To Keep Her Baby. Melissa Senate

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      He had to admit, it was nice to see the sparkle back in her eyes. “You’ve got a bunch more to try on. And I’ll have to get to my office in about thirty minutes.”

      “Back in a flash,” she said, zipping into the dressing room with a big smile.

      Why did he have to like that smile so much?

      Fifteen minutes later, she had three outfits, two dresses and three pairs of shoes. Larilla didn’t have an account here, so he would need to pay. His godmother would reimburse him—the wealthy businesswoman insisted on comping a week’s worth of new clothes for all of her students—but walking up to the checkout with his credit card sent a jolt of acid to his gut, reminding him of Ava and her betrayal.

      Careful, he reminded himself. You don’t know Ginger O’Leary or what she’s capable of. You never know what someone is capable of.

      “Mama got some pretty new clothes!” Ginger said, seemingly to her belly, one hand on her stomach.

      He instantly relaxed. Ginger was pregnant. Pregnant. If there was anything that would keep him running for the hills, it was that. After seven years of “parenthood” times five, he was ready for croissants and good coffee in Paris, and the white sand and turquoise waters of Bali. Not a baby. So he really had nothing to worry about in terms of becoming attracted—or attached—to Ginger O’Leary.

      Phew.