Baby Be Mine: Better Than Ever, #3

By Jill Westwood

Bridget Weber can't stand cocky Connor Harris who lives next door to her in his garish McMansion. Then a blizzard hits their town and the only one with a generator is none other than her least favorite neighbor. Will the power outage and frigid weather convince her to thaw the deep freeze that exists between them?

 

Connor is well aware that he's not the neighborhood favorite, but a winter storm provides the perfect opportunity to win everyone over. He doesn't expect to find himself so attracted to Bridget, the self-righteous woman next door, but close quarters and a bottle of tequila tend to heat things up on a cold winter night. He discovers that under her cool exterior is a fire that matches his own.

 

One night of winter passion leads to a spring surprise that will bring them together and tear them apart. 

 

Baby Be Mine is a surprise baby romance that will make you laugh and swoon. It is book three in the Better Than Ever later-in-life romance series and a perfect book choice for fans of Meghan Quinn, Lucy Score, Kate Canterbury, LB Dunbar, and Mariana Zapata. Love and laughter don't end at forty!

• Language: English
• Publisher: First Impressions
• Release date: Jul 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9781948516242

Jill Westwood

Jill Westwood is the author of romantic comedies featuring strong women and the sexy men who fall head-over-heels in love with them. She likes her books steamy, smart, and a little bit wacky. Her goal is always to make readers laugh and swoon. Jill has swum in a cenote in Mexico, summited a mountain in Nepal, and touched one of the standing stones in Wales. She now lives in North Carolina with her husband, two children, and the sweetest rescue dog in the world. A true Anglophile, she’s a Jane Austen devotee, tea drinker, and a fan of Tottenham Hotspurs.

Book preview

ONE

BRIDGET

Only one loaf of bread left on the grocery store shelf, and it wasn’t the kind I liked. Not surprising. Everyone in the Northeast was preparing for the first major snowstorm of the winter—stocking their pantries, replacing the batteries in their flashlights, and making sure their kids had all the necessary snow gear. Having worked late all week, I was a little behind on my preparations, but I wasn’t too concerned. I was a lifelong Long Island girl, and I’d survived many a winter storm in my forty-three years on earth.

Just as I put the bread into my shopping cart, someone spoke from behind me.

Got the last loaf then, did you?

There was no mistaking that deep voice with the Scottish brogue. Connor Harris was my extremely annoying, ridiculously good-looking next-door neighbor. Not that I found him attractive in any way. Someone who didn’t find his personality repulsive might call him a silver fox, but I called him a public nuisance with all of his shirtless exercising. Did he want to cause a traffic accident or something?

You can have it if you want it. Picking up the package of enriched white bread, I held it out to him. It’s not my usual type anyway.

No, thanks. I don’t eat American sandwich bread. No flavor.

I peered into his cart. Steaks, wine, potatoes, carrots, and green beans. It looked like he was having a dinner party, not preparing to endure several days with no power and below-freezing temperatures.

Are you having people over? I asked incredulously. He was the king of entertaining, so a dinner party on the eve of a major storm was entirely possible.

Connor looked down at his cart. No, I just want to ride out the storm in style. If I have to be locked inside, I might as well enjoy myself. By pasting on his flirty smile, he managed to make that explanation sound tawdry. Off to find something for dessert next.

Based on his flippancy about the impending blizzard, I couldn’t help wondering how long he’d been living in the states. He’d lived next door to me for over a year, but last winter we didn’t have the kind of storm that knocks out the power. Maybe he didn’t know how serious it could get. More likely, his arrogance and overconfidence extended to natural disasters.

You do realize there’s a decent chance the electricity will go out, and you’re not going to be able to cook?

Not a problem if you have a gas range and a grill. He winked at me. Not to mention a generator.

I tried not to resent that he wasn’t going to be miserable and freezing his ass off alongside the rest of us. My grill died at the end of the summer, and I hadn’t replaced it yet. More bad planning on my part.

I nodded briskly. Ah, I see. That sounds handy.

