The Sheriff's Nine-Month Surprise. Brenda Harlen

the dark walnut cupboards, natural granite countertops, marble tile and hardwood floors.

      “Chocolate, chocolate ’n’ peanut butter or chocolate chip cookie dough,” she offered.

      “Nothing with chocolate?” he asked drily.

      A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she shrugged. “Sorry.”

      “Do you have cones?”

      “No, but I have waffle bowls,” she told him.

      “Even better,” he decided.

      “What kind do you want?”

      “Cookie dough.”

      She took the container out of the freezer and set it on the counter, then opened the cupboard and stood on her toes. “If they were more easily accessible, I’d indulge all the time,” she explained, as she stretched toward the top shelf.

      “If you didn’t want to indulge, you wouldn’t buy them,” he commented, easily reaching over her head for the box.

      She pulled open a drawer to retrieve an ice-cream scoop. “That’s just the kind of logic I’d expect from a man.”

      He set the box on the corner, then lifted his hand to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertip slowly tracing the outer shell.

      The scoop slipped from her grasp, bounced on the counter.

      “I don’t remember you being skittish,” he said.

      She swallowed. “I’m not usually.”

      “So what has you strung so tight now?” he wondered aloud. “Are you worried that I’m going to make a move?” He stepped closer, so that she was trapped between the counter at her back and him at her front. “Or that I’m not?”

      The pulse at the base of her jaw was racing, and her slightly parted lips—so tempting and soft—were mere inches from his own. Her gaze went to his mouth, lingered, as if she wanted his kiss as much as he wanted to kiss her.

      Then she turned her head away and shifted to the left, sidestepping both him and his question.

      “What’s going on, Katelyn?” he pressed, because it was obvious that something was.

      She nibbled on her bottom lip as she pried the lid off the ice-cream container.

      “Katelyn?” he prompted, ignoring the caution lights that were flashing in his head.

      Finally, she looked at him, her big blue eyes filled with wariness and worry. “I’m pregnant.”

       Chapter Five

      She hadn’t intended to blurt it out like that, but now that the words had been spoken, Kate actually felt relieved. It was no longer this big secret that she was keeping bottled up inside; she’d done the right thing and told Reid about the baby.

      Now she just had to deal with his reaction, whatever that might be.

      He reached behind him, his hands curling over the edge of the island countertop, as if he needed the support to remain standing. She understood how he felt—she was more than a little unsteady herself.

      She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, waiting for him to say something, anything.

      “You’re sure?” he asked, after a long minute had passed.

      She nodded. “I took one of those over-the-counter tests. Actually, I took three,” she admitted. “And I got official confirmation from the doctor last week.”

      He went back to the table for his beer, tipped the bottle to his lips. “That’s why you were in Echo Ridge,” he realized. “Because you think it’s mine.”

      Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she couldn’t fault him for asking. She’d jumped into bed with him only a few hours after their first meeting—why wouldn’t he assume that was normal behavior for her?

      “I know it’s yours,” she told him. “You’re the only man I’ve been with in...a long time. But considering how quickly everything happened between us, I can understand why you’d ask, why you’d want proof.”

      He fell silent again, and she found herself babbling in an effort to fill the silence.

      “We can have a DNA test as soon as the baby’s born. It’s possible to do paternity testing before birth, through amniocentesis, but it also increases the risk of miscarriage and I’d rather not take the chance when there are no other factors that warrant it.”

      He nodded, but whether it was in agreement or understanding, she had no idea.

      “I’m not asking anything of you,” she hastened to reassure him. “I made the decision to have this baby on my own, and I intend to raise the baby on my own.”

      That, finally, got a response from him.

      “You didn’t make the baby on your own,” he pointed out.

      “Well, no,” she agreed, her body humming in remembrance of the pleasures she’d experienced in his arms.

      “And I don’t shirk my responsibilities,” he said with grim resolve.

      “I appreciate that, Reid, but—”

      He shook his head. “No buts, Katelyn.”