All I Want (A Farmers' Market Story) by Nicole Helm Page B

than just get to know him . Hell, she could agree to marry him.
    It was that reminder that had her stepping back and managing a wobbly smile. “Better than a handshake,” she said, realizing she’d taken him so by surprise that he still had his arm outstretched.
    “I suppose it is,” he said, his voice low, maybe a little rusty.
    One hundred percent lethal. Heat pooled in her belly. The belly in which you are growing his child because you fell off the wagon that hard.
    Right. Priorities. Focus.
    “Good night, Charlie,” she managed, sounding only slightly strangled.
    “Good night, Meg,” he returned. For a second he still stood there, though he’d finally lowered his arm. Then he simply turned and opened her front door. So stealthily she almost didn’t notice, he flipped the inside lock of the door before stepping outside and pulling it closed behind him.
    He’d locked the door for her. Because he thinks you aren’t capable of locking your own door.
    She scowled at the cynical voice inside her head. She’d need to learn to mute that a little bit.
    Right after she dealt with the whole bad-idea lust issue. Because between his all too effective flirting and that little moment with her lips on his skin, damn it , that was an issue .

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    C HARLIE WAS UP at the crack of dawn. As an adult, he’d slowly and consciously rid himself of the ingrained habit of waking with the sun.
    But whenever he spent the night at his parents’, he couldn’t fight the native conditioning. While most days it caused him to be sweary and irritable until he’d had his coffee, today he got right out of bed.
    Because he had things to do today. He had a plan, and he had no doubt that on the other side of New Benton, Meg was already up and milking goats.
    He needed to get a better handle on her day. On why the goats. A better handle on her and her life. She’d offered pieces of herself last night, but it had all felt superficial. All the little pieces of herself she’d shared paled in comparison to the moment when she’d leaned over and kissed his cheek. The heat, the light, the shimmer. The way it lodged inside of him like something big and important, when it was merely a friendly goodbye.
    He somehow had to manufacture more of that, well, more without the uncomfortable lust under it. Lust could wait. It could come later. When things were more steady under their feet.
    Sex would be something of a distraction from the point—the point being he needed to build a relationship that could sensibly move to marriage, ideally before the baby was born.
    Then his life could shift back onto the plan he’d always followed, and things could make sense again.
    Yes, he liked this idea so much better than wallowing and feeling like he didn’t know himself.
    Humming all the while, he showered and got dressed. Quick breakfast, and then he could head out to Meg’s without seeming too eager. But when he stepped into the kitchen, Dell and his little family were crowded in there with Mom and Dad.
    “Didn’t know there was a family breakfast.”
    “Chawie!” Lainey darted over to him, lifting her arms with the utmost certainty he’d catch her and lift her up.
    So he did exactly that, something in his chest going tight. Soon enough, he’d have this.
    His own.
    He braced himself for the slap of her pudgy hands as he settled her on his hip. He couldn’t help smiling when they landed on his cheeks with an audible whack .
    “Hey, Sugar Snap.”
    “Lainey, you have to stop hitting people in the face,” Mia said warily. She sat at the kitchen table, looking pale and miserable, Dell standing behind her rubbing at the tension in her shoulders.
    Charlie had to wonder if Meg would start feeling that bad. He didn’t remember Mia being this unwell when she’d been pregnant with Lainey, but Meg would certainly need some help if she could barely get out of bed in the morning.
    He wondered if she’d considered hiring anyone. She’d need help in