Barbara Dunlop - An Intimate Bargain

“I’m really starting to like that guy.”

The first day of spring was opening night at Lord Ashton’s Alehouse. Over the months Abigail had worked on the project, the restaurant had expanded until it was a whole lot larger than Zach had first envisioned. There’d been a buzz about the place around the whole state since New Year’s, and the restaurant was booked up past the end of the month.

A bright wood fire roared in the massive fireplace, vintage black tools hanging from hooks against the worn stones. Lord Ashton’s swords and shields decorated the walls, and Abigail had even found a couple of suits of armor to place in the corners of the room.

The dinning tables were made of worn, rough-hewn beams. An elaborate candelabrum sat in the center of each one. The chairs were upholstered in soft leather, designed to look worn, with the wooden arms and backs crafted to look antique. Lady Elise Ashton’s paintings graced the entrance, and the multitude of sunken windows were decorated with heavy, emerald velvet curtains.

“Is it really wild boar?” Mandy asked, pointing at the leather-bound menu from her place at the table next to Abigail.

“They assure me it is,” Abigail answered, smiling around the big table at Seth and Travis, Mandy and her husband, Caleb. Alex was at the foot of the table kitty-corner to Lisa. And even Reed and Katrina had flown in from New York City for the weekend. Her parents were still in Denver, settling in nicely to the social life in a retirement complex.

“I’m going for it,” said Mandy. “And I’m definitely trying the Yorkshire pudding.”

“I don’t know how you people can eat so much,” Katrina put in from across the table.

“Try the garden salad,” Abigail advised her youngest sister. The downside to being a famous ballerina was keeping your figure so trim.

“I’ll be eating even more pretty soon,” said Mandy.

“Going on a trail ride?” asked Seth, helping himself to one of the fresh rolls placed in baskets in the middle of the table.

“Eating for two,” Mandy announced matter-of-factly.

The wide, proud grin that stretched across Caleb’s face confirmed the news.

Abigail squealed. “You’re pregnant!”

Mandy nodded, while Abigail pulled her into a tight hug.

The men offered congratulations to Caleb, and Katrina rushed around the table to join her sisters.

“I’m going to be an auntie,” Abigail breathed.

“I can’t wait to take her to plays and shops and museums,” said Katrina.

“Might be a boy.” Mandy laughed.

Katrina pooh-poohed with a wave of her hand. “If it is, you can always try again.”

Abigail laughed, glancing down at her sister’s flat stomach. “Do Mom and Dad know?”

“I called them this morning.”

While her brothers came around to hug Mandy, Abigail felt Zach’s hand wrap around hers. He urged her to him, out of the fray, then drew her down onto his lap in the roomy armchair at the head of the table.

“What about you?” he whispered in her ear.

“What about me?” she whispered back.

“You interested in having kids?”

“I am.” She rested her cheek against his, inhaling his familiar scent and letting her body mold against his strength, while her family’s voices seemed to fade. “You?”

“I’m the only one of my line,” he said, voice gruff. “So, yeah. I’d like to carry it on.”

Abigail’s heart squeezed hard.

“We can have lots of children,” she told him around a suddenly clogged throat. “You, Zach Rainer, are going to be the start of something big.”

“Can we start now?”

She couldn’t help smiling at that. “We haven’t even had the appetizer yet.”

“I don’t need food. I need you.”

“After dessert,” she whispered with a surreptitious glance over her shoulder to the commotion around Mandy. “We’ll go get pregnant.”

He stared deeply, lovingly into her eyes. “Do you think we should get married first?”

“Sure.”

He hesitated. “So, we’ll wait?”

“I’m thinking, if we take the Jaguar, we can be over the Nevada border in six hours.”

He drew back. “Elope?”

She nodded.

“Won’t that upset your family?”

She smoothed a hand across his cheeks, burrowing her fingers in his hair and moving in close. “I’ve stopped living for my family, Lucky.” She kissed him gently on the lips. “I’m living for you now. And we should do whatever we want.”

“Oh, Doll-Face,” he groaned, hugging her tight. “Marry me. Do it now.”

writes romantic stories while curled up in a log cabin in Canada’s far north, where bears outnumber people and it snows six months of the year. Fortunately she has a brawny husband and two teenage children to haul firewood and clear the driveway while she sips cocoa and muses about her upcoming chapters. Barbara loves to hear from readers. You can contact her through her website, www.barbaradunlop.com.