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“I can’t either. And I can’t believe I fell for him and his lies all over again. And that’s not even the worst part… I’m pregnant. Oh, my God, Mi, what am I going to do?”

“You’re going to stay here as long as you need to. We’ll help you get back on your feet.”

“I can’t put you out. You’re about to have a baby of your own.”

“You’re not putting us out. We have plenty of room. Or if you’d rather have a place of your own, the tenants in my old house moved out last month. We’ve been working on getting it ready to rent out again. It’s yours if you want it.”

“You’re way too good to me. Thank you for not saying I told you so. Because you did, the day we got married.”

“I did?”

“You asked me if I was sure I wanted to marry him. At the time I didn’t have any other choice. I had to protect Poppy, but now… I need to stop making decisions out of desperation where men are concerned. I need to be alone for a while to figure things out. Thank you for your generous offer.”

“What about the baby and Poppy?”

“They’ll be with me.”

“What about their father? I’ve seen him with Poppy, and I can’t imagine he’ll give them up.”

“I really don’t care what he does or doesn’t do right now. Right now I just want this day to end. I don’t want to be in the day my life imploded anymore.”

“Come with me.” Mi took Lucy’s hand and led her into one of their guestrooms. “This will be your room as long as you need it. Why don’t you lie down and take a nap?”

“What about Poppy?”

Mi held Poppy to her. “She’ll be good practice for Lucas and me. Go on, get some rest. Things won’t seem so bleak when you wake up, I promise.”

“I doubt that. I’ll still be a single mother with another child on the way when I wake up.”

Mi helped her get into bed and pulled the covers over her. She held Poppy so Lucy could give her a kiss. “Now get some rest.”

*****

Cal had received some good news on a night that was far from good. Gleason had finally agreed to sell him his company. Sellers Investments was saved. He wasn’t sure what he’d said to Joel to get him to relent. He’d called to cancel dinner yet again. Joel had asked him if he needed anything, no doubt having heard all about his and Lucy’s scene on the side of the freeway. Too far from caring what happened next, Cal had pathetically joked that he needed Joel to sell him Gleason Investments. There was silence and then by some miracle Joel had agreed. Just like that.

Closeted in his darkened office, he was now halfway to drunk. All evening long he’d sat with his phone in his hand, bringing up Lucy’s number, then exiting the screen before placing the call. He knocked back the last swallow of whiskey and hurled the glass on an anguished roar. It hit the wall and shattered, raining shards across the carpet. That glass was fucking frustrating and deserved to die for being empty too goddamned soon. He’d clean it up in the morning. Right now he kind of liked the metaphor of the chunks of glass scattered across the floor like the pieces of his life—too sharp and painful to pick up and do anything with.

He’d been an idiot. Right from the start. Proposing marriage to her… He let out a merciless chuckle and took a swig straight from the whiskey bottle. What a fucking joke. He should’ve offered her a position in one of his other divisions. But he’d been selfish, wanting her back with everything in him, so he’d suggested marriage instead of what she’d really needed—a job and a loan to help her get back on her feet.

Then he’d gone about trying to bed her. What a clusterfuck that had been. Again he’d only thought of himself and what he wanted. She’d been broken and battered, but he was going to somehow fix her with orgasms and his magic cock. He’d helped her, all right, by taking the single greatest thing she’d given him besides their daughter—her trust—and shit all over it by using Felicia’s attraction to him to get her to confess.

What a self-centered asshole he was.

Her words and hollow laugh looped through his head over and over. She was pregnant. He wouldn’t get a second chance to experience any of the things he’d missed with Poppy like doctor appointments, ultrasounds, and seeing his child take its first steps.

And again he was only thinking of himself and how he was affected.

Because she was so proud and stubborn she’d made herself homeless, jobless, and penniless. She’d rather go through everything alone than take one single thing from him. He could hardly blame her. All he’d ever given her was pain, pain, and more pain. Anything he offered her would be a pale comparison to what she needed.

The whiskey wasn’t working fast enough. He put the bottle to his lips and tilted his head back to take a good, long draw off it. He set it down with a thunk and blinked. At first he wasn’t sure what he was seeing. The weak light from his desk lamp didn’t quite make it to the doorway. He’d thought for a moment it might be Lucy, and his heart jackhammered.

The proportions were all wrong. Not Lucy. Hazel? No, not Hazel.

“Hello, Cal.”

Motherfucking Felicia.

How had she gotten in? Oh, fuck, that’s right. He’d forgotten to change the gate code and tell Hazel he’d fired Felicia. Except he hadn’t fired her. Yet.

“You tried to trick me.” She closed the door and moved closer into the glow of the desk lamp.

