But his mother was already moving toward her, enveloping her in a welcoming hug that stiffened immediately. She pulled back, looked down at Mandy’s stomach, looked over at Damien in astonishment, met Mandy’s gaze.

Mandy smiled, though her heart was somewhere up around her nostrils. “Damien thought it should be a surprise.”

“Oh, it is.” His mother blinked, tears rapidly forming in her eyes. A shaky hand fluttered over Mandy’s stomach, touched briefly, then pulled back. “It’s a wonderful, wonderful surprise. When are you due?”

“October twenty-first,” Damien said, looking puffed up and proud. Which she knew he was.

She was, too. Proud that she was his wife. Proud that her daughter would have this man for a father.

His mother swiped at her eyes and sniffed, rapidly losing control of her emotions, which made Mandy’s heart warm. She had a bond with this woman. They both loved Damien and wanted to see him happy.

She hugged his mother again, overwhelmed with emotion. “I’m so pleased to meet you, Mrs. Sharpton.”

“Oh, please, honey, call me Rebecca.”

Mandy started and glanced over his mother’s shoulder at Damien. He winked at her.

Oh, damn, the man was enough to make her melt.

Just as predicted.

Here’s a sneak peek at
GET A CLUE
by Jill Shalvis,
available now from Brava…

Cooper’s deep blue eyes sparked, flamed, and the oddest thing happened to her. In spite of everything, a little ball of heat swirled low in her belly.

She had to be delirious. From the cold. From exhaustion. From her life sucking big-time. Awkwardly she hopped again, trying to pull her jeans back up, but they weren’t going anywhere. Then she made one too many hops and caught her boot heel on the hem of the jeans. Waving her arms wildly, she struggled for balance.

Cooper merely stepped forward and caught her.

Fine. He could help her and she could die of mortification later.

But he didn’t help. He put a hand to the middle of her chest and gave her a little push, making her fall gracelessly to the couch. Once again, the pink vibrator hit the floor and rolled to a stop at his feet.

They both stared at it for one beat before Breanne tried to bounce back up.

“Stay,” he commanded.

Oh, no. Hell, no. She scissored her legs, meaning to kick him, either in the chin or the nads, she didn’t care; she was going to take him down. Now.

But he just laughed low in his throat, and then again when she struggled to karate-chop him with her legs caught together by her own jeans. Laughed, as he crouched besides her, a big hand on either of her thighs and said, “Give in, Princess.”

“I never give in.”