Ten

TEN

Mia

"You're back."

I was back.

And this was going to be so embarrassing.

"I'm back," I confirmed, offering an awkward smile as I held a covered dish up between Brock and me as we stood at the door to his detached garage. "Do you like cookies?"

Brock smiled at me, a light in his eyes I'd seen on several occasions now. "I love cookies."

"Then these are for you," I declared proudly.

He chuckled and said, "Sounds like I'm a lucky guy. Would you mind hanging on to them and following me into the house, though? I just finished up out here, but my hands have been all over the metal and equipment, and I'd like to wash them before even coming close to the food."

I offered a nod in return. "Sure."

Brock stepped away from the door, turned off a light over a workbench, came back to where I was, turned out the overhead lights, and stepped outside next to me, closing the door behind him.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yep."

He jerked his head toward his house, and the two of us made our way there. On the way, Brock filled the silence. "So, am I to assume these cookies were the reason you stopped over to my house earlier this morning for those two eggs?"

"They are," I confirmed.

God, what had I been thinking?

When I woke up this morning, I had this sudden craving for lemon cookies. I tried to ignore it; I even ate something else for breakfast. But no matter how hard I tried, the craving wouldn't subside.

So, I pulled out all the ingredients I needed and realized the one thing I was missing was two eggs. I had flour, sugar, and even the lemons, but I had not a single egg in the house.

Over the last few weeks, the mere thought of smelling eggs—something I typically loved eating for breakfast—was enough to make me queasy. Not wanting to buy them in hopes that would change, only to throw them out later, I decided against purchasing them altogether. Needing them for baking hadn't crossed my mind.

And while I could have hopped in my car and driven to the store to pick up a dozen, I was desperate for the lemon cookies. Leaving would have delayed everything, so I thought I'd see if Brock could loan me two eggs that I'd replace later for him.

I'd seen him throughout the last week as we both got home from work each day. We'd chat for a few minutes before heading into each of our homes, but this would be the first I'd be back at his house since I left a week ago when I had lunch with him and Izzy.

I marched over there this morning, explained I was just about to start making something and realized I didn't have eggs, and all but begged him for two of them. He happily handed them over, insisting I didn't need to worry about replacing them.

I was delighted, practically skipping back to my house to get started on my cookies. After mixing the ingredients and getting them lined up on a baking dish, I was in my glory. As they baked in the oven, I was convinced I'd died and gone to Heaven.

But the moment I took them out and allowed them to cool slightly before taking a bite, I wanted to hurl. No matter that the house smelled utterly divine, I couldn't stomach the taste of the cookies.

Since I didn't want them to go to waste, I thought it was only fair to bring them over for Brock to enjoy. But I had a feeling he was going to think I was crazy.

Clearly, he already had some thoughts about me needing eggs to bake cookies being the reason I was on his doorstep so early this morning.

"What kind are they?" he asked, surprising me.

"Lemon. Do you like lemon cookies?" I asked.

There was an extended silence, and I could only assume he was either trying to find a nice way to tell me he hated lemon cookies or attempting to recall if he actually enjoyed them.

"I'm not sure I've ever had a lemon cookie," he finally replied.

"Really? Oh, they're so good," I insisted, holding back that I believed they were repulsive at the moment.

Brock and I walked into his house, and he immediately moved to wash his hands at the kitchen sink. I set the cookies down on the counter and waited. He grabbed a towel and dried off his hands, and for some reason I couldn't explain, my eyes were drawn to his forearms. I didn't know if it was the movement of his hands in the towel that caused the muscles in his forearms to flex that had me so distracted, but I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away from them.

God, it had been a long time since I'd been held by a man. And Brock was a big guy, a strong guy. I bet it would have felt marvelous to be held in his arms.

"Are you okay?"

The sound of his voice snapped me out of my stupor, forcing me to jerk back and shake my head. "What? Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

He narrowed his eyes, assessing me quietly. I didn't know what he was thinking, if he thought I was completely full of myself, and he didn't share. Instead, he pointed to the plate of cookies and asked, "Can I try one of those now?"

Nodding, I pushed the plate in his direction and insisted, "Yes. Yes, of course."

Brock uncovered the cookies, his eyes widening in shock. "Holy crap. These are all for me?"

"If you want them."

He seemed surprised by my response, but he lifted a cookie from the plate and took a huge bite. It wasn't difficult to recognize the instant the flavors hit his tongue. His entire expression changed, and he quickly popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth before reaching for a second one.

He liked them.

Relief swept through me.

