Page 4 of The Plan

Ronnie fought the panic. She could just…leave…Value. Not even tell him. And to her shame, she thought about doing just that. Of going to Dallas, where Cam was. Telling him exactly what had happened, and that she needed to stay with him for a while. Like…about nineteen years or so, and would he mind being a stand-in daddy when his niece or nephew needed it?

Cam would make her a key that very day. He’d also make a beyond wonderful uncle and daddy someday.

But…she just couldn’t do that. Not yet.

She had to tell George.

She just sat there on her bed, one hand over her rolling stomach, as she came to the resolution.

She had to tell George. As soon as she could.

Like it or not…this was his baby, too. It would kill her if someone took her baby from her and kept him or her away. She’d seen far too intimately what that did to a parent.

There was no way she could do that to George. She just couldn’t.

No matter what happened—she had to tell him the truth.

What happened next…she’d have to figure that out as it happened.

And hope the world didn’t descend into total chaos. George-style.

Damn it, what had she been thinking? Why him?

Couldn’t she have given her virginity to someone else? It would have made life incredibly less complicated.

George Hiller was the last man on earth Ronnie ever should have slept with.

A bit too late for regrets now.

She grabbed her purse. She…had someplace to be now.

3

George Hiller was standingoutside the clerk’s office, flipping through a thick file of documents like he had all the time in the world when Judge Holland Felner was almost finished for the day.

Hiller was damned hard to miss. Of the four attorneys in this town, Hiller was the one that got under his skin the most. Even that giant bastard Hudson Hannan, three or four years younger than Hiller and three inches taller and massive, didn’t intimidate Holland as much as Max and Gayle Hiller’s oldest son.

Holland forced himself to step forward. His voice was strained when he spoke. “Hiller.”

Hiller looked up slowly. He hesitated just long enough to be considered rude and disrespectful. “Judge Felner.”

Holland hated the way Hiller said his name, like he was something distasteful. The man needed to be put in his place, but Holland kept that thought to himself. Life would do that soon enough. It always did. “You’re spending a lot of time in the clerk’s office.”

Hiller didn’t move, didn’t smile. His expression darkened. “Clerk quit recently. Haven’t replaced her yet. Now I’m just looking…for…things.”

Holland’s gaze dropped to the stack of papers in Hiller’s hand. He could see the familiar case numbers printed in neat black ink along the top. Tolben’s case, sure as hell. He felt his stomach churn. “Seems to me that some things are better left alone.”

Holland knew what was coming next. If Hiller filed a motion for a new trial within the next two weeks—Holland would be up to his eyeballs in problems. There were still legal remedies a smart attorney could take. And this was one of the smartest he had ever battled against.

“I’m sure some people think that.” He tapped a finger against the folder. “But I’m not one of them.”

It was as good as a gauntlet thrown down between them. Holland wasn’t stupid.

Hiller was just getting started.

Holland forced a smile. Forced himself not to show exactly what he felt now. “You’ve always been persistent.”

Hiller tilted his head slightly. “I believe in seeing things through. Learning from my mistakes.”

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