kept it, he was outta there. Can you believe he’d say something so awful?”

A chill washed through Gage. “Back up, Zee. Are you saying you’re pregnant?”

“Yes,” she squeaked. “And alone. Derek left.”

Derek. Gage curled his fingers into fists and gritted his teeth. He’d known the guy was no good, would end up hurting Zoey. But Gage had tried to be supportive, tried to keep his mouth shut when Zoey gushed in her random phone calls about the guy’s poker tourneys and their life on the road.

Zoey’s father had tried to warn her what kind of cretin Derek was, and the resulting argument had caused a rift in the Bancroft family that had lasted more than two years. Zoey had even missed her sister Paige’s wedding earlier this summer. Paige’s almost wedding. But then Gage was just as glad Zoey hadn’t been in the line of fire that day …

He shook his head to clear it and focused on what Zoey was saying.

“—went down to the bank to check, and it was true! My savings is empty. My entire inheritance from Grandpa Bancroft is gone! And the balance of our checking account is a negative because of an overdraft and fines. I actually owe the bank two hundred dollars!”

Acid puddled in Gage’s gut as he sorted out what Zoey was telling him. “So … wait. You’re pregnant. And you have no money. Zero. None. Derek cleaned you out, then abandoned you?”

“Yes.” Another squeak. More sobs. “I told him the PIN for my ATM card—and yes, before you say it, in hindsight, I see that wasn’t the smartest idea. But until recently, he gave me no reason not to trust him.”

Rage, horror and grave concern swam together through Gage, leaving him shaking as he tried to absorb Zoey’s circumstances. Her zest for life, her reach-for-the-stars passion and restless energy were part of what made her so special to him. She’d imbued him with the same hopefulness and never-say-die attitude many times in high school when his circumstances made him want to give up. She’d always been a fresh breeze in his stale life.

But she’d been burning her candle from both ends so long that he’d feared eventually it would catch up with her. Just as he’d known he’d be there to help her pick up the pieces, the way she’d always been there for him. Even though they’d never lost touch throughout her travels, whenever her life was in transition, she’d come back to Lagniappe, and they would reconnect, rebuild the bond that made them such good friends. And each time she flitted off on her next exploit, his heart cracked a little more.

He drew a breath, gathering his thoughts. “Okay, don’t worry. We’ll figure this out together.”

“I hope you ate your Wheaties this morning, �cause I’m fresh outta ideas.”

His cheek twitched with a grin. At least her wry sense of humor was still in place. Her ability to make him smile in even the direst situation had helped him endure his own past crises and boded well for her resilience with her own troubles.

In his yard, Pet was kicking at the pile of leaves he’d just raked, scattering them to the four winds. He didn’t care. She was having fun.

First things first. “Where are you? Are you somewhere safe?”

“I’m at our motel, but I don’t know how long I can stay here before the manager kicks me out and demands payment for the room.”

“What motel? Where?”

“In Vegas.”

He heard a pounding in the background.

Zoey gasped. “Hang on. Someone’s at the door.” Gage heard the rustle of sheets, the creak of bedsprings. “It could be Derek. Maybe he came back to apologize—”

The hope in her voice slayed him. Her optimism was a double-edged sword. She’d kept him focused on the positive throughout high school, but it made her vulnerable to guys like Derek. Was she going to give the creep another chance? After he’d shown his stripes by leaving her, shirking his responsibility to his baby, stealing all her money? He wanted to shake Zoey. “Wait, Zee. Don’t let him in. You deserve b—”

A loud crash and Zoey’s startled scream cut him off.

Gage’s pulse leaped, and he lurched from the patio chair. “Zoey, are you there?”

“Who are you? What do you want?” Her voice sounded distant as she talked to whoever was at the door. Gage recognized the tremble of fear in her tone.

The gruff rumble of a male voice answered her, too quiet for Gage to understand.

“That’s Derek’s problem, not mine.”

Gage paced across his porch, agitation nipping him. “Zee, who is it? What’s happening?”

Another mumble of a deep voices.

“I don’t have it. No!” Her pitch rose, filling with panic. “Stop! Get out, or I’ll call the cops!”

“Zoey!” Gage yelled.

She cried out, sending Gage’s blood pressure into the stratosphere. “Zee, answer me!”

A crackling sound blasted his ear, followed by a deafening silence.

Then a dial tone.

He clutched the phone to his ear like a lifeline to her, anxiety climbing his throat. “Zoey!”

But she was gone.

He quickly punched in her cell phone number and waited while it rang … and clicked over to voice mail.

“Zoey here. You know what to do,” her message chirped in the bright, carefree tone that characterized the woman he’d fallen in love with years ago. Spontaneous. Mischievous. Full of life.

“It’s me, Zee. I’m worried about you. Call me.” His voice quaked, but he didn’t care. Zoey had seen him worse off. Much worse.

“Look at me, Uncle Gage!” Pet called from the yard.

He raised his head to find his niece hanging upside down from the swing set. His five-year-old niece was a lot like Zoey. Wild. Full of energy. Fearless.

“I’m a monkey!” the dark-haired imp giggled as she swung from the top bar.

“Be careful, Squirt. Don’t fall.” One personal emergency at a time, please.

He might be a firefighter, a first responder, handling crises in the community for a living, but in his private life, Gage could juggle only so much. Taking custody of his niece while his sister dried out and put her life back together already consumed most of his energy. Now Zoey was in trouble.

He had no use for a trip to the E.R. tonight with Pet. Been there. Done that.

Dividing his attention between the phone and his niece, Gage redialed Zoey’s number.

Again the call kicked over to her voice mail. “Zoey here. You know what to do.”

But he didn’t know. As he had much of his life, Gage felt himself sinking into uncertainty, worried about the people he loved. What was he going to do with Pet? With his sister?

And how the hell was he supposed to help Zoey?




Chapter 2


Zoey gaped at the thug who’d crushed her cell phone under his boot heel when she’d threatened to call the police. The guy wasn’t scary in the traditional sense—in fact she’d call him more goofy-looking than intimidating. He had a zigzag buzz cut and a pierced eyebrow that added to his trying-too-hard-to-look-tough appearance. No, what bothered Zoey were his arms, specifically the tracks of needle marks up and down his skin. If he was high, he could be dangerously unpredictable.

With a jerk on the cord, he disabled the motel room’s landline, as well.

How could Derek have done business with these cretins? And how could she convince them that she had no more money than Derek did to pay off Derek’s debts?

“You don’t want to call the cops, �cause that would piss me off. And I’m not someone you want pissed at you.” He aimed a finger at her and narrowed his eyes to slits. “It’s real simple. Either tell us where Derek is or give us the twenty grand he owes us.”

Zoey choked. “Twenty grand? He told me it was just a couple thousand!”

The guy who’d stomped her cell phone jammed his face in hers. “Your boyfriend lied. And the price goes up every day he’s late payin’. Interest, you know.”

His breath smelled of cinnamon gum, and Zoey pulled a face. What should have been a refreshing scent turned her stomach coming from him. “Look, Derek and I split up. Your beef with him is not my problem. I don’t have any money. He stole it all from me, so—”

A stinging smack landed on her cheek, and she gasped in shock and pain.

Mr. Cinnamon-Breath shook out the fingers in his hand. A hissing-snake tattoo on his forearm seemed to writhe as his muscles flexed. “I told you not to piss me off.”

Zoey raised her chin defiantly. He was ticking her off, too. “I don’t have—”

He grabbed her wrist and jerked her close. “Derek told us you came from money. You can get that twenty thou and a whole lot more from your family.”

A chill slithered through her. Dread knotted her gut knowing this guy would likely extort any sum of cash he could from her through fear and intimidation. Her family’s money. She couldn’t let this guy’s menace hurt her family. Squaring her shoulders, she dug deep for the courage to stand up to this bully. “My family disowned me two years ago when I hooked up with Derek. They won’t give me a cent.” She waved a hand toward the dingy motel room bed. “Do you think I’d be living like this if I had a cash flow from my parents?”

“You got credit cards, don’t you?”

“I, uh—” Her gaze darted to her purse and back, her spirits rising. Her emergency credit card! After getting in a load of debt in high school, from which her parents had had to bail her out, Zoey had sworn off credit cards, cut them up. Except for one. The emergency Visa. Well, this was an emergency, right?

Except the thug’s gaze moved to her purse, too. Uh-oh.

“Hey, Viper, a cop just pulled in up at the front office,” his cohort said from the door. “Time to go.”

