Eliza’s breathes even and she falls asleep clutching my hand.
Close to drifting off, a bolt of panic strikes me out of nowhere and I stiffen.
I didn’t use a condom.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
ELIZA
Carter is gone, his side of the bed crumpled and cold. Old insecurities come barreling in. Does he think it was a mistake sleeping together? Does he regret it?
The front door opens and I slide out of the bed. He’s in the middle of the small living room, with an unreadable expression. Before I say anything, he pulls a paper bag out of his jacket and hands it to me.
“Hi, what—” Words fail me when a small box falls in my palm. Plan B.
I told him I was on the pill. Jared kept postponing having kids, so I was always careful. I look at him, but he gives me nothing.
With shaking fingers, I take the pill out and stare at it in my palm.
“Swallow it.” His tone does not invite argument.
It goes down smoothly as shards of glass. Shock morphs into annoyance and I straighten my back and pull my shoulders back. “Do you want me to stick out my tongue?”
He’s struggling with his decision, so I drink the rest of the waterhe brought me.
Carter’s frame drops an inch and I try not to be offended by his request. Some fresh air will help. Some distance. Last night was a lot and this is not what I expected to happen the second I opened my eyes.
“I needed to be sure,” he says evenly, no trace of the tender man who touched me last night.
“Yeah, I get it. Poor girl, rich boy. Why would you trust me when I told you I’m on the pill?” I fumble through the drawers, rummaging for the clothes I came with. “You don’t want to be baby-trapped, or blackmailed, or whatever.”
I want to get away from him fast and keep my composure while I pull on jeans and shove my feet into my sneakers.
“Let me know when you’re ready to leave,” I tell him and nearly trip at the look on his face. This is a man in distress. Anguish and regret darken his features.
I’m too hurt to comfort him, and I close the door behind me without another word.
Linda wouldn’t let us leave before breakfast with the family and the scattered few who also stayed the night.
Carter materializes behind me and draws out my chair, his hand lingering over the back of my neck when I sit. A weird energy passes between us. Carter is stealing glances and I’m putting on a good front.
Everybody’s in good spirits and I focus on their conversations, doing my best to claw my way out of the barrel of old memories. Voices and faces from foster homes.Waste of space. You’re nothing. Nobody wants you.
Why did Carter’s Plan B bother me so much? It makes sense. It’s safest. He wanted to be sure. There’s a lot at stake for him. It still rubbed me the wrong way.
Carter must have noticed I spaced out because he brushes the inside of my arm, leaning closer. “Where’d you go?” he asks, trying to sound casual, but the crease in his forehead gives him away.
I don’t intend to make a scene or embarrass him in any way, so I blurt out the first thing I can come up with. “Oh, imagining having a puppy like your uncle’s.” My smile is tight, hoping he’ll leave it at that. It’s so easy to step into my old role. Pretending nothing is wrong.
His brows furrow, but instead of pressing on, he places another slice of French toast on my plate and refills my glass with fresh juice, making his family chuckle and my cheeks bright red.
“Please come back for the Harvest Festival.” The youngest girl of the family bats her lashes at me. “We have a booth and a petting zoo and games,” she prattles on. I nod politely, not making promises. Carter’s going to be long gone by then.
Linda reaches over and takes my hand in a motherly gesture that rattles my heart. “Even if Carter is too busy in New York, we’d be happy to have you.”
It takes everything in me not to cry and she doesn’t comment on my teary eyes.
We spend two more hours with them, mostly them filling in Carter on thirty years’ worth of family lore. Kenneth insists I pick more than one thing from his barn, promising to drop them off at the cabin on one of his deliveries.
