Chapter 1

One

Gabriella

" Y ou're gonna be a momma!"

I tipped my head to the side and narrowed my eyes on Amber, my best friend and a med student who was always more than happy to offer me free medical advice.

Most of the time her diagnoses were spot on. There were, however, a few occasions when she'd spent too much time studying a disease or rare condition and saw symptoms of it everywhere she looked. Like the time she told my boss at Inked Forever he had the plague.

Or like now.

I shake my head emphatically. "Yeah, um nope. Wrong, amiga . Sorry. That's just not possible." I shook my head. "You of all people should know how lacking my love life has been. It's been so long I don't even remember what the male sex organ looks like."

That last part was a flat-out lie. I knew exactly when I'd had my last orgasm that involved another person and his very long hard body and even harder cock.

Three months.

I looked outside the window and wished I could be like the beach goers walking up and down the sandy sidewalks. College kids with no care in the world. All they wanted was a good day at the beach, tomorrow not even a blimp on their radar.

I turned my attention back to my problem. Three long, freaking miserable months.

I got dumped by Daniel the Douchebag. Back then Lover's Cove—my little seaside town— seemed like the perfect spot for me. A steady flow of clients wanting tattoos, beach, sand, and sun.

Then Daniel happened. Thinking on it, I didn't so much get dumped as get front row tickets to the show of finding my ex-boyfriend involved in acrobatic sexual acts with three women. None of them being me.

Technically I was the dumper, but I'd have to say, finding out he scheduled regular sexcapades with several of his co-workers, I felt more like the dumpee. The rat bastard.

My mind rushed over the events that followed the unpleasant discovery—the bar, my overconsumption of many margaritas, the sexy marine who teased me out of my melancholy and right into bed with him.

I'd called him my one-time fuck boy that ended up with me getting my ass spanked and an extra dose of his hot loving that night.

A tiny smile tugged the corner of my lips up.

And it didn't stop there. He had me against the wall, in the shower, on the little kitchenette countertop. Pretty much any surface my hot one-night stand could use to bury himself as deeply as possible inside my very wet pussy.

Not even a sliver of my ex's memory could ruin the one time in my life I let a sexy stranger have his way with my body.

"Oh, God, you're thinking about him again, aren't you? You're one-nightstand fuck boy, as you like to say. Damn, that must have been one helluva night. You get this little daydreamy look about you. Don't try to lie."

I blinked and focused back on my BFF. "Sorry. Drifted off there for a second, didn't I." I can't hold back my smile.

She rolled her eyes but then her lips tightened and concern came through clear in her gaze. "The one time I go out of town and you decide to party." My friend paused and turned serious. "Is there something you're not telling me about that night? I promise I won't judge. You know me."

Amber held up one hand and placed the other over her heart.

I did, but that didn't mean I couldn't keep a few details secret. She knew most of everything about that night. All but the finer details. Those I kept close to my heart and deep inside my memory. Just for me. For the times when loneliness took over.

"I've taken to trolling bars and picking up strange men in the hopes they'd give me the naughty tingles the way Mac did." I pursed my lips and waggled my brows.

Her eyes grew wide with fake surprise. "Girl, I wish!" Her question came out in a breathless whisper.

I laughed. "Me too. Sometimes. Ya know, I wish it were that easy. I fear there won't ever be another man like him."

She was the only person in the world I shared every secret with. After everything we'd been through together—two horrific foster homes, getting spit out of the system the second we turned eighteen, rotten jobs, living in dive apartments through four years of college, breakups, breakdowns, and all the usual messes life brought—she was the one person I trusted.

"Ya know, thinking about it, I could do with a night out. Maybe…"

The door to the exam room opened and the doctor who ran the small clinic where Amber volunteered stuck her head in. "Oops. Sorry, I didn't know you had a patient in here." Her eyes skimmed over me where I sat on the end of the exam table and then came back and rested more fully on me. "Oh, hey, Gabriella."

"Hi, Dr. Walker." I smiled.

