“No time to dawdle,” Sophie announced. “Put down that yogurt immediately, Claire. There’s pie to be eaten.”
“And dumplings,” Trevor added with a grin.
“Not to mention fritters,” added Marcus helpfully.
Claire laughed. “When you put it that way…”
“So, what do you think of Marcus?” Sophie asked Claire when the two of them were finally alone. They were perusing the various wares on display at the flea market segment of the festival, munching on hot apple crisp as they went. Trevor and Marcus had been enlisted to carry pumpkins back to Sophie’s car for the autumnal display she was planning on creating. Claire had lost count of how many gourds, pumpkins, and ears of decorative corn her sister had purchased. Half the stand, it had seemed like.
“Well?” Sophie demanded around a spoonful of apple crisp.
Claire smiled, thinking of the friendship that had developed between them over the past few weeks. “I think he’s fantastic.”
Sophie gave her a look. “But?”
“But I don’t think it would be a good idea to start a relationship now, with the baby on the way if that’s what you’re thinking.” Claire paused to examine a quirky-looking ceramic rooster. “It’s a really awkward time to try to date someone. Besides, I don’t think he likes me that way.”
“Marcus is a great man, Claire,” Sophie pointed out. “He’s exactly what you need. You’ve been stuck with jerks for so long and you really deserve to be with someone who will appreciate you. Your baby deserves the same thing.”
Claire sighed. Her baby deserved a father who was open and loving, a father who wasn’t so wrapped up in his work that it took precedence over everything else. She wanted so desperately for Logan to become that man. But she just didn’t know if he was capable of it, not anymore.
“Logan and Garrett aren’t jerks,” she murmured. “Garrett and I just weren’t right for each other, and Logan and I, well, maybe we weren’t either. I really thought that things would work out for us.”
“No you’re not.” Sophie delivered a sisterly slap to Claire’s shoulder, startling her.
“What?”
“You’re not still thinking about making it work with Logan, are you?” Sophie demanded to know.
Claire hesitated for a telling moment.
“You are, aren’t you?” Her sister examined her shrewdly. “Claire, haven’t you learned anything from the last few weeks?”
Unfortunately, it would seem that she hadn’t. Because every part of her still yearned for Logan. If only he returned the sentiment. She knew having feelings for him was an exercise in futility but it didn’t stop her. And she knew that Sophie only had her best interests in mind, that everything she was saying was probably true. Logan was bad for her, she should move on, and it should be with a good man.
“Soph, Logan is the father of this baby.” She patted her ever-expanding belly. “Like it or not, we’re stuck together for at least the next eighteen years. I’d like to make the best of it.”
“I’ll agree that you should play nice with him,” Sophie allowed, picking up a piece of carnival glass from the table. “Keep everything amicable so that you don’t have to worry about ugly custody battles. But that doesn’t mean that you should try to get back together with him.”
“I’m not saying that I want to get back together with him.” Claire stuffed the last bite of her apple crisp into her mouth and swallowed it. “All I’m saying is that…oh, I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“Claire, think about what he’s been like ever since he found out you didn’t tell Mom and Dad that he was the baby’s father. You hurt his feelings once, and what does he do? He lashes out at you. Where has he been, other than showing up at a couple of doctor’s appointments? He doesn’t deserve you, and if you ask me, he doesn’t deserve this baby either.” Sophie sighed, shoving the paper bowl containing her apple crisp into Claire’s hands. “Hold this while I pay for this dish, will you?”
The owner of the stand, a petite woman Claire judged to be in her fifties, swooped down on them, smelling a sale. “Can I help you ladies with anything?” she asked, favoring them with a friendly smile.
Sophie nodded, holding the carnival glass out to the woman. “I’ll take this.”
“Excellent choice.” The woman beamed with approval. “I’ll wrap it up for you.”
“Great.” As the woman retreated to the rear end of a station wagon parked behind the stand to wrap the dish in some newspapers, Sophie turned her attention back to Claire. “Will you promise me that you’ll at least try to keep an open mind with Marcus?”
