Suddenly Engaged (A Lake Haven Novel Book 3) Read online

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Text copyright © 2017 by Dinah Dinwiddie All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher. Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle www.apub.com Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates. ISBN-13: 9781477848616 ISBN-10: 1477848614 Cover design by Eileen Carey

  Contents Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Epilogue About the Author

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  Prologue The pregnancy test kits were lined up in formation like a marching band on her bathroom counter. Seven of them in all, one for each day of the week, four digital wands in the back row, three nondigital wands in the front. Kyra watched Brandi closely as she stared down at the sticks. “You’re pregnant,” Brandi announced. “Maybe it’s the brand,” Kyra suggested hopefully. “Maybe I should try different brands just to be sure.” Brandi gave her a side eye. “You’re pregnant, Kyra.” Kyra swallowed down a swell of nausea. What was that, morning sickness? Or was she just sick with worry? She couldn’t be pregnant. There was no room in her life for pregnant. “Maybe I should try the test in the middle of the night. You know hormones fluctuate at night.” Brandi didn’t bother to respond to such inanity. She turned around and walked out of the bathroom. Kyra reluctantly followed. Brandi draped her supermodel-thin body over Kyra’s secondhand couch, then flipped her blonde Brazilian Blowout over

  Chapter One Seven years later July Leave it to a female to think the rules did not apply to her. The little heathen from next door was crawling under the split-rail fence that separated the cottages again. Dax, who already had been feeling pretty damn grumpy going on a year now, wondered why she didn’t just go over the fence. She was big enough. It was almost as if she wanted the mud on her dress and her knees, to drag the ends of her dark red ponytails through the muck. She crawled under, stood up, and knocked the caked mud off her knees. She stomped her pink, sparkly cowboy boots—never had he seen a more impractical shoe—to make them light up, as she liked to do, hopping around her porch several times a day. Then she started for cottage Number Two, arms swinging, stride long. Dax watched her from inside his kitchen, annoyed. It had started a week ago, when she’d climbed on the bottom railing of the fence, leaned over it, and shouted, “I like your dog!” He’d ignored her. Two days ago

  Chapter Two Kyra went in silently, like a shark, quietly circling around the two women bent over their wineglasses, sliding in to collect the check so she could get the hell out of here. The women had been at the Lakeside Bistro since two o’clock, giggling and whispering across the table, ordering glass after glass of wine, showing no signs of going anywhere, which meant Kyra had to wait it out until the night shift showed up. This was not how her day was supposed to go. But when did it ever go as she’d planned? Had anything gone as planned since Brandi met Kyra at Planned Parenthood and Kyra had realized she couldn’t end her pregnancy? As much as she hadn’t wanted to be pregnant, as much as she’d hated that unexpected and catastrophic complication in her life, she just couldn’t go through with it. She’d had a breakdown in the lobby instead, and Brandi had gently steered her in through another door—the intended pregnancy door—where they verified Kyra was indeed pregnant, loaded her up

  Chapter Three The next morning, with his latest creations secured in the bed of his truck, Dax backed down the drive of Number Two. He glanced at Number Three as he turned onto the main road. There was no pickup this morning, no slamming of doors. The Subaru was sitting in the drive, the loose books he’d placed on its hood still there. There was no sign of life in that cottage, which, in the short time the Coconuts had been there, seemed unusual. Dax wondered if he ought to be concerned, then thought the better of it. If he was concerned, he’d need to have a look. If he had a look, either Ruby Coconuts or her unacceptably attractive mother would come to the door, and there would go his day. So Dax drove on to East Beach and to the Green Bean coffee shop, where he had a morning joe and a bear claw as he perused the local paper. To say there wasn’t much happening in East Beach would be an understatement. This town was supposed to be the place to be in the summer. There were a lot of summ

