Rachael Johns - Pregnant By Mr Wrong

“Are you interested in Bailey?”

Quinn crossed his arms and tried to ignore the guilt he felt at Callum’s accusatory tone. “What if I was?”

“I’d tell you to be careful,” Callum replied, his serious eyes meeting Quinn’s.

He couldn’t tell if his big brother was warning him off for his well-being or for Bailey’s; probably the latter, but either way he could take a hike. Callum had had a chance with Bailey and he’d blown it—if he hadn’t made her feel so alone and unloved, she wouldn’t have come crying to Quinn in the first place. But he had and she did.

Now Callum was with Chelsea, and Bailey was Quinn’s business—even if no one knew it yet.

“You worry too much,” Quinn said, reaching out and patting Callum patronizingly on the chest. Inside he didn’t feel so light and carefree, but he played the part expected of him. “You should be putting all your energies into your gorgeous future wife.”

The fight in Callum’s eyes dimmed at the mention of Chelsea, and Quinn took the chance to escape. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got things to do.”

Callum opened his mouth as if to state his objections, but Quinn walked away, knowing that Callum would never make a scene when they had customers. “Bye, Sophie.” He waved as he headed for the door, then stepped out into the chilly morning air and strode over to his bike.

Next stop was his mom’s house, only a short distance from the actual distillery, also on their family’s estate. He’d lived there with his parents and all six of his siblings growing up, but now his dad was gone and only two of his brothers still lived at home. Lachlan had moved back in with his newborn son years ago when his wife had left them. Mom loved having her grandson under her roof, and Lachlan had been grateful for her help. Blair had moved home two years ago when he’d split with his wife, who’d also been his high school sweetheart. Although he kept making noises about moving into a place of his own, Quinn reckoned he liked Mom’s home cooking too much.

He parked his bike out front, hooked his helmet on the handlebars, walked the small distance to the house and let himself inside. The smell of blueberry pancakes hit him immediately, and his stomach growled in enthusiastic anticipation.

“Looks like I arrived just in time,” he said as he entered the big, country-style kitchen to find his mom laying the pancakes on the table. Lachlan and his son, Hamish, sat at the other end playing chess.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Nora said as Quinn hugged her. “Has your stomach got some kind of homing beacon on it?”

He laughed and then went over to ruffle Hamish’s hair. “Hey, dude, how’s it hanging?”

“Hi, Uncle Quinn.” Hamish’s words slurred slightly as usual. “I’m beating Dad at chess. Want a game?”

Quinn’s heart swelled with love and pride for his nephew, who, with cerebral palsy, hadn’t had an easy time in his short life but was always happy and positive. A lot of that was to do with his dad; none of the credit could go to his mother, who hadn’t been able to handle a special-needs child.

“Why not?” he said. “But I warn you, I’m worse than your father.”

“Hey!” Lachlan objected, a grin on his face. “Anyway, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

As his mom had turned back to the stove, Quinn moved closer to his brother and whispered, “I want to talk to you about Mom’s birthday. Where’s Blair?”

“In the shower, then I think he’s heading over to the distillery to run a tour.”

Quinn devoured four pancakes, chatted to his mom, brother and nephew about stuff Hamish was learning at school, lost a game of chess, and then stood and made his excuses. “I’ve got to head into Bend for a meeting. I’ll catch you all later.” He made eye contact with Lachlan, indicating he should see him out.

“You’ve got a meeting?” Nora asked.

He smiled at her. “Don’t sound so surprised.” Then he leaned down to kiss her on the forehead, before exiting the kitchen.

Lachlan followed. “I’ll see Quinn out,” he called over his shoulder.

Once they were safely outside, Quinn relayed his party plans.

“That’s a great idea,” Lachlan said, not making any comment about Bailey’s involvement. “And of course I’ll cater.” He had that gleam in his eyes he got whenever he was talking about food, and Quinn could tell he was already conjuring up a menu. “So that’s what your meeting is about? You’re seeing Bailey?”

Quinn nodded once and hoped Lachlan didn’t notice his Adam’s apple move slowly up and down. He felt bad lying to Lachlan, although technically he wasn’t. “Can you fill Blair in when you see him? I’ll try to catch Annabel this afternoon.”

“I’m glad you’re getting her involved.”

“Who? Annabel?” Of course he’d include their sister in any decisions.

“No, idiot. Bailey.”

“Ah. Right.”

“She’s been such a big part of the family for so long, even before she and Callum were together, that it seems wrong not to have her around anymore. Callum’s moved on and it was her decision to end things, so I’m just hoping everything won’t have to change too much. Hamish misses her, our families are so linked, and I think hiring Bailey to help is a good plan to fix any rifts caused by her breaking up with Callum. Is she cool with helping now Chelsea is on the scene?”

Quinn had no idea what Bailey thought of Callum’s new fiancée—their night had happened before all that and he’d steered clear of her since—but he guessed Chelsea was the least of her problems now. “Yes, seems to be. Bailey’s a professional.”

Lachlan nodded. “Yes, you’re right. She is.”

For a moment Quinn considered confiding in his brother—he and Lachlan had always been closer than he and Callum, and as Lachlan was a dad, he’d be more likely to understand the mixed feelings consuming Quinn right now. Panic, guilt, anger—he had them all. He wanted to ask how Lachlan had felt when he’d first discovered his ex-wife was pregnant. If he’d ever doubted his abilities as a father. If he instinctively knew what to do when his babies were first placed in his arms. If there was any parenting how-to book he absolutely should buy.

But he swallowed his questions, summoned a carefree grin onto his face and punched Lachlan playfully on the arm. “We’ll chat soon and Bailey will probably be in contact, as well.”

“Okay, I’ll look forward to it.”

As his brother slipped back inside the house, Quinn wondered how Bailey had managed to keep her pregnancy a secret so far, because he’d known less than twenty-four hours and was already desperate to confide in someone.

Chapter Three

Arriving early, Quinn paused outside the café in downtown Bend and peered in through the window, checking to see if Bailey had arrived yet. He immediately located her at a table in the corner, leaning over a newspaper as if it had the answers to world peace scrawled across the pages.

And man, she was beautiful. Her dark, shiny hair fell slightly across her eyes, and without the pajamas of last night, she was back to her immaculately dressed self—black leggings, knee-high boots to match a long knit sweater thing, bright chunky jewelry hanging around her neck. She looked together, refreshed and pregnant.

No one else might be able to tell, but to him the differences were obvious. Her skin definitely glowed, and even from this vantage point, he noted her breasts had increased at least a cup size. Quinn swallowed at the recollection of exactly how those breasts had felt in his hands, her nipples growing tight as he’d swiped his tongue over the top of them. He hadn’t had sex like that in a long time.

Quinn caught himself. Was this the way he should be thinking about the mother of his child? Despite the cool temperature of the day, a flush crawled up his neck at the thought. Then again, maybe this was exactly the way he should be thinking—it wouldn’t be a hardship getting serious with Bailey, as his libido was already a hundred percent behind the idea. He might not have planned on committing to anyone, but he’d make damn sure he never did to his child what his dad had done to him. And that meant doing right by the kid’s mother.