“He lives in New York, you know,” Claire said by way of distraction. “I don’t think that it would be possible for me to move there, not with Logan living in Philadelphia. It really doesn’t seem like it would work out.”
“Not good enough.” Sophie plopped her hands on her hips. “Trevor lived in New York too, remember? Now we live here, and he’s happier than he’s ever been.”
“That’s because you’re hopelessly in love,” Claire pointed out, unable to keep a slight twinge of bitterness from her voice. Had she ever been hopelessly in love? She had thought so, with Garrett, but she had come to realize that she had only told herself it was love. As far as her relationship with Logan was concerned, it certainly hadn’t been prompted by love. Mutual attraction—insanely powerful mutual attraction—had been the catalyst.
“And you’re in love with Logan?” Sophie asked skeptically.
“No,” Claire said hastily. “Of course not. But I’m not in love with anyone else either.”
“That’s because you’re not trying,” Sophie returned, sounding exasperated. “Really, Claire. You can be so stubborn sometimes.”
The woman returned, a white plastic bag in hand. “Here you go, my dear. All wrapped up so that it doesn’t break on the way home.”
Sophie exchanged some money for the bag, and the two began moving again, walking with the crowd.
Claire looked over at her sister. “Take your apple crisp.” She shoved the bowl back into Sophie’s hands. “I’m only stubborn when you meddle, you know.”
“I’m your sister. It’s my job to meddle. And what about your calling Trevor to have him look at my artwork behind my back?”
“That was different,” Claire defended herself. “I wanted you to be interested in your painting again.”
“You wanted me to be interested in Trevor too,” Sophie said knowingly. “And it worked. In fact, I’m grateful to you. If you hadn’t called him, we likely never would have seen each other again, let alone fallen in love. So you see, sisterly meddling can be a good thing.”
Claire was about to offer a rejoinder when a sharp, shocking pain sliced through her, radiating from her lower back through her abdomen. She stopped, pressing a hand there, as if to soak up the sensation with her palm. Sophie’s worried face hovered before her.
“Claire, what is it? Are you okay?”
“I don’t know.” The pain ebbed and she took a deep, relaxing breath. “I had a pain for a minute, but it’s fading now. Maybe it was a cramp.”
“A cramp?” Sophie squeezed her hand urgently. “What did it feel like?”
“It felt like a stabbing pain. Worse than a normal cramp, but I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Claire assured her.
“Maybe we should sit down somewhere,” Sophie suggested.
“Don’t be silly. I’m fine.” Claire waved her off, starting up again, following the crowd through the center of the flea market. “It was nothing.”
“If you’re sure.” Sophie followed her, frowning and clearly unconvinced.
“Of course I’m—” The pain cut off Claire’s words midsentence. It was more insistent this time, more pervasive, racking the lower portion of her body.
“That’s it,” Sophie said, sounding grim. “We’re taking you to the hospital.”
“No. I’m fine,” Claire protested. She didn’t want to even think the word hospital, let
alone go to one. If she ignored these pains, they would go away. Nothing was wrong. Nothing could be wrong. And she certainly wasn’t going into labor now, two months early.
Absolutely not.
“Claire, we’re going to the hospital.” Sophie gripped her arms, forcing her to stop walking forward. “Trust me. If it’s nothing, then we go home, but if there are complications, you’re in good hands.”
There couldn’t be any complications. It seemed beyond the realm of rational possibilities. Claire refused to think about it.
“Claire,” Sophie insisted, her tone serious and commanding, “we have to go to the hospital. Just trust me on this.”
Claire closed her eyes. God, Sophie was right. She could put the baby in jeopardy because she was being stubborn. “All right,” she whispered. “I’ll go.”
Reality began sinking into Claire’s bones. Something could be terribly wrong.