"Everything okay?" Dr. Walker's gaze darted between the two of us.

"Actually…" Amber started while bugging her eyes out at me.

I knew what she wanted—permission to talk to Dr. Walker about my "condition."

I shrugged.

"Gabriella has been having some symptoms so I had her come in today. I hope that's okay?"

"Of course. That's what we're here for," Dr. Walker said. "Do you need help?"

Amber opened her mouth, but before she could speak, I jumped in.

"Yes. Please." I shot an apologetic smile toward Amber. I didn't want to step on her toes, but in this particular case, I really wouldn't mind a second opinion. "I was telling Amber I've been having weird headaches that come out of nowhere, nausea on and off throughout the day for the last few weeks, and I feel like I can never get enough sleep. I've only had very spotty periods, but that's not totally out of the ordinary for me. I've always been irregular."

"And I did all the standard stuff. Blood pressure, weight, medical history, and," Amber shot me a look loaded with meaning, "a pregnancy test. I wouldn't normally do based on what I know about Gabriella's history, but I figured it couldn't hurt."

Dr. Walker stepped more fully inside the little exam room and closed the door. "Sounds like you did all the right things."

"Except for the fact she gave me the wrong diagnosis," I said. "Amber thinks I'm pregnant. But it's impossible."

"I don't think you're pregnant, Gabriella. This isn't my opinion. Your pregnancy test came out positive, sweetheart. And I ran it twice to be sure. Two positives do not make a negative."

I shrugged. "Faulty tests?"

"Can I ask why you think it's impossible, Gabriella?" Dr. Walker asked.

Mild embarrassment sent a tingle of heat across my cheeks. "I haven't had sex in, three months. I would know by now if I were pregnant. Right?"

Instead of calming my fears with a ‘you're absolutely right' or maybe a ‘true, you're good to go' the doctor shared a look with my friend causing my stomach to bottom out. Her next words didn't help.

"I see."

"But how would we get two positive results?" Amber asked.

Dr. Walker looked at me and an odd expression flashed in her eyes. "Gabriella, did you and your last sexual partner use protection or are you on the pill?"

Images of my night with Captain Mac Becker flashed through my mind. There had been something primal about the way we were together. Wild. But we'd used protection. Through all the passion and mind-blowing sex, we were clear-headed enough to grab protection.

"Condoms." The single word was pulled from me like molasses pouring from a bottle. I could feel my cheeks burn before I made my next confession. "I never, ever, ever have one-night stands, but well, I might have just that one time. But we were safe and we used a condom."

Actually, we'd used condoms. Many many condoms. Which is one of the reasons the night was so memorable. I might not have been my usual self when it came to hooking up with a guy I just met. But I absolutely, positively did not let go of my number one rule when it came to sexual partners—no glove, no love.

Dr. Walker gave me a kind smile. "No judgments here. Do you mind if I do an ultrasound? At three months we will get a definitive answer for sure."

I glanced at Amber and she gave me a nod. I turned back to the doctor with a shrug. "I guess that's okay."

She pressed her lips together for a second, her expression delivering an apology. "I'm sorry, but I think our best bet is to do a transvaginal ultrasound so we can check thoroughly and on multiple points at once, okay? I'll need you to change into a gown. You can leave your bra and socks on."

Who cared about socks right now!

I had no clue what a transvaginal ultrasound was and I'm pretty sure I'd be happy to get through the rest of my life without that knowledge. I opened my mouth to share that with Dr. Walker, but Amber locked eyes with me and headed me off.

"I'll get her set up, Dr. Walker. No worries."

I glared at Amber while the doctor hurried from the room. "I think this is totally unnecessary."

"Mmhmm. I'm sure you do."

"But I really don't?—"

"Stop being a chicken shit and get this over with so we can go out tonight and celebrate me becoming an aunt."

Amber ignored my spluttering and moved around the room, pulling a screen out from the wall and placing a paper gown on a stool behind it. "Get changed."

Her set expression told me two things. One, she wasn't about to let me get out of here without a full workup to figure out what was wrong with me. And two, she'd tackle me if she had to.