I was about out of small talk and hoped he’d move on. Men like Connor made me uncomfortable with all their testosterone and charm.

He leaned down, folding his arms and resting them on the handle of the shopping cart. You’re welcome to come over if we lose power. It’s going to get a bit chilly for you and your pup.

That’s kind of you, I said, my eyes narrowing ever-so slightly, but we’ll be fine. I’ve gotten used to weathering these storms on my own. I followed his gaze down to my shopping cart of sadness—chocolate milk, fluffy white bread, trail mix, and crunchy peanut butter. Basically, I’d taken the only options left on the shelves. I have other food at home.

Right. He sounded completely unconvinced. You know where I am if you need me.

And vice versa, I said sweetly.

His blue eyes twinkled with amusement, as if the thought of him needing my help was absurd. Sure. Take care, neighbor.

I waved him off, hoping I wouldn’t be interacting with him again until the great spring thaw. It would be a cold day in hell before I reduced myself to asking Connor Harris for shelter in a storm.

When I woke up in the night, the temperature in my house had dropped to teeth-chattering levels. My bedroom was pitch dark, nary a phone charger or clock light in sight. In other words, the power was out. It wasn’t a surprise that the snow, which had been predicted to turn into ice, had become too much for the power lines, but I hadn’t expected the electricity to go out quite this quickly. This didn’t bode well for the rest of the week, when the forecast held below freezing temperatures and another round of snow.

I tucked a blanket around my basset hound, Clover, and at my touch, she snuggled closer to me. I couldn’t help worrying that it would eventually get too cold for her in the house without electricity. My plan, if things got bad, was to go stay with friends or family, but it always felt like more of an imposition if you had to bring your dog along. Plus, I liked the idea of being one of those rugged, independent women who could weather a storm alone. Unfortunately, I lacked the survival skills to back up that fantasy.

Clover lifted her head and looked over at me.

Your paws are going to get cold during your morning constitutional, I warned her.

She put her chin down again, seemingly not excited at the prospect of thawing some snow by whizzing on it. I couldn’t blame her. The toilet seat was going to be chilly on my bum, and I didn’t relish splashing my face with freezing water from the tap. Still, the sun reflecting off the snow and ice made the yard glisten. I was excited to get outside and enjoy its pristine beauty and the silence.

After I dressed Clover in her plaid coat that made her look like a canine Sherlock Holmes and pushed her outside to do her business, she and I snuggled up in my bed. She slept deeply, kicking occasionally in her dreams of chasing rabbits, and I reread Sense and Sensibility for about the hundredth time, hoping to hear the whir of the HVAC system. My hopes were dashed, though, when my battery-powered radio informed me the power company predicted it would take four days or more to restore electricity everywhere on Long Island.

Bored and cold, I navigated down my icy front steps and crunched across the lawn to Kay and Howard’s house, making some of the first prints in the newly fallen snow with my insulated boots. Clover bounded alongside me on her leash, only her head visible above the snow line. Kay, dressed in a heavy navy-blue parka and a crocheted hat, took her time answering my knock at the door.

Good afternoon. How are you all faring? I asked.

She smiled and bent down to scratch Clover’s long, wet ears. Chilly but okay. We heated up chipped beef and toast in the fireplace. We’ll be alright if we don’t run out of wood. How about you?

Before I could answer, the whir of a snowblower started up behind me. I turned to see Connor in what looked like ski pants and a heavy fleece, trying to blow the snow off his front walkway.

Does he not realize that’s mostly ice? I yelled at Kay over the mind-numbing noise of the blower. Unless he had a heater attached to that thing, he wasn’t going to get anywhere quickly.

Before she could shriek a response, we watched in horror as Connor lost his balance and windmilled backward, busting his ass on the icy path. His gas-powered snow blower went silent.

Oh my, Kay said in her sweet grandmotherly tone.

Even though I knew it was wrong, I got the giggles and had to clap my hand over my mouth to hide them. At that very moment, Connor looked up and spotted us.

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to control my amusement, I took my hand away and called out, You okay?

