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  Pride straightened Maya’s already admirable posture. “Oui. My mother and grandmother passed on those copper pots over there. That’s what I wanted to show you. The recipes are proprietary, guarded jealously and handed down through the generations with the copper pots and the family Bible, from mother to daughter to granddaughter.”

  She walked over and took down one of the three gleaming vessels, running the pads of her manicured fingers lovingly over its shiny surface. “My grandmother gave them to my mother, and, in turn, my mother gave them to me. Everything in this shop is brand-new, but I brought these with me as a symbol of the past, to remind me of the importance of family. I use them to make special smaller batches. Personal chocolates. Like those you sampled earlier and the box you will take home.”

  “Thank you,” Bia said.

  But the burning question, the one that Maya had quite deftly skirted, was the one about children. While Bia hated to assume, she couldn’t bring herself to press Maya for an answer. Wasn’t it obvious? If Maya had an heir, she would’ve said so. Judging by the look on her face when Bia had originally asked the question, she knew she’d struck a nerve. No, it was definitely better not to go there.

  “Your grandmother founded the business? She named it Maya’s Chocolates?”

  “She did.”

  “So, you were named after the family business?”

  “No, I was named after my grandmother. Her name was also Maya.”

  A bittersweet taste caught in the back of Bia’s throat, replacing the cinnamon and cloves. How lucky Maya was to be so connected to her past. It was a luxury that might not be afforded to Bia, unless she chose to go out searching for the woman who’d given her up all those years ago. Would it really be worth it? Walking into someone’s life, disrupting—or possibly upending—the world to which they’d become accustomed?

  If an attempted reconnection ended in rejection, maybe it would be better to leave well enough alone. She’d had a happy childhood with a father who’d done his darnedest to give her the best life he was capable of giving. Maybe there was something wrong with wanting any more than that.

  She put her hand on her stomach. If Bia could get blind health records from the adoption agency, maybe it would serve everyone best to look forward rather than backward.

  “Do you have extended family who will carry on the Maya’s Chocolates tradition in the future?”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  There was that look again. Bia glimpsed it before Maya turned away to hang up the copper pot.

  She was just about to ask Maya to clarify the remains to be seen comment, when a patch of cold sweat erupted on the back of Bia’s neck. She tugged at the neckline of her dress. Good grief, it felt as if someone had turned up the heat in the kitchen at least twenty degrees. A dizzying wave of nausea passed over her, and she grabbed on to the edge of the counter to steady herself.

  Maya reached out and touched Bia’s arm. “Are you all right? Let me get you some water and a chair so you can sit down.”

  Maya pulled over a wrought-iron chair from a small glass-topped table for two that stood in the corner of the kitchen. Bia had been so busy ogling the box of chocolates she hadn’t noticed the dining set until now. Shaking, she lowered herself onto the seat. What the heck was wrong with her? She’d heard of morning sickness, but it was midafternoon. This was ridiculous. She’d just have to power through. She had so much to do she didn’t have time for the indulgence of a sick day. As she’d done since she’d first felt the symptoms, she made the choice to buck up and push through.

  Mind over matter. She always managed to feel better when she decided not to think about how she felt, not to give in.

  Maya returned with some ice water. Bia gratefully accepted it and took a sip. She pressed the cool glass to her forehead. It helped.

  How embarrassing was this? She took a deep breath and reminded herself she just needed to tie up loose ends for the article and then she could leave. She might even work from home for the rest of the day as she wrote the story.

  “Thank you, Maya. I’m sorry about the interruption. I’m just feeling a little light-headed.”

  Maya walked over and put a cool hand on Bia’s cheek. The breach of personal space was a little startling, but at the same time, it was sort of touching.

  “No fever,” Maya said. “Here, give me your hand.”

  Bia hesitated for a moment, then complied. Maya held Bia’s hand. If the hand on the cheek had been a little weird, this made Bia want to squirm. But the thought of moving caused a new wave of nausea to crest.

  “Any chance you could be pregnant?” Maya asked with the same casual tone she might use if she were asking if Bia had ever tasted chocolate-dipped bacon.

  Bia jerked her hand away from Maya’s and tried to stand up, but the rush of blood to her head landed her right back on the chair—hard.

  “That’s a very personal question,” Bia insisted as alarms sounded in her head: Maya and her intuition. But what audacity for the woman to even suggest something like that to someone she barely knew?

  Bia stood, this time more carefully. “I need to go.”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” Maya said. “Please know everything is going to be okay. You have to believe that—”

  “I’m just under the weather,” Bia said, a little too irritably. “It’s nothing to be alarmed about.”

  Bia turned to leave but dropped her notebook as she tried to hitch her purse up on her shoulder.

  Maya swooped down and retrieved the notebook before Bia could reach it. “Bia, I’m sorry.” Maya handed it to her. Bia took it with a quick jerk of the hand. “Really. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll have Nicole Harrison call you if we need anything else for the article.”

  Maya nodded solemnly. “Please forgive me if I have overstepped my bounds. But I have to say this. Please know you and the baby are going to be okay. Hugh Newman may be the father of your child, but there is another man who will love you and your baby the way you deserve to be loved. And that’s not all.”

