a fingertip along the top of her arm, and she was molten and ready. Bottle his magnetism and she could make a fortune and retire twenty-two years early.
Of course, love was like that. Unfortunately, their love was strictly one-sided. Hers. Jeff had made it perfectly clear time and time again that this was as far as the relationship was going to go.
But that didn’t alleviate the fact that she’d fallen hard and held every man she’d met since against the impossible Jeff-standard. Even if George Clooney and Matthew McConaughey showed up on her doorstep, they, too, would fall woefully short.
As for Jeff, he was a man content with the status quo, oblivious to her growing frustration. He was satisfied with their current situation, which was to get together every Saturday night, so long as neither was traveling. They were monogamous. Committed.
In a very twisted sense, Tori thought wryly, for unlike those hot and spicy romance novels that ended with the hero and heroine finding happily-ever-after, Tori knew that, in her case, the reality was that her relationship wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.
She loved him, which is why she saw him at every opportunity, no matter how much her heart shredded slightly each time she did. He did care for her—she had no doubt of that—but his feelings would never reach that death-do-us-part, you’re-my-forever level that she craved. Their love was physical. Surface. And after two years, Tori wasn’t even sure Jeff had deep emotions beyond the ones everyone has for his immediate family. The man simply didn’t get angry. He played life loose and took things as they came. He shed stress the way a roof sheds water—easily.
She’d learned the hard way that you should never go into a relationship expecting to change a man. You were only going to leave disappointed.
She’d settled for less than body and soul, something she swore long ago she’d never do. Why had she given up hope of finding something or someone better? When had the tiny part of her that believed she could have it all died? She loved Jeff, but not everything you loved was good for you. Just look at cheesecake. She’d eat that daily if it wouldn’t pack pounds on her hips. She’d never been afraid of the unknown, but something about Jeff had paralyzed her into complacency and made her lose sight of her dreams.
She’d lost her backbone. She’d even agreed to spend the weekend with him when she knew she should have stayed home and concentrated on getting well. She’d been on antibiotics the past seven days for a spring sinus infection. She had three more days of medication remaining, and still went from being totally stuffed up one moment to nonstop sneezing the next.
But she hadn’t seen him in a week and she missed him and…She glanced at the clock before she slid out of bed. Eight-fifteen. Her nose twitched as she stilled a sneeze, and she took a moment to stare at the rumpled bed where Jeff lay sleeping on his stomach, the sheet slipped to his waist. He was a gorgeous man—even more handsome than his twin, Justin. Jeff had light-green eyes, unlike his brother, whose were more emerald. Jeff’s chin rounded more than Justin’s squared one, and Jeff’s Roman nose had been broken during a long-ago hockey game, giving a roguish quality to his face. His hair was the perfect shade—not too red or too orangey-blond. Not one freckle from childhood marred his skin.
Even asleep he tempted her. Maybe she should just climb back into bed and…
She shook her head, snapped herself out of it, and gathered up her stuff. She headed into the en suite bathroom of Jeff’s condo. She’d leave in a few minutes while he was still sleeping, as she did most of the time. Sundays were Jeff’s sleep-in days and Tori, who was always up by eight no matter what the day, actually preferred to have the afternoon to herself so she could get ready for the week ahead.
She freshened up and crammed the last of her personal items into the small white bag she carried between his place and hers. As she did, her fingers settled on the little plastic case that contained her birth control. Frowning, she popped it open. She hadn’t taken last night’s dose. Twelve hours shouldn’t make a difference; she’d forgotten before.
She pushed a pill out and popped it into her mouth, swallowed and sneezed. High time to go. Within minutes, Tori was inside her car where the letdown came immediately. She couldn’t keep doing this indefinitely. She wanted more. She’d made a vow with her friends at graduation to have it all and if she stayed in St. Louis in this situation with Jeff, her life would be over before it started. In the harsh late-April sunlight, Tori finally admitted that she’d reached her limit. Something had to change.
Chapter One
There were two pink lines on the plastic stick. Tori stared at the pregnancy test she was holding in her right hand as if willing it to change. Even though she had a master’s degree in computer science, she held the test up to the back of the box to make sure she’d read the results correctly.
Two lines. Pregnant.
The box gleefully proclaimed that it was 99.9 percent accurate, but Tori read the wording again. The odds she was pregnant were pretty good; this was the second test she’d taken—the first one she’d wrapped in layers of toilet paper and stuffed back inside the box about five minutes ago.
That test had also been positive, which meant she wasn’t just missing her period because of stress as she had done a few times before in her life. As she’d thought had happened at the end of May. No, two months of missed cycles and two positive tests meant one thing.
She was having Jeff Wright’s baby.
Tori wrapped the second stick in toilet paper and shoved it into the box before placing the whole package back into the plain brown bag the drugstore had thoughtfully provided. She tossed the sack in the trash can, making sure to hide it at the bottom.
She hadn’t planned on taking the test, especially not at work. She’d run by the drugstore at lunch to get some headache medicine and, worried about having missed her period twice in a row, had picked up the test after she’d passed it in the aisle. Then the box had sat in her purse like a homing beacon. Finally, at about four o’clock, she hadn’t been able to take the suspense any more. She had to know the results.
And now she did.
She straightened and took a long, hard look at herself in the mirror. She was about to be a mother. While a woman had reproductive choices today, Tori had known the moment she’d bought the test what her decision would be if the results were positive.
She gazed into her own brown eyes. While this wasn’t quite how she’d planned it, she knew she would be a wonderful single mom. She was turning thirty December first; she had a good job with excellent benefits; and, as a fantastic “aunt” to her friend Joann’s kids, Tori knew she could handle diapers and feedings. Besides, her whole family lived near Kansas City, where she had recently moved, giving her a great support system to draw on. And she knew that her best friends from college, the Roses, would agree with her and support her decision.
Still, the irony mocked. While she’d been trying to change her life by moving to Kansas City and breaking up with Jeff at the end of May, she certainly hadn’t intended this.
Tori blinked and shook her head. She’d recently shed her long, dark hair, chopping off six inches so that the locks now bobbed just below her chin. She wasn’t quite used to not having the weight and the strands tickled her chin.
She sighed. Taking the test was probably going to be the easiest part. Despite all her book smarts, she had little idea how to proceed. Did one just call up and announce, Guess what? I’m pregnant? Was there a chain-of-command of people you were supposed to tell first, such as your own parents or the father? Did it even matter?
Even the decision to accept the promotion and transfer to Kansas City had been easier to make than facing the situation now looming on the horizon.
She thought about her new job a moment. Her career had always been a top priority in her life, and relocating had let her leave Jeff behind. She hadn’t seen him since leaving St. Louis, and time had been a healing balm, giving her much-needed space and perspective. Oh, she still loved him—part