I'd known Amber long enough. I wasn't about to put her to the test. I grumbled while I did it, but I jumped down and stepped behind the screen, and stripped off my black sleeveless T-shirt. I adjusted my bra with a sigh. My already abundant curves had begun to spill over the tops of the cups in recent months.

I pushed my jeans over my hips, pausing to run my fingers over the red welts left behind on the curve of my waist. I wiggled them the rest of the way down and kicked off my black Converse as I went.

The extra snug fit of my clothing lately hadn't escaped my notice. I'd just attributed it to my addiction to caramel macchiatos with extra whip cream, White Russians, and late-night trips to the café next to my apartment for beignets.

A shot of cold fear raced through me at the thought that it was none of those things that turned my figure from curvy to downright voluptuous.

"I'm not pregnant," I called over the screen, though I'm not sure if I was trying to convince Amber or myself.

"Okay, babe," was her only response.

I tied the strings around my waist and stepped out from behind the screen, the paper gown sticking out from my body at odd angles and rustling with every step I took.

Amber's lips pressed together and she scanned my face. "Are you all right? You're not gonna faint, right?"

"I'm fine. I promise." I stretched my lips into what I hoped would pass for a smile and stopped in front of the waist-high counter that ran along one side of the small exam room.

I straightened a folder so it sat at a right angle to the counter's edge, and lined two pens up in straight lines beside it. I eyeballed the jars containing cotton balls, tongue depressors, and cotton swabs. Pushing one back against the wall so it was even with the others, I twisted another so the sign on the front faced out.

"You are most definitely not okay," Amber accused, her gaze tracking my busy hands.

I opened my mouth with a smart retort when Dr. Walker came in pulling a small cart with a monitor behind her. "Want to hop up on the table, Gabriella?"

I couldn't think of anything I would rather do less, but I was pretty sure she didn't actually expect an answer.

Amber helped me to get up on the table and lie back. My eyes must have popped open wide when I saw the wand Dr. Walker held and she explained where it would go.

"Don't worry. It's not as bad as it looks," she reassured me.

All I could do was blink and turn my attention to the ceiling tiles. If I was a praying kind of person, I might be asking for a little help here. But I wasn't sure what I'd ask for.

I gripped the sides of the table tightly until Amber slid her hand under mine. I squeezed it and she squeezed right back.

"You'll be fine, no matter what," she whispered. "And I'll be right here by your side.

I looked up into her face and nodded. She was right. Everything would be okay. She and I had gotten through so much together. This wouldn't be any different, no matter what the doctor found.

"Okay, here we go," Dr. Walker said.

I turned my head to the side and found myself staring at a black and white mishmash on the ultrasound screen. I squinted, trying to decipher something that might tell me what was going on.

Dr. Walker pressed a button on the machine and the image froze. She leaned in and put a finger on the screen. "Gabriella, say hello to your baby."

Air stopped flowing to my brain and tiny flashing dots swam in front of my eyes. Thank goodness I was lying down. My head got light and for a moment I had the sensation I floated right out of my body. The words echoed over and over again in my head.

My baby.

"Gabriella, sweetie, you okay?" Amber asked.

I turned my head toward her and blinked. Having the image of the tiny blip on the screen out of my line of sight helped to clear my mind a bit.

"It's not possible," I whispered. "I would have known sooner, right? A good mother would have known."

"Not necessarily," Dr. Walker said.

I turned toward her, tilting my chin down so I could see her and the ultrasound image was only a speck in my peripheral vision. "I swear, I haven't had sex in three months."

She nodded. "I believe you. And you don't owe anyone an explanation." She held my eyes until I nodded my understanding.

I drew my brows together. "Okay."

Amber squeezed my hand offering me her strength and I could see understanding and love for our friendship in her eyes.

"From the looks of things, you're just about three months along. The timeline fits so that should give you a level of comfort."

Three months. And I thought it was all the weekend cocktails and all the bread I loved. "Doctor, I've had stuff I shouldn't have."