  Chapter Four Her neighbor might not be a pervert or a nerdy ax murderer, but Kyra was beginning to suspect he was a Number One Ass. Okay, yes, no one knew better than Kyra that Ruby could be a pest, and the kid had gone across the fence again in spite of being told more than once she was not to do it. But she was six, and that man was very judgmental, and Kyra did not like judgmental people. She’d had her fill of them, thank you, since the moment she’d gotten herself knocked up and endured all the side eyes as her belly grew. She was tired of whispered speculation about the sort of person she was. Today was her day off, for God’s sake, and she was entitled to a drink if she wanted one, but she hadn’t actually had anything to drink! She’d brought the wine out here and set it on the railing, then had made the mistake of lying down in the hammock. The breeze was soft and cool, the leaves of the maple trees were rustling, and the perpetual exhaustion that seemed to surround her every day h

  Chapter Five Ruby was still asleep when Mrs. Miller arrived the next morning. The woman was not the best babysitter in the world by a long stretch, but at least she was punctual. She walked into the cottage with her black handbag over her shoulder, a lunch box in one hand, a big plaid thermos in the other. “Good morning,” Kyra said. “Morning,” Mrs. Miller said and stalked past Kyra on her way to the kitchen. She put her lunch box down on the countertop, opened it, and removed a sandwich and some fruit, which she shoved into the fridge. She turned back to zip up her lunch box and eyed Kyra. “What are you standing there for? Don’t you need to go to work?” “I do. I wanted to ask if you could keep a close eye on Ruby today.” Mrs. Miller’s head came up, her expression unhappy. “I always keep an eye on her.” Well, no, she didn’t, but Kyra didn’t want to argue. “It’s just that she’s been sneaking over to the neighbor’s cottage and he’s not happy about that.” She winced apologetically, and she

  Chapter Six In his kitchen, Dax unwrapped the cookies and tossed one in his mouth—and then immediately spit it out into the sink, coughing. Otto began to wag his tail furiously. “What the hell?” he asked, holding the rest of the cookies up to have a closer look. “That’s the worst crap I’ve ever tasted.” Was it a joke? It was all salt and something else, something truly awful. He glared out his kitchen window. He could see her at her kitchen window, working at the sink. Maybe the kid really had made them by herself. He bent over, opened the cabinet beneath the sink, and pulled out the trash can. Otto instantly thrust his nose into it. “Get out,” Dax growled. “Even you can’t stomach these.” He tossed the rest of the cookies into the bin, then shoved it back under the sink. When he straightened up again, Kyra had disappeared. She had some very pretty eyes, he mused. And some perky breasts. Not that he was looking. Well, he’d glanced. He couldn’t help but glance because there they were, po

 
Chapter Seven Kyra was surprisingly happy that she didn’t have to listen to the constant sound of that screen door slapping shut, but she realized very quickly that now she didn’t know when Ruby went in and out. When it came time for supper, she thought Ruby was in her room but found her in the newly planted rosebush beds Mr. McCauley had installed last week. Ruby was burying some of her Little People. “Why?” Kyra demanded irritably as she dug them up and tried to repair the mulch. “So someone can find them,” Ruby said. That made no sense to Kyra but seemed plainly logical to Ruby’s six-year-old brain. Ruby was in bed now, and Kyra was, as always, beat. She wondered how those single moms with three children did it. She thought about Taleesha, Ruby’s friend. Kyra had taken Ruby into the city to attend Taleesha’s birthday party today because Ruby missed her so much. They’d practically grown up together in the day care where Kyra had worked. But Taleesha’s mother had three more children,

  Chapter Eight “Can you work a double?” Randa Lassiter asked when Kyra showed up for her shift Friday. “Yes!” Kyra said instantly. “Well, I think—let me call my babysitter.” “Okay, but do it quick. If you can’t, I have to find someone to cover Nyree’s shift tonight,” Randa said as she returned her gaze to some paperwork she had spread on the bar. “I’ll be back in two shakes,” Kyra said and hurried back to the area where the staff stored their things during their shifts. Deenie was there, primping before the mirror. “Hey,” she said. “Randa asked me if I could work a double!” Kyra almost squealed. “I just have to convince Mrs. Miller to agree.” She dug her phone out of her purse and held up two crossed fingers to Deenie. Deenie responded by crossing her fingers, too. Mrs. Miller answered after the first ring. Kyra could hear the TV blaring in the background. The day started with Good Morning America, then slid into soap operas, then the Judge Judy–type shows, and of course Dr. Phil, and t

