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happen. Neither did he.

      Evangeline was the best thing that had ever happened to him, enlivening him, encouraging him—but also encouraging him to keep hiding. To keep being a runaway.

      It was best to go their separate ways, like they’d always planned. Lucas needed him, and the sting of reentering his old life without Amber had mellowed. When he went home, Matt would disappear forever, and there’d be no more wild and crazy, totally-un-Matthew-like Venetian affairs. He’d have his identity back. A plan. Security.

      Evangeline would be free to fly off wherever she chose to go next, chasing the wind to the ends of the Earth.

      The thought should have made him happier.

      Venice was a transitory interlude, and now it was done. He only wished that truth eased the tightness in his lungs. And in his heart.

      If only....well, life didn’t give anyone the luxury of “if only.”

      When he picked up his phone to follow Evangeline back to the lower level, he saw another text from Lucas.

      I’m handling Richards. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.

       Eleven

      Evangeline stared at the half-packed suitcase blindly and gnawed on a fingernail. Not one of her previously manicured-within-an-inch-of-their-lives fingernails remained.

      Matt had gone for a walk. By himself. She didn’t blame him for dealing with reality in his own way. Venice, the temporary fix, was over. It just didn’t feel like it should be, and if things went the way she hoped, it wouldn’t have to be.

      She’d almost asked him to go to Monte Carlo. It had been right there on the tip of her tongue, but at the last moment, she couldn’t chance a “no,” not after he so cleverly steered her away from talking about it. He didn’t want to talk about it.

      But she had a hunch they’d be doing nothing but talking by the time he came back from his walk, because something huge and frightening and momentous might have happened and it sat right in the middle of her consciousness, screaming its presence. All she had to do was verify it.

      The doorbell chimed.

      Evangeline bolted downstairs and grabbed the package from the delivery guy, slammed the door in his face and only remembered she’d forgotten to tip him after she locked herself in the bathroom.

      Hands shaking, she pulled the pregnancy test from the brown wrapper. It was pretty much a formality. Icing on a cake that had already been baking for over a month, since the no-condom roof incident. The fatigue, the slight nausea, the way she sometimes couldn’t get enough of Matt’s hands on her overly sensitized body and other times, couldn’t stand for him to touch her at all—it meant something much more weighty than a need to move on.

      This morning, she’d done the math, then called the pharmacy the second Matt went for his walk. Bless him for his foresight in setting up a delivery account, though she doubted either of them could have envisioned it would prevent unwanted photographs of Eva buying a pregnancy test.

      Two minutes passed in a blur, and her life changed forever when the little plus sign appeared as expected.

      A sob bubbled from her throat, but it was half shaky excitement and half disbelief. Madam Wong’s prediction that she’d conceive had encompassed more than songs.

      A baby. She was going to have a baby. Matt’s baby.

      It would be a girl, with Matt’s beautiful blue eyes and her voice. Her heart fluttered. Of course. This baby could be the answer to her future. She couldn’t sing, but she could learn to be a mom.

      And Matt would be a dad, father to their baby. She’d be giving him the one thing Amber never could—the family he wanted. He’d forget about his wife in a heartbeat, like she never existed, and come with Evangeline to Monte Carlo.

      Before, she and Matt didn’t make sense long term. Now they did. The baby would clinch it. He’d never reject his own flesh and blood. She and Matt would be happy, deliriously in love, with the proof of Matt’s devotion strapped into a baby-carrier on his back.

      They’d both have a family. Together.

      Okay, she was getting ahead of herself. She had to tell him first. But there was no doubt this would be the catalyst to keep them together. No doubt he’d be thrilled. He’d drifted into her life for a reason—to heal, surely, but also to move on with the next phase of life.

      Evangeline was his next phase.

      When his key rattled in the lock, she jumped up from the couch to greet the father of her child. A powerful twist of emotion welled up, like she’d never felt before. She tried to emblazon it in her memory so she could get it into a song as soon as possible.

      “Hey,” he said. “I’m glad you’re still here. I got you something.”

      “Funny. I have something for you, too.” Did she sound giddy?

      His grin arrowed straight to her heart. “You do? What is it?”

      She shook her head. “You first.”

      Pulling a wrapped box from a bag, he dropped it into her cupped hands. “To remember me by.”

      Wait until she told him he’d already given her the greatest memento possible.

      The wrapping paper hit the floor. Jewelry. She flipped the hinged velvet lid and gasped.

      “Wow. That was not what I was expecting. I love it.”

      It was a white enameled Carnevale mask, painted with delicate brush strokes in a rainbow of colors. Teardrop diamonds spilled from the eyes. She pinned it to her shirt, over her heart.

      He grazed the mask with a fingertip and glanced up. “I’m glad. I wanted you to have something unusual but easily carried. Since you move around a lot.”

      That nearly knocked her to the floor. “Thanks. It means a lot that you understand me.”

      “I’m trying to.” He cocked his head. “What did you get me?”

      “My gift is unusual but easily carried, too. I hope you’ll like it as much.”

      She hadn’t wrapped hers. Fishing it from her pocket, she handed over the pregnancy test.

      “What is it?” He took it with a puzzled expression.

      Then his whole body stiffened. His expression, his eyes, everything went absolutely still.

      “You’re pregnant?” he asked hoarsely, gaze flitting back and forth between her and the plus sign. “The naps. Drinking orange juice like it’s going out of style. You’re pregnant.”

      “And you’re going to be a father.” She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Congratulations.”

      Matt sank onto the couch as if he hadn’t heard her, still staring at the piece of plastic in his hands. “So I assume this means you’re keeping it.”

      Horrified, she glared at him. “As if there was a possibility I might not? Of course I’m keeping it.”

      “Okay.” He blew out a breath and rubbed his forehead absently, not looking at her. “Okay. I just wanted to make sure I understood. That’s the right decision. But I’ll support you no matter what.”

      “I never had a doubt.”

      Matt wasn’t like her father. He was solid, capable. Not weak. Matt was a forever kind of guy and somehow, she’d been lucky enough to find him. A baby changed everything. It gave him more than enough reason to move on. With her.

      “It was that time on the roof. Wasn’t it? When we forgot the condoms.” He looked a little green around the edges. “You said it was the wrong time of the month.”

      “I

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