Viper—his moniker no doubt the reason for his tat, or vice versa—stiffened and snapped his gaze toward the door with a grumbled curse. Returning his narrowed glare to Zoey, Viper backed toward the door. “You seem like a smart girl. Use those smarts to come up with my money. Meantime, we’ll just take this.” He grabbed her wallet—with the emergency credit card and what little cash she had—and stormed out without closing the door.

Hiccuping a half sob, Zoey slid to the floor. She touched her throbbing cheek and shivered. Cheesy theatrics or not, Viper and his cronies scared her. She had no doubt they’d return, and they’d hurt her if she didn’t come up with the money they wanted.

She could, of course, still go to the cops. But how much evidence could she give them? What could the cops really do? This was Las Vegas, for crying out loud. Loan sharks had to be as common and pesky as flies in this town. The cops might swat at one, but another would buzz around a few minutes later, until the police accepted them as part of the landscape.

Dragging herself to her feet, she staggered to the door and slammed it shut. After throwing the feeble security lock and latching the chain, she stumbled to the bed and curled into a ball. She wanted to call Gage back, tell him what had happened, but her phone was in pieces thanks to Viper’s boot, the room phone disabled.

She tried to push aside the jitters Viper and his pals had stirred. She had to figure out what to do, how to get herself out of her circumstances. Without money, she couldn’t even buy a bus ticket home. She was stranded in Vegas. Her phone was ruined. She had no job, no boyfriend. And she was pregnant.

Her dire straits pressed down on her, nearly suffocating her. When tears pricked her sinuses, she closed her eyes as, like Dorothy in Oz, she dreamed of home. Of Lagniappe. Her family.

As much as she wanted to call her parents or her sisters for help, her pride wouldn’t let her. She’d been a disappointment to her overachieving family most of her life. The black-sheep sister. The daughter with the penchant for trouble. She couldn’t bear the thought of telling them how royally she’d screwed up again, especially because her father had predicted Derek would lead her to ruin.

Her returning to Lagniappe penniless, unwed and pregnant would cause whispers in her parents’ social circle that would haunt them for years. She’d hurt her family enough with her rebellion, her stubbornness, her rash decisions to last them a lifetime. No. Asking her family to bail her out again was not an option.

Her gaze drifted to the broken pieces of her phone, and a deep, caring voice filtered through her memory. Okay, don’t worry. We’ll figure this out together.

Gage. Her heart squeezed as her best friend’s face swam in her mind’s eye. His crooked smile, his puppy-dog brown eyes and scarred chin, courtesy of his abusive father. Gage had been her best friend since eighth-grade drama class. She’d taken drama because it gave her a creative outlet. He had been in the class because of a scheduling mix-up. But his handiness with tools and woodcraft proved valuable in building sets, so he’d stayed in the class.

Zoey, ever the extrovert, had struck up a conversation with the quiet, gangly stagehand and been drawn to his quirky sense of humor. Later, as their friendship deepened and bonds of trust formed, she’d learned his humor was a shield that hid a home life she wouldn’t wish on her enemies. The Bancroft home had become Gage’s sanctuary, his escape when his home life was at its toughest, and Gage had become Zoey’s safe harbor when she felt adrift, struggling to live up to the high-water mark her sisters set and always falling short. When her wanderlust after graduation had grown wearisome, she’d returned home and found Gage waiting for her, willing to forgive her rash disappearance from his life after one life-changing night that had shaken her to the core …

Gage shrugged his shoulder in an uncomfortable contortion to keep his cell phone against his ear, waiting for the bank representative to take him off hold, while he poured a bowl of raisin bran for Pet and doused it with milk.

Pet curled her lip in disdain. “What’s that?”

“Supper. Eat.”

“I don’t like it.”

“You haven’t tried it.” He shoved the milk back into the refrigerator and shifted his cell to a more comfortable position. Elevator music droned in his ear.

As soon as it was clear Zoey wasn’t going to answer her cell, Gage had called the police department in Las Vegas, hoping to send the cavalry to her rescue. But not having an address to give them, there was nothing they could do. Plan B meant finding Zoey himself. Whatever it took. And fast.

“It has raisins. I’m �lergic to raisins.”

“You’re not allergic to raisins.”

“Am so.”

“Are not. Eat.”

“I don’t want this. I want chicken nuggets,” Pet grumbled and poked out her lower lip.

Gage gritted his teeth and battled down his growing frustration. He refused to lose his temper with Pet. She wasn’t the reason for his agitation or the acid gnawing his stomach. His worry over Zoey and his inability to get in touch with her was his chief aggravation at the moment.

“We’re out of chicken nuggets, and I’m not making mac and cheese again. You need vitamins.” He tapped the cereal box. “See here? This says it’s fortified with vitamins. It’s healthy.”

“Ice cream’s healthy. It has milk.”

“You can’t—”

“Sir?” the bank employee said as she came back on the line. “We’re not allowed to disclose private financial information, even to family members. I’m sorry.”

Shooting his niece a warning look, Gage aimed a finger at the bowl of raisin bran as he paced out of the kitchen. “But this is an emergency. I’m not looking for account numbers or balance information, I just need to know where Zoey Bancroft might have made ATM withdrawals or credit-card purchases in the past couple days. Are there any motel charges?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I can’t give out that information.”

Gage pinched the bridge of his nose. He was losing valuable time arguing bank policy with the woman. “All right, all right. Thanks anyway.” Thanks for nothing.

He thumbed the disconnect key, and his shoulders sagged. He was getting nowhere, while somewhere in Las Vegas, Zoey was alone, pregnant, broke and quite possibly in danger.

He had to act. He couldn’t sit here and wait for word from her that might never come. Already nearly an hour had passed since her call.

Riley Sinclair owed him a couple days from the last time Gage had covered Riley’s shifts at the fire station. If he could—

“Yuck!” Pet shouted from the kitchen. “Raisins are gross!”

Damn. Even if he could get the time off, what was he supposed to do with Pet?

Another firefighter at the station, Cal Walters, had referred him to a babysitter that he used on the days he worked. Because his schedule at the fire station meant he was gone overnight, his sitter, Rani Ogatini, was used to extended stays with Pet.

“Uncle Gage!”

He pulled his address book out of a stack of bills on his desk and flipped through it, looking for Rani’s number. “We don’t have anything else until we go to the store. Eat the cereal.”

Pet gave a theatrical groan of discontent. Drama queen. Like someone else he knew.

Except this time. He’d heard real fear, real misery, real desperation in Zoey’s voice when she’d called.

Zoey needed him. Now. Time to act.

Punching Rani’s number into his cell, Gage set his plan in motion.

Zoey curled into a ball on the bed at the emergency shelter and tried to shut out the noise from the street. She’d cried so much in the past twenty-four hours that she’d wondered if her contacts might float away. Then she’d be blind as a bat on top of everything else. Her stomach growled, even though she’d had breakfast in the shelter’s dining hall. The baby apparently needed to be fed every two hours or her hunger and nausea returned. She’d gone out earlier today looking for a job—anything she could do for a few weeks, until she could earn enough money to get back to Lagniappe—but found nothing. She’d called to have her Visa account canceled so that Viper couldn’t run up charges on it, and because of her shaky credit history, a new account would take up to three business days to be approved. She was flat-broke until then.

Knowing Viper could come back to the motel room at any time and knowing she needed food and shelter, for her baby if nothing else, she’d swallowed her pride and headed to the address for an emergency-aid shelter she’d seen at a bus stop. Per the rules of the shelter, she could stay only two nights before finding another place to stay. But for at least one more day she had a place to regroup, a base from which she could look for work and a kitchen where she could get a hot meal. A charity shelter felt like a last resort, but because of her baby, she knew she needed nourishing meals and safe housing. She had that here. For now.

When she thought of going home, her tail between her legs, hoping her father would forgive her foolishness, a bubble of wounded pride swelled in her chest. Admitting she’d been wrong about Derek hurt. Letting her family see how low she’d sunk grated. But like the prodigal son of the Bible, if she didn’t find a job soon, she’d have to dig up some humility and face the I-told-you-sos. For her baby.

The last thing she wanted was to hurt her family. She hated the idea that her recklessness would bring shame to the Bancroft name and give her parents more reason to be disappointed with her. If she had other options, she’d jump on them. But she was at a dead end.

Her pregnancy reared its head with seesawing nausea, and she wrapped her arm around her middle and groaned. “Please, little one, Mommy’s got enough to deal with without you making me sick.” How could she be hungry and nauseous at the same time? Yet she was.

