Free First Comes Baby...: The Loner's Guarded Heart by Michelle Douglas

babies and pregnancy, and it wasn’t up to her to educate him. If he wanted to be a good father he would have to educate himself, exercising his own initiative, not because she prompted or nagged him to.
    But she didn’t want the stranger back, so she kept her voice light and added, ‘Not to mention wine and coffee. All of my favourite things. Still, I seem to be finding ample consolation in passionfruit ripple ice cream.’
    She washed her hands, dried them, stowed the measurements in her handbag and then lifted an eyebrow in Ben’s direction. ‘Ready?’
    He still hadn’t moved from his spot in the doorway, but at her words he strode across to the sink to pump the strawberry-scented hand-wash she kept on the window ledge into his hands. The scent only seemed to emphasise his masculinity. She watched him wash his hands and remembered the feel of them on her abdomen, their heat and their gentleness.
    She jerked her gaze away.
    ‘Ready.’
    When she turned back he was drying his hands. And there was a new light in his eyes and a determined shape to his mouth. Normally she would take the time to dust a little powder on her nose and slick on a coat of lipstick, but she wanted to be out of the house and into the day. Right now!
    She led the way to her car.
    ‘Okay, the plan today is to hire a marquee for the big event—along with the associated paraphernalia. Tables chairs and whatnot,’ she said as they drove the short distance to the neighbouring town. ‘And then we’ll reward ourselves with lunch.’
    ‘Do you mind if we do a bit of shopping afterwards? I need to grab a few things.’
    She glanced at him. Ben and shopping? She shook her head. ‘Not at all.’
    * * *
    To Meg’s utter surprise, Ben was a major help on the Great Marquee Hunt. He zeroed in immediately on the marquee that would best suit their purposes. The side panels could be rolled up to allow a breeze to filter through the interior if the evening proved warm. If the day was cool, however—and that wasn’t unheard of in late March—the view of the bay could still be enjoyed through the clear panels that acted like windows in the marquee walls.
    Ben insisted on putting down the deposit himself.
    Given the expression on his face earlier, when she’d asked him about his financial circumstances, she decided it would be the better part of valour not to argue with him.
    Furniture was next on the list, and Meg chose round tables and padded chairs. ‘Round tables means the entire table can talk together with ease.’ Hopefully it would promote conversation.
    Ben’s lips twisted. ‘And they’ll make the marquee look fuller, right?’
    Exactly.
    ‘What else?’ he demanded.
    ‘We need a long table for the wedding party.’
    ‘There’s only four of us. It won’t need to be that long.’
    ‘And tables for presents and the cake.’
    Ben pointed out tables, the salesman made a note, and then they were done—all in under an hour.
    Ben’s hands went to his hips. ‘What now?’
    To see him so fully focused on the task made her smile. ‘Now we congratulate ourselves on having made such excellent progress and reward ourselves with lunch.’
    ‘That’s it?’
    She could tell he didn’t believe her. ‘It’s one of the big things ticked off. It’s all I had scheduled for today.’
    ‘What are the other big things?’
    ‘The catering, the cake, the invitations. And...’ A grin tugged at her lips.
    He leaned down to survey her face. His own lips twitched. ‘And?’
    ‘And shopping for Elsie’s outfit.’
    He shot away from her. ‘Oh, no—no, no. You’re not dragging me along on that.’
    She choked back a laugh. ‘Fat lot of use you’d be anyway. I’ll let you off the hook if you buy me lunch.’
    ‘Deal.’
    They bought hot chips smothered in salt and vinegar, and dashed across the road to the beach. School had gone back several weeks ago, but it was the weekend and the weather was divine. The long crescent of sand that bordered the