About That Night (27 page)

She blinked. Holy cow. She’d been right. Which wasn’t all that horrible, but she’d also hurt him. She hadn’t meant to, hadn’t realized she had the power to, but seeing his reaction... Well, she didn’t like knowing she could make him feel bad.

Liar
, her inner voice whispered. She’d known what she was doing by coming to Kane. Knew it would upset Clinton. Wasn’t that part of the reason she’d done it? To let him know, in no uncertain terms, that she was going to do what she pleased, whether he liked it or not?

“Kane is sexy, and he’s exactly the type of guy I’ve avoided most of my life,” she admitted. “Men like that, they’re heartbreak waiting to happen.”

Clinton edged closer, his voice a whisper. “And men like me?”

Men like him? There was no other man like him. Not to her. She’d never had this much of an attraction to a man last this long, never had it grow. “You’re the most dangerous of all,” she heard herself admit.

“I won’t hurt you, Ivy.” He touched her hair, his fingers trailing along her jawbone and down the side of her neck. “I would never take the baby from you.”

“You would,” she said, “if you thought I wasn’t a suitable mother, and honestly, I may not be. At least by your definition.”

And that was the rub. If she did something he didn’t like, if she acted in a way he deemed unacceptable, he’d swoop in with his team of high-priced attorneys.

“You’re never going to give me a real chance, are you?” he asked quietly.

She couldn’t. It was too dangerous. There was too much at stake. Her child. Her heart.

“If you need help, financial or otherwise,” he said, his voice all growly, his brows lowered, “you will come to me.”

“First of all,
Junior
,” she said, realizing she was backing up and she couldn’t do that. She had to stand her ground. “You are not the boss of me.” And, dear Lord, was that the sort of attitude she was going to have to put up with from her own kid someday? Worse, did she have to resort to acting like a teenager, just because she was out of sorts? “I do what I please. I would have thought you would have figured that out by now.”

“I’ve figured out that you’re incredibly stubborn,” he said. “That you’re so worried about someone taking advantage of you that you don’t trust anyone.”

The words stung. Possibly because they were close to the truth. “I trust people who have earned it. You are not on that list.”

“What do I have to do to get on it?” he asked, frustration clear in his tone. “What, Ivy? I’ve apologized for my reaction when you told me you were pregnant. It was just that—a reaction. I’m here, trying to get to know you, trying to work with you so we can come up with an agreement, some sort of relationship that works for the baby and for both of us, but you insist on throwing my mistakes in my face, pushing me away in every way you can.”

She went still because he was right, but she was too scared to admit it. Too scared to change. “We don’t need to have a relationship of any sort as far as I’m concerned.”

“Because you don’t want me to have anything to do with this baby. You want me to be some asshole who’s more than willing to just throw some money your way and leave you and the baby alone.” He looked and sounded frustrated, his mouth a thin line, his shoulders rigid. “But that’s not going to happen. I’m not going to walk away from my own child.”

But when he was tired of her, when he was done with her, he’d walk away from her. And she couldn’t risk getting close to a man, couldn’t risk giving him that much power over her. The power to break her heart.

“If you didn’t trust me to be a part of the baby’s life,” he asked, “if you didn’t want money, why did you tell me about the baby in the first place?”

“Because I didn’t want my child to grow up like I did, wondering who I came from, who my father is,” she admitted starkly. “I don’t even know his name. My mother refused to tell me. I was a mistake, something that ruined her life, took away all her choices, all her chances.”

“That’s bullshit,” Clinton snapped.

Ivy nodded. “I know that, but she had all the power. While I’m left wondering what happened between her and my father. Was he an asshole? Did she love him? Did he love her? What would he do if I found him now? I didn’t want my child to grow up with those questions. Good or bad, it will be better for the baby to know the truth.”

“Admit it,” Clinton said softly, “part of you wanted me to brush you off. That way, you wouldn’t have to deal with me and you could go on being completely independent and running things all on your own. Part of you hoped I’d want nothing to do with you or the baby.”

“You’re right. Can you blame me? We didn’t know each other. I told you because it was the right thing to do, but yes, I’d hoped you’d want nothing to do with us. That I could come back to Shady Grove knowing I’d done my best, that I’d done the right thing and leave it at that.”