A loud pounding on her room’s door reverberated off the thin walls. Zoey sat up, holding her breath, her heart racing.

“Zoey?” a male voice called.

She froze. It sounded like—

Rolling off the bed and clambering to her feet, Zoey raced to the door and tore it open. Without hesitation, she launched herself at the man standing across the threshold.

“Gage!” Tears of joy flooded her eyes as she wrapped a tight hug around his shoulders—shoulders far broader than she remembered. In high school, he’d been downright spindly.

He stumbled back a step before catching his balance. “Oh, thank God, Zee! Are you all right? You’re not hurt or sick or—”

He squeezed her tighter, and she felt the shudder that raced through him. Wiggling free of his zealous embrace, she nodded and swiped at the moisture in her eyes. “I’m so glad to see you! I would have called you this morning, but they have some kind of block on the house phone so you can’t call long distance, and that cretin Viper smashed my cell phone,” she gushed without taking a breath. “I didn’t have enough money for a meal, much less a bus ticket home, so I had no choice but to come here. I’ve been so alone. So scared. But now …” Excitement spiked in her again. “Now you’re here and … ohmigod, I’m so glad to see you! But …” she paused and blinked her confusion, “… h-how did you find me here?”

Gage flashed his crooked grin and chuckled. “Take a breath, Zee. You’re gonna pass out if you don’t breathe between paragraphs.”

She soft-punched his arm, then took a hard look at him. He had a couple of days’ growth of dark brown beard. His mahogany eyes were rimmed with red. Lines of fatigue creased his face, and hair that hadn’t seen scissors in too long curled in rumpled disarray. He’d never looked better to her. In fact, he looked … sexy. She shook off the unexpected reaction and opted for the safer, familiar ribbing that had served her so well in high school.

“Jeez, Gage, you look like crap.”

He arched an eyebrow and grunted. “Gee, thanks.” He took her elbow and guided her inside, closing the door and frowning when he saw the dingy room. “You’ve been living here?”

“Only for the last day. Since Derek pilfered all my money for his gambling debts, free is all I can afford.” She crossed her arms over her chest and swallowed hard to loosen the knot of emotion in her throat. “I know what you’re thinking. Oh, how the mighty Bancroft princess has fallen.”

He stepped closer and brushed a tangled wisp of her hair behind her ear. “That’s not what I was thinking. I was thinking it’s a good thing I came after you. I was thinking how grateful I am that you’re safe. That piece of conversation I overheard with the guy I can only assume was this Viper you mentioned scared the bejeezus out of me. For all I knew, you’d been beaten and were lying bleeding to death somewhere.”

Almost of its own volition, her hand lifted to her eye where Viper’s slap had left a small bruise. Mistake. Gage narrowed his gaze and pulled her closer to the bathroom light.

“Gage, it’s nothing. Don’t—”

He tensed, his mouth firming to a taut line. “Son of a—! He did hit you, didn’t he?”

“Gage, chill. I’m okay.”

Jamming a hand in his hair, he turned to stalk toward the bed where he dropped heavily onto the mattress. “It’s not okay, and you know it. A man never has the right to hit a woman.” His face paled, and his gaze shot back to hers. “Especially not a pregnant woman. Are you … Is it—”

She grinned at his obvious discomfort with her pregnancy. “If my morning sickness is any indication, the baby’s fine. And for the record, morning sickness is a grossly erroneous term. I’m sick all day. All. Day. Especially when I don’t eat.”

Gage dragged a hand down his stubbled cheeks, and the scratchy sound of his beard abrading his palms sent a tingle down her spine. Had his jaw always been that square? Zoey tilted her head and studied him. No, he definitely had a more masculine cut to his cheeks and chin now. And his exercise regimen with the fire department had helped his chest and shoulders fill out. Her breath caught in her lungs. Sexy filtered through her mind again before she could stem the absurd thought. This was Gage, for Pete’s sake.

He lowered his brow in a scowl. “Stop looking at me like that. I know I look like crap. You told me that already. But I haven’t slept in more than forty-three hours.”

Zoey straightened. “What? Why not?”

He made a face that said the answer should have been obvious. “Like I was going to sleep before I found you. After driving through the night to get here, I spent the last twenty-two hours visiting every damn motel in Sin City with your picture, trying to track you down. When I explained the situation to one desk clerk, she suggested I try the shelters, too … which is what led me here.”

A warm fuzzy feeling flooded her chest. “You mean you drove out here with no idea where I was and have been flashing my mug shot around all day to find me?”

He gave a casual shrug.

More tears pricked her eyes. Damn, but pregnancy made her emotional. “That is so Daniel Day Lewis from Last of the Mohicans. �Stay alive, whatever may occur. I will find you!’”

He snorted. “Whatever.”

Zoey laughed and rushed to his side, throwing her arms around him and pressing a kiss to his bristly cheek. “My hero!”

He scoff-laughed. “Give me a break.”

“You know that is my favorite movie of all time. You can’t tell me that scene didn’t come to you during the whole drive out here or anytime during your motel search.”

“No, Zee. It didn’t.” He faced her, his eyes a shade darker than normal. Under his piercing stare, her stomach performed a giddy flip-flop. “I was way too preoccupied with wondering if I would be too late to help you, deciding what to do once I found you, what to do if I didn’t find you …”

She squeezed his hand between hers and gave him her brightest smile. “You are the dearest, sweetest guy ever. I’m so lucky you’re my friend.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he shifted his gaze away. “Yeah, well …”

Shoving to her feet, Zoey tugged his arm and hauled him off the bed. “Speaking of which … if you want to help me, I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to take me to the nearest restaurant that has cheeseburgers and buy me lunch. I’m famished!”

Gage rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Yeah, okay. But then can I nap for a while? I think I could sleep for a week.”

“Yes. You can sleep when we get back,” she said with a laugh. “Whatever you want. I’m so glad to see you, I’d French-kiss Wayne Newton if you asked me to.”

Gage staggered toward the door with a groan. “Please, don’t. I’m really tired of seeing you hook up with guys who are all wrong for you.”

Gage watched Zoey wolf down a cheeseburger and fries, and he listened patiently as she filled him in on the details of how Derek the Ass had used her and left her stranded.

“How am I supposed to face my family?” Her voice warbled as she dragged a French fry through mustard—that habit still turned his stomach—and sent him a look of misery. “My dad all but disowned me. My sisters have their perfect lives with men who actually love them, and my mom will want to fuss over me like I’m some errant child who can do nothing but mess things up,” she scoffed. “And maybe that’s who I am. The family screwup. The problem child. I can’t blame them for being ashamed of me.”

Gage sat straighter and scowled at her. “Your family is not ashamed of you, Zee. They love you, no matter what.” Just like I do. He bit his tongue. He’d almost said the last aloud. And wouldn’t that send her running for the hills, screaming?

“Maybe before. But this time … I really messed up. I’m knocked up and broke. Not a lot to be proud of there. My dad was right about Derek. So how do I go home with any dignity at all?”

“Well, maybe you don’t.” He jabbed at the ice in his glass with his straw, watching her expression carefully. “Maybe you go home with humility and a lesson learned.”

“If I didn’t have to put my baby’s needs first, I’d stay here and work as a topless cocktail waitress in some dive rather than be a burden and humiliation to my family.”

Gage knew her well enough to know she wasn’t serious, but he still pictured her delivering drinks topless … and his libido kicked hard. Then he imagined the grubby drunks she’d be serving ogling her, and his blood pressure spiked.

She gave a humorless laugh. “Can’t you just see that? Me, pregnant out to here—” she held her hand a foot from her belly “—and serving drinks topless?”

Gage gritted his teeth. “Not gonna happen, Zee. I won’t let it.”

She slumped back in the booth, and he mentally prepared to deliver the speech he’d prepared on his twenty-five-hour drive from Lagniappe. He rubbed his scratchy eyes, wondering if he ought to wait until he’d slept to launch into this discussion.

The very real possibility that she’d hate his idea and turn it down stirred a drumbeat of caution in his chest. The last time they’d taken their friendship in a new direction, he’d nearly lost her. Her rejection had cut a wide, deep swath that still ached on days like today. The plan he’d devised was risky, but he’d take the chance of getting hurt again if it would help Zoey.

He’d do anything for Zee, even put his heart on the line.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked, nodding toward his half-eaten pizza. The other half sat like a rock in his gut.

