Free Something Unexpected by WENDY WARREN Page B

He quirked a brow, and her blush deepened. “I know how. But I’ve been wracking my brain—” she sniffled loudly “—and I can’t remember not using a condom.” She looked at him in question, biting her lower lip.
    Immediately, his groin tightened. He wanted to soothe that worried lower lip with his own mouth. He couldn’t help it: he chuckled, drawing a surprised and resentful look from her. “Sorry, but when I think about that night—which I find myself doing frequently, by the way—condoms are hardly ever the first things that come to mind.” Reaching into the bakery bag, Dean pulled out a napkin, but rather than handing it to her, he brought the makeshift tissue to her nose and dabbed lightly.
    When she grabbed the napkin to do the job herself, it didn’t surprise him. Somehow, in some way, she had been hurt, and he was willing to bet that a man had done the deed. You nearly messed her up for anyone else, buddy. Nearly.
    Bending over her dark, curly head while she delicately blew her nose, he murmured, “So are condoms really all you think about when you remember that night? When you remember us?”
    She gasped so hard, he was afraid she might inhale the napkin. He chose not to relent.
    â€œThere is an us, you know. Like it or not, what we started that night is something that owns us both now. Two people, one cause. And, like it or not, passion made that baby you’re refusing to feed. So, like it or not, I do care whether you eat. I care where my baby is going to live and how easy or difficult it’s going to be to get to him. And, I care that that single night in the motel was the best sex I’ve ever had. In my life. Bar none. You may be over it, Rosie, but I’m not. Not by a long shot.”
    He sat up straight, reached for his sandwich again and winked at her as he took a bite.
    Her eyes were wide and troubled; her soft, plump mouth formed a huge O. A pulse throbbed visibly in her neck, the rhythm reminding him more of a marimba band than a heartbeat.
    Yep. He’d made his point.
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    â€œYour one-night stand lives in the same town you do, and you were together when you found out you were pregnant even though you hadn’t seen each other since that night?” Daphne recapped what Rosemary had just told her, her sweet voice rising in disbelief.
    â€œYes,” Rosemary said, trapping the cordless phone between her shoulder and ear while she rummaged through her kitchen pantry, looking for dinner.
    Confused, nervous and tense as piano wire since seeing Dean earlier in the day, she had finally decided to break her silence about the pregnancy. After giving brief—verybrief—consideration to phoning her mother or one of her sisters, she had decided to lean on Daphne, the only one of her friends so baby crazy that news of a pregnancy, no matter how it had come about, would be received with joyous anticipation.
    â€œDo you feel any different?” Daphne asked with keen interest. “Do you feel pregnant?”
    â€œI’m hungry all the time.” She shoved three baked BBQ potato chips into her mouth, grabbed another handful before she made herself roll up the bag then reached for peanut-butter-stuffed pretzels.
    â€œAre you having cravings?”
    â€œYeah.” The potato chips did a quick disappearing act. “I’m craving food.” Biting the tip off the pretzel, Rosemary sucked out the candylike nut butter. “When I’m not throwing up. I hate throwing up. But I’m dizzy and nauseous every morning the second I open my eyes. It doesn’t go away until late afternoon, and then I’m ravenous the rest of the night.”
    â€œPoor baby.” Daphne murmured. “What does your doctor say?”
    â€œI haven’t seen one yet. I’m going this Friday for the first time. I found an ob-gyn in Bend. That’s over an hour from here, which should minimize the likelihood of