by York, Zoe
She fisted her hands into the bedding as a sob wracked her frame. Pull it together, Calhoun. This wasn’t in your master plan, either. As the wave of emotion ebbed, she hauled herself to a sitting position and reached for the laptop tucked neatly on her bedside table. She did her nightly check-in on her favourite message board, then opened a new tab. The cursor blinked at her, a taunting vertical line. What search words could she use, exactly? Liam+engineering+business+Toronto? As she started typing, the search engine helpfully suggested Liam Hemsworth. Wouldn’t that be nice. Maybe her Liam was a movie star, too.
Her Liam.
That was a phrase she needed to strike from her lexicon. Whatever co-parenting relationship she managed to sort out with the student, if he was interested in that, it would have to be one that ignored how their connection started. Ignored their night together, when he willingly and repeatedly made love to all of her body with all of his.
Evie’s hands flared over her laptop keyboard. Graduating. Maybe there would be photos…but that didn’t lead anywhere, either. She tried a few more things, but soon fatigue pushed the computer away. She had some time still.
Nine months, to be exact.
CHAPTER THREE
There were two realty offices in Wardham. Liam’s uncle didn’t recommend one over the other, and he figured the more time he spent on the main drag, the greater likelihood he might run into Evie, so he planned to visit both. After he did some property browsing, he was going to grab a coffee and take a stroll to look for her studio. Maybe catch a glimpse of her in workout wear.
Evie from Wardham. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind, but he hadn’t tried hard, either. Ever since that night, he’d wanted to make the drive, come and find her and ask her out on a second date. If she hadn’t disappeared from his condo in the middle of the night, and checked out of the hotel before he made it down to the waterfront, their second date might have been brunch.
But then he’d gone back to work at Hexwell, trading his crazy school schedule for an even crazier work schedule. He’d found it hardcore when he was a specialist, but leading the project management team was a whole different level of commitment. One he quickly discovered he didn’t like. The company had been good to him, giving him a leave of absence for his schooling, and employing him during his summer internship the previous year. He would have stuck it out for a while, for reasons of both loyalty and professionalism, but when another manager returned from maternity leave without a project to lead, he saw an opportunity and seized it. He wasn’t cut out for a hundred hour work week. He knew that by the midpoint of his MBA. He was enough of a professional to extricate himself diplomatically, and threw himself into making a small but meaningful contribution before he left. They made noises about a specialist role should he want to return, but he knew he was done.
He had a few months until the sale of his condo closed, and in that time, he was going to help his uncle with the farm, and figure out how he could make himself useful in Wardham.
And hopefully get laid.
Evie. She’d been an unexpected treat after his final exam. Sexy as hell and completely unaware of her appeal. Gorgeous in a shimmery top and jeans. Breathtaking out of them, stretched out on his bed, making a hell of a lot of noise as he made her come, again and again. And more than a little dirty, which he loved.
He loved it so much, he was getting hard just thinking about it. In the middle of a real estate office. Time to focus.
“So you’re looking for a duplex, maybe?”
He nodded as the agent returned to the round table with a handful of printed sheets. “Yep. Something I could maybe live in, but also get some rental income out of.”
“These are a few recent sales in the area, to give you an idea of the price range.” All dead cheap compared to Toronto. This plan might just work out. “I know that Terry Wolton is thinking of selling his triplex. It would probably go for twenty percent more than these properties, although a quick sale might save you some money.”
Liam slid his business card across the table. “If you hear any noises in that direction, give me a call. It’s a Toronto number for now, but I’ll be changing it soon and I’ll let you know when I do.”
“You’re moving to the area permanently, then?” Even this city boy could spot that curious gleam a mile away. It wouldn’t be long before the entire town was chattering about Ted’s nephew buying some property.
“That’s the plan.” After sliding the papers into his rucksack, and thanking the agent for her time, he hit the street. He was about to visit the next agency when he saw her, crossing the street a block ahead.
Evie’s long blond hair was up in a swingy ponytail on the top of her head, and she was, much to his delight, wearing tight black shorts that made her ass look fantastic and a bright orange tank top, snug all over. She looked like a woman on a mission, her slim legs scissoring quickly as she dashed away.
All thoughts of real estate fled his mind as he made the instantaneous decision to follow her. He glanced at his watch. It was mid-morning. She was probably between classes. He searched his brain. They’d talked about work in the most general of terms, but people didn’t exercise at half past ten in the morning, did they?
In the next block, he passed a grocery store, a bakery that smelled like lemons and espresso, and a consignment shop that had a sale table out front brimming with children’s toys. A flash of orange disappearing up ahead showed him where Evie’s studio was—a simple storefront with a purple sign in the window advertising Pilates classes. A quick perusal through the plate glass showed that she was alone inside.
