Free Something Unexpected by WENDY WARREN

popped out along his upper lip. He wiped it away, clearing his throat. “It’s warm today.”
    Rosie dragged the edges of her sweater closer together. “I’m a little chilly.” Taking the sandwich he offered her, she gave him a weak smile. “This looks good. Thank you.”
    â€œMy pleasure. My sister-in-law works at Honey Bea’s.” He passed her a napkin and a bottle of sweetened iced tea. “She’s hoping to become a full partner this year.”
    â€œI’ve been in the bakery once or twice.” Delicately his lunch mate peeled the plastic wrap from a thick, soft roll Dean’s brother had dubbed The Rozzy Roll in honor of his toddler daughter, who loved to gnaw them until they were paste. Rosie smiled ruefully. “Generally I try to stay out of bakeries. Also ice-cream parlors and candy stores. I have a runaway sweet tooth.”
    â€œYour figure hasn’t suffered.” He squelched an urge to leer. “Take my word for it.”
    She ducked her head briefly, making it impossible to gaugeher reaction then said, “I’m going to have to be more careful than ever now that I’m—”
    Abruptly she cut herself off, as if refusing to discuss the situation with him would make it less real, or would make him less a part of it.
    â€œPregnant,” he finished for her. Polite or no, he by-God wasn’t going to let her skirt the issue. If he did, she’d avoid him until it was time for her to push his baby out.
    â€œI’ll remember that you’re pregnant, Rosie, whether you mention it or not.” Though there was no one nearby to overhear, he spoke quietly, intently, declaring the intimacy that linked them more loudly than if he’d shouted. “And I do recall…in detail…how you got that way. I remember every time I look at you.” Seeing her eyes grow big and round, he hammered home one final point. “Eat. We Kingsleys love a good meal.”
    He could tell by her expression that she got the drift: this baby was going to be a Kingsley, and he was going to be a very present father. He hadn’t considered the day-to-day reality of that nor had he considered any alternatives, but now that he’d spoken he knew exactly where he stood. The only question worth contemplating was whether they were going to parent together or apart.
    And, what he was going to do about the damned will.
    Looking away, though he wanted nothing more than to crush her to him and see if she tasted as good as she had that night, he concentrated on unwrapping the sandwich instead of the woman. The hunger in his stomach was weak and puny compared to another, more pressing appetite.
    All his adult life, Dean had prided himself on being a gentleman. Animals reacted from instinct; human beings used reason to control their behavior. Fletcher had taken the opposite tack for his first twenty-eight years, generally actingrashly and claiming he left the thinking to Dean. For the first time, Dean envied his younger brother’s lack of caution.
    The muscles throughout his midsection clenched. Controlling himself with effort, he took a bite of turkey with avocado and Havarti, but his favorite sandwich was tasteless today.
    â€œI have been giving a great deal of thought to our…situation.” The voice that came from his right was soft and hesitant, almost as if Rosie were speaking to herself.
    At least she said “our” situation, he told himself, swallowing the bite of sandwich and turning toward her fully. “And?”
    Her fingers gripped the sandwich. “What you said before—about this town being too small to have a neutral conversation—I know you were being facetious, but it’s true in a way. Honeyford’s not tiny, but two people with jobs as public as ours are bound to the object of gossip if someone finds out about…”
    â€œOur situation,” he supplied