God, she had never been more frightened in her life. Sophie, Trevor and Marcus hovered in her room in the OB Triage ward, on the periphery of the staff who were monitoring the baby’s vital signs. Her doctor had been called. She had an IV delivering her medication designed to stop the contractions. There was nothing more Claire could do, and it made her feel more helpless than ever. She had seen the worry in everyone’s eyes, the chalk-white pallor of Sophie’s face as she gripped Claire’s hand. It could be too early for the baby. The words echoed like a sickening litany in her mind until they all ran together. Tooearlytooearlytooearly.
What would she do if something happened to her baby? The questions invaded her whirling thoughts, making her nauseated. Was something wrong with the baby? She wanted reassurance, comfort. She wanted Logan.
Logan.
She’d almost forgotten about him in all the tumult and confusion. Another contraction interrupted her thoughts, cutting through her abdomen and breaking her thoughts into tiny jagged shards. When it finally receded, she became aware that she was gripping Sophie’s hand so tightly that the tips of Sophie’s fingers had turned reddish purple.
“Soph, call Logan,” Claire managed through her oddly stiff lips.
Sophie frowned at her worriedly. “Are you sure you want him here, honey?”
It made sense that Sophie would ask her that question. She probably thought Claire wasn’t thinking clearly, and maybe she wasn’t. But Claire wanted Logan by her side. She’d never been more certain of anything in her life.
“I want him here,” she said firmly. “Please, call him.”
“If that’s what you want.” Sophie gave Claire’s hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it to rummage through her purse for her cell phone. “What’s his number?”
Claire recited it from memory, trying to calm herself down. She knew she was probably overreacting, that even if she went into labor today, the baby could still be fine, though premature and in need of a stay in the NICU. But she had done her research for this pregnancy, and she knew what NICU stays could entail. She wanted to avoid that for her baby at all costs.
Sophie closed her cell phone with a snap, drawing Claire’s attention back to her again. “He’ll be right over,” she said, casting a glance at Marcus and Trevor, who were looming like ineffectual shadows off to the side. “He sounded furious. Are you sure having him here is a good idea?”
Claire nodded. “I know what you’re thinking, but I want him here. Anyway, he has a right to be here.”
Trevor leaned over Sophie, lightly massaging her shoulders as he pinned Claire with a serious gaze. “Can I get you anything?”
“No.” She sent him a wan smile. “Thank you.”
Marcus shoved his hands into his pockets, looking frustrated. “Where the hell is your doctor? Do you want me to go ask them to page him again?”
“Actually, my doctor is a woman, and she’ll be here any minute, I’m sure,” Claire lied, trying to make him feel better. From the looks of him, he was worse off than she was. He really was such a dear man. But he wasn’t the man she wanted holding her, easing her fears. That man was Logan Monroe, for better or for worse.
And the way things were going, it seemed to be for worse.
Logan raced to the hospital in a blur, his head pounding, his stomach knotted with a cocktail of panic and worry. He didn’t recall stopping at traffic lights or stop signs, didn’t recall so much as glancing at his speedometer. He jogged the whole way to OB Triage, out of his mind with a gut-gripping fear. All he knew was that he had to see Claire, be by her side. Hundreds of questions slammed into him with the force of a big rig.
What if Claire lost the baby? What happened when a baby was born two months too early? What if he lost Claire? God, he could not contemplate the consequences of any of it.
He caught sight of Claire’s sister Sophie in animated conversation with two tall, dark-haired men. Logan recognized one of them as Sophie’s husband Trevor, but the other was anyone’s guess. Maybe a friend of the husband’s? But what on earth would he be doing here?
And where the hell was Claire?
Trying to cast the unease from his thoughts, Logan strode across the room, approaching the threesome. “Sophie, where’s Claire?” he asked without preamble, not really giving a damn about much else at this point, certainly not manners.
Claire’s sister turned, looking startled by his abrupt appearance. “She’s in an examination room with her doctor,” Sophie reported. “The baby’s heart rate has dropped and they’re afraid she’s going into preterm labor. We’re all waiting out here for word.”