Perfect. With a grin, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
“I’ll be right with you,” she murmured, her head down. She was writing what looked like a weekly schedule on a portable white board. He glanced around at the space. An empty easel at the end of the counter probably held the board when she wasn’t carefully printing on it. He stepped closer, intrigued at her alternating use of colours and the flower doodles she used to fill in blank spaces. She bit her lip in concentration, re-reading what she’d written, then straightened up and snapped the cap on the marker in her hand.
“Looks like a busy week of classes.”
She jerked her head toward him, noticing for the first time who was standing on the other side of the counter. The marker slipped from her hand, clattering loudly as it bounced off the board and skittered to the floor. All the colour drained from her face. Not exactly the reaction he was expecting.
“Liam.” His name came out in a strained whisper.
“Hi? Is this a bad time?” He was starting to doubt his recollection of their night together. Was he that awful? Had he somehow taken advantage of her?
“You’re here.” She pinched her lips together and shook her head, like she was trying to focus. “Why are you here?”
“Uhm.” He really wasn’t sure how his answer would land. “I thought I’d ask you out on a second date.”
A hysterical, watery laugh slipped out of her mouth before she clamped a hand over her face, shutting herself up.
“Evie—”
“What’s your last name?” She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. Her hand was shaking noticeably. What the hell was going on?
“McIntosh. Are you okay?” He took a step toward the counter and leaned against it. “You remember me, right?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“I was hoping for less panic, more enthusiasm. Is that a no on the second date?”
“I don’t think a date would be a good idea. But we should have coffee. How long are you in town?” Evie was talking a mile a minute now, not quite making eye contact with him. “Do you have a phone number and address I could have, as well?”
“Sure…can I ask why?” He reached for the paper, and she tossed the pen at him, as if accidentally touching him would be a nightmare. A second date was most definitely not on the horizon. Well, this might make his move to Wardham awkward, but maybe she was just
having a bad day. He jotted down his phone number, and after a beat, added Ted’s phone number. “That’s my cell and this is the number where I’m staying for now. I’m not sure of the exact address. It’s a few roads out of town.”
Evie glanced at the paper and frowned. “I know that number.” She mouthed the digits silently, thinking. “That’s…that’s…”
“Do you know Ted?”
“DO I KNOW TED?” The hysteria was back. “How do you know Ted?”
“He’s my uncle.”
Her gaze flicked to the window, where two women were talking, but from their outfits, he guessed they were on their way into the studio. A tendon in her neck flexed as she pulled herself back to the conversation, lowering her voice to a harsh whisper. “I have a private session right now. Those are my clients. You need to leave.” She held up her hand. “Don’t go far.”
He hadn’t been planning on it. Even though she should have been freaking him out, his only thought was that something was seriously wrong and he wanted to help make it right. “I’m going to grab a coffee and take a walk. When’s your next break?”
“After these clients, I have a group class at noon. Then nothing until…” She took a deep breath. “Until I pick up my kids from school at three.”
He nodded in what he hoped was a cool, reassuring way. He knew she was a single mom. Did she not remember that they’d talked about that? “I’ll be back this afternoon, then.”
At quarter after one, he arrived back at the studio, prepared to find a locked door and a sign barring all Liams from the premises. Instead, he found a very nervous Evie pacing back and forth.
“I should apologize for being weird earlier,” she burst out as soon as he stepped inside. “I’m surprised you came back.”
He refrained from pointing out that she was still being weird. She was also beautiful, and with her back straight and her shoulders squared, she looked brave in the face of a fearsome foe. But since he couldn’t figure out why, it was weird. The best course of action would be silence. He nodded and took a careful step toward the counter.
“The thing is…” She swallowed hard and paused. “I tried to find you last week.”
“But you didn’t know my last name.” He offered a gentle smile. “Now you do. And two different ways to contact me. I’m very findable now.”
Her lips wobbled, like she was trying to return the smile but tears or anger was interfering with her facial muscles’ attempts to twitch upward.
He decided to be brave and leaned in. “I’d very much like for you to find me. I really enjoyed our night together.”
Liam wouldn’t call himself a player, exactly, but he had a decent track record with women. He knew how to be charming and offer a compliment that landed with sincerity. Never before had he made a woman burst into tears like Evie did now.
She spun on her heel and ran for the back of the room. Liam swore under his breath. He turned to the front door and flipped the lock, because he was quite certain whatever was going on didn’t need to be for public consumption. Then he moved to follow her, but the sign on the wall about outside shoes caught his attention. One glance at the smooth laminate flooring had him bent over, untying his laces. He didn’t want to piss her off for something legitimate, as well.
Are you sure this chick is worth this drama? The voice of rationality asked the obvious question, but the answer was definitely a resounding yes. Whatever her deal was, this wasn’t the Evie he met six weeks earlier. This woman was under incredible stress, and he was a part of it.
Six weeks. His pulse picked up, thudding loudly in his ears.
Running water obscured the sound of Evie’s sniffling. He found her in the bathroom, patting her face with a towel.
“Evie?”
She glanced at his reflection in the mirror.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?”
She shook her head. No.
“Is there something going on?”
