How had all the things that used to be okay with her suddenly come to seem so shabby? Could she really have turned into a snob so quickly?
Clutching the plastic shopping bag in one hand, she dug through her purse for the keys to her apartment. When she opened the door, the home she’d known was gone, replaced by empty rooms and stacks of boxes. She didn’t even have a sofa to sit on. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered until she took one of the handful of pregnancy tests she’d bought and found out if her life had slipped its tracks.
She accepted that Luke loved her, but she doubted he’d be thrilled about becoming a daddy. Not when his relationship with his father had been so awful. And if he couldn’t handle a baby – oh God, what if she was having a baby – then there was no way for them to be together. She’d have to do it by herself.
Flipping on the light, she made her way down the hall to the bathroom. She sat on the closed lid of the toilet and pulled the first of the tests from the bag, wishing more than anything she had a friend to hold her hand through this. Well, maybe not more than anything. She’d rather not be taking the damn tests at all, but since she had to, it would have been nice to have someone she trusted to wait with her. She’d been so busy working; it had been since before she took over the business from her daddy that she’d had a close friend. Regardless of what happened in the next hour, she was going to do something about that. Even workaholic Luke had Eric.
She read the box, followed the directions and waited for the longest three minutes of her life, jumping when the alarm went off on her phone. Sucking in her breath, she screwed up her courage, looked down and saw the plus sign that changed everything.
IT WAS OPTIMISTIC to expect her to be home resting when he finally managed to get away from the office for the day, but he hadn’t expected to come home to an empty house. Her truck was still at the jobsite, so where the hell was she? She didn’t go back to Ashton Court. Sparks adored her, but the project manager had been worried enough to call Luke when she fainted, and he knew the older man wouldn’t have let her back on the site without at least sending Luke a text.
She might have taken a cab to the new Chestnut Street job, but he doubted it. The infuriating woman couldn’t sit still, but her tools were in her truck and there wasn’t anything she could do there without them. So where the hell was she? He hit the button for Jackson, his head of security, while he roamed the penthouse looking for a clue as to where she’d gone.
Jackson confirmed that no one, including Claire, had gone to the new job, and that she hadn’t called for a car. Of course, she hadn’t. For as many times as he’d offered and reminded her she could use his driver, she seemed determined not to take advantage of it. So that meant she’d either walked or taken a cab, but it didn’t get him any closer to figuring out where she’d gone. He poured himself a scotch and tried her number again, cursing under his breath when it went straight to her voicemail.
By the time dinner rolled around, he’d gone from being irritated to worried. If she’d gone shopping, which was unlikely to begin with, she should be home. He couldn’t sit and wait. Calling Jackson to let him know what was going on, Luke grabbed his keys and took the elevator down to the garage. If she’d gone back to her old place to look for something, she might have lost track of time. It didn’t seem likely, but it was the only place he had to start.
He made the short drive across town to her old place, wishing she didn’t feel the need to hang onto it. He understood why. He’d fucked up badly, and he understood it would take her a while to trust him completely again. If he kept chipping away, he’d get her to come around.
Pulling into the parking lot beside her building, he saw that the space marked with her apartment number was empty. He slid the Jag into the space reminding himself that is didn’t mean anything. He hadn’t expected there to be a car in her slot. An older couple was on their way out as he got to the door to the lobby, and he went through the door the man held for him. The lack of security made him scowl, but it wasn’t a fight worth having. She could keep the place for as long as she needed to feel safe, but she’d be sleeping at his place with him.
While the creaking elevator climbed to Claire’s floor, he tried to think of what he’d say when he saw her, but when the doors slid open, he still hadn’t gotten pastWhat the fuck were you thinking, running off without leaving a note. He was pretty sure that wasn’t going work the way he needed it to.
There was light coming from under her apartment door, and something in his chest loosened. She was there. He didn’t know why or what the fuck was going on, but at least he could stop worrying about where she was.He banged on the door with his fist, and then stood back so she’d be able to see him through the peephole. When she still didn’t answer, he banged harder. It didn’t matter to him if the neighbors found out what was happening. He wasn’t leaving without her.
By the third time, he was pounding loud enough; he thought the neighbors actually might show up. The light shifted under the door, and after another moment, Claire opened the door, peering out at him, her eyes red rimmed and shadowed.
“Claire, sweetheart what’s wrong? Has something happened?”
She didn’t answer him and every protective instinct he had went on high alert. Something had obviously hurt her. He was determined to find out what it was and fix it.
“Tell me what happened?” he said, taking her by the arms and moving her gently back into the apartment before following her. “Is it your father?”
The question seemed to snap her out of her daze. Her father was in a long term care facility dealing with late stage Alzheimer’s disease. He’d seen firsthand the pain it caused Claire when he didn’t remember who she was. They’d been so close. Luke couldn’t imagine losing someone you loved that way. Of course, until Claire, there hadn’t been anyone he loved.
She shook her head and he took her face in his hands, forcing her tear streaked face toward him. “Talk to me, Claire. You’ve been crying. Why?”
She turned away and he let her, not wanting to risk hurting her more than whatever else she was feeling.
“I don’t even know how to say it,” she said, her voice sounding thick and hoarse. Pulling away from him, she wrapped her arms protectively around her middle and icy cold fear filled his chest. She hadn’t been herself for weeks. At first he thought it was because she was still uncertain about things between them and the stress of the move, but her fainting shouldn’t be stress related. What if she was really sick and didn’t know how to tell him?
“Sweetheart, we’ll deal with whatever it is together,” he said, trying to sound sure while his stomach roiled in fear. “But you have to tell me.” He meant it. They’d deal with whatever it was together, even if the idea of her being sick scared him more than anything else ever had. He moved in front of her and waited for her to say the words he was afraid would change his life. “Say it.”
“I’m pregnant.”