  Chapter Nine Dax thought he was dreaming when he heard the tap tap tap on his door. He lifted his head and blinked and then looked around. Everything was as it should be—Otto snoring at the foot of his bed, the light from the streetlights near the lake weakly filtering in through his curtains. He’d imagined it. He punched his pillow, then resettled. The knock came again, only this time it was loud and insistent. Otto leapt from the bed, barking and sliding across the hardwood floor as he tried to get out of the room and head for the front door to rip someone’s head off. The pounding came again, and Dax felt a slight panic. No one came knocking on a person’s door in the middle of the night except the police or home invaders. What time was it, anyway? He glanced at the clock. Half past twelve. The knocking came again, and he shouted, “Just a damn minute!” He groped around, trying to find something to clock this person with. Finding nothing in the bedroom, he marched through the kitchen,

  Chapter Ten As far as bad days went, this one ranked near the top, and God knew several had already crowded up there. Add the awkwardness of having kissed Dax—what sort of temporary insanity was that?—to her humiliation in having to accept his offer to fix her car because she was, as usual, broke, and now the news that Deenie’s friend Phil had passed on the offer of meeting Kyra, she was batting a thousand. Talk about feeling like the scourge of society. “He doesn’t want to even meet me?” Kyra asked Deenie again, just to make sure she understood correctly. “It’s not that he doesn’t want to meet you,” Deenie said, although she’d said, He said thanks, but he’d rather not meet you. “It’s just not a good time for him.” “Wow,” Kyra said. “Wow.” She was sort of hoping. Actually, hoping was too soft a word. Since last night, she was praying for any alternative that would keep her from doing things like banging on Dax’s door after midnight and then kissing him like a desperate head case who ha

  Chapter Eleven He had to stop kissing that girl, that’s all there was to it. Now, because he’d kissed her, and he’d kept thinking about kissing her, and he’d been off his game, Dax had managed to get himself stuck hosting a small barbecue. He’d rather guide a canoe over Niagara Falls, but that’s what happened when a woman distracted a man—he said and did dumb things. It happened the day after that kiss. He was up early. He hadn’t slept well because he’d been thinking about it all night. And he had some furniture to deliver that morning and was worried the varnish hadn’t dried. He stopped in at the Green Bean to devour a bear claw and read the morning paper, starting with page one and then concluding with the MLB box scores, none of which he retained thanks to Kyra and her lips, then headed over to John Beverly Home Interiors. He pulled around to the back just as Wallace was arriving at work in his red roadster. Wallace was wearing bright yellow pants today with a pink polo shirt, a bel

  Chapter Twelve It figured that the one time Dax would host a barbecue, it would rain. It rained all day, on again, off again, and kept him guessing whether he’d have to cram five people into Number Two. It felt a little as if God was messing with him. At three o’clock, miraculously, there was a bit of sunshine over the lake and a break in the clouds. Maybe God had had his chuckles for the day and was going to cut Dax a break. Dax went outside to make a picnic table. He spaced three sawhorses, then laid a couple of planks of pine across them and nailed those together. He was unrolling the felt when he heard a small coconut shout, “Hey! What are you doing?” He looked over his shoulder; she was hanging upside down on the fence. “What are you doing?” she shouted again. She must have thought he was deaf, because she was always repeating her questions in a very loud voice. “Making a table,” he said. “Does your mom know you’re out here?” “No. I’m not supposed to get off the porch.” There was

