The Negotiator (Harbor City 1)

Sawyer raised his coffee mug in a commiserating salute. “Clover turned out to be the perfect fit and not just for the job. We connected right away. A few pineapple shakes and trips to the flea market later, and I was hooked.”

Her dad’s fork fell with a clank onto his plate, his eyes wide. His face had lost what little color it had. Fear twisting her lungs tight, Clover was out of her seat in seconds rushing to his side. She and her mom got there at the same time.

“Stop your fussing,” he said, waving them off as an embarrassed flush filled his cheeks. “I’m fine.”

Clover’s pulse pounded in her ears as she took a hard look at her dad, but he looked annoyed, not like he was about to have a heart attack for real. She let out a deep breath and slid back into her chair.

“I’ve gotta get this straight. You voluntarily went to the flea market? With Jane? On one of her DIY hell trips?” her dad said, his tone a mix of awe and horror. “And you didn’t run screaming?”

Sawyer nodded, just the right amount of bemused wonder on his face.

“Laura, darling, call off the dogs,” her dad said with a chuckle, sneaking a sip of his wife’s coffee before she could swipe the cup from his grip. “This man’s a goner.”

…

Was he a goner? Almost two hours into the drive back to Harbor City and Sawyer couldn’t shake the question.

He wasn’t, of course. That would be ridiculous. It was an unusual situation, and add to that the fact that the condom broke last night and of course it could appear that way, even if someone didn’t know all of the relevant facts. Like that the whole farce of an engagement was just another fun adventure for her and an efficient way for him to submarine Operation Marry Off Sawyer. Well, not the condom breaking part. That was just the bit of reality to smack both of them upside the heads.

Could she be pregnant? Yeah. Was she? Highly doubtful. It was just the once.

Said every high school-aged parent ever.

Okay, he was not going there.

Back to something he could control: this fake engagement/very real and very hot no-strings affair. Had Clover become a distraction? He snuck a peek at her out of the corner of his eye. She was winding a strand of hair around her finger while she gnawed her bottom lip raw and stared out the window at the outer suburbs of Harbor City. Her sunglasses were on, which kept him from seeing the look in her brown eyes, but he didn’t need that to know. She’d been curled up in the passenger seat the entire trip as if she could make herself small enough to disappear. The urge to reach out to her, take her hand at the very least, made him grip the steering wheel tighter because with every mile closer they got to home, the slower he drove. It was beginning to get obvious—especially considering the number of cars whipping around him in their rush to get to the city. He had a deal to prep, a trip to Singapore to get ready for, and yet here he was cruising down the highway at a brisk fifty-five miles per hour.

Was he distracted? Hell yes.

Which is exactly why they’d decided to end the fake engagement early. It made sense, it fit with his big-picture plan for Carlyle Enterprises and for him—it was the only thing that mattered. And the only reason why he was driving five miles under the speed limit instead of his regular fifteen over was because he was in a shitty rental that shook anytime

he took it over sixty.

Really.

It sure as hell wasn’t because the conversation was so stellar. Neither of them had said much of anything since piling into the rental and waving good-bye to her parents. Scanning the highway for something to start a conversation, his gaze hit a minivan with more stick figure kids than he could imagine on the back window, a cop pulling over someone going the opposite direction, and a billboard for a discount bridal shop. Yeah, a whole lotta nothing there. Still, he had to try something. They couldn’t end things like this, so he opened his mouth and let go with the first words that popped into his head.

“We could get married.”

He almost swerved off the road, correcting right as the wheels went over the rumble strips on the side of the highway. Where in the hell had that statement come from?

Clover smacked a palm down on the dashboard to brace herself and snorted. “Yeah right.”

“Why not?” he asked, returning the middle finger salute from the driver in the next lane.

She didn’t even turn to look at him, just curled her knees tighter to her chest. “You’re you and I’m me.”

“What does that mean?” His frustration made the question louder than he meant.

Now she did look at him, twisting in her seat and revealing the hard set to her jaw and the swollen redness of her bottom lip. “Tell me what you envision for our married life together.”

His mind went blank. He hadn’t been telling her parents a story at brunch. He’d never planned on getting married. Hudson was the ladies’ man. He was the boring Carlyle brother. The one who went to work. The one who focused on growing Carlyle Enterprises. The one who had absolutely no identity outside of the company—nor had he ever wanted one.

Her lips curled into a tight smile and she returned to her original position, staring out the passenger window. “That’s what I thought.”

Gripping the steering wheel tight enough that his knuckles turned white, he counted to twenty. Another set of cars passed them as his lungs tightened and his pulse began to race. “You might be pregnant.”

“And you think that is the proper foundation for building a life together?” she asked, her voice barely loud enough to be heard over the lawn mower engine making the car go. “A broken condom?”