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“You want to give it another go?” Dylan joked, putting his phone in his pocket.

“No, I’m pregnant,” Lucy said, quietly, not daring to look at him directly.

The silence was deafening.

“Oh my God, wow,” said Dylan finally. He stared at her stomach. The colour had leached from his face.

“And you’re the father,” Lucy added. “If that wasn’t already clear.”

“But . . . we used protection.”

“I know!” Lucy snapped. “But it’s not one hundred per cent effective and it’s definitely yours, OK?”

“OK!” Dylan replied, lifting up his hands to show surrender. “I’m sorry. This has come as a bit of a shock.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” muttered Lucy.

“May I sit down?”

“Sure.” Lucy shrugged.

She watched as he took down two chairs. He sat on one and she automatically took the other.

Dylan ran his hands through his hair. “How long have you known?” he asked.

Lucy checked her phone. “Roughly forty-five minutes? I took some tests a few minutes before you came in with Michael.”

“So, you’re sure?”

Lucy gave herself a second before answering. She could feel herself getting annoyed with him. Surprising, that. “I wouldn’t be telling you if I wasn’t sure! I took three tests, and they were all positive. Carrie convinced me to do them because I’ve been feeling really rubbish for ages and my symptoms matched what she’s had with her pregnancy. And so, lo and behold . . . I’m growing a baby.”

Dylan’s brow knotted.

“The only person who knows is Carrie,” Lucy continued, “and possibly Michael by now, because you know how terrible Carrie is at keeping secrets from him.”

Dylan nodded. “Um . . . how do you want to go about this?”

Lucy was suddenly aware that they were both sitting awkwardly in the empty coffee shop discussing something that was rather important. She should at least offer him a cup of tea? Invite him upstairs, so they could be more relaxed on the sofa while they talked? No. That stupid sofa was where this whole thing had started. There was no way she was suggesting they go there.

“I have no idea,” she admitted. “I guess I’ll call up the doctor tomorrow and get the whole process of . . . everything they do . . . midwife appointments and scans and stuff started.”

“Right.”

“Look, obviously we need to talk about this more,” Lucy said. “But I’m still getting my head around the whole thing myself, and I’m in the middle of baking.” As if on cue, the oven timer dinged. “I need to get that,” she said.

“I’ll get going then.” Dylan stood and ran his fingers through his hair. “And we’ll talk soon. Let me know about . . . appointments and stuff.”

“Sure,” said Lucy, already opening the door for him to leave.

Dylan seemed in a daze as he stepped outside and gave an odd little wave as she shut the door. She couldn’t really blame him, Lucy thought as she hurried back into the kitchen to save her cakes from overcooking. He’d just had a complete bombshell dropped on him. A bombshell that was going to affect the rest of his life. Though potentially not as much as it was going to affect hers, she couldn’t help thinking. If Dylan chose to, he could have very little to do with their baby. She certainly wouldn’t be pushing him to be around all the time. Maybe he’d do a runner now. She had to admit that was very unlikely. His best friend was married to her best friend, for a start, and she and Dylan were business partners so they were already connected.

She wasn’t sure what would be worse: if he showed no interest whatsoever in their child, or if he tried to take over with him or her.

She couldn’t even remember when she and Dylan had first started bickering . . . it was just something they’d always done. He’d been everything she despised in a man — so sure of himself and that he knew better than her what was best for her. And the way that women just seemed to fall at his feet, just because he was good-looking and flicked his hair about a bit. He’d probably never had to work for anything in his life and spent it bouncing from one happy circumstance to the next. And now she was not only going to be sharing her precious business with him, but a child as well. Just how had she managed to get herself into this situation?

She took the cakes out of the oven trays and left them to cool while she brewed herself a peppermint tea to, hopefully, calm her still unhappy stomach. She then made some flowers out of icing for the cupcakes. They’d have to have glacé icing on top rather than buttercream because she really couldn’t face dealing with any more butter.

She heard a faint knocking sound at the door. Was it Carrie coming to check on her? She went out into the dining area and her stomach dropped as she saw Dylan through the glass.