Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set) - Page 138

Sinclair frowned. “You sure? You look…Scared? Upset?”

How about both, I thought.

I worked to force myself to appear normal, but the fear couldn’t be contained. “I’m pregnant,” I blurted like a madwoman.

Just then I heard movement and saw Brooke enter the main office area. Great. Just what I needed. Her eyes widened and she immediately turned and went back into her office.

Sinclair came around my desk, pulling a chair with her. “Did you just say you’re pregnant?”

I nodded, wondering how long I’d hold it together before I completely came apart.

Sinclair looked more intrigued than concerned. “Is Ryder the father?”

I nodded, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort to ask her if she thought I was sleeping around during my fake marriage.

She sat back. “I wondered if maybe something was going on, but I’m guessing this wasn’t planned?”

I pursed my lips and gave her an annoyed stare.

She held up her hands in surrender. “Hey, you can’t blame me for asking. You’re a planner. Things don’t happen to you unless you’ve willed them to existence.”

My tears fell. “Right? How did this happen? I was careful. Now what am I going to do? Ryder isn’t ready to be a father. He’s barely grown up himself.”

Sinclair stiffened. “Why would you say that?”

“He’s a bartender and wannabe musician. His house is a bachelor pad that needs so much work it might be easier to raze it and start from scratch.”

“Those things didn’t bother you when you slept with him.” There was a hint of anger and disapproval in her tone.

I recoiled. Sinclair and I didn’t always see eye-to-eye, but I’d never heard that tone from her toward me before. The time I really needed her support, it appeared I wasn’t going to get it. Then again, since my father left, I’d pretty much been alone. That’s why I’d started taking the St. John’s Wort that got me into this situation. My father had been difficult and often unstable, but he’d loved me and despite his chaotic life, he’d been a sort of tether to the world for me. When he left, I realized I was alone. Everything I had and accomplished since then I’d done on my own. It looked like this pregnancy would be the same.

I wiped my tears and stood. “I need the rest of the day off.”

“You need to tell him,” Sinclair said, standing with me.

I glared at her. “Of course, I’ll tell him.” I wasn’t sure how, but I would. Then, because I was angry that she couldn’t be there for me I added. “I’m not like you. I won’t hide my child.”

She jerked back as if I’d slapped her. It was a mean thing for me to do, but I was too raw and upset to even attempt to control the cyclone of feelings whirling around inside me. I grabbed my purse and left the office.

19

Ryder

I shut the oven after checking the lasagna. I hoped the way to a woman’s heart was like a man’s; through her stomach. Over the last month, I’d tried to feed Trina well. Surely, she wouldn’t want to go back to take-out and microwave dinners after my excellent home-cooked meals.

The front door opened. I checked my watch, noting it was early for Trina to be home. I waited for her to join me in the kitchen, but then I heard a door shut down the hall. Usually she greeted me, but maybe she’d had a bad day, so I gave her a minute. I was getting ready to check on her when I heard the water for the tub running. She’d never done that before, so I decided she probably was in a mood and needed some time. I left her alone as I finished making the salad and shoved it in the fridge.

I poured some wine for each of us and decided to check on her after all. It wasn’t like her not to say something when she got home. Even when she was mad about something at work, she usually said hi. One time, she stormed in and dragged me to bed. That rough tumble would stick in my mind forever.

This time though, there was no hello. Instead she was drawing a bath. That was different.

I took the wine, holding both glasses by the stems in one hand, and heading to the bathroom. I knocked softly on the door. “Trina?”

There was no answer.

I tried the handle, but it was locked. I cursed myself for fixing the lock on the bathroom door after she’d had a snit about no locks in my house worked. “Trina, baby. Are you all right?”

I heard a growl. I straightened, surprised by it. Something was really wrong.

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