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Marti picked at an invisible stain on her coat. “Fine. You’re right. I came to this death chamber to talk to you. Happy?”
Logan snickered. “Quite. Death chamber, you’re so dramatic.” He gripped her hands and helped her stand, while the cot creaked in protest.
She stretched her sore back, and the smirk on his face spread. For a man who had a lot of explaining to do, he looked way too pleased with himself. And the sooner he started talking, the better.
“Do you have a child?” she blurted.
Those perfect lips froze, mid-smile. “What?”
“Because if you do, I’d like to know why you thought that wasn’t an important piece of personal information I needed to know.”
He said nothing, staring down at her, eyes wide with shock.
“Oh, come on.” Marti huffed. “It’s not like it was hard to find. I saw a picture, with you and your pregnant fiancé online.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
LOGAN
A FIST PLUNGED BENEATH his ribcage.
His amusement at finding Marti here, looking for him evaporated in an instant. Wiping his palms over his pants, he swallowed and shifted his gaze away. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have with her, or anyone, for that matter. Not here, not now, not ever.
“No,” he answered simply, then backed away, putting some distance between himself and Marti, and the truth he felt wedged between them.
Stumbling slightly, Marti moved toward him on shaky legs, looking more like a newborn foal than a woman. She trailed after him as he made his way to the front of his booth. The crowds had thinned over the last thirty minutes in which he tended to her. There weren’t as many med students milling about, which meant fewer distractions from a conversation he most definitely did not want to have.
She caught up to him, grabbing his arm, her grip surprisingly strong for a woman who had just spent the last twenty minutes passed out from the sight of a little blood. If Logan’s stomach weren’t so tied up in knots, he’d enjoy the ridiculousness of the situation.
Her brows lowered over her stormy eyes. “What happened then? The picture . . .”
“It wasn’t mine,” he said, his tone brusque. Only he thought it was. Right up until he read the autopsy report months later and realized it was impossible.
He dragged a hand over his face at the memory. How for months he mourned the loss of his child. And how he thought he had been responsible for her death the whole time. It shook his confidence, to say the least.
“Oh.” Marti’s expression clouded, and he could practically see the wheels spinning.
Somehow, her trying to piece together what might have happened seemed worse than simply telling her the truth.
He placed his hands on his hips, trying for casual, even though his insides squeezed. “Let me save you the effort. She cheated on me. With a fellow resident, no less. Lucky me found out after the fact. So there is no child, and certainly not a fiancé. Does that answer your questions?”
“Logan, I’m so sorry.” She squeezed his arm tighter and moved in front of him in an effort to meet his eyes, but he couldn’t look at her. There he was, claiming to be this confident, amazing doctor when he felt like the complete opposite. Maybe his feelings were unfounded, but he never got over the guilt and shock of having believed
he contributed to his own child’s death. Had it been any other situation, he could’ve coped. But he had gone against his better judgment and paid the price. If Hidden Heartbeat went national, it would mean easing his guilt, like maybe he’d done enough for failing Allison. Like he hadn’t been partly to blame for ruining her life.
He gazed over the top of her head, his jaw working, trying to quell the anger and pain spurred by the sudden inquisition.
“I just . . . I saw the pictures, and . . . my father made a choice when I was younger, one that affected me and hurt me, and I . . .” she trailed off.
“You thought I was doing the same. That I’m the kind of man that would pull a publicity stunt to push my own agenda, even if it hurt my kid. Or maybe you even thought I might be a cheater, that I was still with her mother. Or that I ditched the kid, and how would that look? If the infamous McBride fell for a deadbeat dad.” He shrugged, trying and failing to keep his anger at bay. “I guess I come off as that type.”
“No.” Marti closed her eyes, and he almost felt sorry for her. For once, she actually looked apologetic, which he found he hated. He’d rather have her anger than her pity.
“Okay, maybe I should have given you the benefit of the doubt, but I hardly know you,” she said.
Logan sighed, and his gaze softened with the sound. She was right. He had no reason to be so defensive with her.
“No, I don’t suppose you do.” He paused and glanced down at the hand still gripping his arm. It was warm and soft, and he realized with a jolt that he liked the way it felt.
