What Price Paradise
All
his life Tate McCullom was taught to be responsible, and he learned
his lesson too well. He was the very model of what a respectable
man should be. Until the night he gets drunk and sleeps with a
woman he barely knows. Now, six weeks later, she's pregnant, alone,
and broke. Once again, he must take responsibility for his own
actions, and makes plans to marry his child's mother. There's
only one problem.how does he tell his fiancée?
Abby Grayson hasn't had an easy life. As the daughter of the
town whore, people either avoid her, or think she's like her mother.
For Abby, it's a struggle just to fill her belly and keep a roof
over her head. Loneliness, and a secret yearning for the man she
thought she'd never have, led her to spend the night with Tate.
But the last thing she needs is a baby when she can barely take
care of herself. Desperate, but too proud to ask for help, she
finally agrees to accept a job from Tate-the job of being his
wife. Now she has everything she's ever dreamed of; a family,
a nice home, friends, food on the table.unfortunately, only one
thing will gain her Tate's love-his realization that the night
he spend with her was no drunken accident. It was a last ditch
attempt to win the woman he really wanted.
Excerpt
Abby tied the sleeves of her sweater around her waist and stepped
out the door. Normally, she enjoyed the walk home after work.
The air of calm serenity that fell over the town in the wee hours
was soothing after the noise and crowds of the tavern. But tonight
nothing would soothe her.
Panic hit her as she thought of the tiny life that had taken
up residence inside her. What did she know about having a baby,
much less raising one? She could barely buy food for herself.
There was no way she could afford a doctor or medical bills. And
as soon as Pete discovered she was pregnant, she'd lose her job.
Admittedly, it wasn't much of a job, but at least the tips kept
a roof over her head.
She angled across the parking lot and turned north. There were
no sidewalks here. Delly's was on the very edge of town, too far
out for such amenities. She walked on the grassy verge, her sneakers
silent in the dew-dampened weeds. Deep in her own whirling thoughts,
she didn't hear the pickup until it slowed almost to a stop next
to her.
"Get in. I'll give you a ride home."
The voice sent a burst of anxiety through her. She glanced up
but kept going, fear making her heart pound against her ribs.
He couldn't possibly know. "Thanks, but I'd rather walk."
The truck shot ahead of her and pulled over, the red flare of
lights almost blinding her as he hit the brakes. The sound of
the door slamming behind him echoed across the empty street. She
hesitated, then increased her speed, intending to go right by
him. When she was even with the truck, he caught her arm. His
hand was warm, his grip firm and determined. The speed of her
heartbeat increased another notch.
"Abby, we need to talk."
"There's nothing to talk about. Go home, Tate." She
pulled her arm loose and started walking again, praying he'd just
go.
He fell into step next to her. "You're pregnant, aren't
you? You don't have a virus."
The air went out of her lungs as though she'd slammed into a
brick wall, and the blackness threatened again. She staggered
to a halt, fighting to draw in a breath. He knew. Dear God, he
hadn't believed her earlier excuse for being sick. Until he caught
her, lifted her, she hadn't realized she was falling. There was
a dizzying sense of motion, then she found herself propped up
on the seat of his truck.
"Abby?" His voice seemed to come from a long way off.
"Abby, if you don't answer me I'm taking you to the hospital."
That got her attention. No way could she pay a hospital bill.
She forced her eyes open. Tate leaned over her, blue eyes reflecting
concern. Dark hair spilled onto his forehead. Would the baby look
like him? Hysteria welled in her at the thought. Fighting it off
brought her back to her senses. "I'm okay." At least,
she would be if he'd just go away.
He shot her a look that said he didn't believe her, his eyes
narrowing to speculative slits. "No more arguments. I'm driving
you home." He climbed in next to her and started the motor.
Abby managed to slide across the seat until she was huddled tightly
against the door, as far from him as the space allowed. "It's
on Maple."
"Yeah, I remember." The words carried a cynical edge.
He glanced at her. "You weren't going to tell me, were you?"
Abby remained silent. There was no way he could know for sure.
He was only guessing.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice after a while?"
She turned from the window to look at him. "Assuming you're
right, that I am pregnant, what makes you think the baby is yours?
I'm the town whore, you know. Or hasn't anyone told you that yet?"