Connor, looking more annoyed than embarrassed, got to his feet. I’m fine, he grumbled. And off he went, dragging his blower back to the garage.

Money can buy a lot of things, Kay said sagely, but not good sense.

Day one without power was cold and boring. Day two was much the same, but with the addition of hunger now that I was getting sick of peanut butter and jelly on white bread. By day three, I was considering trying to dig out my car and drive to Hollister and Jenna’s apartment building. My best friends lived one floor apart, both of them cohabiting with their significant others, and I knew they’d happily take me in. My car, currently encased in ice, was the main problem keeping me from following through with that scenario. After a feeble attempt at de-icing it, I gave up and decided I’d hunker down and hibernate until the power came back on.

How much longer could it be?

Power company says it could be two to three more days, my neighbor Dorothy, who lived on the other side of Connor, told me when I ran into her on day four of snowmageddon. Clover had been best friends with Dorothy’s maltipoo, who sadly passed away the previous spring.

They usually say it’ll take longer than it actually will, I said, sighing. That way, you’re happy with them when it comes on earlier than expected.

She rubbed the sleeves of her heavy wool coat. I sure hope so. I should have listened to Sean and gone to stay with him. Now I’m going to hear ‘I told you so, Mom.’ He always thinks he knows what’s best for me, but this time, he might have been right.

His power is probably out too, I said, watching Clover lick the snow at her feet. So staying there wouldn’t help you much.

Yes, but at least I’d have company.

Like Dorothy, I was regretting my decision to stay home alone. Even if Hollister and Jenna didn’t have power, it would have been fun to be together. I was an introvert, but even I didn’t need this much time alone with my thoughts. With my cell phone dead, there was no one to talk to except Clover, and she kept looking at me like she was supremely disappointed with her mother’s life choices.

Dorothy tipped up her nose and sniffed the air. What is that delicious smell?

I drew in a long breath and, sure enough, the fragrance of grilled steak wafted through my nostrils, making my mouth water. I knew immediately who was responsible.

It must be Connor. I ran into him at the grocery store. He said he’d be grilling steaks during the storm.

Oh. She hummed wistfully. That must be nice. He invited me in yesterday, and it was delightful to warm up for a few hours. He made me a hot cider with just a dash of whiskey.

I was shocked to hear this news. Dorothy and I had always been in sync when it came to our views about Connor. We were both kept up late at night when he entertained his rowdy friends on his back deck, not to mention the fact that they parked all over the cul-de-sac, right in front of our mailboxes and driveways. Our gardens had to endure the shadows cast by that looming monstrosity of a house, and then there was his dog, who was cute but always roaming loose, doing her business wherever she pleased. I didn’t blame the sweet gray pit bull for her behavior. It was her owner’s lack of good citizenship that was at issue.

What was his house like inside? I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

Like he has too much money and doesn’t know what to do with it. Dorothy’s eyes drifted somewhere beyond me. There’s Kay and Howard.

Our elderly neighbors moved cautiously across the cul-de-sac, Kay clinging to Howard’s arm. I prayed I wasn’t about to witness someone breaking a hip.

Hello there, Howard called out, his jaunty wool cap perched on his thinning hair and a plaid scarf wrapped loosely around his neck. He always looked like he was about to solve a crime in a small English village. Come to think of it, he and Clover would make quite a team of fictional crime stoppers.

Is this a neighborhood meeting? Kay asked, laughing lightly as she took in our newly formed huddle.

Just walking Clover, I said. In fact, I’d better get her home before her paws freeze off.

Do you smell something delicious? Kay asked.

It’s Connor, Dorothy said, sharing a glance with me. Well, not Connor himself. She chuckled at her own joke. Steak on his grill, we think.

We all looked over at the hulking modern house towering over our modest ranches that were built in the sixties. Homes like his were going up all over the neighborhood as older houses were torn down, but our little cul-de-sac had been the last holdout. Maybe if he hadn't been so loud and flashy, we wouldn’t have resented that he’d ruined the neighborhood aesthetic and ratcheted up our property taxes.

