More Than She Expected Read online

  “And you think my wall is it?”

  “Could be,” he said with a shrug—and another wink—before getting up again, grabbing the tea to finish it off. Laurel sighed.

  “What?” he said, twisting the cap back on.

  “Are you even aware you’re flirting with me?”

  He actually blushed. “Sorry, I... No. I mean, that’s just me.” Which was exactly what she’d thought. “Didn’t mean to offend you or anything—”

  “Oh, I’m not offended at all. Amused, perhaps. And I was going to say flattered.” She sighed. “Until you made it clear it’s not personal.”

  “It’s not. I mean...please don’t take this the wrong way, but—”

  Yes, that was the story of her life, wasn’t it? And again, exactly as she’d figured. “S’okay, I totally get it. Really. But you might want to pull back on the flirting thing. Because someday, somebody is going to take it the wrong way. And that wouldn’t be good.”

  “No, ma’am, it sure wouldn’t.”

  Thirty-five, and already ma’amed. So sad.

  “So. Anyway,” he said, “I’ll get the footing poured tomorrow. Once that’s set I can start building the wall in the evenings. I don’t intend for it to take too long, though—I miss my dog too much.”

  “Oh, that’s right—where is Boomer?”

  “At my brother’s. Matt’s Newfoundland and Boomer are best buds—”

  “A Newfie? Wow.”

  “Wow, is right. Alf’s paw’s about the same size as Boomer’s head.”

  Laurel stood as well, the breeze messing with her loose top. “So you have a brother?” At Tyler’s puzzled frown, she smiled. “I’m an only. The idea of siblings always intrigued me.”

  With a slight snort, Tyler grabbed the shirt, yanked it over his head. “Actually, I’ve got two. And two sisters.”

  “Seriously? Kudos to your mom.” Little Bits started up with his jazz routine, but Laurel stopped herself from laying a hand over her tummy. Even though she had no idea why, it wasn’t as if this was a secret. “That’s a lot of babies to push out.”

  “Actually, she didn’t. Except for Abby, the youngest, the rest of us were adopted. And there was always the occasional foster, too—”

  “So your family is the one Gran was talking about!”

  “Excuse me?”

  “When I told her your name, she wondered if your dad was Preston Noble.”

  “That’s him, yeah. He—they—adopted me when I was ten.”

  “She remembered briefly meeting him and your mom, when my grandfather was still alive. So, years ago. How are they?”

  “Pop’s doing okay, I guess. But Mom...she passed away several years ago.”

  “Oh...I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, it was rough on the old man. And Abs, she was only fourteen, fifteen, something like that.” He paused then said quietly, “It’s rough, losing your mother when you’re still a kid. Which I guess you know all about, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  He picked up the tablet, tucking it to his side. “Mom was great,” he said softly. “Not that the Colonel wasn’t—isn’t—but she was more about going with the flow. Pop’s...he’s a good man, don’t get me wrong, but he had pretty definite ideas about how things should be done—” His phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket, frowned. “Damn, it’s later than I thought. I really need to go—”

  “No, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to keep you.”

  “Look, I meant it, about wanting you to come see that fountain. Make sure you really like it before I lug it over here. Whenever you want... Here.” He dug in the same pocket for a business card. “If I’m not there, Abs will be. So. Deal?”

  “Deal,” Laurel said, and he smiled. Like, right into her eyes, smiled. Then he hopped over the trench and up on his own deck before she finally hauled herself onto hers and back inside, where she turned on the central air the previous owners had installed, bless their hot little hearts.

  Unbuttoning her blouse, she stood in the middle of the living room, where cool air washed over her bare, bulging belly. Not as much as some bellies bulged at five months, perhaps, but she definitely no longer looked as though she’d just gone on a doughnut binge.

  As in, soon people would start noticing.

  Like, say, hunky neighbors and such.

  Hunky neighbors who were surprisingly easy to talk to, given how uneasy and tongue-tied and awkward she usually felt around men.