Logan nodded, not about to let that stop him. “Which room is it? I’ll just go join her.”
“Don’t you think you should stay out here and let the doctor do her work?” The other man spoke up, raising Logan’s hackles immediately.
Logan shot him a glare. “Who the hell are you?”
His opponent stiffened. “Marcus. I’m a friend of Claire’s.”
A friend of Claire’s? Christ, Logan really didn’t like the sound of that. Or the way the bastard was trying to keep him away from Claire.
“Really?” He arched a brow. “I’m the father of Claire’s child. In other words, you lose.”
The bastard stepped forward, fists clenched. “I wasn’t aware that this was a game. Claire and the baby could be in danger, you know.”
The reminder was like a knife to his guts. “I know. That’s exactly why I’m here, so just stay the hell out of my way.”
Trevor cleared his throat, putting a restraining hand on the interloper’s shoulder. He leveled an even stare at Logan. “I think we should all just calm down.”
He tried to keep a lid on his growing anger. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I really need to get to Claire.”
Sophie spoke up, her blue eyes almost pitying. “I know which room she’s in. I’ll show you.”
Finally, a voice of reason.
“Thank you.” With a final, parting glare at the bastard, Logan followed Claire’s sister.
Claire was in one of the outer checkup rooms. The door was slightly ajar, so Logan slipped inside. The doctor was nowhere to be seen at the moment. Claire sat on a bed hooked to a bunch of monitors and an IV. She wore a standard blue-and-white hospital gown and her face was ashen with worry, but he’d never seen a more welcome sight.
“Logan.” Was it just his imagination, or did her eyes light up when she saw him?
Uncertainty flickered as he thought again of the jerk wringing his hands out in the waiting room. She’d already moved on, that much was clear. If her eyes lit up, it was with relief that the father of her child was here to help bear the load.
“Claire.” He crossed the room in a matter of nanoseconds, unable to keep himself from reaching out and taking one of her hands in his. It felt small, delicate, and ice cold. His pulse beat harder, pumping with fear. “What’s going on? Are you and the baby okay?”
“I’m not sure yet,” she murmured, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. Her gaze flicked over his shoulder. “They’ve given my something to
try to stop the labor, but it hasn’t seemed to work yet. Sophie, I think the doctor wants to keep me overnight. Could you run home and pack an overnight bag for me? And tell Trevor and Marcus to go home and try not to worry.”
Logan looked back at Claire’s sister. He’d been so absorbed in the sight of Claire that he’d forgotten Sophie had been directly behind him. She nodded and rushed forward to give Claire a hasty hug and kiss. “What do you want me to pack?”
“Just some clothing and a toothbrush,” Claire instructed. “I’ve been meaning to pack my overnight bag, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
“Don’t worry,” Sophie said softly. “I’ll take care of everything and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
When Sophie was gone, Logan focused on Claire again. “Why do they want to keep you overnight?” His heart caught in his throat. If anything happened to either Claire or their child, he didn’t know what he’d do.
“To monitor me,” she said, interrupting his grim thoughts. “I was having contractions, but the doctor says I’m not ready to go into labor yet. They’re doing everything they can to keep the baby where it belongs for now.”
Labor. Oh Christ. Just the word was enough to make him feel sick, lightheaded, as if he was about to pass out. And he wasn’t even the one who had to experience it firsthand.
“Ouch,” Claire said, scrunching up her nose.
He looked down and realized he’d been clasping her hand tightly. Too tightly. He released her and raked a hand through his already wildly disheveled hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay. I’m worried too.”
The urge to take her in his arms filtered over him strongly. She looked so small and helpless, lost in her tent of a hospital gown, eyes shimmering with a fear that matched his own. He loved her so desperately that it physically hurt whenever he saw her and knew that she was beyond his reach. She was seeing another man now. He might be the father of her child, but he had lost the right to reach out to her, to touch her, to comfort her as he wanted. She didn’t want that from him, probably never had.
Perfect Persuasion (Love's Second Chance Book 2) Page 20