You think he’d be willing to share? Kay asked with a hopeful glint in her watery blue eyes. I cannot eat another meal of canned meat on crackers.

Before I could object to taking food from the enemy, Dorothy piped up with, I bet he would.

As if on cue, Connor’s dog, Bertie, ran into the front yard, charging toward Clover. Mutual butt-sniffing and tail-wagging ensued, distracting me from the fact that Connor was also striding his way over to us. He was probably only six feet, but he had a presence and a voice that made him seem much taller.

Hello, everyone, he boomed. I’m glad Bertie found you. I’ve got a grill full of steaks. Anyone hungry?

Oh, we don’t want to impose, Kay demurred, licking her lips like a hungry jackal.

But if you have extra, Howard added, far be it for us to turn it down.

Kay and Howard weren’t on as bad terms with Connor as Dorothy and I were, but I still felt like they were going over to the dark side without considering the consequences.

No, thank you, I said. I appreciate the offer, though. My stomach protested with a low growl I hoped no one else heard.

Connor smirked and nudged me with his elbow. Still working through that peanut butter, eh? How about you, Dorothy?

Dorothy gave me a guilty side-eye. I do enjoy a good piece of steak…

C’mon then, he said. They’re resting right now, and I’ve got baked potatoes as well.

I salivated as I pictured myself biting into a piece of steak chased by warm potatoes loaded with butter and chives.

Still time to change your mind, Connor said, as if he knew what I was thinking.

I was about to say no again, when I looked down into the eyes of one sad basset who’d had enough of hard kibble and a cold bed. If dogs could speak, she would have told me to get my ass inside that warm house and take her with me.

It would be nice to warm up a little. The admission pained me, but I owed it to my pup.

That’s the spirit. Connor tucked his arm through Dorothy’s. Let’s head into the house, and I’ll serve the food. We can open a bottle of wine and make an evening of it.

TWO

BRIDGET

Three hours later, it was dark outside and my neighbors were enjoying a second bottle of Shiraz. I’d decided to stay sober because, frankly, I didn’t relish the thought of having to get out of my bed three times during the night to pee in a freezing cold bathroom. At least I wasn’t cold at the moment. We sat around the enormous island in Connor’s kitchen, stuffing our faces with delicious food and chatting about nothing important. It felt amazing to finally feel warm down to my bones. Clover was snuggled up with Bertie in front of the fire, looking like she never planned on leaving. Going home to our house was going to be a hard sell.

The older folks were red-cheeked and chatty, regaling Connor and me with wacky stories of neighbors past. We heard about the couple who were swingers and tried to recruit Kay and Howard for a swap. Then there was the hoarder who had a garage full of Playboy magazines dating back to the sixties. Even I had been around long enough to remember him.

What do you think they’ll say about us when we’re gone? Connor asked me as I helped him clean up the paper plates and cups we’d used for dinner. The others had retired to the sitting area next to the kitchen, where there was a fireplace and ample seating.

That I was the weirdo who asked for my ashes to be sprinkled in the backyard with my dog’s?

He grimaced. That’s a morbid thought.

He turned away from me, and it was impossible not to notice that his gray sweatpants were doing nice things for his ass. He’d started the evening in a hoodie and sweatpants but, apparently, he’d warmed up with the wine because he’d stripped down to a white T-shirt that pulled tightly against the planes of his back and biceps. I was making detached observations only. Any woman would notice his ripped body, regardless of what they thought of his personality.

I don’t think it’s morbid, I said as he looked back at me. I love it here, and I’d be lucky to live a good long life in that house. I raised an eyebrow at him. You planning on moving anytime soon?

Don’t sound so hopeful, he shot back.

I know we haven’t been friendly, but it’s been nice of you to have us over this evening. I really appreciate it. I found I was genuinely warming up to Connor, although that could have been based on the fact that I could finally feel my fingertips again.

Would have invited you sooner if I thought you’d come, he said in a low tone, one that sounded almost conspiratorial.