  Not bothering to button her top—like who was gonna see?—Laurel returned to the kitchen for her own bottle of tea, reminding herself that even if she hadn’t been pregnant, Tyler and she would have never happened. For a whole slew of reasons, spoken, unspoken, sort-of spoken...whatever. That, frankly, as sweet a kid as he was—and as much as her libido was letting her fantasies run amok—compared with her, he was a kid. And she hadn’t been a kid since...well, ever, really.

  She twisted off the cap, took a long swallow, then rubbed the cold, smooth bottle to her overheated forehead. Because for too many years—and except for one single, if major, lapse of judgment—she’d been about what made sense. What was practical.

  Which Tyler Noble was definitely not.

  On her return to her living room, her laptop once more caught her eye. She should really try to get at least a couple pages done today. Except, you know what? Her deadline wasn’t for another month. And last week the words had flowed quite nicely, thank you. So if all went well she’d get the next book in well before the baby came, and then...

  And then, she thought on a sharp intake of air.

  Her life would change forever.

  A little freaked, truth be told, Laurel plopped on her sofa and grabbed the remote, clicking through the menu until she found, of all things, a cooking show. Since, if she was going to be somebody’s mother, she should probably learn how to feed the kid.

  Because that was the practical thing to do.

  * * *

  Judging from the sounds and scents when Ty stopped by his brother Matt’s after work to pick up the beast, everybody was in the backyard, where Matt’s fiancée’s kids rushed him and both dogs serenaded him like they’d been apart for years.

  In front of the grill, Matt was tending enough burgers to feed all of Maple River. Boomer duly acknowledged and reassured, Ty scooped Aislin, Kelly’s curly-headed three-year-old, into his arms and marched over, his stomach rumbling and his head fizzing a little, like it always did when he was around kids. Especially cuties like this one.

  “Weren’t expecting you ’til later,” Matt said, flipping the sizzling meat and sending a plume of cow-scented smoke wafting into the humid, early-evening air. “Thought you had a date.”

  “She canceled,” he said. Matt gave him a look; Ty shrugged. “It was pretty much done, anyway.” His older brother gave a low chuckle. “What?”

  “Nothing. You wanna stay for dinner? Kelly made potato salad that’ll make you weep, no lie. And some ridiculous dessert.” Ty’s future sister-in-law was a caterer. Damn good one, too. “Seriously, if you don’t help us eat this stuff, I’m not gonna fit in my uniform anymore.”

  “Can’t stay. Since, now that I’m free—”

  “Again. Or is that still?”

  Tyler ignored him. “I might as well start on the wall. And you’re a detective, when was the last time you wore a uniform?”

  “Whatever—”

  “Hey, Uncle Ty!” Tyler grinned over as Cooper, Kelly’s eight-year-old son sprinted across the grass, the late-day sun glinting off his glasses, his warm brown curls. Ty gave the kid a high five.

  “How’s it goin’, dude?”

  “Great! Dad said he’s gonna set up one of those big swimming pools, right over there!” He pointed to the far corner of the yard, where the Boomer and Alf wer
e noisily wrestling. “Cool, huh?”

  “Very cool,” Ty said, shooting his brother a glance. Then, to Coop again: “You can swim?”

  “Not yet, but Dad signed Linnie and me up at the Y for lessons—”

  “Hey, sport, these are almost done. Go see if your mom’s got the rest of the food ready.”

  “On it!”

  Linnie squealed to get down; Ty obliged, watching the kids bound off before turning back to his brother. “Dad?” he said, shoving aside the strangest twinge of...something.

  Underneath a dark beard haze that passed five-o’clock shadow at least three days ago, Matt grinned. “It just popped out the other day. Not sure which of us was more surprised.”

  “I can imagine. How’s it feel?”

  His brother lowered the lid on the grill, then crossed his arms. “Amazing? Scary? Humbling, for sure.” Matt glanced toward the house. “I only hope I don’t screw it up.”