“I’m not hungry. I ate earlier.” Gage shoved his napkin under the edge of his plate and took a deep breath. “I have an idea, but before you answer me, I want you to hear me out. Okay?”

She wrinkled her nose as she munched a French fry, a mannerism he remembered from high school that meant she was skeptical but curious. “Okay. What?”

He pressed his palms on the table and met her gaze. Her bright jade eyes held such open trust and affection that he almost balked. What if he screwed this up and she got hurt?

“I’ve been thinking about your situation—and mine—and I think we can help each other.”

More nose scrunching. “Help each other how?”

“What if there was a way for you to go back to Lagniappe and face your family with your head high and your future secure?”

She arched a copper eyebrow and propped her elbows on the table. “I’m listening.”

“I need help with Pet.”

“Pet?”

“Elaine’s daughter. I told you about her, right?”

Zoey tipped her head. “Yeah. I thought her name was Magnolia or something.”

“Petunia. We call her Pet because Petunia is just … well, a ridiculous name. I have custody of her while Elaine deals with her alcohol problem.”

Zoey’s eyes widened. “You’re raising a baby? By yourself? Since when?”

“Well, she’s not a baby anymore. She’s five, but she’s still a handful. And yes, I’m doing it alone—well, except for the babysitter who watches her while I’m at the fire station. I’ve had Pet since August, so … about a month now.”

Zoey flopped back in the booth, grinning broadly. “You’re a father!”

He raised a hand and shook his head. “I’m an uncle just trying to help out.”

“Gage, that’s so … awesome. If I said I was proud of you, would you take it the right way? �Cause you must be the best brother ever to raise Pet for Elaine.”

He held up a hand. “This isn’t permanent. Just until Elaine gets her act together and can be the parent she should be.”

Combing her thick hair back from her face, Zoey shook her head. “Like that will ever happen. Elaine’s way too much like your mom. I’d be surprised if she ever gets her life in any shape to take care of a kid. Not without serious counseling.”

Gage’s gut tightened. Zoey’s brutal honesty cut close to the truth. She’d seen his family, up close and personal, throughout high school. After Zoey had nursed Gage’s injuries from one of his dad’s beatings in eighth grade, he’d seen no point in hiding the ugly truth from her. His family put the dys in dysfunctional. His parents might be gone now—his mother succumbing to illness right after he finished high school, his father killed in a car-versus-tree wreck just last year—but their warped legacy lived on. Zoey’s family, the hours, days, weeks he’d taken refuge in their pool house, had been his saving grace throughout his troubled youth.

Gage cleared his throat. “Yeah, well … that’s why Elaine’s in a clinic now, drying out. We’ll see if it sticks.”

“Okay, so back to your idea. This will save my pride, give me a future, give you help with Pet and—” She grinned. “What, cure cancer? How do you figure to do all that?”

Gage reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the small box he’d brought with him from home.

Lifting the lid on the jewelry box, he showed her the small emerald ring. Emerald to match her eyes. What a sap he was.

Zoey goggled at the ring. “Leapin’ lizards! Gage?”

“So we’re in Vegas, right? Marry me, Zee.”




Chapter 3


Nervous jitters danced down Zoey’s spine, and she popped up from the chair in the waiting area of the I Do, I Do Wedding Chapel to pace. All of Gage’s reasoning sounded good in theory, but the reality of marrying Gage still left Zoey off balance. Wary. Terrified.

And her inability to quit staring at his five-o’clock-shadowed jaw line and buff fireman’s build left her just … confused. And flush-faced.

“Just so we’re straight on this,” she said, aiming a finger at her groom, who looked a little pale around the gills himself, “this isn’t permanent. When we both have our lives back on track—after my baby comes and I have a job, and when Elaine takes custody of Pet again—we get a simple divorce and go our separate ways, no hard feelings, no complications. Right?”

Gage’s jaw tightened, and his nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep breath. “Right.”

She paced across the room and back, acid building in her stomach as she found the courage to lay out her number-one rule. She wet her lips and squeezed her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “And no sex. This isn’t really a marriage, and … well, we know how sex messed things up for us last time.”

His eyes darkened, and his gaze narrowed. He said nothing, but she knew he was remembering the last time, the only time they’d slept together … and the morning after.

The night of graduation filtered through her mind like an apparition, haunting her. She could still hear the cheers of her classmates as they tossed their caps, could still smell the beer and “jungle juice” Marty Haines served at his postgraduation party. But most vividly, she remembered looking for Gage, not seeing him at the party, but finding him later, waiting for her at her family’s pool house. With a black eye.

Though she’d been tipsy, she’d let him vent about his father, offered him comfort and … one thing had led to another. Zoey had compounded the drunken mistake of sleeping with her best friend with her impulsive gut reaction the next morning. In a panic and without a word to Gage, she’d fled Lagniappe for Europe—a decision that had nearly ruined their friendship.

“No sex,” she repeated. “We can’t repeat that mistake. Our friendship is more important than a night of doing the mattress tango.” She pressed a hand to her swirling stomach. “Agreed?”

Gage held her gaze, his dark stare unnerving. He cracked his knuckles, a sure sign that he wasn’t as cool and collected inside as his relaxed manner suggested. Finally, he turned a hand up in concession. “Fine. No sex. But we still respect our wedding vows. No infidelity.”

She jerked a nod. “Naturellement.”

His scowl reminded her how much he hated her speaking French, a too-raw reminder of her years away “finding herself” in Europe.

“But to keep the divorce simple, I think we should—”

Gage growled and surged to his feet. “Can we not plan every detail of our divorce now? It’s bad enough you’ve talked about nothing but how this won’t be a �real’ marriage—” glowering, he made quotation marks in the air with his fingers “—since the minute you put on my engagement ring. If you don’t want to marry me, just say so. Otherwise, can we try to be at least a little optimistic before we walk down the aisle?”

“Easy, Sparky.” She stepped up to him and patted his chest. His broad, hard, well-developed chest. She let her hand linger longer than she should have, and he arched an eyebrow. Leapin’ lizards. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page before we say �I do.’”

She savored the warmth of his skin that seeped through his shirt and felt the reassuring thump of his heart under her hand. Strong and steady, just like Gage. Reminded of all he’d sacrificed to help her, Zoey cupped his cheek with her hand. His unshaven jaw scratched her hand, and she marveled again at the changes in him since high school. Who was this calendar-worthy hottie she was about to marry? Sure, she’d seen him since graduation. Dozens of times. But in her mind, Gage would always be the quiet, skinny boy who didn’t shave until his junior year. The lanky track-team distance runner. The geeky guy no one noticed and whose name was misspelled “Gabe” in the senior yearbook.

But women noticed him now. At the restaurant alone, she’d counted five different women who’d looked ready to jump him if he’d shown even a hint of interest. Her best friend, the late bloomer, the fireman hunk. Who’da thunk it?

“Thanks again for coming to my rescue. Now I don’t have to go home to face my parents unwed, penniless, pregnant and deserted.” She quirked a wry grin. “Just penniless and pregnant.”

He shrugged. As if driving fifteen hundred miles without sleeping, as if putting his life on hold so her baby would have a name, as if saving her from being homeless were nothing.

He wrapped his fingers around hers and moved them from his cheek to brush a soft kiss across her knuckles. A sensation like tiny bubbles tickled down her spine.

“What are friends for? I wouldn’t have survived high school if not for you and your family. Consider this payback.”

The doors to the chapel opened, and a man wearing a sparkly suit that Liberace would envy called, “Powell-Bancroft?”

Gage and Zoey looked from Mr. Sparkles to each other. She saw the get-a-load-of-him grin Gage fought to hide and had to bite the inside of her own cheek so she wouldn’t laugh. “Are you sure this is the wedding chapel and not the Salute to Siegfried and Roy?” she whispered.

Gage’s cheek twitched, and his gaze lit with humor. “Just in case, keep an eye out for tigers in there, okay?” He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

Her stomach swirled, and her burger-and-fries lunch rebelled. “Is this the right thing to do, Gage? I mean, the last thing I want is to do anything that will hurt our friendship.”

His dark eyebrows lowered, his expression cautious. “I’m sure. I thought about all the pros and cons driving out here. But if you’re not sure, if you need more time to think—”

“That would be so not me. Right?” She raked her hair back with her fingers and gave him a nervous laugh. “Impulsive is my middle name. Isn’t that what my mother says?” She hooked her arm in his and squared her shoulders. “Let’s do this.”