She wasn’t proud of herself, but she couldn’t apologize for it. Couldn’t show any weakness.

Though she wished she could.

“Sometimes,” he said, “I wonder why I even bother.”

She winced, his quiet words feeling like a slap to the face. She wanted to say something but wasn’t sure what.

The door opened and Kane walked in, casual as you please, a key in one hand, papers in the other. He glanced between them. “You okay?” he asked Ivy.

Clinton’s lip curled, but he didn’t say anything, just watched her.

“I’m fine. Your brother and I just had a few things to discuss.”

“Well, now you’ve had your discussion,” Kane said, crossing to them. “I got the papers. You can fill them out now or at home and bring them back when you start. I’ll need you here Monday night by six.”

She felt Clinton watching her, waiting for her to make her choice, for her to say she’d changed her mind, that she didn’t want the job, after all. That she trusted him to help her. To be there for her. To take care of her and the baby.

But she needed to take care of herself. Couldn’t count on anyone else to do so for her.

So she nodded at Kane and held her hand out for the forms. “I’ll fill them out now, and I’ll be here tomorrow night.”

Clinton’s expression went stony, then he turned on his heel and walked out.

Leaving Ivy to wish she could call him back.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

F
RIDAY NIGHT
G
RACIE
was on the couch at Luke’s sister’s house, a tidy one-story ranch on the outskirts of town with high ceilings and a huge yard that looked into the woods. The TV was on, some show about people doing an obstacle course for superheroes or ninjas or something.

Luke came in from the hallway, his shirt wrinkled.

She smiled. “Rough time?”

They’d tried putting his nieces to bed together, but the girls had wanted Gracie to play with them some more. So they’d had to pretend that Gracie had left before Luke could get them settled down.

He flopped onto the couch next to her with such force, she actually bounced. He leaned his head against the back. “I thought I was going to have to drug their milk or something.”

“They’re just excited to have you hanging out with them.”

He snorted. Sent her a lazy grin that made her heart skip a beat. “They couldn’t care less about me with you being here. At least they didn’t act like little monsters.”

Gracie tucked her knee under her other leg. “Please. Compared to my brothers, your nieces are angels. If this is what it’s like to babysit girls, I’m going to suggest that if Molly wants to get pregnant again she does that gender-selection thing.”

He laughed. Sat up. “Thanks again for coming.”

“It was fun.” That was the truth. The girls were adorable and funny and, despite a few minor pout sessions and one crying jag that lasted twenty minutes, were well-behaved.

Luke leaned forward and grabbed the remote from the coffee table. “Want to watch a movie?”

When he settled back, he was closer, his muscular thigh just an inch from hers. She shifted slightly away, masking the move by pretending to stretch. “Okay. You sure your sister doesn’t mind if I’m here?”

His sister and brother-in-law had already been gone by the time Gracie had pulled up in her dad’s pickup.

“Nah, she’s cool with it.”

Which only proved what Gracie had been telling Molly the other day, what she’d been trying to convince herself of for the past week. She and Luke were friends. Just friends. If he had...feelings...for her, there was no way his sister would let him have her over, right? His parents had to be home for him to have a girl in the house.

Gracie’s parents weren’t that strict. They wanted her to make her own decisions. Her own mistakes.

Sometimes she wondered if it was laziness on their part. If they’d watched her more closely, she wouldn’t have made such a doozy of a mistake with Andrew.

Luke’s phone buzzed, and he took it out, glanced at the message. His expression darkened as he tossed the phone onto the table.

“Is everything all right?” Gracie asked.

“Yeah. It’s nothing.” He flipped through channels, seemed focused solely on the shows flashing by. “What do you want to watch?”

Before she could answer, his phone buzzed again, showing a picture of a smiling Kennedy.

Gracie’s throat tightened. “You can get that. If you want.”

He gave one quick shake of his head. “I don’t have anything to say to her.” He shut his phone off. Tried to smile, but it looked forced. He turned the TV off. “Want to sit out on the porch?”

“Sure,” she said as the house phone began to ring. And ring.

