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The Sheriff's Nine-Month Surprise
Brenda Harlen
A shotgun wedding…or a match made in Haven?Attorney Katelyn Gilmore has her entire life mapped out, well that’s until a spontaneous night of passion with the new sheriff in town – Reid Davidson. Now she’s going to have a baby! With Katelyn’s well-ordered universe upended, is true love on the cards?
A shotgun wedding...
or a Match Made in Haven?
By-the-book attorney Katelyn Gilmore has her entire life mapped out. But a spontaneous weekend of passion with Reid Davidson upends that well-ordered universe. She’s going to have a baby! And what’s more, her hunky fling’s now the new sheriff in town...literally. Reid’s taking his dad-to-be duties seriously and won’t rest until Katelyn has a ring on her finger. Sure, the baby’s the most important thing, but what about true love?
BRENDA HARLEN is a former attorney who once had the privilege of appearing before the Supreme Court of Canada. The practice of law taught her a lot about the world and reinforced her determination to become a writer—because in iction, she could promise a happy ending! Now she is an award-winning, RITA® Award–nominated national bestselling author of more than thirty titles for Mills & Boon. You can keep up-to-date with Brenda on Facebook and Twitter or through her website, www.brendaharlen.com (http://www.brendaharlen.com).
Also by Brenda Harlen
The Last Single GarrettBaby Talk & Wedding BellsBuilding the Perfect DaddyTwo Doctors & a BabyThe Bachelor Takes a BrideA Forever Kind of FamilyThe Daddy WishA Wife for One YearThe Single Dad’s Second ChanceA Very Special Delivery
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The Sheriff’s Nine-Month Surprise
Brenda Harlen
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07737-8
THE SHERIFF’S NINE-MONTH SURPRISE
© 2018 Brenda Harlen
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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With sincere appreciation.
Contents
Cover (#u6a4aa5af-c6af-5ad5-9411-41f0eba31c35)
Back Cover Text (#ubd59821a-7dd4-5798-a753-947ef4326ec4)
About the Author (#ufb0e76a9-271e-5d50-8b32-e0db69d57889)
Booklist (#ulink_ab8e9b21-e133-5f52-a2d2-071eef5c68ff)
Title Page (#u39d2ad90-bc66-5223-8df7-f44d7ec01b40)
Copyright (#u51a69525-08a0-539c-be79-84bd97252efa)
Dedication (#u24f3d541-44c1-5a3c-b3ac-803aa66030c7)
Chapter One (#ue5d82f86-2542-5b1c-b394-8aa62b76fdeb)
Chapter Two (#u0a6f84e6-63d7-53da-b20d-ce0f16f1b235)
Chapter Three (#uce8aec4b-d305-5960-8bcd-09e4853ca860)
Chapter Four (#u958c6075-b40b-5060-8ed3-abb942313905)
Chapter Five (#u069c0c82-abb0-501c-8b9e-01f7ffa41a96)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#udc6d5391-96d8-5b5e-8fca-0348804637a7)
Twenty-eight months
Katelyn Gilmore fell back onto the king-size mattress and drew in a long, deep breath as she stared up at the textured ceiling of the Courtland Hotel-Boulder City.
Twenty-eight months devoted exclusively to the establishment of her law practice, working long hours every day, including evenings and weekends, to prove herself to her clients and colleagues. Now, after twenty-eight months, she’d finally allowed herself to venture away from the office for a few days.
Okay, a conference wasn’t actually a vacation, but the opportunity to hone her legal skills and enjoy a change of scenery was one that she couldn’t refuse. And she was determined to enjoy the weekend—to get out of the hotel when the workshops had ended and breathe in some fresh air. Maybe she’d even take the time to see some sights, have a drink or two at a local bar, maybe flirt with a handsome cowboy—if she remembered how.
She enjoyed the company of men, and her sexual experiences—though limited—had been pleasant enough. Maybe not earth-shattering, but she didn’t really believe that earth-shattering sex existed outside of books and movies. The truth was, she felt more anticipation when she was prepping for a trial than thinking about getting naked with a man.