A tinny organ played the Wagner wedding march, and Zoey squeezed Gage’s hand as they strode down the aisle to the vaudevillesque minister. Her stomach seesawed, her lip sweated and her knees trembled. This was hardly how she pictured her wedding day as a little girl.

She swallowed hard, forcing down the bile that rose in her throat when the minister, a show-perfect smile in place, intoned, “We’re gathered here today to join Zoey and Gabe—”

“Gage,” her groom corrected.

The pearly-white smile faltered. “Oh, uh … Zoey and Gage in the legal bonds of marriage.”

Her heart thundered, and she thought she might throw up. Maybe the hot peppers on her burger had been a mistake … but she’d had a strange craving for them and—

“Zoey, do you take Gage to be your husband? To love and cherish in sickness and—” The minister’s voice faded to a drone as she faced her groom. Her groom. Leapin’ lizards! She’d spent her whole life making rash decisions, screwing up, hurting the people she loved. How could she live with herself if, in trying to dig herself out of the hole she’d created with Derek, she was making matters worse by marrying Gage?

She was ready to turn and run when she met Gage’s eyes. Warm, genuine, encouraging. He flashed her one of his crooked grins and, as if David Copperfield had waved his hands and snatched away a silky veil, her jitters vanished. Poof! Gage had been her rock, her refuge, her home base for more than eleven years. With him, she was safe, anchored.

“—until death do you part?” the showman minister finished grandly.

A niggle of guilt poked her. Their marriage would be temporary, not until death, but the confidence in Gage’s eyes filled her with a calm assurance she was doing the right thing. Warmth filled her chest. “Yeah, I do.”

Relief to have her vows over with buzzed through Zoey as the Liberace double repeated the vows for Gage. In response, Gage’s expression warmed. “Absolutely, positively.”

Zoey quirked an eyebrow. His answer seemed over-the-top, when a simple “I do” would have sufficed. But maybe Gage was getting caught up in the whole Las Vegas flash and dazzle. Or maybe he was trying to make her laugh at the absurdity of their tying the knot in Vegas like something from an episode of Friends. He surprised her again by producing from his pocket a plain band to slip on her finger at the appointed time. When she gave him a curious look, he only winked and turned to face the minister. They signed the marriage license to make it official, and the tinny organ tuned up again with “Going to the Chapel of Love.”

The minister gave Gage a sly grin. “You can kiss her now.”

Zoey sputtered, heat creeping to her cheeks. “Naw. See, we’re not really—”

Gage caught her wrist and reeled her close with a firm tug. “You heard the man, Zee. Shut up and kiss me.”

Her stomach swooped in anticipation. To cover, she pulled a face and buzzed her lips in dismissal. “Yeah, right. We’re not—”

Capturing her nape with one hand, Gage anchored her against his long, lean body with his other arm. He silenced her startled gasp with a kiss that was far from platonic. His warm mouth covered hers, drawing on it with gentle but insistent persuasion. Zoey clutched at his T-shirt to steady herself as his tongue traced the seam of her lips and her head spun dizzily. A sensation like hot maple syrup flowed through her veins, sweet and indulgent, while Gage’s skillful lips teased and tantalized hers. Around her, the chapel lost focus, and the organ was drowned out by the whoosh of blood in her ears.

When he angled his head to deepen the kiss, she surrendered to the heady pleasure that swamped her and answered the tug of his mouth with her own fervor. Gage massaged her neck with his fingers, his caress seductive and hypnotizing. Heat and need coiled low in her belly as she melted into him. His kiss was commanding yet tender, powerful, romantic—and unexpectedly erotic.

When he backed away, leaving her shaking and breathless, Gage’s grin was cocky, his dark eyes on fire. “And don’t you forget it.”

Weak-kneed, she blinked at him—stunned, confused … and aroused. Aroused by Gage? What was happening to her?

“Leapin’ lizards,” she rasped, touching her fingers to her lips, half expecting to find them ablaze. “What was that?”

“That, Mrs. Powell—” Gage took a step back, rolled his shoulders and twisted his mouth in regret “—is just a taste of what you’ll be missing.” He laced their fingers and nudged her down the aisle with her arm tucked under his. Giving her a side glance, he arched an eyebrow. “So … how do you feel about your no-sex rule now?”

Gage loaded the last of Zoey’s belongings into the back of his Ford Escape—or rather Elaine’s Escape. He was using the SUV while his sister was in rehab and he had Pet. He slammed the back end of the vehicle closed and glanced up to the door of the motel room where Zoey emerged with her purse and a backpack. Having never officially checked out, due to her lack of funds, Zoey was still technically renting the room. So they’d returned long enough for Gage to get a shower and a nap before hitting the road.

She’d been unusually quiet since the wedding ceremony, and Gage mentally kicked himself for kissing her so passionately. A chaste kiss to seal the union would have been enough. Or no kiss, as Zoey had wanted, would have been safest. But all her talk about how their marriage wouldn’t be real, how they couldn’t have sex, how sleeping together their only time had been a mistake had frustrated him.

And, yeah, he knew that harboring any hope that living as man and wife, sharing the same roof, renewing the bonds that had made them so close in high school would eventually change her feelings for him was a recipe for disaster and heartache. But maybe a little of Zoey’s recklessness had rubbed off on him because, damn it, he still clung to the shred of hope that someday Zoey would see what she meant to him and return his feelings. The kiss at the I Do, I Do Wedding Chapel just demonstrated that they had chemistry beyond friendship. His body temperature rose just remembering the heat in Zoey’s kiss. The way her raspberry lips had parted in surprise and a pink blush had crept over her cheeks. She’d made a beautiful bride.

For whatever reason, Zoey was scared to recognize that attraction and embrace it. He’d known that ever since he woke up alone the morning after graduation. Kissing her today had been stupid. He couldn’t push her, or he risked having her run from him again as she had six years ago. He couldn’t risk hurting her while she was vulnerable, couldn’t risk frightening her away when she was still reeling from Derek’s desertion. She needed him to be her friend while she dealt with the mess she was in and got her feet under her again.

Gage dragged a hand down his face and sighed. Patience, buddy. Just have patience.

Yet another small voice, an echo from the past, whispered to him, You’re a dope if you think she’ll ever want you. She’s going to run again. She’s going to hurt you. That’s who she is and what she does. You can’t change her.

“I think that’s everything.” Zoey opened a back door and tossed in her backpack. “Did you pay the motel manager?”

Gage shoved his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “Yeah. We’re good to go.”

Zoey gnawed her bottom lip. “I’m going to pay you back. All of it. I hate that you got stuck settling my debts.”

“Forget it.”

She frowned. “Never. I’m gonna pay you back. I am.”

“Zoey?” The voice came from behind Gage, and even before he turned, he saw Zoey’s expression and knew who it was.

“What the hell are you doing here, Derek?” Her tone was brittle, hurt.

Gage bristled and stepped in front of Derek when he tried to approach Zoey. “Beat it, dude. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

Derek ignored Gage and leaned sideways to see past him. “I just want a minute, Red. We gotta talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you.” She snatched open the passenger door of the Escape and dropped her purse on the seat. “Ready, Gage?”

“Gage?” Derek cocked his head and studied him. “You’re her friend from school.”

Squaring his shoulders, Gage narrowed a defensive glare on the man who’d used Zoey and discarded her like yesterday’s news. “Actually, I’m her husband now. And I’m taking her home. So beat it.”

Derek’s eyebrows shot up, and he coughed a laugh. “Her husband? You know she’s pregnant, right?”

Gage’s blood pressure spiked, and he balled his fists. “Yeah, I know,” he growled through gritted teeth. “And I know you weren’t man enough to take responsibility for your baby. But I care about Zoey, and I will protect her from you and anyone else who tries to hurt her or her baby.”

Derek raised his hands. “Easy, man, I don’t want to hurt her. I just gotta talk to her.” Turning toward Zoey again, his expression turned beseeching and somewhat desperate. “If you’re married now and going home, then you must have access to some money again. I need your help, Red. Please.”

She scoffed. “Get real.”

“C’mon, Zoey. Viper’s breathing down my neck. I gotta get him his money soon or things could get ugly.”

She pointed to her bruised eye. “They already got ugly. Viper tried to squeeze the money from me. But I’m done being your ATM. Haven’t you stolen enough from me?”

Derek sidled around Gage and approached Zoey. “You can’t do this to me, Zoey! I need that money. Do it for what we had.” He paused and got a gleam in his eye. “Do it for our kid.”

