“That was part of my plan. But only if you agree.”

“It’s a good job?” she asked, thinking she’d live anywhere in the world with Mitch. Sure, she had good friends in Royal, but Emily meant the most to her, and it looked like Emily’s life was about to get very mobile. Cole had houses all over America, and in at least four other countries.

“It’s a very good job,” Mitch replied. “But you and the baby are my priority. We can stay in Royal if you want. I’ll find something to do.”

“Can we come back to visit?”

“As often as you want. We’ll keep your house. Hell, we can keep mine if you’d rather. Two might be overkill.”

“I do like my lot on the lakeshore,” Jenny admitted. “And we’ll have to teach the baby to swim somewhere.”

“And there are those great French country house plans on your short list.”

“I picked the other one.”

“Not anymore you didn’t.”

Jenny couldn’t help but smile at the conviction in his tone.

Mitch’s hand flexed convulsively against her bare stomach. “A baby. It boggles the mind,” he admitted in a whisper.

“Well, I’m excited.”

“Yeah?” There was a salacious edge to his tone.

“Not that kind of excited.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Too bad.”

“But I am hungry. I’m eating for two.” She paused. “Well, one and a very little bit at the moment.”

He drew her more comfortably into his arms. “It happened that very first night?”

“That very first night.”

“It must have been fate.”

“I think it was Emily’s burgundy dress.”

“That was Emily’s dress?”

“Yes.”

“You should buy it from her.”

Jenny laughed. “You know, she’s probably not going to want to wear it again.”

“I’ll make her an offer.” Mitch glanced around. “I sure wish you had room service here.”

“You better get up and cook me something. I’m in a delicate condition.” For some reason, her stomach felt much stronger now.

He propped himself up on one elbow. “You need to eat?” Then he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “What do you want? I’ll make something right now.”

She laughed. “Wow. This delicate condition thing is really going to work for me.”

He turned and flicked his index finger across her nose. “No. This having Mitch Hayward in love with you is going to work for you.”

“I’ll take a cheeseburger, please.”

He stood. “I’m bringing you a salad and a glass of milk with that.”

His cell phone chimed from the pocket of his pants that had been discarded on the floor, and he bent to retrieve it.

He checked the display. “Cole.”

“Tell them they didn’t have to leave.”

“Oh, yes, they did.” He pressed a button. “Yeah?”

Mitch paused to listen for a moment, then he shifted the phone out of the way. “Cole wants to know if he can spill the beans. The temporary admin person heard that message on the office voice mail from D.C., and people are wondering where you’ve gone.”

Jenny shrugged. She was over the moon with happiness. Cole could shout the news from the rooftops. In fact, if he didn’t, she just might.

Mitch went back to the phone and said, “Go for it.” Then he laughed. “Are you serious? Why?”

“What?” asked Jenny, but Mitch held up his index finger.

“It’ll be up to Jenny,” he said. He shook his head. “People are strange. Okay. Call you when we get back to town.”

“What?” she asked after he’d signed off.

“Apparently, Brad is talking to Cole about making the Tigers’ home city Royal and giving me a job in management.”

“Wouldn’t they have to build a stadium?”

“I suspect this had more to do with Brad distracting the electorate from the blackmail issue than any serious bid for the team.”

“Would you do it?” Jenny pulled back the covers and got out of bed herself. Burgers on the deck watching the sunset with Mitch would be fabulous.

“Up to you.” Mitch stuffed one leg into his slacks.

“Do I have to decide now?”

“You absolutely do not have to decide now. I told the people in D.C. that I need a couple more months in Royal.” He moved around the bed to where she was retrieving new underwear and pulled her into his arms. “I was hoping to spend it with you.”

“Before you broke my heart?” She settled against his bare chest and the cool fabric of his slacks, reveling in the feel of his strong arms around her, wondering if dinner could wait.

“By that time, I’d come to the conclusion you’d be the one breaking mine.”

“Never,” she whispered, stretching up for a kiss that somehow went on and on.

Mitch was the one to pull back. “I am going to feed you,” he vowed.

“It can wait.”

“No, it can’t. Our baby is hungry.”

Jenny’s heart melted into a pool of joy. “I love you, Mitch.”

His expression sobered, and he gently cupped her cheek with his palm. “I love you so much, Jenny.” Then he sighed. “Took me a long time to work that out, didn’t it?”

The tenderness in his expression went straight through to her soul. “It doesn’t matter. Not anymore. We have the rest of our lives together.”

BARBARA DUNLOP

writes romantic stories while curled up in a log cabin in Canada’s far north, where bears outnumber people and it snows six months of the year. Fortunately she has a brawny husband and two teenage children to haul firewood and clear the driveway while she sips cocoa and muses about her upcoming chapters. Barbara loves to hear from readers. You can contact her through her website at www.barbaradunlop.com.