Then Comes Marriage

by Bonnie Pega

Genres: Women's Fiction; Romance; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

In Bonnie Pega’s captivating love story, a sworn bachelor falls for the most unexpected woman of all: an expectant mother.
 
When the tall, dark, sensual stranger walks into her Lamaze class with his pregnant sister-in-law, Liberty Austin’s reaction is immediate—and exhilarating. Blame it on the hormones, but the newly single mom-to-be can’t stop fantasizing about the seductive hunk who’s all wrong for her. His name’s Zachary Webster. He’s a genius tech entrepreneur with big plans for his future. And they don’t include marriage and fatherhood.
 
Meeting the woman of his dreams—a radiant beauty with soulful blue eyes—while she’s carrying another man’s baby might be the definition of bad luck, but Zac stopped believing in picket fences and happy endings long ago. So why is he finding it impossible to stay away from Libby . . . especially after he helps deliver her baby? Suddenly Zac is confronted with the toughest choice he’s ever had to make: a lonely existence free of risk and heartbreak or a life with the family he’s come to love.

Release date: May 13, 2014

Publisher: Loveswept

Print pages: 256

Sample

ONE
 
Liberty Austin couldn’t help but notice the man who’d just walked in the door. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere but there.
 
“You okay?”
 
She smiled at her best friend and labor coach, Deb Greenley, and whispered, “I’m fine, Deb, but”—she affectionately patted her swollen abdomen—“Cupcake here is getting restless.” She turned her curious gaze back to the man standing in the entrance. “Do you know him?”
 
“Nooo, but he is good to look at, don’t you think?”
 
Libby gave a noncommittal shrug, but privately agreed. He was a few inches over six feet and about two hundred pounds, and he filled up the doorway as though he were a giant. And his size had nothing to do with it—it was the self-confidence he exuded.
 
She couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, but they were fringed with startlingly long dark lashes that might have made him look effeminate if his features weren’t so rugged. His lips were thin and sensual and currently curled in an uncomfortable smile as he murmured something to the very pregnant blonde at his side.
 
Libby suppressed a sigh. She should have figured he was married. Single men seldom frequented Lamaze classes. Not that she needed another man in her life, she mused as she absently rubbed her side where a small elbow or knee prodded her. After all, she was still dealing with the aftereffects of the last man in her life.
 
After four miserable years of marriage, she’d been left with the house, a stack of bills the size of the national debt, and Cupcake. Bobby, on the other hand, had absconded to Nassau with his nineteen-year-old secretary. Yet Libby felt like she’d gotten the better deal. Despite her occasional bouts of insecurity over the prospect of raising a child alone, she was still far happier now than she’d been in a long time.
 
“They showed up just in time for break.” Deb grinned as Mabel, the Lamaze teacher, indicated juice and decaffeinated coffee in the corner.
 
Libby got to her feet as gracefully as twenty-six extra pounds would allow, and followed Deb to the refreshments. “He looks like he’d rather not have shown up at all,” she murmured.
 
“Definitely a fish out of water,” agreed Deb.
 
A fish indeed. Libby had been fishing a couple of times in her life and she knew that there were the ones you threw back and the ones that were keepers. He looked like a keeper to her.
 
Zachary Webster surveyed the room of pregnant women and sighed. He’d rather have been diving into a pool of sharks. Or entering a room full of the hungry corporate variety—he knew what to do there. He did it every day. Here, he just felt like a beached whale—flopping around futilely on the sand.
 
He looked around the room again, his eyes alighting on a dark-haired woman with the porcelain complexion and tranquil countenance of a Madonna. He took in too many things about her to absorb them all at once—sleek, shiny hair that swung down her back, the lushness of her breasts, the delicate rounded curve of her cheek, the not-so-delicate rounded curve of her abdomen. Damn.
 
“Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going in?”
 
Zac pulled his attention away from the mesmerizing woman and smiled affectionately at his sister-in-law. “You owe me for this, Hannah. You really do.”
 
She smiled back and hooked her arm through his. “You’ll live, Zac m’dear.”
 
“Ben should have been here with you,” Zac muttered. “He has no business—”
 
“Well, he’s not here,” Hannah interrupted. “And you are.”
 
“Lucky me.” He found his gaze again lingering on the Madonna. Silk and satin, he thought. Skin that looked silky-soft, hair with the sleek sheen of satin. Definitely the kind of woman who would be heaven to hold—and hell on his plans.
 