She looked perfect just like she did every day she came to work. He’d hired her partly for her experience as an executive assistant and mainly for her looks. Not that he’d been interested in her. He’d built an image of himself that for some reason he’d felt the need to perpetuate. But now—staring at her past the barrel of her gun—those reasons seemed completely stupid and childish.

“Hands on the desk,” she ordered.

The alcohol and the shock had made him slow to react, too slow to press the silent alarm before he had to follow her command.

“Did you think I didn’t know what you were doing? I know you, Cal. I know you better than you know yourself. I know everything about you.”

“Not everything.”

“No?”

“No,” he answered. “And by the way, you’re fired.”

She tilted her head to one side and considered him for a moment. “You’re drunk.”

“Not drunk enough. What’s the gun for?”

“In case you do something stupid like you did in your office.” She wagged a finger at him. “That was naughty of you to tape our…encounter. Too bad your hysterical wife came in and ruined everything.” She took in the room. “Do you have cameras in here too?”

He couldn’t wrap his head around what she wanted or why she was here. She stood there steady-handed and calm, wanting what?

“Yes.”

“Are they on right now?” she asked.

“No.”

“That’s too bad.”

“What do you want, Felicia?”

“I want you, but I don’t think you want me, and that’s a problem. I didn’t like that game you tried to play with me in your office, pretending to be interested in me so you could get me to confess. Do you have any idea the things I’ve done for you? And that’s the way you thank me.” She shook her head and made a tsking sound. “You’re lucky I didn’t have my gun with me this afternoon.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m here to make sure
she’s
gone. You see, with her out of the way it’s just a matter of time before you love me as much as I love you. I love you so much. I don’t think you really understand how much. Or the things I’d do to have you. So I’m going to tie you up and take care of her. Permanently. And then I’m going to come back here and see what fun we can have with you tied up and the cameras on.”

“She’s not here.” And thank God for that. “She left me. Because of you.”

“She is one dumb bitch to give you up just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “What in the hell did you see in her?”

“Everything. I love her.”

She reached into the duffle bag strapped across her chest and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Put these on.” She tossed him the cuffs. He let them skid across the desk and onto the floor. “Pick them up!”

“No.”

She rushed forward and pointed the gun inches from his face. “I
said
to pick them up and put them on.”

He made his move, grabbing for the gun and pushing it left while twisting his body to the right. She landed on him, knocking him back in the chair. They hit the floor hard with her still on top. His head struck the floor with the brunt of both of their weight. The air rushed out of him, and light flashed at the back of his eyes. She used his momentary loss of control to her advantage, bringing her knee up to his groin. He shifted, and she caught him in the side of the thigh, barely missing his nuts.

She came at his face with her nails, raking them across his eyes and cheeks. He grasped her wrist. Grappling with her, he tried to get control of the gun. But she was too strong and he was too drunk.

BAM!

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Lucy lay there in the big comfy bed, her head pounding, her eyes itchy and swollen, praying for sleep. But all she did was miss Cal and his big body lying next to hers. She thought about never being held by him, or kissed by him, or loved by him ever again. The pain spread through her, filling every inch to the point where she physically ached. This time was worse than the last. This time she’d invested more and loved him more. He’d been everything, and now she had to make him nothing.

After tossing and turning for what felt like forever, she got up and went to the window. It was dark outside. She hadn’t thought it had been that long since she’d lain down. Poppy. She needed to go check on her baby girl. Creeping out into the hall, she wasn’t sure which room Mi could’ve put Poppy in. Maybe the nursery? The door was ajar, so she quietly pushed it open.

Sam was asleep on the daybed next to the crib where Poppy slept. Damn that man. She had no way to pay him, and he knew it. She’d fired him, but there he was still caring for and guarding her daughter. If there was one hero in all this mess, it was Sam. God bless him. He was more reliable and trustworthy than her own damn husband. And that was a sad state of affairs, if she trusted her nanny more than her child’s father.

She tiptoed back out of the room and headed toward the living room. The bluish light at the other end of the hall let her know that someone was up, watching TV. She hoped it was Mi, but as she came into the room those hopes were quickly dashed as she saw Lucas’s large frame on the sofa, backlit by the television. She hadn’t spent much time alone with the big man her friend had married and felt kind of awkward about disturbing him, so she turned to go back the way she’d come.

“Can’t sleep, Lucy?” Lucas asked.

How’d he know it was her?

“These days Mi moans with practically every step she takes.”

And psychic too? “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

He shifted to look at her. “You’re not. I’m not much of a sleeper. Maybe we can find an old movie to watch or something.”

“Sure.” She made her way over and curled up in an overstuffed chair next to the couch. “What’s on?”

“What do you like to watch?”

“I really don’t care.”

