Jack's Surrender (Holiday Cove 5)

At least my baby would have a nice house to grow up in.

“Knock, knock.”

I jerked upright in my seat and my eyes flew toward the source of the smooth, masculine voice. I met Noah Scoville’s easy smile. “Catching a cat nap?” he asked.

“I wish,” I replied with a forced laugh. “If only those finance fairies would do these quarterly reports for me.”

Noah laughed and I relaxed my shoulders. “Now, I can’t speak for the fairies, but I can tell you that your boss wouldn’t mind if you didn’t get those turned in until Tuesday. After all, he wouldn’t want his favorite CPA spending her entire weekend locked in her office.” Noah leaned against the doorway, still smiling. “What do you say we go get a drink instead?”

To avoid staring at him, I darted my eyes back to the screens in front of me. Bad idea. The spreadsheets and budget documents littered my two computer monitors and just a glance at them was enough to make my eyes glaze over. Pregnancy brain was taking over and I couldn’t even combat it with a massive dose of caffeine. So unfair.

I released a slow, even breath and dragged my eyes back to Noah. “I might be willing to take you up on that offer.”

Of course, if caffeine was out, so was a huge glass of wine.

Again, unfair.

“Come on,” he said, hitching a thumb in the direction of the hallway. “Let’s be really bad and cut out early.”

I laughed. “You do realize it’s already past six o’clock?”

He furrowed his brows. “See? We’re sick. The only cure is to run fast and far!”

Still laughing, I reached over and started closing the windows on the desktop and then shut down the computer. Some updates started loading and I groaned. “Of course,” I growled as a confirmation box bopped up. “Looks like my computer isn’t interested in letting me get my happy hour on.”

Noah pushed off the doorway and came around to inspect. A wave of his aftershave and cologne washed over me as he leaned in close enough to take over the mouse. Damn, he smelled good. His hand nudged mine out of the way and the slight touch was enough to get my heart racing. The problem was that whenever Noah got that close, a wave of guilt quickly extinguished any excitement. My heart didn’t care that Jack had been gone for three months. That he’d chosen some life of adventure over building the future he’d promised to me. No, none of that mattered.

They say the heart wants what it wants, but I wished mine would wake up and remember the place beside me in bed was empty and cold. Jack wasn’t coming back. When was my undying sense of loyalty going to fade?

“I just click yes on these things until they go away,” Noah said, grinning over at me. His cheek was inches from mine, coated with a five o’clock—or, in this case, a six o’clock—shadow. He’d loosened his cobalt-blue tie and at some point in the day had shed the dark grey suit jacket I’d seen him wearing at our morning meeting.

“I’m sure Tad from IT loves that,” I countered before scooting my chair to the left and out of the danger zone. Noah knew I was single. Hell, everyone in the office knew. The tan lines on my ring finger didn’t help. Everyone loved a scandal and while no one—not even Noah—knew what had happened, my broken engagement was gossip fodder regardless. Not that anyone said anything to my face. But I’d heard the whispers. Seen the pitying looks.

I could only imagine how much worse it was going to get once I started showing. As it was, my stomach was easily concealed with loose-fitting tops and the black jacket I liked to wear around the office.

“There,” Noah said, straightening up.

The computer screens went black. “All right, but if Tad comes to me on Monday, asking what I clicked on, I’m sending him your way.”

“Fair enough.” Noah chuckled. “All right, let’s get out of here.”

I grabbed my jacket and turned away from Noah before shrugging into it. I buttoned up, absently wondering how much longer I’d be able to wear it. I’d purchased a brand-new wardrobe a few months ago, right after the breakup. Retail therapy. Ironically, none of the beautiful pieces were going to be wearable much longer.

All I could hope was I’d get my pre-pregnancy body back at some point in the future and they wouldn’t all waste away in the back of my closet. Then again, how much sense did it make to wear a three-hundred-dollar pantsuit when it was just going to end up covered in baby puke?

Noah picked a small bar a few blocks from the office. A quiet little spot without the flash and drama of some of the bars on the same street. I was grateful. Loud pounding music and sweaty dance floors had never been my scene, but especially not now. Apparently, they weren’t Noah’s thing either.