When the break was over, they joined the other couples on the floor. The Lamaze instructor turned out the lights and began showing a film of a natural childbirth. As they watched the woman on the screen go through labor, Zac heard a feminine voice mutter, “I wonder if it’s too late to change my mind and go to the nearest cabbage patch instead.” Terrific voice, he thought, sexy-soft and laced with humor.
 
He turned his head to see who’d made the remark, which he could wholeheartedly endorse, and met the dark blue eyes of his Madonna. Only they weren’t Madonna eyes. The merry sparkle belied the cool serenity of her face.
 
When she saw his look, she gave a sheepish smile and shrugged.
 
He caught his breath. Her lips looked as soft and pink as the blush on a ripe peach, and they were parted slightly in a delectable smile. It seemed to crawl inside him and heat him clear through. He had to meet her.
 
“I’m Zac Webster,” he whispered. “And this is Hannah.”
 
Hannah turned around. “Hi,” she said.
 
“I’m Liberty Austen. Libby. And this is my labor coach, Deb Greenley.”
 
Hannah winked at the other two women and said, “Zac’s brother said that when Zac was thirteen, he threw up when his gerbil had babies. How I’m ever going to get him into the delivery room, I don’t know.”
 
Deb piped up, “How about a whip and a chair?” The three women smiled companionably.
 
“Don’t you think you should watch the film and quit picking on me?” asked Zac.
 
“Maybe you should watch the film,” Hannah countered. “You might learn something.”
 
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Zac muttered, and turned back to the film.
 
Zac was a nice name, Libby thought wistfully, her eyes lingering on the back of his head. His dark hair looked as though it had been expertly cut and styled, yet unruly waves still gave his hair the appearance of having had impatient fingers run through it—or maybe a woman’s fingers. She wondered if it was as soft as it looked, then frowned at the sudden urge to touch it and find out.
 
She squirmed, feeling uncomfortable about thinking about one man while carrying another man’s baby. Even though she and Bobby were divorced—and it had been over between them long before that—it felt like cheating.
 
She pulled her attention to the film, which showed a tired, perspiring, but obviously elated couple cooing over the brand-new baby in their arms. Libby fought back a sharp stab of envy, and her eyes burned with tears. She’d have given anything to be able to share the birth of her baby with someone who loved her. She didn’t even want to think about all the other things she wouldn’t be able to share—the first tooth, the first word, the first step. Libby set her jaw and willed the always-looming loneliness away.
 
When class was over, a group of couples decided to go to the ice cream shop next door. Deb excused herself, since she had to be at the office early the next day, but Libby, always in the mood for ice cream—especially chocolate—went and found herself sharing a booth with Zac and Hannah.
 
The two women hit it off with the instant camaraderie that can occur only between two women going through the eighth month of pregnancy at the same time. They compared notes on doctors, baby names, and swollen ankles, discussed the virtues of breastfeeding over bottle feeding and compared brands of diapers.
 
And somehow, in between all the pleasant chatter, Hannah managed to ferret out all kinds of information about Libby. She found out Libby was divorced, a junior high school teacher, had a house not more than a couple of miles from Hannah’s, loved football, baseball, and art exhibits, and was allergic to strawberries.
 
Zac watched his sister-in-law with amazement, tinged with a great deal of respect. Perry Mason couldn’t have learned so much about Libby. And the tidbits she was uncovering about the intriguing woman with the Madonna smile and hellion eyes interested him. For some reason, he felt both relieved and angry to learn she was divorced. He was angry because she had to go through her baby’s birth alone. He felt relieved because—well, he shied away from thinking about that.
 
Funny, he liked football and baseball and art exhibits too. He wasn’t allergic to strawberries but didn’t like them very much. As Hannah continued her sleuthing, he found out that Libby loved old movies and read both science fiction and murder mysteries. So did he. He sighed. Just his luck to have to have so much in common with a woman who was eight months pregnant.
 
“You and Zac certainly have a lot in common,” remarked Hannah as if echoing his thoughts. “Oh, did you know Tyler’s is having a sale on infants’ clothes Saturday? Do you want to meet for lunch and go check it out?”
 
“I’d love to,” said Libby. She licked a last bit of chocolate from her spoon.
 
“Then I’ll call you Friday night to arrange a time. Zac, it’s after ten. You said you had an early meeting tomorrow and you still have to take me home. Libby, where are you parked?”
 
“Just around the corner.” Libby eyed the two of them speculatively. Take Hannah home first? Were they married or weren’t they? Hannah wore a ring. Zac didn’t, but then, some men didn’t. Maybe they were divorced or separated.