Peyton frowned. ‘Yes. Of course.’ He might not have deserved it but for a few years, she’d been deliriously in love with Arnie.
‘How’d that work out for you?’
Peyton gasped at the streak of arrogance in his question. If her legs had been feeling remotely solid, she would have stood up and slapped his face. ‘Screw you,’ she snapped.
Blowing out a breath, Valentino sat in the chair beside her, rubbing his temple. ‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured, ‘That was uncalled for.’
Peyton snorted incredulously. ‘Ya think?’
‘Dio,’ he muttered, raking his hands through his hair. ‘I’m sorry.’ His voice was strained in obvious frustration. ‘I don’t have all the answers yet, Peyton. I’m as new to this information as you and I’m probably screwing it all up.’
She snorted again. ‘You’redefinitelyscrewing it up because marriage is not on the table, here.’ It was utterly…ridiculous.
‘Okay, well…’ He shrugged. ‘We can circle back to that, I’m just saying we can work through all this. There are options and solutions. We have time.’
Except the thought of going through it all again, of growing a baby inside, loving it, wanting it, was just too much for her to bear. Her head throbbed in unison with her heart. It was just all too overwhelming.
‘I can’t think straight any more,’ she murmured. ‘I have to get home.’ She pushed to her feet. ‘Mum will be wondering where I am.’
He nodded and she was thankful he didn’t try to stop her or press his case any more. ‘Will you tell them about the baby?’
Peyton frowned, her mind too full to think straight. ‘Yes.’
Eventually. Soon. But not tonight.
She shuffled her feet awkwardly for a moment, looking at Valentino. This news had no doubt thrown a huge spanner into the works for him too. And even though he’d just made the most preposterous suggestion she’d ever heard, she understood he was also rattled.
‘Goodnight,’ she said, turning to leave.
But his hand grabbed hers as she passed and despite everything that had just gone down, Peyton felt the familiar fizz that happened every time he touched her. She halted, their gazes meeting, his imploring. ‘You won’t do anything… rash, will you?’
Peyton’s first reaction was anger to his startling question. Did he seriously think she would terminate his baby in secret? Or that she’d go off riding a wild bronco or soak herself in a hot gin bath? But there was a plea in his gaze that reached right inside her gut, and she realised he was as vulnerable, as unsure, about all this as she was and that he had a lot at stake here, too.
‘Of course not,’ she assured. ‘I won’t do anything without talking to you first.’
‘Thank you,’ he whispered and released her hand.
10
After a fitful sleep, Peyton woke the next morning with the craving to eat everything in her pantry trumping the dire urge to empty her bladder. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d woken with biological matters taking such urgent precedence.
Usually she had to fight herself out of a thick shroud of grief that seemed to pounce in her sleep, steel herself to face the day for McKenzie’s sake. But this morning she was so hungry none of that registered.
She would have eaten the sheets had she been tied to the bed.
Even the yammering knowledge of her pregnancy that had kept her tossing and turning all night paled in comparison to her hunger. She felt like a grizzly bear coming awake after a long winter’s hibernation.
The doorbell rang as Peyton passed it and she checked her watch. Seven-thirty. A little early for her parents to be here. McKenzie, unusually, was still sound asleep. Peyton had checked on her twice already.
Opening the door, she was greeted by the sight of Valentino standing there with bloodshot eyes and his hair looking as if it had been raked rather than styled. It was on the tip of her tongueto tell him to leave – she was too hungry to go another round – when she spied the brown bakery bag under his arm.
‘Oh, God.’ She whisked the bag off him at the same time a waft of yeasty goodness reached her nose. Her mouth watered. ‘Come in,’ she ordered, turning on her heel as she opened the bag and the aroma of warm, freshly baked croissants hit her olfactory system.
Peyton was in the kitchen, tearing chunks off a croissant and stuffing them into her mouth, when Valentino joined her, lounging casually in her doorway. She wasn’t sure if it was the morning light or the sugar rush but despite his red eyes and dishevelled hair he looked pretty good there in his dark trousers and crisp white business shirt, sans tie and open at the throat.
‘Sit.’ She gestured to the stool opposite as she stuffed the last piece of her croissant into her mouth. She turned and retrieved some plates from the cupboard behind her and placed a croissant on each one, pushing his towards him.
She nodded at the side counter. ‘Coffee percolator if you want one.’