  “Oh, yes it is,” Bia said, backing away.

  “Your family cares about you deeply and will rally around you during your pregnancy. You have absolutely nothing to fear.”

  Okay, this is the last straw. Who does this woman think she is bringing my family into this, as she spouts her woo-woo nonsense pretending like she knows what’s going on? She obviously has no idea what she’s talking about.

  But if so, how did she know Bia was pregnant and that Hugh was the father? Conjecture? A lucky guess?

  “This is none of your business,” Bia said. “I’d appreciate it if you’d stop with the advice.”

  Maya’s face turned scarlet. As Bia passed through the curtains into the front of the shop, Maya said, “Bia, I’m sorry. I would never say or do anything to hurt you. Not on purpose.”

  Bia stopped and whirled around, looking Maya in the eyes. “Hurt me? You don’t even know me. So please stop talking like you do. Stay out of my business, okay? Stay out of mine, and I will certainly stay out of yours.”

  Chapter Two

  “I’m pregnant, Aiden.”

  Aiden Woods sat at Bia’s kitchen table across from her, weighing his words before he spoke. He was inclined to make a joke—something about not being ready to be a father or that pregnancy was impossible since they’d never had sex.

  Ha-ha?

  Nope. Not funny.

  For once in his life the filter of good sense kicked in before he stuck his foot in his mouth. Besides, one look at Bia’s ashen face told him she wasn’t joking.

  “B?”

  She didn’t sleep around. So he had a pretty good idea who the father was. Hugh Newman, the bastard. He wouldn’t wish the guy on anyone, much less som
eone he cared about.

  “Are you sure?” The question sounded absurd to his own ears. But what else was he supposed to say? I’m sorry? Tough break? Princess, I tried to warn you that Hugh Newman was a horse’s ass with a pretty face, but did you listen? No, you didn’t.

  “Yes, I’m quite sure. Three pregnancy tests don’t lie.” Her eyes welled up with tears.

  Damn. Not the tears. Aiden fumbled for a minute. Then he reached across the table and took her hand. As the waterworks began to roll, she held on like he was her life preserver.

  “God, I am so stupid, Aiden. How could I have gotten myself into this mess? How could I have let this happen?”

  “Hey, hey, it’s going to be okay.” He got up and went around to her side of the table and slid onto the built-in banquette, putting his arm around her. She cried on his shoulder for a solid five minutes.

  When Bia had called him at nine-thirty that morning asking if he was free, if he could get away because she needed to talk to him about something important, he’d left the taping of Catering to Dallas, the reality television show that he produced, in the capable hands of the show’s director, Miles Mercer, and met Bia. No wonder she hadn’t wanted to meet him for coffee at the diner as he’d initially suggested. She wasn’t a drama queen, so when she’d asked—and Bia never asked, not something like this—he knew it was important, but he’d never imagined a bomb like this.

  Damn.

  “Does Hugh know?” he asked, handing her a paper napkin from the holder on the table.

  Bia wiped her eyes.

  “No. You’re the only person I’ve told. Well, you know and Maya LeBlanc guessed.”

  “Who is Maya LeBlanc?”

  “She owns the new chocolate shop that’s opening downtown. When I interviewed her yesterday, she took one look at me and asked me if I was pregnant.”

  Aiden squinted at her. “How the hell did she guess something like that?”

  “I wasn’t feeling well. I had a sinking spell and almost passed out. She must’ve put two and two together. Really, it wasn’t such a stretch. Kind of personal of her to ask, but she did. Of course, that was after we’d been talking about her being highly intuitive. Maybe she was trying to prove a point about her intuition. I don’t know.”

  “Did she guess who the father is?”

  Bia flinched. “Absolutely not.” She wrung her hands. “Well, sort of. But I didn’t confirm that she was right. Come to think of it, though, I didn’t even confirm that I was pregnant.”

  “But she knew it was Hugh? What is this woman, psychic or something?”

  Bia inclined her head to the side and pierced him with impatient eyes. “If you think about it, after all the press Hugh and I got, that isn’t such a stretch.”

  “Is she the one who tipped off the press back in March?”

  Bia blinked. “Maya? I can’t imagine that she would do something like that. I mean, what would she stand to gain?”

  Aiden shrugged. “Someone tipped them off. We don’t know who. It sure seems like she’s fishing.”

  “Well, if the press finds out that I’m pregnant, we’ll know who told them.”

  Aiden nodded. “When are you going to tell Hugh?”

  Bia took a deep breath, held it for a minute and then let it out audibly. She propped her elbow on the table and rested her forehead in her palms.

  “You’re going to tell him, aren’t you?”

  She didn’t look up.

  “Bia, you have to tell him.”

  “I don’t have to do anything, Aiden. I can’t even think right now. My head feels like it is about to explode.”

  “I understand,” Aiden said. “But he’s the father. He deserves to know.”

  She gave a little growl. “I didn’t ask you to come here to lecture me.”

  That was his cue to back off. A woman he’d gone out with a couple of times had told him that sometimes women didn’t want men to solve their problems; they just wanted them to listen. Seemed kind of ridiculous when a perfectly good solution to the problem was right there in front of them.

