Page 27 of Surprise Baby for Mr. Fischer

“I’d love to, Lincoln, but I’m not really dressed for picking.” I sighed with sadness and waved my foot, showing off the classic beige flats I’d worn. I was grateful my feet hadn’t swelled much today.

Not only was I not dressed to sort through treasure like this, I couldn’t deny that I’d need help to do it. I was more careful these days. The baby needed to be safe, and picks like this could include all sorts of heavy objects with sharp edges, rust, and who knew what other kinds of hazards.

The baby.I really needed to tell him.

“True. Next time then.” He looped his arm through mine, and we went back into his house through the back door. “Want something else to drink?”

“Water would be great. Thank you.” I moved through the kitchen to the large window in front facing the bay. How fitting that we met because of water. We’d spent a lot of time at the beach during our weekend together. My face grew warm as I remembered the hot sex we experienced under the moonlight, shielded from view within a small cove.

Now I took comfort in the small waves peacefully lapping at the shoreline. The fading sun’s rays glinted off the water, reminding me, with winter practically on our doorstep, the daytime was short.

It was time.

My hands shook as I unzipped my coat. The rush of cooler air felt wonderful against my sweaty skin, but did nothing to ease my mind.

“Here’s your water.”

I took the glass from Lincoln, barely sparing him a glance. He stood next to me, holding his glass.

I took a sip to remove the lump lodged in my throat. “Remember I mentioned trying to get in touch with you after our weekend together?”

“Yes.” The giddiness in that one word made me hesitate.

“Well, I, uh ... I was trying to reach you for a reason. I thought you should know—” I took another gulp of water, drinking so fast some of the liquid poured from my mouth and down the front of my shirt, onto my chest.

Lincoln’s sharp intake of breath told me he was enjoying watching the water drip onto my slightly larger breasts. With my coat open, it was hard to miss them. I’d always had a generous amount of cleavage, but pregnancy had been good to that area of my body. The coolness of the water reminded me of when Lincoln ran an ice cube over my body, and then followed the same path with his mouth.

His lips parted and his breathing grew heavy. I was pretty sure he was remembering how we’d used the ice cube too.

I cleared my throat.

His gaze jerked up, focusing on my face. “Know what?” he prompted me.

I handed him my empty glass. It was now or never, and laid my hands on either side of my stomach. “This,” I answered quietly.

His brow creased in confusion. “This what?”

I gestured down with my chin.

His gaze flew to my belly. With my shirt tightly stretched across it, there was no mistaking the bump. He choked on the water he’d just sipped, and the glasses slipped from his hands, falling to the carpeted floor.

“You’re pregnant.” It wasn’t a question. “How?”

I sighed. “Well, when two people—”

“That’s not what I meant.” His face had grown pale, and he took a wobbling step forward. He swayed, and I tried to help angle him toward the couch.

Oh, shit, is he going to faint?