A nod. Despite the summer heat, her face was pale and drawn. Still gorgeous. Fuck me.
“If I take a wild guess, will you be mad if I’m wrong?”
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Just give me a minute. This is harder than I thought.”
The inkling that had dawned on him was looking more and more likely. Something hard and nasty twisted in his gut. She was gorgeous, and didn’t want anything to do with him.
And didn’t want him to have anything to do with her. Or her—
“Liam.” She was still whispering, and her voice took on a tone of desperation. “Why did you come here today?”
He was having trouble thinking straight, but that answer was easy. “I don’t think that matters, now.” He wanted to shake her, and punch himself, because they were both handling this pretty poorly. Then he wanted to kiss her, and tell her it was going to be okay, but he didn’t actually know that. When it came to this, he didn’t know much of anything.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in that position. His entire adult life, he’d been in a position of knowledge. An expert, confident in his ability to solve problems and provide solutions.
“How long are you staying at Ted’s?” Her voice was less shaky now, and after she cleared her throat, it was stronger again.
“A while.” She frowned in confusion, but he wasn’t sure elaborating at the moment would be helpful. Two hours ago, she hadn’t even known his last name. Sharing that he was moving to her small town would probably be the straw that broke her. No way to make that sound non-creepy. “Long enough to be around to talk.”
She nodded. Silence stretched between and around them. In the distance, a single church bell rang. Bottom of the hour. An hour and a half until she needed to pick up her kids. Time enough to rip off the band-aid and deal with the consequences.
“Evie, are you pregnant?” He braced himself for more waterworks, but none came, just a solemn nod and a wary side-eye glance as she turned to dump the towel she was holding in a laundry basket. Fuckity fuck. “And, am I…”
That didn’t land well. Cold as ice, she crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re the only person I’ve slept with in the last two years.”
He ducked his head, feeling like an ass. He’d known that. But they’d used condoms, for everything. He had a half-empty box in his suitcase that proved they’d been responsible. Flashbacks to grade eight health class thudded through his brain.
“I really did try to find you last week. This isn’t how I’d have elected to tell you.” She cleared her throat again. “You have a right to know, of course. But I won’t expect anything of you.”
White hot anger lanced from his core straight up his spine, and he grabbed her gaze with his own. Like hell he wasn’t going to be involved. “I have more rights than just to know.”
She bristled, but didn’t respond right away. Her lips bowed together, like she might be biting the inside of her lip on one side, and he wanted to reach out and touch her face. Rub his thumb against her bottom lip, and see if she made that happy little purring sound when she was sober. Right after he punched the wall. Yeah, his emotions were all over the place. He’d just been dealt a knock-out blow by fate, he should get a pass.
Not a pass to actually punch the wall, although for the first time in his life, he understood how that could happen.
“When would you…” He trailed off, glancing at her flat stomach, bracketed by her trim hips. No sign of anything yet, but it was probably too early. Whatever he’d been planning for the afternoon had just been replaced with prenatal research.
“I’m due in February.”
“And do you have doctor’s appointments lined up?”
She raised one eyebrow. “My prenatal care will be with a midwife, but yes, I’ll have regular appointments. Would you want to attend one?”
“I’ll be at all of them.”
“Hang on, some of those appointments have physical exams!”
Now it was his turn to cock a brow in her direction. She blushe
d, but it wasn’t cute and flirty. Damn. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but he was so far out on the ledge he didn’t know what the next right move was. Backing down wasn’t an option. “Nothing I haven’t seen up close and personal, but I can wait outside. Your body, your care. But—” the next words stuck in his throat, not because he didn’t want to say them, but rather the opposite. The realization that he wanted to say them very much struck him hard and swift. “Anything to do with my child? I’m involved.”
Her eyes widened, and one hand slid down her chest to rest protectively over her lower belly. Damn it again.
“Evie, I didn’t mean—”
“That’s probably enough talking for one day, don’t you think?”
Hardly. But he could back off for a day or two. “When can we meet again?”
“My sister’s arriving in town tomorrow night, and I’m going to be pretty busy with her engagement party this weekend—”
He held up his hand and she bit her lip. “Hang on. Claire from across the road…that’s your mother.” Well, hell. Now that he thought about it, there was an obvious resemblance.
Evie didn’t bother responding, just wrinkled her brow and shrugged, like she’d exhausted all of her conversational ability for the afternoon.
The next thing he had to say wouldn’t please her in the least, but he couldn’t very well avoid it. “She invited me to the party.”
“You can’t—” She spluttered out the first part of a command, and then gave up again.
Refusing to accompany his uncle to the party would bring up all sorts of questions, given that he’d already told Claire he looked forward to it. Maybe he could arrange to get thrown from a horse. “No one knows?”
“You, me, my midwife’s office.”
That admission pleased him in an unexpected way, and loosened some of the knots his guts had twisted into when he found out. It also reminded him that she’d been all alone with this information, and he’d just pushed her from simmering fear to full-blown panic. “We can keep it that way for as long as you want.”
