“And that’s all we need,” I said, rubbing my still-flat belly. “Not some guy who’s all like ‘You’re…what? Could you repeat that? But we…We used…’” I’d always had a knack for impressions, and I modeled his tone perfectly, deepening my voice and rolling myRs. “Like everyone knows condoms are only so effective. Why do I have to explain that to a grown man?”
The grin on Cat’s face disappeared faster than a midge in winter.
“Not a bad impression,” a rumbling voice said.
Shit. I glanced over my shoulder to find Locke standing in the doorway, a small smile playing at his mouth, looking unfairly good in the warm kitchen light. Gah! Momentary panic surged through me as the red-hot flame of embarrassment bit at my cheeks.
“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear,” Cat muttered under her breath.
I fought the urge to hide my face, narrowing my eyes at Locke instead. I hadn’t realized he was standing there, but what did I care if he’d overheard? Everything I’d said was true.
“If the inn doesn’t work out for you, you’ve got a future in voice work,” he said.
“Yes, that’s how I’ll be supporting our child,” I quipped.
Cat’s lips twitched. She stood and carried the kettle to the sink for more water.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. And who’d even let him back in the kitchen? This area was for employees only. I’d left Maisie managing the front desk. Had he managed to slip past her?
Locke cleared his throat. “Lena told me you like to take your tea around this time.” For the first time, I realized he was holding a tin. “She sent me over with a peace offering of shortbread. Agnes made them.”
I pursed my lips.
“Agnes, you say?” Cat leaned against the counter, waiting for the kettle to boil. She was practically drooling, her eyes locked on the tin.
I didn’t want his peace offering, but everyone knew Weston’s housekeeper, Agnes, was the best cook in town. Refusing him would be like turning down biscuit gold.
“I should probably inspect the goods,” Cat said, holding her hand out for the tin.
Locke regarded her, eyebrow arched slightly, sizing her up, probably wondering who she was and why the hell she was talking to him.
“This is Cat,” I said curtly, introducing them. “She owns the café next door.”
“Nice to meet you.” His eyes flickered between us. “Isla, I was hoping we could chat,” he said. “Alone.”
Cat plopped herself in a chair and stared at him pointedly. “Just consider me part of the furniture.”
“I’d rather not.”
She crossed her arms, one thin black eyebrow lifting in challenge. “Well, it’s not your kitchen, so I’d say that’s not your decision.”
Locke frowned, opening his mouth to respond.
“She’s staying,” I interrupted coolly. Part of me knew this was Cat wanting to have my back. The other part of me knew she was absolutely loving the drama. I could tell she was restraining herself from grabbing popcorn. But I loved my gossip queen bestie, and either way, Locke wasn’t about to kickmyfriends out ofmykitchen. “She already knows about the baby. Now what do you want?”
His gaze dropped to my belly, his nostrils flaring. I could tell he was getting annoyed. “Obviously to talk about…logistics.”
I crossed my arms. “I already told you, I’m fine on my own. I have no issue being a single parent.” My mom had done it, and she’d been amazing. It’s not like I didn’t have a dad at all, but my parents divorced when I was seven, and after Mom and I moved to the US, Dad wasn’t really part of my life anymore. It had been me and Mom against the world. Now, it could be me and baby against the world. We’d be fine. No, we’d begreat.
Locke ran his hand over his face. “Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. You just…caught me off guard. I intend to be part of my child’s life.”
“Oh, do you?”
He took a step toward me. “I’m not going to ditch this responsibility.”
He sounded serious and sincere, but this was the same man who’d had a meltdown about sheep and his precious car getting muddy. “Sure you’re not just worried about how it would look for your company?” I said.
“How does us having a child have anything to do with my company?” he fired back.