Fear gripped my heart, wound around my soul, and stole my breath.

What if I've hurt my baby before it's had a chance?

My eyes flew to the screen and my hand covered my belly. Protective instincts I never knew I possessed surged to the forefront. "Is he all right? I'm not supposed to have alcohol or caffeine and I work in a tattoo shop with dyes and chemicals. Is he okay? Does that mean something could be wrong with the baby?"

"No," Dr. Walker quickly assured me. "Everything looks good. Your symptoms and the ultrasound show nothing but a very normal, typical pregnancy. Even the abdominal discomfort is to be expected. Honestly, everything looks just right."

My mind raced over the last several weeks.

Dr. Walker removed the wand from my body, pushing the stool she sat on backward. "Relax, Gabriella. You have no reason to worry. You're coming to the end of your first trimester, but right now everything looks great."

I sat up, shifting the gown over my legs. No reason to worry? Was she crazy? I had a million reasons to worry. Starting with the fact that I was pregnant with a one-night stand's baby and ending with the fact I had no experience with good parents. My own placed me in foster care before I turned two and the foster parents I had in the years between then and now were not exactly models to base my own parenting on.

The little soul inside me needed me to be strong, but I felt anything but capable. "I can't do this."

Amber draped her arm across my shoulders. "You'll be fine, Gabriella. We'll figure it all out. We always do."

"I know this is a lot to take in." Dr. Walker moved the ultrasound machine aside and came to stand on my other side.

I blinked. Once. And then again. "I can't do this. I can't…I can't do this."

"There's always foster care to consider."

"No!" A sense of protectiveness swept over me.

And at that moment the real truth hit me with the power of a freight train. I would do anything in my power to take care of the child growing in my womb. Anything.

The little soul was my family. A surge of longing shot through me at the thought and protectiveness followed hot on its heels with a violence that almost knocked me off the table.

Dr. Walker held up her hands, palms out. "My apologies. I misunderstood. When you said you couldn't do this, I assumed you meant…" She waved a hand in the air.

I shook my head and blew out a breath slowly as I felt my blood pressure climb down a notch.

"You're probably right, though. I'll probably make a terrible mother. But I'm not giving up on him."

Dr. Walker offered me a soft smile. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, Gabriella. From what I just saw, you already have the most important part of motherhood down pat —you're obviously willing to do anything to protect your baby. I have no doubt you'll be a wonderful mother."

I prayed she was right.

I nodded, but my mind started to speed ahead, trusting Amber to get all the info about prenatal vitamins and follow-up appointments.

My baby. How was this all going to work? I was clueless just thinking about how to change a diaper or deal with midnight feedings.

Add the thought of leaving my baby with a stranger while I worked made my hackles rise.

"So, I think that's everything. Do you have any questions?"

Amber nudged me and I made an effort to tune back in. "I'm sorry?"

"Do you have any more questions for me?" Dr. Walker asked.

Was she kidding? I had so many questions they were caught in a bottleneck as they tried to wedge their way through my brain. I opened my mouth and closed it again and just shook my head.

"Not right now," I finally managed to get out. "But I'm sure once this all sinks in, I'll have a million for you."

She smiled and patted my arm. "You can feel free to call me any time. I know all this must be overwhelming."

"Thanks for everything, Dr. Walker."

"You're welcome. I'll see you soon." She stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding and turned to Amber. "I am awake, right?"

Amber gathered me tight in her arms and rocked me for a second. "You are, sweetie. But I promise it'll all be fine."

I nodded my head against her shoulder, waiting for panic or fear or elation or… anything to move through me. But at that point, I was more than a little shell-shocked.

Amber pulled back a little bit and looked down into my face. "What do you want to do now?"

I think she meant right that second. Like did I want to go home or go somewhere I could stuff myself with hot beignets and caramel macchiatos until the whole world faded into one giant sugar-coated blur.

But instead, I answered her with a sureness that surprised even me.

"I want to find my baby's father. I need Mac."