“Which only proves you’re getting naked with the wrong men,” her sister had told her as she tucked a box of condoms in the suitcase Kate had packed for her trip.
Though Skylar was younger by five years, she had a much better understanding of the way a man’s brain worked—and a lot more experience with other parts of the male anatomy.
Kate had removed the box and given it back to her sister. “I’m going to a legal conference at a five-star hotel, not an open house at a brothel.”
“Still, you might luck out and meet a guy who is something more than a stuffed shirt,” Sky had said, and returned the box to the niche she’d created between Kate’s makeup bag and her underwear. “And even if you don’t, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
Because she agreed with her sister’s last point, she’d left the condoms in her suitcase.
She also believed in careful planning and deliberation and wasn’t the type of woman to act on impulse. Hooking up with a guy she met at a conference would be exactly that—and a little tawdry, too.
So when she hung up her suits and unpacked her other essentials, she left the condoms in her luggage, certain she’d have no need for them.
Certain...and maybe just a little disappointed.
* * *
Reid Davidson was sitting with his back to the wall and his eyes on the door when she walked into the conference room.
From a young age, he’d learned to be aware of his surroundings and the people around him—it was easier to dodge a backhand if he saw it coming—and the habit had served him well as the Sheriff of Echo Ridge, Texas.
But even if he hadn’t seen her arrive, even if his head had momentarily been turned away, Reid would have been aware of her presence. She was the type of woman who snagged a man’s full and complete attention and didn’t let go.
She had bold blue eyes and sharp cheekbones in a heart-shaped face that was saved from looking prim by a lushly shaped mouth that promised the fulfillment of his wickedest fantasies. Her dark hair, shining with hints of gold and copper, was caught up in some kind of fancy twist that made him want to take out the pins and slide his fingers through it.
After pausing for a brief moment in the doorway, her gaze searching for an empty chair, she moved to the other side of the room with a brisk, confident stride that suggested she was a woman with important places to go and people to see.
Her body—long and lean with curves in all the right places—was buttoned up in a slim-fitting blue suit. The color was both lighter and brighter than navy and brought to mind the fancy glass his grandmother had collected. The skirt hugged her hips, and the matching jacket was fastened below her breasts with a single square button, above which peeked a hint of black silk.
He’d resigned himself to spending the weekend surrounded by lawyers and judges and other legal types. It wouldn’t have been his first choice on how to spend three days, but the Echo Ridge town council strongly advocated continuing education for all its employees and, since that council was footing the bill for the weekend, he hadn’t balked at the request.
He’d chosen to attend Sentencing Considerations in the Criminal Courts, believing it would be held in Boulder, Colorado, less than a two-hour flight from Echo Ridge. It turned out the conference was in Boulder City, which was in Nevada, adding another hour and another time zone to his travel. Although a potentially fortuitous error on his part, as he’d recently decided to move away from Echo Ridge and had, in fact, already applied to fill a vacancy in the Sheriff’s Office in Haven, Nevada.
So he’d flown in a day early and made a quick trip to the northern part of the state to meet with the hiring committee before the conference. He’d been advised that a decision would be made before 4:00 p.m. Monday, and he figured the conference would distract him from counting the hours until then. As he watched the stunning brunette settle into her chair, almost directly across from him, he couldn’t help but think that she would be an even better distraction.
She unzipped the top of her briefcase and removed a bottle of water, her cell phone and her iPad. If he’d been a betting man, he would have put money on her having been a straight-A student in school—the type who willingly sat at the front of the class to ensure she didn’t miss a single word the teacher said.
The good girl had never been his type, and if he really wanted the distraction of a willing female to help get him through the weekend, he’d be better off hitting a club or the hotel bar when five o’clock rolled around. But his gaze lingered on the brunette, because it was a shame that a good girl should have a mouth that suggested it was capable of doing wonderfully bad things.
Now that she was set up, she turned to the balding man in the ill-fitting brown suit who was seated on her left. Making friends with her neighbors, he realized, when she said something, smiled and shook the man’s hand. Then she turned to the woman on her other side, a skinny redhead with sharp eyes, and repeated the process.
