One

      Six months later

      Benji inhaled the scent of the roses, lilies and snapdragons overflowing his arms as he approached Sloane’s building.

      The edge of his mouth curled in a faint smile. Sloane had always loved the scent of the snapdragons his mother grew in their front yard.

      He halted in front of the red door and drew in a deep breath.

       It’s just friends going out for coffee. No big deal.

      At least that was the first step of his grand plan. He’d invite her to coffee where they could have a discussion on neutral ground about the possibility of picking up where they’d left off before he’d departed for Japan.

      He’d casually inquired about Sloane during his absence, but his sister had been unusually tight-lipped about her friend, so he didn’t press. It would only raise his sister’s suspicions about why he was so interested.

      So he’d simply told Delia that he needed Sloane’s address for his Christmas list. Not a lie, but not the primary reason he was asking.

      Benji had considered picking up the phone and calling Sloane while he was in Japan. But she’d been so adamant that walking away was the right thing to do. There was no way he would’ve been able to persuade her with a long-distance phone call.

      He’d kept himself busy with work, but when it was time to book his flight home, he realized he’d arrive on Valentine’s Day.

      It had seemed like a sign.

      So instead of flying directly to Seattle, he’d booked a flight to Nashville. He needed to speak to Sloane in person.

      Maybe he was crazy to believe there could be anything more between them. But dealing with Sloane’s rejection would be a lot less painful than suffering a lifetime of regret.

      Clutching the flower arrangement in one arm, he rang Sloane’s buzzer.

      “You looking for Sloane?” The woman in the unit across from Sloane’s peered down from the balcony where she was sweeping. “She left a couple of hours ago, but if you have a delivery for her, I’ll sign for it.”

      “Thank you.” Benji tried not to sound as defeated as he felt. “But Sloane’s an old family friend. I was hoping to deliver these in person.”

      “Then you’re in luck.” The older woman pointed toward a vehicle that had just turned down the lane next to the building. “That’s her truck pulling around back.”

      Benji thanked the woman and made his way behind the building. Sloane had parked her car in the garage and was rummaging in her trunk.

      He approached her silently, still replaying in his head exactly what he planned to say. Gripping the flowers in one arm, Benji stopped a few feet short of where she stood. He shoved his free hand in his pocket.

      “Hey, Sloane.”

      “Benji?” Her body stiffened, and she glanced over her shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

      Not the reception he’d hoped for. He forced a smile anyway.

      “I wanted to surprise you for Valentine’s Day. I thought that, if you don’t already have plans, maybe we could do something together.” He cleared his throat when she still hadn’t turned around. “I flew straight here from Japan because I really needed to see you.”

      “You shouldn’t have come.” She turned back to the groceries in her trunk. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”

      “I know it isn’t, but—”

      “You should go. Now. Please.” She arranged the grocery bags in her trunk into two rows, her back to him.

      “Can’t we at least talk about this?” He hated that he sounded like a kid negotiating his bedtime with the babysitter. He was a grown man. A business owner. A self-made fucking billionaire whose business advice was in demand.

      So why did he revert to a love-struck little boy whenever he was around Sloane?

      “No.” Sloane stood up straight, abruptly smacking her head on the raised deck lid. She swayed, her body going limp.

      “Sloane!” Benji dropped the flowers to the ground and surged forward, catching her before she hit the concrete.

      “I’ve got you.” He hoisted her into his arms. She was noticeably heavier than she’d been when he’d carried her to his bed six months ago.

      Is that why she didn’t want to see him? Was she self-conscious about her weight gain? She should know him well enough to realize that would never matter to him.

      “Sloane. Sloane! Honey, are you all right?” His heart beat faster.

      She was breathing but unresponsive.

      Benji carried her to the passenger side of her car and put her in the seat to drive her to the hospital. He stretched the seat belt to put it over her, his gaze trailing down to her burgeoning belly.

      “Sloane, you’re... I mean...are you—”

      “Pregnant?” The word came out as more of a moan as her eyes fluttered open. One hand moved to her belly and rubbed it in a soothing circle. “Yes.”

      “Exactly how pregnant are you?”

      “Very.” Sloane forced a weak laugh, then winced. When he didn’t react, she cleared her throat and her expression grew serious, too. Her response was little more than a whisper. “Six months.”

      “Is it... I mean...am I...” He felt as if he were suffocating, unable to get the words out. He swallowed hard and tried again. “Is the baby mine?”

      “I haven’t been with anyone but you since my divorce, so my money is on you. I’m not really the immaculate conception type.”

      He narrowed his gaze at Sloane. How could she joke about the fact that he was going to be a father in just a few months and she hadn’t even had the decency to let him know. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

      “Honestly? I don’t know.” The sarcasm she’d been using as a shield evaporated, and he noticed that the corners of her eyes were suddenly damp. Her gaze didn’t meet his. “That weekend, you made it pretty clear that you weren’t the daddy type.”

      “What do you—” He stopped midsentence, recalling their conversation about his niece.

       Evie’s a cool kid and everything, but 3:00 a.m. feedings and dirty diapers just aren’t for me.

      “I was speaking in hypotheticals. As in, I had no immediate plans to have children. Not as in, I’m such a coldhearted bastard that I wouldn’t want to know my own baby.”

      “Babies.” Sloane emphasized the s at the end of the word as she reached up and rubbed the spot where the lid of the trunk had tagged her head. She grimaced.

      “Twins?” Benji’s voice reverted to the high pitch of a boy entering puberty. He cleared his throat and tried again. “We’re having twins?”

      Benji’s gaze returned to her belly. For a moment he felt weak. As if everything was spinning around them.

      “I’m