After swallowing the last bite of the first cookie, Brock shook the second one in his hand and declared, "I've always been a traditional chocolate chip cookie lover, but I think this is easily the best thing I've ever tasted, dessert or otherwise."

I smiled at him. "Really?"

He took another massive bite. "Without a doubt. They have such a soft, slightly chewy texture, and I'm not sure if it's because they're practically just out of the oven or the lemon flavor, but they taste so fresh."

I let out a laugh. "It's probably a bit of both. And I'm glad you like them, because they're all yours then."

"That's very nice of you, Mia. Thanks. What's in these?" he asked.

I inhaled deeply, hoping I'd recall everything, and said, "Flour, baking powder, salt, butter, sugar, lemon juice, lemon zest, lemon and vanilla extract, and well, eggs."

Brock tipped his head to the side, confusion marring his features. "What?"

My body tensed. "You aren't allergic to any of those ingredients, are you?"

He shook his head. "No. No, it's just that I don't understand. You're telling me that you had all those ingredients in your house except for the eggs?"

I bit my lip and nodded. "Yes."

"That's odd. I think the eggs, sugar, butter, and salt might be all that I have here," he noted. "So, how many batches did this make? I feel like there's a lot on this plate."

"Well, yeah. The recipe makes thirty cookies, and there were twenty-nine on that tray when you opened it up."

Brock's bewilderment was plain as day. "Are you telling me you only had one of these cookies?"

"No. I'm telling you that I attempted to eat one of these cookies before I decided I did not want any of them," I blurted.

Damn.

I hadn't meant to just toss it out there like that.

"I'm so confused."

I sighed.

Maybe it was time to just come out with it.

Even if Brock was going to have negative thoughts about my situation, at least he wouldn't think I was some weirdo that went around baking batches of cookies on a whim only to consume one bite.

"I came over this morning to ask for the eggs, because I haven't had eggs in my house in weeks," I explained. "I haven't been able to eat them for breakfast recently, so I stopped buying them. I hadn't considered I might want to bake something."

"Did you get sick or something?"

"Something," I confirmed.

Concern washed over him, and he took two steps in my direction. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Why did he have to be so sweet? This man barely knew me, and his uneasiness about something being wrong with me was more than Todd had shown me.

I swallowed hard, wondering if I'd be able to handle the way he'd react, and finally revealed, "I'm pregnant."

He blinked his eyes in surprise and jerked back. "What?"

"I'm having a baby," I said, placing my hand protectively on my slightly rounded belly.

Brock's eyes dropped to my hand, and he stared for several long beats. Once again, I had not a clue what was going through his mind, but there was no question he was having a reaction to the news based on the way his eyes narrowed, then flared.

Unable to stand the silence, I figured I'd just throw it all out there. "I'm not sure if you recall, but right after I moved in next door, I was feeling incredibly exhausted. At the time, I thought it was all related to the stress associated with the move and unpacking and getting settled in a new place. While it's likely that was part of it, I learned just a few days before Christmas that there was another reason."

Something seemed to click in Brock's mind. "Didn't you tell Izzy that you broke up with your ex right before Christmas?"

"Not exactly," I said, sharing more than necessary. "Yes, we split up before Christmas, but I wasn't the one who did it."

"Does he know?"

I hesitated a beat before I shared, "I told him on Christmas Eve. We weren't trying to get pregnant. But it happened, and I thought we were solid enough that he'd be excited about the news. I was wrong."

Brock took that information in, sat with it for a few seconds, and finally replied quietly, "I'm really sorry he could do that to you, Mia. I can't imagine how lonely this must feel for you."

I nodded first, then shrugged. "It is what it is. I'm not going to do what he wanted, which was to get rid of the baby, so this is where I'm at. I'm sorry, too. This is not your thing to deal with or be worried about. I don't even know why I'm telling you. I guess… I was worried you were going to think I was a lunatic for baking a batch of cookies and giving them all away."

His features softened. "I was curious why you would do that, but I never would have thought you were a lunatic. So, you really can't stand the thought of eating them?"

Shaking my head, I let out a laugh. "Nope. But my house smelled so incredible when they were baking in the oven. As it turns out, the smell was just what I wanted, not the actual food."

Brock smiled, his lips twitching. "Lucky for me, I guess."

"Yep. I'm just glad you like the cookies."

For a brief moment, we stood there in an awkward silence. I wasn't quite sure what else to say—I probably should have skedaddled. But something kept me rooted to the spot. Whether it was Brock's gaze or something else, I didn't know.