She stiffened. “You lost any right to speak of our baby when you told me not to keep it!”

“I’m sorry about that. Really. I just panicked.” He paused and hung his head, turning his palms up in a pleading gesture. “Please, I just need a little cash.”

“What you need is professional help. You’re a gambling addict, Derek.” Whirling away, she slid into the front seat and slammed the Escape’s door. Gage took his cue and headed toward the driver’s side, but when Derek jerked Zoey’s door open to confront her again, he detoured.

“Please, Zoey. I need money! I’ll get help. I will, but please, don’t do this …”

Gage grabbed the back of Derek’s shirt and hauled him away from Zoey. He could smell the desperation that rolled off Derek in waves. Pitiful. With a firm thrust, he shoved Derek to the pavement. “I’m warning you, if you ever come near her again or try to steal money from her in any way, I will hurt you worse than any loan shark ever could.”

Without looking back, Gage stormed around the front fender and climbed behind the wheel. Protective rage seethed inside him as he gunned the engine.

Derek staggered to his feet and smacked the side of the SUV as Gage peeled out of the motel parking lot. “You haven’t heard the last of me, Red! You owe me!”

In the passenger seat, Zoey shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut. Gage wrapped his hand around the fist she balled in her lap. “I won’t let him hurt you, Zee. I swear it.”

She cast a green-eyed glance at him, full of trust, apology and appreciation, and his heart kicked. He’d keep his promise to protect Zoey and her baby, no matter what. And somehow he’d find a way to guard his heart.




Chapter 4


Standing on her parents’ front porch, Zoey drew a deep breath, shelved her pride. She mustered the nerve to face her father’s I-told-you-sos and the crestfallen disapproval in her mother’s eyes. Gage reassured her with a gentle shoulder squeeze that stirred warmth in her belly. Although glad to have him beside her, bolstering her courage, this was her battle, her mess to clean up, and she couldn’t rely on him to be her knight this time, swooping in to save her from her parents’ disenchantment.

Within seconds of Zoey’s firm knock on the massive mahogany door, her mother answered the summons, her face reflecting first shock, then joy, before the first hints of suspicion and concern etched creases around her eyes. “Zoey! Honey … I—What—?”

Her mother clapped a hand to her chest as if trying to catch her breath. Ellen Bancroft’s gaze darted to Gage before returning to her prodigal daughter.

“Surprise.” Zoey forced a grin, her heart tap-dancing in her chest. “I’m home and … I have news. Is Dad around?”

“Yes, somewhere. Come in.” Her mother ushered them inside, greeting Gage with a hug.

“Neil, it’s Zoey and Gage! Where are you?” Ellen called toward the kitchen, then waved them toward the family room couch.

On the mantel, Zoey spotted the newest framed pictures in her parents’ collection. Wedding pictures for both of her older sisters, a family shot of Holly with her husband and her new stepchildren, and a cameo of Paige and her husband, Jake, at the ribbon cutting of their new private security firm. A twinge of jealousy nipped at her. Her sisters had success, family, careers … a multitude of reasons their parents could be proud. Zoey’s picture was conspicuously missing. But, then, what had she done lately that was memorable or photo-worthy?

Sibling rivalry was nothing new to her. She’d long been falling short of her sisters’ high-water marks. She’d learned early in life that she didn’t have the good grades and ambition that earned praise for Paige or the good behavior and sweet disposition that garnered Holly their parents’ endearments. She’d fought her restless nature, struggled to make passing grades, but her adventurous impulses continually led her into mischief and her parents’ bad graces.

Then in junior high, she’d discovered drama club. She could be melodramatic, loud and over-the-top, and people approved. She could pretend to be someone else, and her family applauded. She’d found her niche in acting, a way to live her life in bold gestures and big emotions, and her family didn’t roll their eyes in frustration or shake their heads in dismay.

But when high school ended, so had her acting career. She’d abandoned the stage in pursuit of new adventures—Europe after graduation. A half-dozen attempts to find a career that had a brighter future than that of starving actor. Then Derek.

The thud of footsteps on the hardwood hall floor preceded Neil Bancroft’s appearance at the study door. When he spotted Zoey, he stilled, stared, then crossed the room in three giant steps to fold his daughter in a warm embrace. “Welcome home, sweetheart. Are you all right?”

Zoey’s throat tightened with emotion. She hadn’t expected her father’s affectionate greeting, considering the acrimony of their last conversation in this room. Still pressed against her father’s chest, she nodded, not trusting her voice. Finally, Neil stepped back, squaring his shoulders. Shaking from her rioting emotions, Zoey sank onto the couch next to her husband. Her husband. Leapin’ lizards.

Gage rose long enough to shake Neil’s hand in greeting. Her father nodded a welcome before casting a quick look around the room. “Is he here, too?”

Her father’s tone of voice, his derogatory emphasis, left no question of whom he meant. Zoey bristled at her father’s shift into a combative demeanor, and Gage, clearly reading her body language, placed a hand on her knee, silently advising patience. The warmth of his hand seeped through her jeans and stirred a giddy flutter in her belly. The memory of their wedding kiss teased the edges of her thoughts, rattling her further. Why did Gage have this unnerving effect on her now? Was it just because they were married? Biting her lip, she fumbled for composure before answering her father. “No. He … we broke up.”

She divided a glance between her parents, gauging their reaction to this news. Her father arched a graying eyebrow, indicating he expected an explanation, while her mother’s expression lit with hope and relief. Beside the couch where Zoey perched, a large grandfather clock stood sentinel over the room, while its ticktocking reverberated in the ensuing quiet like a game-show timer, urging her to continue.

Her father crossed his arms and cocked his head. “How much did he take you for?”

His confidence in his question chafed. Zoey raised her chin, vacillating between, “Who says he took me for anything?” and the truth. But what good would denials do, other than salve her pride for a few seconds before she came clean?

She rubbed her palms on her jeans and huffed a sigh. “Everything.”

Her mother gasped. Her father groaned. Gage wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed. The gesture, in the face of her parents’ obvious dismay and disappointment in her, was like landing in an unexpected safety net after a ten-story fall.

I’m here. I stand with you. I care. His unspoken support brought tears to her eyes.

Neil Bancroft narrowed his eyes and frowned. “Your savings?”

She nodded.

“Your inheritance?”

More tears prickled her eyes. Shame was a bitter pill. “Everything.”

“Criminy, Zoey!” Neil shoved a hand through his silver hair. “I knew this would happen. I told you he was—”

“A jerk and a loser and a freeloader, and I didn’t listen because I was in love.” Zoey shoved to her feet, raising her voice to be heard over her father’s. “I know. You were right, and I screwed up. Again. I’m a disappointment to the family, and the worst daughter ever. Does that about cover it?”

“No, honey! Don’t say that.” Her mother rushed over to her, placing herself between her husband and daughter. “You’re a wonderful daughter, and we love you.”

“What about your stock in the company? Your shares of Bancroft Industries?”

“Neil!” Ellen sent her husband a quelling look.

But Zoey’s spirits lifted. She’d forgotten her stake in the family business, small though it was. Derek hadn’t gotten everything. “No.” Relief filled her tone. Her smile welled from inside her, and she turned to Gage before answering her father. “I still have my stock.”

Her father dragged a hand over his face as he stalked to a wingback chair and sat down. “Well, that’s something anyway.”

Her mother gave her father another scolding look, then turned to Zoey with a stiff smile. “You said you had news. Good news?”

The hopeful tone of her mother’s question, as if she didn’t really expect good news and was bracing for the worst, raked through Zoey. Not that she could blame her mom. Zoey had more often than not been the bearer of bad news. She’d gotten detention for cutting class. She’d maxed out her credit card. She wasn’t going to college. She’d gotten arrested at an environmental group’s protest rally and needed to be bailed out of jail.

Yeah, she’d dropped a few bombs in her day. And today’s missile had an atomic warhead.

“Um, well …” When she hedged, Gage shoved to his feet and slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. The press of his hard body against hers brought a flush to her skin from her scalp to her toes.

“Yes. Good news. Very good news.” His voice was strong, confident and happy. He gave her a side glance that said Trust me.

Her father raised his eyebrow. Go on.

Her mother leaned forward, her expression eager.

Zoey opened her mouth, then closed it, the words stuck in her throat. I’m pregnant.

When she faltered, Gage jumped in again. “We’re married.” She could hear a smile in his voice as he made the announcement, and Zoey’s heart tripped.

Her parents stared, mouths gaping.

