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“No. I’ll stay.”

“I apologize… I should’ve realized you might have made other plans.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll finish up here.”

“No, it’s all right, really,” she insisted. “It isn’t like I’m due next week or anything. We have plenty of time.”

“I said I’d stay.”

She swallowed hard and nodded. “Thanks.”

Chad went back to the baby’s room and she went into the kitchen. The cupboard above the refrigerator held a bottle of merlot. Gloria couldn’t remember how long it’d been there—well over a year, anyway. But aging red wine was supposed to improve the flavor. Opening the bottle proved to be a challenge but she managed. She poured Chad a glass and carried it into the bedroom.

“Here, this might help,” she said, handing him the wineglass.

“Thanks.”

“I wish I could join you… .”

“Another time, perhaps. After the baby’s born.” He sent her a warm smile, which she immediately fell victim to; he’d had that effect on her from the beginning.

“I also bought a mobile.” The words tumbled out in her effort to break the spell he had over her.

“Does it need assembly?”

“No.”

“That’s a relief,” he teased, laughing.

She laughed, too.

He had one side of the crib attached when her stomach growled, reminding her that it’d been a long time since lunch. If she was hungry, Chad likely was, too.

“I’ll fix us some dinner,” she suggested, eager to do something useful. She wasn’t much help with the crib, other than to reread the instructions aloud. Every once in a while he’d ask her to repeat a step and she’d struggle with the poor syntax and confused vocabulary. At one point Chad muttered that English must be the author’s fourth or fifth language. Smiling, Gloria agreed.

“Don’t go to any trouble,” Chad said.

“I won’t.”

Not until she was in her kitchen did she realize this was the first time she’d ever cooked for him. She’d soon be giving birth to his son and yet they’d never once shared a home-cooked meal. She had to wonder if Joni ever cooked for him and decided she probably did.

Gloria didn’t have a large repertoire of recipes. One of her favorites was a seafood pasta dish. Corrie had given her the recipe, which she, in turn, had received from Peggy Beldon. Setting a pot of water on to boil, she got the shrimp and scallops from the freezer and canned clams from the cupboard.

She’d chopped the onions and fresh parsley when Chad appeared. “I need a break,” he said, holding his half-full wineglass.

“I hope you aren’t allergic to seafood?” she asked, suddenly worried.

“Nope. Love it.”

“Oh, good.” What a sad commentary that she should know so little about him.

Chad leaned against the counter and she wondered if he had any idea how sexy he looked.

The phone rang and she answered it without checking caller ID. It was her brother.

“Just calling to make sure you don’t need any help putting that crib together,” Mack said.

“I’ve got it under control. Thanks, though.”

“No problem. Linc said he could help, too, if you want.”

“Thank you both. I appreciate it.”

“Okay, well, give me a call if you need anything.”

“I will.”

When Gloria replaced the receiver, she saw Chad frowning into his wine. He obviously thought her conversation had been with someone she was dating. Remembering how wretched she’d felt when he was on the phone with Joni, she didn’t explain. Let him think what he would. He didn’t ask and she didn’t enlighten him.

Chad finished his glass of wine and replenished it.

“Would you like me to turn on the radio?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Sure.”

Soon soft rock filled the kitchen, followed by radio personality Delilah’s soothing voice.

While the fettuccine boiled, Gloria set the table, adding a bowl of freshly grated Parmesan cheese. She placed two candles in the center, as well.

“It looks like you’ve created this intimate little scene before,” he commented as she stirred the pasta.

“With the hours I work?” While she was on patrol duty, she’d rotated between swing shift and graveyard. Her nights and days were often reversed. Chad knew