not to spend time alone with him, not to let conversation become really personal. It hadnât been as hard as sheâd have thought. Mostly in the office they talked business, exchanged ideas, looked over each otherâs preliminary sketches and made suggestions, offered solutions to jobsite problems. Lunch for Gray was usually fast food or a deli sandwich, snatched between city hall and their architectural office or a job site.
But today, heâd appeared earlier than she had expected him, and now stood in the doorway waiting.
âIf not now, when?â he asked with his usual good humor.
She saved her CADD drawing and closed out the program, then took her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk. Gray stood back to let her out the door, then flipped the sign to Closed.
âThe Pea Patch?â
âFine.â Perfect, in fact. The small vegetarian restaurant used only organic, healthful ingredients, exactly what a pregnant woman should be eating. Gray had probably taken to eating there with Charlotte.
He didnât say much during the short drive and found parking right in front. The main street of West Fork probably hadnât changed much since the 1950s, with false-fronted buildings and small, locally owned businesses. The Pea Patch was relatively new, of course, as was the antiques store beside it, but the barbershop and hardware store could have starred in a Norman Rockwell painting. One of Grayâs goals had been to maintain the old-fashioned atmosphere of downtown and keep people shopping here.
Moira ordered the dayâs special, a bowl of split-pea soup and a half sandwich, Gray a burrito. He glanced at her sidelong when she asked for a juice instead of the latte that had been her habit.
Once the waitress took the menus and left them alone, he contemplated Moira over the table. Gray was a handsome man with calm gray eyes and sun-streaked light brown hair. They had dated a time or two when they first met, then fell into friendship instead of romance. Gray wasnât the first or the last guy to see her as buddy material instead of potential girlfriend. In his case, she didnât regret it. Heâd become family to her, a lot more important thanthe college boyfriend with whom sheâd lost touch shortly after graduation.
âSomethingâs off with you,â he said bluntly. âOr maybe with us. Have I been unavailable when you needed to talk?â
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she shook her head.
âThen what, Moira?â His eyes were kind.
Her chest hurt. âOh, Gray.â
âWhat?â He leaned forward and reached for her hand.
âIâve been dreading telling you.â
âTelling me what?â His fingers tightened. âYouâre not leaving me, are you?â
Even in her misery, Moira giggled. âDo you know what that sounds like?â
A grin tugged at his mouth. âYeah, someone who knows Iâm married might wonder.â The smile faded and he repeated, âWhat, Moira?â
She had to tell him eventually. Now was as good a time as ever.
âIâm pregnant.â
He jerked. âPregnant?â
âJeez, tell the whole town, why donât you,â she said indignantly.
He looked around. âThereâs nobody close enough to hear.â He paused. âIs it a secret?â
âNo.â Damn it, she felt watery again. âI guess itâll be obvious anytime.â
âHow far along?â
âUmâ¦three months.â
He frowned. âYouâve lost weight instead of gaining, havenât you?â
âDidnât Charlotte?â
âYouâre sick, too?â
Moira nodded. âWell, not sick. Justâ¦icky feeling. I donât dare do more than nibble at any one time.â
He was staring at her. âPregnant,â he repeated. His expression hardened. âWhoâs the father?â
She gazed steadily back. âNo one who is in the