  “I get that, but come on, B. If I got a woman pregnant, I’d want to know. It’s as much his child as it is yours.”

  She rolled her eyes, which looked emerald green through the tears.

  “You and Hugh Newman are two completely different animals, Aiden. I didn’t tell you this, but—” She grimaced and shook her head as if she could take back the bait.

  “You didn’t tell me what?”

  She grabbed another napkin and blew her nose. “This is so embarrassing....” She closed her eyes for a moment, as if gathering her courage. “In the midst of the media frenzy, when the press was going crazy, making me out to be some sort of mystery girlfriend, Hugh’s people offered to pay me to keep quiet.”

  Aiden shrugged. “That’s not so out of character for him.”

  “No, you don’t get it. He didn’t call me. He had his people do it. Somehow, I don’t think he will be very happy to hear from me now.”

  Aiden balled his fists. He’d worked with the guy years ago when he was in Hollywood. Aiden had been a production assistant on one of his movies in the early days. The guy was a jackass, out for no one but himself.

  “Well, if you call him and he ignores you, you’ve done your duty. Once you let him know, it’s off your shoulders. But, B, if he wants to be part of the baby’s life, you have to let him. A kid can change a guy. Give him a chance. If he wants nothing to do with the baby, you’re free to walk away.”

  He couldn’t believe he was defending Hugh Newman.

  “God, you’re bossy,” she said through a fresh stream of tears.

  “But you know I’m right.”

  She nodded. Then squeezed her eyes shut as she put her head on his shoulder and sobbed again.

  “Hey, it’s not that bad. I’m here for you. I know it’s a shock, but you’re strong. You can do this.”

  Once again, he slid his arm around her shoulder and she nestled into him as if she belonged there. His heart twisted, but he ignored it and lowered his head so that it rested on hers. Her hair smelled like coconut and something floral that made him breathe in a little deeper.

  They stayed like that for a few minutes, until she pulled away. She reached for another napkin, wiped her eyes and blew her nose again. “You’re right. I have to call him. The sooner I do it, the sooner it’s over.”

  But she just sat there and didn’t get up to get her phone.

  “You have his number, right?”

  She nodded. “Well, I have a number for him. I haven’t talked to him in two months, since everything erupted. You know, it’s funny, the other day I almost deleted his number, but I didn’t.”

  “Why not? Were you harboring hopes of a second chance?”

  She made a disgusted tsking sound and gave his arm a little shove. “Hardly. I didn’t delete it because I got tied up with something else. I’ve been too busy at the paper since then to give him a second thought. I certainly haven’t been pining over him, Aiden.”

  “Good to know,” he said.

  “Why is that good to know?”

  “Because I don’t want to see you get hurt again, B. I mean, you have to let him know about the child, but I don’t want you to harbor any expectations. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “He didn’t hurt me.”

  He studied her for a minute, doing his best to read her, but she’d put the wall up. She was good at that, shutting out people and situations so that they didn’t get under her skin. This was only the second time he’d seen her cry. The other time was when she’d broken up with Duane. He would’ve held her then, too, but she’d blamed him for hiring the stripper that Duane had slept with two nights before their wedding. It took some time for their friendship to heal, but she�
�d finally acknowledged that if it hadn’t happened then, it would’ve likely been someone else. Better to find out before the wedding than after they’d been married for a few years.

  Aiden hated that he’d played a part in anything that had hurt Bia. But he knew Duane didn’t love her the way she deserved to be loved. He had made his decision and he’d suffered the consequences.

  “What do you think Hugh will say when I tell him?” she asked, her voice sounding unusually small.

  That was a no-win question. The Hugh he knew was probably the last person who wanted a kid, especially with someone who couldn’t advance his career. Bia was salt of the earth, the tenacious girl-next-door type. A woman any normal guy would fall over himself to be with. She was smart, funny and loyal to those she cared about. And he’d realized too late that he’d loved her all his life.

  “I think what’s more important is what you’re going to say. How you pose it to him sets the tone for his response.”

  She opened her mouth but closed it again, sitting back against the banquette and sighing. “I don’t know what to say.” She threw up her hands and let them fall into her lap.

  “Tell him the truth. Cut-and-dry.”

  “Hi, Hugh. It’s Bia Anderson. Remember me? No? Well, I was your Celebration, Texas, tour guide. Yeah, right, that one. The one your people offered to pay to be quiet. Funny thing, I’m pregnant. Yeah, that’s right. You and I are going to be parents. Isn’t that great news? I’m sure that’s changed your mind about me—makes me so much more attractive, doesn’t it?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ve got nothing, Aiden.”

  He didn’t know what to say. Usually, Bia had no problem saying what was on her mind. That’s what made her a good reporter and had gotten her the top job at the paper. It was a rare circumstance that she was hesitant to make a call or speak her mind.

  Of course Bia didn’t know what to say. She didn’t play contrived Hollywood games, which was one of the many things that Aiden loved about her. It was why this was so hard for her.

  “Let’s think about this,” he said. “He’ll probably be shocked. Be prepared for that. He might need some time to digest things before he’s able to wrap his mind around it.”