Lucas flicked through the channels slowly. “Let me know when something catches your eye.”

“Thanks for letting me stay here. I know we sort of crashed in on you. And thanks for letting Sam stay. He should’ve left. I fired him.”

“Why’d you fire him?”

“I can’t afford him.”

“But Cal—”

“I’m not taking anything from that man. So don’t even say it.”

“He takes care of what’s his, so you’re going to have a tough time making that stick.”

She let out a frustrated breath. “I swear to God if one more person tries to reason me into accepting so much as a stick of gum from that no good son of a bitch, I’m going to scream. He’s taken care of things all right. He’s taken great care to totally fuck up my life…again. Did Mi tell you that I’m pregnant?”

“She mentioned it. Congratulations? I’m sorry?”

“That pretty much covers it.”

“I’ve known Cal a long time—”

“I don’t need the sales pitch. I’ve already bought.”

Lucas laughed. “I get it. I won’t mention Cal again except to say that he’s texted me about eighty times to check in on you and Poppy. And I know you’re not going to like it, but you’re stuck with Sam. He’s been ordered not to leave you.”

“Ordered. Of all the arrogant— Wait. Go back a couple of channels.”

Lucas clicked back to a local news station.

“That’s my house.” She shook her head. “I mean Cal’s house. What in the hell is going on? Turn it up.”

“Local authorities were called to infamous Dallas businessman Cal Sellers’s home just after nine o’clock this evening when the silent alarm was triggered by a bullet piercing a lower floor window. Apparently Mr. Sellers’s former assistant, a Felicia McAdams who has been taken into police custody, broke into his home and shot at him. Along with the gun, McAdams brought a duffle bag in which she had rope, tape, handcuffs, and a taser—all of the tools required for a kidnapping. Mr. Sellers was home at the time of the break-in, and we’re told he was treated on the scene and released with minor injuries.

“The police have been mum on what the motive might be for this crime, and Mr. Sellers was unavailable for comment.” The picture changed to an aerial view of Cal and Lucy yelling at each other on the side of the freeway. “Earlier this afternoon Mr. Sellers and his wife, Lucy Sellers, were filmed having what looks like an argument on the shoulder of the I-35 freeway. Could the two incidents be related? We’ll have up-to-the-minute updates on this incident as information comes to us. Back to you in the studio.”

Lucas got up and pulled his cell phone out, then went into the other room. Lucy grabbed the remote to try to find more coverage on another channel. Felicia broke into their house? The reporter said Cal had been treated and released, but what if he wasn’t okay? What if “unavailable for comment” was code for lying bleeding in the hospital? If Felicia and Cal were having an affair, then why did she break in? Who had she planned on kidnapping? What in the hell was going on?

*****

The bullet smashed the window above Cal, setting off the security alarm. Glass rained down on them, lodging into his skin as he rolled Felicia and pinned her down. She fought hard, bucking underneath him. Security arrived and it took three of them to subdue her and cuff her hands behind her back with her own handcuffs. The rest was a blur of people coming in and out, poking at him with their questions. His head pounded from the fall to the floor, his face burned, and all he wanted was to see Lucy and Poppy to make sure they were okay. But the police wouldn’t let him make any phone calls.

After giving his side of the story to the police, he had to recite it all again for Lucas, who had seen the report on TV. Cal finally got a report on Lucy and Poppy. He’d been terrified that Felicia had gotten to them first before she’d come after him. He was dying to talk to Lucy, but that might only make things worse.

Lucas had said Lucy was okay, but he knew she wasn’t. None of them were.

He didn’t deserve Lucy. He didn’t deserve to have everything that came with being with her, including raising their children. He’d be the weekend dad, the Disneyland dad, always trying to make up for what he’d screwed up.

It didn’t matter what Lucy said. He would take care of her. He’d promised her that she and Poppy—and now the baby—would always have a safe place to live, and he meant to keep that promise. She would have Sam as long as she needed him. He’d buy her a new home if she wouldn’t take his. He’d be everything he could be to her from the outside. Always on the outside.

He’d never get to hold Lucy again. Never get to dance with her, make love to her, or just lie next to her. He’d never walk into a room and find her there or be greeted by her when he came home. He wouldn’t be a part of her pregnancy, and she likely wouldn’t want him there when she gave birth. He’d have to wait like a distant relative to find out if it was a boy or a girl. He wouldn’t get to decide on a name or hold their child while he or she was still warm from Lucy’s body.

He wouldn’t get his family back.

He’d just started up the stairs when the doorbell rang again. “Goddamned cops,” he mumbled. “Can’t you come—” The rest of the sentence died in his throat when he opened the door to find Lucy standing on his doorstep. He blinked. This had to be part of the head injury.

“Oh,” she breathed. “Your face.”

