Molly Evans - A Mummy For His Baby

“Oh, no, thanks. Not accepting that challenge.”

In minutes they had poured the still steaming stew into bowls, buttered bread, and sliced some cheese to go with it.

“Sorry, I don’t have any wine. It doesn’t go with my medications.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m not much of a drinker.”

He scooped some of the stew into his mouth and closed his eyes.

“Oh, my God, that’s good. She could open her own restaurant and just serve this. She’d make a fortune.” His brows shot up. “Hey, maybe you could talk her into opening her own diner or something? Then she’d be too busy to run your life.”

“I like the way you think.” Aurora laughed again and relaxed a little more.

Watching him enjoy the stew—a simple meal in her new place—stirred good feelings.

Forbidden feelings—especially after that comment about having her own baby. That had been her lifelong dream, to have a family, but it wasn’t meant to be apparently.

Recalling how Beau’s wife had tragically died after giving birth reminded her that having a family wasn’t without risk. And as she sat there in the small apartment, across from Beau, she wondered if the risks were worth it.

There was only one way to find out.

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