“It was an impromptu thing, but heartfelt,” he continued. “I’ve been waiting ten years for her to say yes, so when she did, I didn’t waste time and give her the chance to back out.”

Shock gave way to joy on her mother’s face, and her father sat back in his chair nodding his approval. And why not? Gage had always been like a son to them, thanks to his many hours with the family, his place at the table for holiday meals, his help with yard work, repairs and washing dishes. When each of his parents died, her parents had anonymously paid for the funerals, though Gage had figured out easily enough who’d made the generous gesture.

Gage stroked his hand from her shoulder to her arm and hugged her to his side, beaming, playing his part as a newlywed to a T. Apparently, he should have been on the stage instead of working on the sets during high school. The guy had a hidden acting talent, currently out in force. Zoey almost believed that he was really as blissful as he pretended about their I’m-saving-your-ass, not-really-real marriage of convenience. And like a lust-crazed honeymooner’s, her nerve endings crackled in response to his tender touch, and a hum of desire coiled in her belly.

Although distracted by her reaction to Gage, she summoned a bit of her own thespian talent and flashed a smile to her parents. “And …” She paused for dramatic effect as if she were spilling the best part, instead of the catch. “We’re expecting. I’m pregnant.”

The shock returned. More gaping.

Zoey’s cheeks felt leaden as she tried to hold her smile in place. “I’m due in April.”

Ellen pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh, Zoey, Gage, congratulations! I’m so happy for you.” She stepped up to them and drew them both into a group hug. “This is such a surprise … except not really. I always had a feeling you two might end up together. Oh!” Her mother laughed and kissed Gage’s cheek. “Welcome to the family, honey.”

Zoey peered around Gage as her mother hugged him again, and they exchanged more pleasantries. Her father hadn’t said anything yet, and his gaze was directed toward the floor.

His expression boded ill. He didn’t appear mad exactly. More confused, skeptical.

She swallowed hard. Oh, Lord. He was doing the math. When he met her gaze, Zoey knew she was busted.

“The baby isn’t Gage’s, is it?”

Her mother and Gage fell silent, turning toward Neil when he spoke. Zoey’s heart thumped. She said nothing.

“It’s Derek’s baby. Am I right?” Her father’s expression sagged with disenchantment.

Zoey raised her chin, working to keep her hurt and frustration from coloring her tone. But failing. “It’s my baby. That’s what matters.”

“And that’s why Gage married you,” he spoke softly, but his tone radioed his disillusionment. “Because you were pregnant, and Derek had dumped you.”

“Maybe I dumped Derek.” Semantics, she knew, but Zoey felt compelled to put a more positive spin on the matter. “What matters is I saw his true stripes, and he’s out of my life.”

Or so she hoped. She could still hear the desperation in his voice as she and Gage drove away from the Vegas motel. You haven’t heard the last of me, Red! You owe me!

She suppressed a shudder. It would be just like Derek to haunt her life the way the acrid scent of his cigarettes clung to her clothes.

“So Gage only married you to save your reputation and give your baby a n—”

“Actually, sir,” Gage interrupted, his voice firm. “I married Zoey for the reasons I gave earlier. I care for Zoey and always have. I wanted to marry her.”

Zoey’s heart pattered with a bittersweet ache. Her hero. Rescuing her from her father’s condemnation. He really was putting on quite a good show for her parents’ sake. She studied the firm set of his mouth and marveled again at the changes in him, the rugged appeal of his square jaw and harsh cheekbones.

“And you don’t have a problem with raising another man’s baby?” Her father seemed shocked, suspicious. “Do you have any idea how much a baby costs? You understand she has no savings anymore. The burden of paying for this baby will fall to you, son.”

“My friendship with Zoey has never had anything to do with money, how much she had or didn’t have. And I’m sure I will love her baby as if it were my own. Just like Zoey will care for my niece with genuine affection.”

Appreciation for Gage’s defense of her warmed Zoey’s heart, but guilt sliced through her in its wake. This was her mess. She couldn’t let Gage fall on the sword for her. She had to stand up to her father’s chastisement, take the blame for her mistakes and take responsibility for turning her life around. Starting with facing the truth and not hiding behind a sham marriage.

“Your niece?” Her father cocked his eyebrow in his do-tell way again.

Enough. She stepped forward, squaring her shoulders as she faced her father. “Okay, yes. The baby is Derek’s. I realize that I’ve let you down.” Her voice cracked, and she slapped a hand to her chest. “I’ve let me down. I have no reason to expect you to be happy about my circumstances, but Gage was willing to sacrifice everything to help me.” She raised her chin and leveled a steady gaze on her father. “So don’t judge Gage or his choices. He’s doing this all for me, and I love him for it.”

She felt Gage stiffen beside her, sensed more than saw the startled glance he shot toward her. “And yes, our marriage is more of a business arrangement than a love match.” She heard Gage sigh, saw her mother deflate, recognized the resignation in her father’s face. Pain plucked at her, knowing how she’d failed her parents and what her mistakes had cost Gage. Clearing the clog of emotion from her throat, she explained the symbiotic arrangement she and Gage had agreed upon. “When the time comes, we’ve agreed to a quiet … divorce.” A vise squeezed her chest so tightly that she could barely rasp the last word.

A heavy silence fell over the room, and tears stung her sinuses. Maybe coming back to Lagniappe had been a mistake. Maybe her parents would have been better off if she’d stayed away, let them think she was still happily living the life of a gypsy with her poker-playing boyfriend. Maybe accepting Gage’s proposal had been another selfish mistake that would come back to haunt her and break his heart. Even the thought of hurting him made her lungs ache until she couldn’t breathe.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and stood taller. Too late for second-guessing. All she could do now was plow forward and do everything in her power to avoid making things worse or hurting anyone she loved any further with additional screwups.

“I’m sorry.” She heard the tremble in her voice and cleared her throat before she continued. “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, but you deserved the truth.”

Gage pressed his mouth in a hard line of disappointment.

She tipped her head and mouthed, “What?”

He shook his head and turned his attention to the window.

“Zoey—” Her father scratched his cheek and sighed his frustration. “Marriage is not something to be taken lightly. It’s not supposed to be a business arrangement.”

“Sure it is,” she countered. “For centuries marriages were arranged for political, business and social reasons. The concept of marriage as a love match is really a rather modern concept.”

Her father grunted. “Why do you have to be so argumentative? So exasperating?”

Ellen leaned forward, jumping into the fray. “Maybe, given some time, you’ll decide that you want to stay married to Gage.” Her mother paused and divided a look between Zoey and Gage. “Maybe living together as husband and wife, you two will fall in love. You know, the best marriages are based on friendship.”

The note of forced cheer and optimism in her mother’s voice stirred a bittersweet longing inside Zoey. But she couldn’t dwell on longings and selfish wants anymore. She’d been chasing her dreams for years, leaving a trail of disappointment and heartache in her path. Time to sacrifice what she wanted to make sure no one else got hurt.

Her father took a deep breath and gave the two of them a thoughtful look. “Zoey, my father always told me that life is ten percent what happens to you and ninety percent how you respond to what happens. I hope you gave this decision careful consideration.”

She swallowed hard. Did thirty minutes as they found a wedding chapel count as careful consideration? Somehow she doubted her father would think so.

Gage slid a hand to the small of her back and nudged her toward the door. “If you’re ready, Zee, my niece has been with the babysitter for four days. We need to get home and relieve the poor gal from Pet patrol.”

Zoey’s mother rose and gave her a tight hug. “We’ll talk soon, okay? With a baby coming, there is so much to plan! Have you told your sisters about your marriage and the baby?”

Zoey’s spirits lifted. Holly and Paige. Next to Gage, her sisters were her best friends. But how would they react to her news?

“Not yet. We wanted you to be the first to know.” And she’d known if she told her sisters, her parents might have found out before she could break the news.

As they made their way to the front door, she promised to be in touch with her mother before the end of the week, shared a wisecrack with Gage about the meter running on the babysitter and monitored her father’s brooding silence.

Make the first move, her conscience nudged her while the stubborn brat in her balked.

Gage opened the front door and stood aside for her to exit first. She took a step toward the porch, then hesitated when guilt kicked her in the shin.

“Dad—”

“Zoey—” he said at the same time, and they chuckled awkwardly.

She rushed over to her father and threw her arms around his neck, like she had every night as a child when he’d walk through the door at the end of a long business day.

“I love you, Baby Bear,” he murmured as he squeezed her to his chest.