He put a hand up to his cheek then regretted it when it burned.

“Lucas said you weren’t hurt bad, but that looks very painful.”

“It burns.” He stared at her. Was she real?

“I wanted to see for myself that you were okay. They didn’t give very many details on TV, and Lucas gave me even less.” She glanced around at the doorway, the frame, the floor… “It’s late. I should probably go.”

“No!” He put a hand on her shoulder. She
was
real. He pulled his hand right back when she glared down at it. “I mean… Would you like to come in?”

She moved forward without comment. He backed up, giving her room. As soon as she was inside, he closed the door, afraid she’d flitter right back out like a butterfly.

She turned to him in the foyer, her hands clasped behind her back. He couldn’t stop looking at her. She didn’t have any makeup on, and her eyes were a little puffy, probably from crying, but to him she’d never been more beautiful.

“How’s Poppy?” he asked.

“Fine. Sam’s with her at Mi and Lucas’s.”

“That’s where you’re staying?”

“Lucas or Sam didn’t tell you?”

“No. Lucas only gave me the barest details, and all Sam would say was that you and Poppy were safe.”

“I’m surprised. I would’ve thought they’d report everything to you.”

“I think they’re almost as pissed at me as you are.”

“Yeah, well…”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out.

“Me too.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“I should’ve seen Felicia for what she was. But when I walked in on you with Felicia, all of those old feelings came back—the humiliation, the anger, the hurt. I couldn’t see past that to what was real, and I’m sorry for it.”

“You don’t have a damn thing to be sorry for. When you laid everything out to me in my office, I knew how it must’ve looked to you. Add in our history and… I’m sorry. Honest to God, I’m so sorry I put you through all that.”

She nodded. “We have some luck, don’t we?”

“The worst. Look at you, knocked up by a no-account, dick for brains like me. And look at me—I can’t stop fucking up the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Cal, what happened in your office and here tonight?”

“You want the short version or the long version?”

“I want your version.”

“Will you come in and sit down?” He waited for her response with the same nervous stomach he’d had when he first started knocking on her bedroom door.

At her nod, he exhaled the breath he’d been holding and led her into their living room like she was a guest. He even offered her a beverage when she was seated. His head throbbed in time with his heart, which beat so hard he thought it might break a rib.

He sat on the sofa next to her, close enough to touch but not to crowd. The whole thing reminded him of the night she’d come to him wet from the rain to tell him that she’d marry him. Only this time around there was more at stake. So much more.

He began with the magazine interview, which was when he’d first had suspicions about Felicia and took Lucy through everything that had happened to him since he’d last seen her earlier that afternoon. She listened without comment and didn’t ask any questions. When he ran out of words, he just stopped talking.

There was so much more to say, but he no longer trusted his verbal skills.
I want you
was too weak and easily misunderstood.
I love you
too trite and overused.
I need you
too small and ineffectual. He crossed his arms to keep from touching her and
showing
her all of the things that lived and burned deep inside him.

Lucy couldn’t believe what he’d been through tonight. She’d come so close to losing him. Too close. Since the beginning of their marriage she’d been the one in jeopardy. He’d been the one to protect her. And now when he’d needed her the most, she’d been curled up in a ball too afraid to look past what she’d seen to what she
knew
. Too scared to trust when all he’d given her was an open road to trust him. He’d
earned
her trust, and she’d refused to give it, holding on tight to it as though she needed for an escape hatch, a way out when things got too hard.

She was ashamed of herself. This man loved her and their daughter. He took care of them and cared for them. He was everything she wanted and needed. All she had to do was trust him.

“She could’ve killed you.” Saying it out loud made the backs of her eyes sting.

“I thought for a moment she might,” he said. “All the while I kept thanking God that you and Poppy weren’t here.”

“I wish I’d been here.”

“No, darlin’, you don’t. I didn’t have anything to lose when I grabbed for that gun. If you’d have been here, well, that would’ve complicated things considerably. I would’ve had
everything
to lose.”

“I never really listened to you when you said things like that to me. I heard the words, but I didn’t take them in. And you’ve backed up those words at every turn. I can’t think of one time where your words didn’t match your actions. If only I’d paid attention. If I’d only taken it all in. I
do
owe you an apology, Cal, for not believing you when you told me there was nothing between you and Felicia. Because I knew it. Deep inside I knew it.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I know you didn’t cheat on me. That you’ve never cheated on me during our marriage and that you never will cheat. I’m hoping you can forgive me for not trusting you. And I’m really hoping that you’re happy about this baby.” She took his hand and laid it across her belly. “Because I can’t have this baby without you, Cal Sellers. I just can’t.” She burst into tears, and before she knew it he had her wrapped up tight against him.