“Baby?” Whitney’s heart pounded, her gaze reflexively shooting down to Amelia’s stomach, hidden under the table. “What baby?”

Amelia’s eyebrows shot up. “Dad didn’t tell you? Karen’s pregnant.”

Her dejected tone caused Whitney to rein in the relief she felt at the fact that the baby wasn’t Amelia’s. But when her words registered, confusion filled her. “Really?”

“Yep.” Bitterness tainted Amelia’s tone.

Whitney had talked to Dan recently. Why hadn’t he told her? “How far along?”

“I don’t know. A couple of months, I think. He told me last week.”

On the counter, Whitney’s phone buzzed. Leaning over, she clicked on the screen.

It was a text from Jay.

Good morning.

Her lips curled upward at the corners as she typed back, stabbing at the screen of her phone with her index finger. She hadn’t mastered the skill of typing with her thumbs, something Amelia teased her about incessantly.

Good morning back.

“Is that your boyfriend?” Amelia asked, a teasing lilt in her tone.

Was it that obvious? Heat rose to Whitney’s skin. Looking up, she bit her lip. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Amelia giggled, turning to her friend. “My mom’s dating some guy she met at a bar.”

Lauren’s eyes widened.

Whitney bristled. “Not at a bar. Well, I mean, I was sitting at the bar, but it was in a restaurant.”

It was girls’ night. Whitney was sitting at the bar of the restaurant, waiting on Natalie, who’d been running a few minutes behind. She ordered a glass of zin and sipped it slowly, staring out the window. It had been raining that evening and the sky was a beautiful grayish blue, splatters of water creating a painting-like effect on the glass. Whitney had always loved stormy nights. Loved the edginess of the colors, the tension in the air, the crisp smell of the sky.

She’d been so lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t heard him approach, take the seat next to hers.

“Scotch on the rocks.” His voice was raspy and low, yet had a seductive quality to it. It piqued her curiosity, and she looked over. She was pleasantly surprised by what she saw. Strong jawline dotted with stubble, dark hair, a little unkempt and long, but not in slobby way. It was obvious that it had been intentionally styled like that. Dan had always kept his neatly shorn, no facial hair, except for on vacations when he’d let it grow out a bit. She remembered loving him like that. Made him look younger. More relaxed.

When the strange man smiled at her, she felt silly for staring.

“Scotch on the rocks,” she said, nodding toward the drink in his hand. “That’s always been my dad’s drink of choice.”

The corners of his mouth lifted. He propped an elbow on the bar. “Is that a good or bad thing?”