As it turned out, Evan’s parents thought it was quite noble of him to choose to marry me and to help me raise my child. His dad told him that he was very proud of him for stepping up and taking on the role of surrogate father. Earl and Serena were both thrilled that they were going to be grandparents and insisted on buying all the nursery furniture as a gift for our new family.

Citing Serena’s health and my pregnancy, we chose to get married in a private ceremony at Evan’s parents’ garden. Only his parents and my brother were in attendance, though Serena catered dinner and ordered a big, white cake that would have fed ten times that many people.

Seated in first class on the way home from the honeymoon Evan had insisted we take, a tall, muscular flight attendant stopped beside my aisle seat and graced me with a lopsided grin. “Hello, my name is Jack. Can I get you anything to drink before we take off? Perhaps some champagne?” I was definitely sensing some flirty vibes from the man and reached over to link my fingers with my new husband’s, our joining like a form of armor against unwanted male attention.

Swiveling my face toward Evan’s, I asked, “Honey, do you want some champagne?”

Jack’s smile faltered a little when Evan gave me a sly little wink. “No, sweetheart. If you and our baby can’t drink, I won’t either.” Looking at our handsome flight attendant he said, “My wife and I will both have a sparkling water.”

Jack’s lips pressed into a flat line, but he rallied like a champ and plastered a bright smile on his face. “Certainly, sir. I’ll be right back with that.”

Tilting his face toward mine, Evan whispered, “Damn, Blaire. That’s one fine man, and I think he was into you. Are you sure you don’t want to join the Mile High Club?”

“Evan Cavanaugh,” I said with my best scandalized tone, “we’ve only been married two weeks, and you’re already scoping out men for me?”

I heard a gasp from across the aisle, and we turned to find a portly, older, blue-haired woman staring at us with lowered eyebrows and a mouth formed into a tight O. Evan and I burst into giggles, and I smacked his arm as Blue Hair let out a little huff of outrage and turned to hiss furiously to her husband. I had apparently spoken more loudly than I’d intended.

“Maybe we could share him,” Evan said in a loud whisper that I knew was meant for Blue Hair’s ears.

Her head snapped around, her face turning a shade of cranberry that clashed horribly with her hair. “Perverts,” she muttered through her teeth.

Evan winked cheekily at her until I elbowed him. “Behave. We don’t want to get kicked off this flight.”