The moniker took her back twenty years to nights when her favorite bedtime event was acting out Goldilocks with her father and sisters. Blonde Holly was Goldilocks, and Paige was Mama Bear, but the most dramatic and heartfelt performance each night belonged to Zoey.

Tears puddled in her eyes and, from a throat tight with emotion, she squeaked, “I love you, too, Papa Bear.”

Gage glanced across the front seat at Zoey, who was chewing a fingernail with a vengeance. “Haven’t kicked that bad habit yet, eh, Zee?”

She paused and stared at her finger as if she hadn’t realized what she was doing until he called it to her attention. With an annoyed twist of her lips, she sat on her hands and pressed her lips into a taut line.

He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel. “So … that went pretty well, doncha think?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Were you not in the same room with us? They hate me now.”

Gage nodded. “Oh … so that’s what �I love you, Baby Bear’ means. It was code for �I hate my daughter.’ I was wondering about that.” Remembering the lingering hug the father and daughter had shared stirred a familiar longing in Gage. He’d always envied Zoey for the family she had, the love and support. The obvious affection Zoey’s father had for her was so starkly different from the animosity and indifference he’d grown up with.

She scoffed. “You know what I mean. I’ve failed them, and they’re hurt and disappointed and disillusioned and disgusted and angry and—”

“Yeah. Maybe. Understandably so. Did you really expect anything else?”

Sighing, she pulled a hand out and nibbled a cuticle. “No.”

“They’ll get over it.” He reached over and caught her hand in his, pulling it away from her mouth. “The important thing is they love you. They’re glad to have you back home and want to see you turn things around.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

Zoey tucked her hand under her leg again and rocked her head from side to side stretching her muscles. The gesture drew his attention to the smooth ivory arch of her neck, and he squelched the urge to press his lips to the pulse point under her jaw and inhale the fruity aroma of her shampoo.

Gage made the turn into his neighborhood, and he glanced at Zoey to gauge her reaction to the modest homes along the street. His house was a far cry from the dumpy trailer he’d grown up in, but what would Zoey think of it? She’d led a life of privilege with her parents well beyond his firefighter’s salary. “So this is it,” he said, pulling into his driveway. “Home sweet home.”

A smile tugged her sensuous lips when she faced him, and it was all he could do to not steal a kiss. “I like. Did you plant the pansies by the porch?”

He cut the engine. “Not really. I bought them already in the pots at Rani’s urging.”

Her eyebrow lifted in a way reminiscent of her father’s mannerism. “Rani?”

“My babysitter. She claimed my yard needed some fall color.” He hitched his head toward the house. “She’s inside. Come meet her.”

He turned to open his car door, but Zoey stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Gage, thank you. For defending me to my dad. You didn’t have to say all that stuff about how you wanted to marry me and all.” She puffed one cheek out as she sighed and rolled her eyes. “I appreciate your putting a positive spin on things with your ain’t-this-great-news shtick.”

A heaviness settled in his chest. She’d thought he was feeding her father a line to cover for her. More evidence that she viewed their arrangement from a far different perspective than he did. As if her frankness with her parents, calling their marriage a business arrangement that would eventually end in divorce, weren’t enough to prove that point.

Sirens in his head blared, “Warning, Will Robinson!” He definitely needed to reel in his feelings and expectations or he was headed for another disaster with Zoey. One that could kill their friendship for good. His hand tightened on the door handle. “You’re welcome, but … I said it because I meant it. I’m glad you’re here.”

Angling her head, she gave him a gooey-eyed look. “You’re the sweetest. I didn’t mean to sound like I have a problem with this arrangement. I’m looking forward to spending time with you. Catching up. Rebuilding our friendship.”

Friendship. The word landed in his gut like a brick.

Hello, Powell, can I paint you a picture? She only wants to be friends.

He forced a half grin. “Okay, then. Are you ready to meet the monster?”

She chuckled. “The monster?”

“Pet. She’s precious, and I love her, but she reminds me at times of Stitch.”

“What?” Zoey’s laughter bubbled through him with the effect of champagne on an empty stomach. Warming, intoxicating …

“You know, the alien from that Disney movie? A movie she loves to watch, by the way.”

“I know who Stitch is. I just can’t believe a little girl could be that bad.”

Gage popped open his door. “My sister gave Pet little, if any, structure for the last five years, so … believe it. You’ve been warned.”

He climbed out of the SUV and hauled Zoey’s bags from the rear cargo space before heading inside.

“We’re home!” he called into the house where the scent of grilled cheese and the whimsical sounds of a cartoon wafted in from the back room.

“Uncle Gage!” Pet came charging in and tackled his legs, nearly knocking him over.

He caught her under her arms and swung her up. “Hey, Squirt. Were you good for Rani?”

“Rrrowr,” Pet growled, curling her fingers into faux-claws.

“I was afraid of that.” He nodded toward Zoey. “Pet, remember I told you before my trip that I had to go help a friend? This is Zoey. She’s going to be living with us. She’s my wife now, which makes her your aunt.”

Pet eyed Zoey warily. “Is an aunt like a stepmother? In my cartoons, the stepmother is always mean.”

Zoey grinned. “Then you’re watching the wrong cartoons because all the stepmothers I know are really nice. And aunts are even better. Aunts are fun.”

Pet’s eyes brightened, and she looked to him for confirmation.

Gage nodded. “Yep, you and Zoey can have lots of fun together.”

“Hey, Mr. Gage. How was the trip?” Rani Ogatini, a college student with the patience of a saint and an obvious love for young children, strolled in from the kitchen.

“Successful. Rani, this is Zoey Ban—er, Zoey Powell. My new wife.”

His use of his last name clearly startled Zoey, who blinked at him before shaking hands with Rani and offering a bright smile.

“So you’re Gage’s monster wrangler?” Zoey asked after the traditional pleasantries and congratulations on their wedding had been exchanged. The sweep of his bride’s gaze clearly sized up the attractive coed even as she made nice.

Rani gave her a wry grin. “Aw, Pet’s not that bad. She’s just got a lot of energy and a wild imagination.”

Gage scoffed. “You say tom-A-to, I say to-MAH-to. Seems to me she’s on a mission to find the most unusual way to end up in the emergency room at the most inconvenient hour possible.” He set Pet on the floor and ruffled her hair. “Am I right?”

“Hey, I learned a new trick!” She tugged his arm. “Wanna see me do a cannonball?”

He groaned. “I rest my case.”

Rani raised a hand. “I showed her how to put the sofa cushions on the floor and made her swear not to do her tricks without them.”

Gage nodded, impressed. “Well, that’s progress. Let me write your check, and you can be on your way. I’m sure you have plenty to catch up on after four days cooped up with Pet.”

“Anytime. I like her. She’s a hoot.” Rani faced Zoey. “I made a pot of vegetable soup and some grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. The sandwiches are on warm in the oven.”

“Great. Thanks. I thought I knew the meaning of hungry before, but this pregnancy stuff has taught me a new definition of starved.”

Rani glanced at Gage as if she weren’t sure she’d heard Zoey correctly. He flashed his babysitter a confident smile and nodded as he tore her check out of his checkbook. “Zoey is due in April. You don’t have a problem with keeping a newborn, do you?”

“Uh … no. I …” More confused and startled blinking. “Wow. Congratulations.” She accepted the check and stuffed it in her jeans pocket without looking at it. “I’ll get out of your hair. You know how to reach me if you need me again.”

“You bet.” After Gage showed Rani out, he joined Zoey in the living room where Pet was bouncing on the sofa springs and launching herself onto a pile of cushions with an enthusiasm he was sure would translate into more daring escapades before long. God help him. “I can show you to your room now if you want.”

Zoey shook her head. “I wasn’t kidding about being starved. The room will wait. I’m not sure the baby will. Can we eat first?”

“Whatever. This is your home now. Make yourself comfortable.” To Pet, he said, “Okay, Squirt, time to eat. Wash your hands.”

Pet ignored him, climbing on the sofa to launch herself onto the cushions again.

Grasping Pet’s upper arm, he stopped her as she mounted the sofa the next time and looked straight into her eyes. “Petunia, it’s dinnertime. Go wash your hands and sit at the table.”

“No! I’m not hungry.” Pet tried to pull free, and when he didn’t release her, she jumped up and down in place with a haughty smirk on her face.

Gage took a deep breath and knelt in front of his niece, using both hands to hold her as still as a five-year-old monster could be held. “Pet, do you want time-out?”

“No!”




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