Having finished with the introductions, she sat back in her chair. As more stragglers found their way to the room and filled the last few seats, she let her gaze move around the table. Then her eyes locked on his, and his stomach clenched as it absorbed the punch of sexual awareness.
He hadn’t experienced anything like that in a long while, and he knew then that he wasn’t going to walk away from her so quickly when the hour-long session was over.
* * *
Most of the seats were taken by the time Kate found the conference room where tables were set up around the perimeter to facilitate discussion. But she found a space between Lyle, a victims’ rights advocate from Carson City, and Marcia, a former prosecutor-turned-defense-attorney from Fresno, California.
When she was settled in her chair, she let her gaze scan the room as last-minute arrivals squeezed into vacant seats. Her lazy perusal came to an abrupt halt when she saw him.
He was wearing a light gray micro-check shirt that stretched across mouthwateringly broad shoulders with a loosely knotted plum-colored tie at his throat. His hair was brown, a few shades lighter than her own, and cut short. His forehead was high, his brows thick, his eyes—green? Brown? She couldn’t quite tell from across the distance that separated them, but they were focused and intense. The bronze skin suggested that he spent a lot of time working or playing outdoors. The strong jaw, square and dark with stubble, gave him a slightly dangerous and yet somehow appealing edge.
There was no ring on the third finger of his left hand, resting casually on top of the table, but she knew that wasn’t always proof of unmarried status. Then he caught her eye and winked boldly, and she felt heat spread up her neck and across her cheeks as she tore her gaze away. She was embarrassed to have been caught staring. She was also—unexpectedly and undeniably—aware of him on a purely visceral level.
It had been a long time since she’d been attracted to a man and even longer since she’d shared any kind of physical intimacy with one. She didn’t know precisely how long, but it had been at least twenty-eight months because she hadn’t been away from Haven in that period of time—and she definitely hadn’t hooked up with anyone in her hometown. Heck, she couldn’t even have coffee with a male colleague during morning recess from court without her sister texting to ask for details before her cup was empty.
So maybe it was the extended duration of her most recent dating hiatus that was responsible for her reaction to him. Or maybe it was his shoulders. Apparently she had a weakness for guys with great shoulders and strong jawlines and—
And somehow her errant gaze had drifted back to him again. Chiding herself for her reaction, she folded back the cover of her tablet and swiped to unlock the screen.
The moderator closed the door, effectively silencing the quiet murmur of conversation and focusing attention in his direction. After a brief introduction, he handed out some case studies for the participants to review and discuss.
As the debate evolved, Kate found herself arguing against the position taken by the broad-shouldered stranger who’d caught her eye. He insisted that adult crimes deserved adult punishment; she maintained that children didn’t have experience making decisions or controlling their impulses and shouldn’t be held to the same standards as their adult counterparts.
When the moderator finally called time on the session, neither of them had given an inch. And yet Kate found herself invigorated rather than frustrated, because while she didn’t agree with her opponent’s position, she had to admit that he’d made some good points and he presented his arguments in a rational and respectful manner.
As most of the other attendees funneled toward the door, he moved the other way—toward her. She took her time putting her materials away, pleased to note that her hands were steady despite the pounding of her heart. She uncapped her water bottle and tipped it to her lips to moisten her suddenly dry throat.
He wore jeans with his shirt and tie, and well-worn cowboy boots on his feet. Six feet two inches, she decided when she had to tip her head back to meet his gaze. And his eyes weren’t green or brown but an intriguing combination of both. Hazel, she decided, though the word failed to describe the magnetism of his gaze. Tiny lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes and bracketed his mouth, and a thin scar slashed through his right eyebrow.
“Reid Davidson,” he said.
She took the proffered hand—wide-palmed and strong—and felt a tingle of something dangerously tempting shoot up her arm and arrow toward her center. “Katelyn Gilmore.”
“Defense attorney?” he guessed.
She nodded. “Among other things.”
“Six months out of law school?”