  Like Tyler, Matt—and his twin sister, Sabrina, who lived in Manhattan—had been adopted when they were older, in their case after their parents died in a car crash. And, since Matt never mentioned his father, Ty suspected there were some unresolved issues there. True, they’d only been six when their folks died, but some things imprint early. He should know.

  “Screw it up? Are you kidding? You’ve so got this, man.” Ty clapped his brother’s shoulder. “Seriously.”

  Matt sighed, but through a crooked smile. Dude was the happiest Ty had ever seen him. After his skank ex had cheated on him like that? On somebody who, as far as Ty knew, had never done anything wrong in his entire freaking life? He totally deserved to be happy—

  “So you ready for the wedding?” Matt asked.

  “Hey. All I have to do is show up.” He snatched a piece of American cheese off the plate by the grill. “You’re the one getting married. Again.”

  “Your time will come, buddy. Yes, it will, don’t give me that look. You sure you don’t want to stay for dinner? Or you just gonna eat all my cheese?”

  “Don’t hold your breath, no, and don’t get your boxers in a bunch, there’s still four pieces left. Okay, three,” he said, stuffing another slice in his mouth.

  “Why aren’t you staying?” Kelly appeared like an apparition, setting a bowl of creamy potato salad flecked with bits of red and green something or other on the tempered glass table beside him.

  “The wall,” he said, trying not to drool, and she nodded.

  “Right. Forgot. Then at least let me send home a doggie bag—”

  “You don’t have to do that...”

  “No arguments. There’s plenty. And if you stare any harder at the potato salad you’re going to meld with it. Coop, honey? Go get... Oh, never mind, I’ll do it.” She patted Ty’s shoulder. “Do not move.”

  After she tromped off, her red curls bouncing between her shoulder blades, Matt chuckled. “The woman lives to feed people. I am so blessed.”

  It was true, Ty thought later, as, laden with enough rations to see him through next winter, he parked in his driveway, Boomer panting his head off behind him. His brother had been blessed, in ways Matt probably couldn’t have imagined a few months ago. But then, he’d always wanted a family. Kids. And Ty had no doubt his big brother, who used to keep an eye on all of them like a frickin’ sheep dog, would make a damn good father. Ty, however...

  The very thought made him shudder. Not that he wasn’t crazy about his nieces and nephews—their oldest brother, Ethan, had four kids—but having his own? No way. As far as that went—he shoved the dog’s head out of the bag of food, grabbed it and got out of the car—he definitely knew who he was. Or, in this case, wasn’t—

  “Boomer! What the hell? Get over here!”

  Halfway to Laurel’s, the dog stopped in his tracks, turned around. But only to plant his butt in the grass, then look over his shoulder. Then again at Tyler, all jowly pleading. In the distance, thunder rumbled from black-as-soot clouds, threatening another storm. So much for working outside tonight. Although, truth be told, by the time he finished eating it’d probably be too dark—and he’d be too wiped out—to get much done, anyway.

  Then, faintly, even over Laurel’s rumbling air conditioner unit and another round of thunder, Tyler heard music. Not clearly enough to make out what it was, even when he went closer—to get his mule-headed dog—but definitely not punk rock.

  He grabbed the dog’s collar and marched him back to the house and up the steps...where he looked over at Laurel’s prissy little house, which sat more forward on the lot than his did. Meaning he could see in her side window pretty good. She had a lamp on, her back to him as she worked at her computer. She’d bunched her hair into a pair of ridiculous-looking ponytails sticking out on either side of her head...and she was swaying to the music. Like, from the depths of her soul.

  And...singing?

  She stretched out her arms, her head falling back... Yep. Singing.

  He laughed out loud.

  And Boomer whined, straining to break free of Ty’s grasp. He looked at those pitiful yellow eyes, that even more pitiful underbite...and Kelly had hooked him up with so much food, he’d never be able to eat it all...

  This, he could share. In fact, it would be wrong not to.

  Phone in hand, he scrolled through his contacts and pressed Send, smiling when he saw Laurel jump. She fumbled for her phone beside the laptop, but he couldn’t see her expression when she checked the display.

