Page 10 of Knocked Up By The Mountain Man

Just because we're going to have a baby doesn't mean we have to have a relationship. It doesn't mean anything has to change.

He can move on with his life. Keep dating the woman I saw him with earlier. Keep living as though we never met.

I don't expect anything from him. Just like I learned not to expect anything from my dad.

I rack my brain trying to remember the name of the man I spoke with weeks ago when I booked my one-bedroom at the Wildwood Inn.

"I don't remember," I say honestly, because I can't remember anything these days, from my own phone number to my grandmother's famous chocolate chip cookie recipe. Pregnancy brain seems to have really sapped the life out of me.

It's not easy doing all of this alone.

“Once again, I'm very sorry,” the woman with the white hair says again. "I have a room for tomorrow, if that would help?”

"Sure," I sigh, because I have no other choice. Wildwood is a small town, and this is the only place to stay.

I don't know what I'll do for tonight. Maybe that diner's twenty-four hours, and they wouldn't mind if I snoozed in a booth.

The door behind me opens with a jingle, and I turn to see Jack striding inside.

"Everything all right?" he asks.

His deep voice reverberates through my rib cage.

"Uh, yeah," I lie.

"You sure?" he frowns.

The woman behind the counter speaks to Jack directly.

"Is this your friend, Jack?" she asks nicely. "I was just explaining to her that it seems like we've lost her reservation. I don't know if Brian just didn't enter it into the computer system or if our Wi-Fi is doing that thing again," she says, as though this is a frequent occurrence.

Jack doesn't miss a beat.

"It's okay. I have a guest room in my cabin. Alyssa can stay there."

"Oh, perfect!" the woman with the white hair exclaims. "Thank you, Jack! I didn't know what we were going to do otherwise! It’s a real mess.”

Neither of them seems to be waiting on my assent to this little plan.

I consider protesting because the idea of staying in the guest room in Jack's cabin seems like a terrible proposition. How am I supposed to think straight and get any sleep with him only a wall away?

I've seen his cabin before. I have faint memories of it, navigating it in the dark, tripping over furniture until falling into his massive, oversized bed and making love until our bodies collapsed in exhaustion.

Making a baby in the process, of course.

I didn't see the guest room, but it doesn't surprise me that he has one. The place was huge. I don't know what he does for a living to be able to afford such a picturesque place, but he clearly does very well for himself.

I begin to formulate some sort of protest, but Jack is already picking up my duffel bag, slinging it over one of his broad shoulders.

With his arm around my shoulder, he leads me back to his old blue truck that smells just like him.

Tingles travel down my spine.

And suddenly, I’ve gone mysteriously mute.

CHAPTER 6

JACK