He jumped up and grabbed the receiver, looked at the caller ID and swore. “It’s Kennedy,” he said, staring at the still-ringing phone. “She must have talked to my mom and found out I was here.”

The phone rang twice more, then stopped. It was silent for thirty seconds, then rang again.

“You’d better answer it,” Gracie said gently. “Before it wakes up the girls.”

He nodded stiffly. Clicked a button and lifted it to his ear. “Hello?” He began to pace while, Gracie assumed, Kennedy spoke. Gracie wished he’d left the TV on. At least then she could pretend great interest in whatever was on. Without it, she was stuck on the couch while he walked around the living room, his head down, his knuckles white. “No.” More silence. “
No
. Do not come over, Kennedy. I mean it.”

Gracie’s head snapped up. Kennedy wanted to come over? Here? Now?

She watched him, wide-eyed, while he listened to whatever Kennedy was saying. “Because I don’t want to see you or talk to you.” More silence. “And I don’t want to hear what you have to say.” He laughed harshly. “You screwed my best friend,” he said flatly in a tone Gracie had never heard him use before. So angry. “As far as I’m concerned, we have nothing to say to each other. If you call here again, I’ll shut off the phone and my sister will get pissed. And don’t even think about coming over.” He looked at Gracie. Held her gaze. “I’m not alone.”

He hung up. Carefully replaced the phone. “You want a drink?” he asked, as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just told his ex-girlfriend he was with someone—a female someone, as even an idiot could infer.

“Uh, sure. Whatever you’re having is fine.”

One side of his mouth kicked up. “As long as it’s not milk, right?”

He remembered she was a vegan. For some stupid reason, that meant a lot to her. “Right.”

While he went into the kitchen, Gracie held her breath, but the phone remained silent. He came back a minute later with two glasses of iced tea. Handed her one, then set the other on the coffee table and retook his seat, once again sitting close to her.

“Sorry about that—” He gestured to the phone. “I don’t want to drag you into my drama.”

“It’s okay.” She sipped her drink, stared at the glass. “Has Kennedy tried to talk to you before this?”

“Yeah. She’s been bugging me for days, trying to get me to see her, saying she has some of my stuff—sweatshirts and things. That we should meet up to exchange them. I told her just to drop them off at my house, and I boxed up all the shit she gave me and left it on her back patio the other day.”

“If you want her to come over,” Gracie said softly, setting her drink down. “I can leave.”

His head whipped around. “No. I want you to stay. Unless...unless you want to go?”

He looked nervous. Sounded worried.

“I want to stay.” And wasn’t it her honesty that had gotten her into trouble with Andrew? She’d been too open. Had said what she thought, giving him everything she had, sharing her feelings with him, and he’d used them to his advantage.

But Luke wasn’t Andrew, she reminded herself. Luke was her friend. He liked spending time with her. Wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed of her.

Except they hadn’t actually been seen in public, a little voice reminded her. They’d snuck out of her house the other day so no one would see them. Even now they were alone at a house at the edge of town.

“That is,” she continued, worried she’d said too much, that he would see how much she was starting to like him, “if you want me to stay.”

“Yeah,” he said quickly. “You know I do.”

She didn’t. She didn’t know anything. Wasn’t good at these games, preferring honesty and openness. Wasn’t like other teenage girls who lived for drama, who wanted the heady rush of love, the heartbreak of hurt feelings and arguments. “I’m sorry Kennedy upset you,” she told him.

“I shouldn’t let her get to me.”

“It must be hard. You two were together for a long time.”

He sighed. Scooted back. “Since the beginning of sophomore year. I feel stupid, though, because now that I look back, especially the past year, I can see the signs. Her flirting with Drew, him watching her.”

“Things like that are often clear in hindsight.” Hadn’t she looked back and seen the signs with Andrew? How he’d treated her, how he hadn’t wanted to talk to her, hadn’t wanted to get to know her, even though she’d given him everything?

“That’s what sucks,” Luke said. “Looking back and seeing everything so clearly. I want to kick my own ass for not doing something about it, for not calling either of them on it, but especially for not saying stuff to her about all the crap she pulled during the time we were together. The head games she played, how she loved to try to make me jealous, how she’d sulk if she didn’t get her way, if I wasn’t showing her enough attention.”