Eventually, he asked, "How are you feeling with the… the pregnancy?"

Was he repulsed by the news, or was he unsure if he could ask the question?

"I've been doing okay," I told him. "I've got more energy now that I'm in the second trimester, so that's been a huge plus."

"And the baby's okay, right?"

My fingers pressed in firmly against my belly, an unintentional response to Brock's question. I blinked rapidly, willing the tears back.

I couldn't cry.

I didn't want to cry.

But my hormones and emotions didn't seem to care. Because despite my best efforts, the tears spilled down my cheeks.

"Oh, God," I rasped, feeling humiliated.

As I swiped at my cheeks and looked away, I heard movement. The next thing I knew, Brock's arms wrapped around me. The same arms I'd just been fantasizing about being wrapped up in for a completely different reason.

My head was instantly planted in his chest, his hand cupping the back of my skull and holding me close to him. He hushed me several times, and I fought to gain control of my breathing.

When I settled down, Brock loosened his hold slightly, and I took half a step back. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't apologize. It's not necessary. Is… is something wrong with the baby?"

"No. The baby… the baby is fine. Growing just as he or she should be."

Brock nodded his understanding, one of his hands still holding firm but gentle on my shoulder. "That's good news, Mia. Why are you crying?"

I didn't know how to answer that question. Did I come right out with the truth? Should I tell him how this baby's father wanted me to terminate the pregnancy because he was selfish?

Neither of those explanations came out of my mouth. Instead, I whispered, "You're a good guy, Brock."

His hand gave my shoulder a squeeze just before his thumb offered reassuring strokes. "And that's upsetting you?"

I closed my eyes and sighed, giving myself just a few seconds to relish the feel of his gentle touch on my shoulder. When I opened my eyes, I explained, "I took the first ultrasound pictures to my ex about a week after Christmas, and he all but shoved them back in my face, telling me he wanted nothing to do with me or the baby. You just asked me the question that my child's father never has."

"I'm really sorry, Mia. If I had known?—"

"No. No, don't apologize. I appreciate it. It means everything to me that you're that kind of guy. I just wasn't prepared for how it would make me feel."

"Is there anything I can do? If you want to talk, or if you need help with something, I'd be happy to lend a hand."

I smiled at him, swiped at my cheeks again, and shook my head. "No, I'm okay for now. I—actually, you know what?"

"What?"

After licking my lips and allowing my eyes to roam over his handsome face, I said, "We talked last weekend about getting together one night for dinner. If you're interested, I'm free tonight. And I promise I won't have a complete meltdown."

In an instant, Brock's hand fell from my shoulder, and he righted himself. The look on his face changed, worry creeping in.

That's when it hit me.

Brock might have been interested in me when he thought I was single and not carrying another man's baby. This pregnancy changed everything for him. Sure, he was a good guy, and I didn't think he'd ever be truly unkind to me, but this wasn't something he wanted in his life.

"Oh, Mia. Um, I'm really sorry, but?—"

"Silly me," I interrupted him. "What was I thinking? I'm sorry. Tonight actually doesn't work for me. I forgot that I've got… something going on. You know what? I should really get going. I just wanted to drop the cookies off for you, and I'm so glad you like them. I'm going to head out now."

I was panicking. I couldn't handle more rejection. This was all coming at me faster than I could cope with. As quickly as I could, I stepped around him and moved toward the exit.

"Mia, wait!"

My legs carried me forward. "It's okay, Brock. Really, I do need to get going."

Just as I made it to the door and pulled it open, Brock's fingers curled around my wrist. "Wait a minute," he pleaded with me.

Tears were filling my eyes again.

I needed to get out of here, but I didn't think he was going to let that happen without saying whatever he needed to say.

Pressing my lips together, I cautiously lifted my gaze to his.

"I'm so sorry about this. I'd love to get together with you, but I've already got plans for dinner tonight, and?—"

I yanked my hand from his and held it up between us. "It's okay. Honestly, don't worry about it. Enjoy your evening. Enjoy the cookies. Thank you for the eggs. And I'm sure I'll see you at the mailbox on Monday."

Without giving him a chance to respond, I turned and walked out of the house.

As quickly as my feet would take me, I moved toward my own home.

And with every step I took, my harsh new reality hit me.

Sure, I hadn't exactly been looking to dive right into another relationship immediately, but it hadn't hit me until I asked Brock to have dinner with me tonight that I realized just how unlikely the possibility of it ever happening would be.

Why would a man like Brock, who could have it all, ever want anything to do with a woman like me, someone who was already used up?