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I crossed out the cash settlement paragraph and wrote in a paragraph that demanded he supply “all family medical history” and “meet with the child at a meeting to be determined by the child.” I signed my name and handed him the duplicate copies.

He glanced at my changes. “Initial and we are done,” I said.

He removed a Montblanc pen from his jacket pocket, initialed the changes, and handed me back my copy. “We are done.”

“ We are done. But I can’t and won’t make promises for the future kid. If he or she wants a meet and greet, you will honor it.”

He frowned. “I don’t want any nasty surprises.”

“It won’t be up to me. It’s up to the kid.” I clutched the pen in my fingers and resisted the urge to throw it after him.

His jaw ticked, as it did when he was angry, but he didn’t say another word. He realized he was off the hook for a couple of decades and opted to leave. Italian loafers clicked against the floor as he crossed the room, jerked open the door, and left.

“What an ass!” Rachel said, coming around the counter. “How could you ever have slept with that?”

I smoothed a trembling hand over my head. “We’re all capable of stupid behavior if you dial up the right combination. In my case the perfect combination included too many glasses of wine, job loss, and thoughts of moving back here.”

Rachel’s brow furrowed. “I don’t think the last bit really made you have sex with that. It was the wine.”

I wished I could have blamed it all on the wine. “Coming back here felt like the ultimate failure, Rachel. I was back at ground zero. And it scared the hell out of me.”

She cocked her head, her eyes sharp with worry. “It’s not such a scary place anymore.”

A sigh shuddered past my lips. “No. Not so scary.”

She leaned a little closer to me and nudged me with her elbow. “And you must admit the bakery has its moments.”

A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. “There were one, two, okay, maybe three good moments.”

Laughing, she punched me in the shoulder. “You love us. Admit it. You would be lost without us.”

Six months ago, I could have denied the claim easily, honestly. Now, I couldn’t. “Maybe.”

“Maybe, my ass.”

“Rachel,” I said, laughing. “You said a bad word.”

“Yeah, well, get used to it. The nice Rachel is on vacation.”

“What happened to her?”

“I sent her away.”

“Not forever.”

“Don’t be looking for her anymore.” She glanced past me through the window, toward Gordon’s shop. “Trouble.”

“What?”

We hurried to the window in time to see Gordon throwing Roger out of his bike shop. Roger stumbled and fell to the curb. We hustled outside, the front doorbells jangling like an early warning system. “Why would Roger go to Gordon’s shop?” Rachel said.

“There was a time when they were best pals. They had a falling out about two years ago. I never found out why but knew they shared bad blood. He must have heard about the bike shop and stopped by to gloat.”

As I saw Gordon advance on Roger, his fists clenched, I hurried toward the bike shop. “Gordon! What are you doing?”

Gordon glanced up at me, his face flushed with rage. “Throwing out the trash.”

Roger scrambled to his feet, scuffing his Italian loafers. “What the hell is wrong with you, Gordon?”

Gordon glared at Roger, his teeth bearing a smile reminiscent of a lion right before he pounced. “Remember what I said, Roger. Remember.”

Roger paled as he hustled to his feet. “Shit, I don’t know why you’re defending her. I thought you finished with her months ago.”

Gordon advanced another step toward Roger, who quickly hustled back several steps.

“Stay away, Gordon. I don’t want trouble.”

“Of course you do,” Gordon said. “If you didn’t, you’d have handled this long distance.”

“I’m trying to be civil,” Roger shouted.

“I’m trying not to rip your damn head off, Roger.”

Roger cursed and then, digging keys from his pocket, turned and jogged toward a black BMW. The engine fired, and seconds later the car zoomed off.

Roger’s wheels squealed as he rounded a corner, and I went to Gordon. “What did you say to him?”

Gordon, a bit breathless, puffed out his chest like a lion defending his territory. “It doesn’t matter.”

Looking at Gordon, so angry and huffy at this moment, made me weak in the knees with love. Unshed tears burned in my throat, and it took all my self-control not to hug him close.

He glared at me. “Damn, Daisy, what did you see in that guy?”

“That’s what I said,” Rachel offered. I’d been so distracted by Roger and Gordon that she’d slipped from my mind.

“It was a very, very bad call!” I shouted, throwing my arms up in the air. “I get Roger is an ass. I get that! But my kid has his DNA, so I’m stuck with his biological history.”

A few folks on the street stopped to stare. I glared back at them, knowing full well it made me look even more crazed. When they turned and kept walking, I shifted all my attention back to Gordon. “I’m sorry.”

“He’s not going to throw any trouble your way?” Gordon asked.

“He signed away parental rights,” I said.

Gordon frowned. “Just like that?”

“He came with the papers in hand.” I explained about my contract revisions.

Gordon shook his head. “If he falls short on the biological-history crap, I want to know about it. Understood?”

I didn’t know what kind of threat Gordon had made to Roger but suspected it was a whopper. Roger didn’t scare easily. And it was kind of Neanderthal for Gordon to insinuate himself into my mess, but ... it was also so sweet and hot.

I’d barely seen Gordon in the last week and barely touched him in the last couple of weeks, but I couldn’t resist anymore.

I closed the distance between us and without a thought to right or wrong, good or bad, or appropriate or inappropriate, I cupped his face in my hands and kissed him on the lips.

His hand went to my waist, and he kissed me back. “That was hot,” I said.

He grinned. “I like to think I still have the moves.”

“Oh, you do.” I kissed him again. “Thanks.”

He drew in a breath. For a long moment he stared into my eyes. He traced my jawline with a calloused finger. “Daisy, will you marry me?” My heart stopped and somersaulted before resuming a racing pace.

“What?”

“Will you marry me?” he said.

I’d always been careful never to want too much. I understood the danger of hope. “I come with baggage.”

He squeezed my hand. “Don’t we all. Don’t we all.”

His energy pulled me toward a breathless yes, but still I resisted. “What about the baby?”

“I’ll legally adopt her so all she’ll ever need from Cheese-Dick is DNA information.”

“Are you sure, Gordon?” I still didn’t understand the ramifications of parenthood, which meant Gordon sure did not. “This is a game changer.”

“I know.” No hesitation blinked warnings from his gaze. He had the determination of a cyclist barreling down a hill at thirty miles an hour, excitement thrumming in his veins. “But it’s a change I want.”

Warmth spread up through me, and I couldn’t stem the tide of emotions rushing.

“Yes, Gordon Singleton. I’ll marry you.”

Rachel clapped her hands. “This is so cool!”