  “Ty? What—?”

  “You eat yet?”

  She paused, still staring at her computer screen. “Why?”

  “Turn around.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Just do it.”

  She did, gasping a little when she saw him watching her. The phone still to her ear, she got up, came to the window. Opened it. Now he could hear the music, some kind of jazz. Sultry. Blood-stirring. Was she wearing...pajamas? Hard to tell behind the screen.

  “What are you doing?”

  Pocketing his phone, Tyler held up the bag. A rain-scented breeze skirted across the porch, messing with his hair. “Inviting you to share a feast. And you can put down the phone now.”

  “Oh. Right.” She did. “What kind of feast?”

  “Burgers. Potato salad. Regular salad with homemade ranch dressing. And some dessert that defies description.”

  “Where did you—?”

  “From my brother and sister-in-law. Well, soon to be. In a month. She’s a caterer. As in, her cooking kicks butt. You do not want to pass this up, believe me.”

  Laurel lifted her hand to the back of her neck. Apparently felt the ponytails. “I’m already in my jammies,” she said, yanking out first one, then the other, band. She ruffled her hair. To make it lay down again, he supposed. Didn’t work.

  “So I see,” he said. “You do realize it’s only seven-thirty?”

  “Since I wasn’t expecting company, what’s it to you?”

  He grinned. “Should I put mine on, too?”

  “Let me guess. You don’t wear any.”

  “You spoiled the surprise,” he said, and she laughed. “So. You want to help Boomer and me eat this stuff or not?”

  “Do I have to get dressed?”

  “Not on my account. Do I have to stay dressed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Party pooper,” he said, and she laughed again.

  “Bring the dog. We’ll eat outside!”

  * * *

  Laurel’d eaten dinner already, of course. Hours ago. But the budding baby carnivore in her womb leaped at the prospect of hamburgers. And potato salad. As long as the salad was fresh and the hamburgers well-done. Because she wasn’t taking any chances.

  As if she hadn’t done that already, she thought, ramming a comb through her sticky-outty hair. An
d was doing it again, since simply letting Tyler come over was a challenge to what little was left of her hormone-ravaged sanity.

  She tossed a lightweight robe on over the pajamas, a set of her grandfather’s she found while packing up Gran’s house. Silk, no less. Comfy as hell. And roomy enough to hide an elephant in. Or, in this case, her little passenger.

  The doorbell rang. The loose robe flapping around her thighs, she tramped barefoot through the house and opened the door, bending to get kisses from Boomer before grinning up at Tyler. All nonchalant and stuff.

  “I thought the deal was, you were supposed to build the wall and I’d supply the food?”

  “And you still can. Just not tonight.” He came in, handing her the bag. “You sure about outside? Sounds like a storm’s coming in.”

  “Not here yet, is it?”

  “True.”

  She carried the food to her kitchen, Boomer keeping her company as she emptied the bag of its carefully packed goodies—still-warm burgers swaddled in heavy-duty foil, the salads in plastic containers inside a thermal lunch box. With an ice pack. Laurel smiled: Whoever this chick was, she already liked her.

  “Nice place,” Tyler called from the living room.

  “Isn’t it exactly like yours?”

  “Not even remotely. I mean, your place actually looks like a grown-up lives here.” He came to the door, leaning on the jamb with his thumbs tucked in his pockets. Grinning. Sexy as hell. “Although the colors are a little girlie for my taste.”

  “Well, since a girl lives here, it’s all good. Let’s see...I’ve got tea, milk or water to go with. Name your poison.”

  “No beer? Or even soda?”

  “’Fraid not,” she said. “Hate the taste of beer, and I stopped drinking soda years ago. Although...hang on...”

  She opened the fridge, rummaging about for a moment until she found the half-drunk bottle of white wine, way in the back. She pulled it out, triumphant. “Ta-da!”

  Tyler looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Really?”

  “What?”

  “A, white wine with burgers? And B, how old is that?”