Expecting A Scandal

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“I don’t regret this baby for a moment,” she confided as she followed him toward the creek. “But I hate that I won’t have a happy story to share with my child about his or her father. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

Abigail’s artist’s gaze seemed to take in every detail as he led her under a low-hanging branch to show her the bend in the brook, perfect for dipping your toes on a hot day. The whole glade smelled like balsam and loamy earth.

“He deceived you along with the whole town.” Vaughn couldn’t imagine how devastated she must have been. But according to local gossips, Abigail hadn’t been the only woman taken in by the fake Will Sanders’s charm. The lowlife had been married to Megan Phillips and had an affair with a woman while abroad on business. “That’s a lot to process in addition to the baby news.”

He felt protective of Abigail, damn it. Was that why he kept hold of her hand, or steadied her waist when she stepped up onto the log? She deserved his care.

But as he sank to sit on the fallen tree beside her, Vaughn knew he was lying to himself. He would take any excuse to touch her. Get closer to her.

“Our night together should have never happened in the first place.” She wrapped her arms around herself, her feet dangling just above the brook’s edge, while Ruby settled along the back of the log, faithfully watching Vaughn’s back, the way she’d been trained. “I was doing temp work at the Ace in the Hole last winter. I didn’t even know him that well. He told me he was separated from his wife, and I believed him.”

Vaughn wasn’t sure how to offer comfort. So he just listened. Waited. The rush of the water filled the silence while a soft breeze rustled through the hickory tree overhead. He couldn’t deny a sense of relief that her relationship had been just one night and not a deep, emotional relationship. Yet at the same time, he knew it was irrational of him to feel that way since he barely knew her.

“I was working late that night because it was my younger sister’s birthday.” Her voice changed. Softened. “Alannah.” She glanced over at him, blinking fast before she looked away again. “She would have been twenty-four. Only she died ten months before that, and I was really...struggling that day.”

Whatever he’d thought she might say, it hadn’t been anything remotely close to that. Understanding made his chest ache for her. He related to that kind of loss all too well.

His arm went around her shoulders. Behind him, he felt Ruby shift. Even his dog nudged Abigail’s back, whimpering with the kind of empathetic emotion that animals keenly understood.

“Honey, I’m more sorry than I can say.” He tipped his cheek to the top of her head. “She was taken from you far too soon.”

He didn’t even want to think about some bastard taking advantage of her grief. Because as much as Vaughn could admit he liked the feel of Abigail in his arms, he would never use her vulnerable state for leverage. That was just...so damn wrong.