His eyes locked with mine, and my cheeks weren’t the only part of my body heating up. Had he been wanting to get to know me better? Maybe I’d been reading his past behavior completely wrong.

I had to shake myself gently as a reminder that Connor was a player and this flirtation meant nothing. I’d seen plenty of women come and go from the house next door to mine. Hell, he’d made Dorothy blush earlier in the evening, telling her she had the body of a woman half her age. The man was full of it.

It’s snowing again! Dorothy called out from where she was standing in front of one of the windows looking into the backyard. Everything was oversized in Connor’s place—the windows, the paintings on the walls, the furniture, his ego. I couldn’t help wondering if he was compensating for a small penis. Although from the outline of the package inside those gray sweatpants, it didn’t appear that way. Not that I was looking.

The five of us stood and watched the snow falling in the yard. It was a beautiful sight, but I couldn’t be happy about it. I needed things to thaw out, not another layer of snow.

You should all stay with me tonight. Connor sounded like he was telling us instead of inviting us. I have two extra bedrooms, and I can sleep in my office or on the couch so someone can have my room.

Everyone else started speaking at once, asking questions or half-heartedly rejecting his offer. I was the only one staying silent.

I won’t take no for an answer, Connor said over the din. It’s silly for any of you to suffer inside a cold house when I have all this heated space.

The others gave in immediately, as they had with the steak, and retreated to their homes to pick up toothbrushes and pajamas. I stayed behind, waiting to privately and politely reject his offer.

I appreciate the invitation, but I’m not staying overnight.

He leaned back against the kitchen counter, one leg crossed over the other. Do we really need to do this song and dance again?

The hairs on my neck prickled to attention. Why did this man have to be so confrontational? And so freaking sexy?

What do you mean?

He took a sip of his wine, then leaned in toward me. You turned down the steaks, but then you came for dinner. You’ll turn down my offer for a warm bed, but you’ll end up here eventually. I think you know that’s true.

Wow. I drew away from him, pretending I hadn’t noticed how good he smelled when he moved closer to me. You are very…confident. There might be a power outage, but my circuits were currently overheating. I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, but I don’t plan to sleep in this house, much less in your bed.

A lot of things happen that people don’t plan on, he said, shrugging, at least in my experience. Usually, I find that those unplanned moments leave us with the best memories, if you’re willing to take some chances.

Is this your way of telling me you’re into some kinky stuff? I asked, making sure to sound unimpressed.

Connor chuckled and leaned back against the counter again. I meant, take a chance on us becoming friends. I didn’t entirely believe him, but it was hard to tell with this guy. In all seriousness, why don’t you admit that it’s fucking freezing in your house, and you would rather stay with a neighbor you intensely dislike than sleep in the bitter cold.

I’m fine in my house, and I don’t intensely dislike you.

Connor crossed his arms and stared at me. I’d always been a terrible liar.

Fine, I admitted. I haven’t always liked you, but that’s not why I don’t want to stay. Today has proved me wrong. You’re a generous host, and I really appreciated the meal.

You’re afraid you’ll owe me one? he asked, his brows furrowing.

No, I just like to sleep in my own bed.

My extremely chilly bed. Even I wasn’t buying that argument, but I wasn’t ready to have a sleepover with my annoying neighbor. And fine, maybe I was finding myself attracted to him in a way that was new and inconvenient, to say the least. If I stayed at his house, I could make a regrettable decision, one I’d have to live next door to for the foreseeable future. He certainly seemed open to that option from the way he was looking at me now, although he’d never appeared to like me very much either. With his pretty young things deterred by this inclement weather, he must have been willing to settle for sex with an average woman.

I walked over to Clover, who lazily opened her eyes to look up at me. Time to go, sweetheart. She closed her eyes again and snuggled closer to Bertie. Leaning down, I tugged on her collar. Come on. We’re going home.

In a rare display of disobedience, Clover became dead weight, refusing to move. Passive resistance was always her weapon of choice, but