The Maverick's Secret Baby. Teri Wilson

A nice girl like you.

      What on earth would Melba think if she knew the real story?

      Avery took a deep breath. The air smelled like cinnamon and nutmeg, courtesy of the decorative cinnamon brooms so many of the local business included in the fall pumpkin displays decorating the sidewalk. But the cozy atmosphere couldn’t get her mind off a troubling truth—Finn might not be a serial killer, but apparently, he was a serial flirt. Somehow she didn’t think a baby would fit neatly into a carefree lifestyle like the one Melba had just described.

      But that was fine. More than fine, really. She didn’t need Finn’s help. If she could run the business division of a Fortune 500 company, she could certainly raise a baby. Her father would blow a gasket once he found out his first grandchild was going to be a Crawford, but he’d get over it. Having Finn out of the picture might even make things easier, where the whole family feud matter was concerned.

      She obviously needed to let Finn know it was happening, though. That just seemed like the right thing to do. His reputation around Rust Creek Falls didn’t change a thing. It wasn’t as if she’d thought she could actually build a life with the man.

      Still, the fact that he’d been acting as if Montana was the set of Bachelor in Paradise while she was battling morning sickness and freaking out about starting a family with the son of her father’s sworn enemy stung a little bit.

      Who am I kidding? Avery climbed the steps of Strickland’s Boarding House alongside Melba and thought about all the nights she’d spent in this house, secretly wishing Finn would call or text out of the blue so she’d feel less awkward about their situation. Less lonely.

       It stings a lot.