  Chapter Thirteen Kyra was stuffed full. She usually didn’t eat so much, but she’d been more than a little disconcerted by that unexpected, sexy, surprising interlude in her kitchen with Dax, for which she’d been totally on board until she remembered all the people waiting for them to return. And then she’d come back to Dax’s cottage and reality had seeped in, and she didn’t know what that interlude had meant, or what a “moment” was, and she’d never been the type of girl who could politely nibble her way through stress. Nope, she was an all-in kind of eater. Now she could hardly breathe in a dress that had not been too tight only an hour or so before. No one showed any sign of going anywhere—they all seemed to enjoy a claustrophobic baked-burger-and-hot-dog barbecue—but Kyra decided it was time for her and Ruby to go. “So soon?” Wallace asked. “I’m working a brunch shift tomorrow,” Kyra said. That was the polite excuse. The real excuse, besides being on the verge of exploding, was that

  Chapter Fourteen The night went by in a whirl—the bistro was so crowded that people waiting in the bar area spilled into the dining area. It was one of Kyra’s most successful shifts yet—she made enough money that if she did have to miss work this week, it wouldn’t ruin her. That only strengthened her resolve to get on night shifts . . . which, she realized, was in direct opposition to her equally strong desire to be home with her daughter. But she couldn’t help thinking of what she’d be able to do for Ruby if she doubled or tripled her tips on a daily basis. She might even start saving for a house. Kyra was exhausted by the time the bistro closed for the evening, and drove home yawning most of the way. When she pulled into the drive, she noticed her front door was open and soft yellow light was spilling out of the screen door. She gathered her things, locked her car, and walked up to her cottage. As she climbed the porch steps, she could see Dax and Ruby at the kitchen table. What was

  Chapter Fifteen At half past three in the morning, Dax sprang up the steps of his cottage with more energy than was reasonable. Otto was lying outside the door, and he lifted his head as Dax approached. He did not, however, wag his tail as was his habit. “Don’t get your panties in a wad,” Dax said and opened the door. Otto slipped inside and halted just at the threshold so that Dax had to step over him. “Look, I know you don’t like it, but I’m entitled to be a man every now and again,” Dax said and bent down to scratch the dog’s head. Otto wasn’t buying it. He sashayed off in the direction of his dog bed. Dax we
nt into the kitchen for a glass of water. He was parched after that magnificent romp. He looked out his window at the tiny bit of light glowing through Kyra’s kitchen window. He’d left her in her bed, wearing a T-shirt and some thong panties that she’d pulled on at the last minute. Her hair was all over the place—thick, rich, black Greek hair. He didn’t know if she was actually

  Chapter Sixteen Megan yelled at Kyra twice in the course of her shift for not picking up food. Even Deenie was frustrated when Kyra dropped a ketchup bottle and it shattered all over the wait station. “What is the matter with you?” she asked as she wiped off her shoes. “I just bought these!” “I’m sorry,” Kyra said, fighting back invisible tears. She was sorry, so very sorry. She was sorry she’d dropped the ketchup and she was sorry she was a marginal mom at best. Deenie noticed Kyra’s despair as she threw the paper towel she’d used into the garbage. “What’s wrong?” “Just having a bad day,” Kyra said and avoided Deenie for the rest of the shift. She didn’t want to talk about it, not yet. If she did, she might collapse with grief and guilt and worry. Her tips were lousy, which came as no surprise, seeing as how she’d forgotten things, dropped things, left people waiting. She couldn’t focus—all she could think was that her daughter, her beautiful, spirited daughter, was probably growing a

  Chapter Seventeen It was amazing to Dax—a man who had eschewed society and women and life in general for the last year or so—how quickly he and Kyra came together and fit into each other’s lives. The few days following Jonathan’s birth were some of the best of his life. He could actually say that—they were the best of his life. He had a son. He had a girl. He had a coconut who made him smile every day, a feat he would have thought impossible just a few short weeks ago. For the first time in months, Dax forgot his heart was broken. Ashley was great about sending him pictures and texts about Jonathan. He hadn’t asked for that, and he truly appreciated it. He wanted to be there with his son in the worst way, and he went to visit as often as he could. But he had to finish the massive table he’d been working on for Wallace, and there was Otto to take care of. But when he wasn’t working on that table, he was staring at pictures of Jonathan or listening to the fanciful theories presented by R