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“You want to get out of here?” I wrap an arm around her shoulders.
She gives a sniffle and a nod. “Yes, please.”
I guide her out of the club.
“What are you even doing here tonight?” She looks up at me, her eyes shining.
“Looking for you.”
A pretty flush patches over her cheeks. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Her voice trembles. “So, you heard.”
“Yes.”
“How?” she asks.
I shrug. “Rumor mill.” I leave it at that.
I can’t seem to stop obsessing over the woman.
She shakes her head. “Dr. Thompson was the only one who knew besides me. And he’s gone now. I really don’t know how anyone else knew.”
“May he rest in peace.”
Dr. Thompson died peacefully in his sleep a few weeks ago. I don’t come all the way clean, telling her I’ve been keeping close tabs on her ever since the alleyway. That I got a phone call after the beloved doctor died. That one of my men found the results of a pregnancy test he gave in his office a few weeks before he died. It was Charlie’s, and it was positive. I knew instantly the baby was mine.
“Yes. He was a good man. Discreet. Or at least, so I thought.” She eyes me, trying to see if she can get me to spill my source. I’m a locked box. Sighing, she looks away. “Well, I don’t know how you know, but I’m sorry to tell you—”
“Why didn’t you tell me right away?” I interrupt.
My gruffness brings the tears back to her eyes. Her voice is a whisper. “There was nothing to tell.”
When she looks up at me, it’s with such utter heartache, I can’t speak for a moment, my tongue going numb in my mouth. She’s hurting. Really hurting. I’ve got to find out what’s going on with her.
“Come with me.” I grab her hand, ignoring the electricity I feel when our skin touches. My driver waits at the back door of my Suburban. Wordlessly he greets us, holding the door open. “Get in,” I say.
“Thank you.” She looks grateful as she enters the warm cab, sliding across the leather bench seat.
I get in, closing the door. My driver asks, “Where to?”
I say, “Her house.” I grab a tissue from the stocked armrest, handing it to her. She thanks me again, dabbing at the corners of her eyes. Turning my body toward hers, I wait for her to speak.
“There really isn’t much to tell…” Her quiet tears turn to little sobs.
The sound tears at my chest. I reach out, putting a heavy hand on her knee. “Take your time.”
“A few weeks after our… um…”
“After we had sex,” I offer. I’m trying to be sensitive here, but I can’t help that flicker of my cock at the memory…
Her words come out shaky and fast. “Yes, about eight weeks after we had sex, I noticed I missed my period. I didn’t think too much of it because my cycle is kind of long anyway and I’d been busy with the holidays and charities and such and sometimes when I get really stressed, I miss it. But then, about a week later I ordered fish tacos but when they came to the table I got this queasy feeling, so I took a test.”
“A pregnancy test.”
“Yes. A pregnancy test. It wasn’t a math test,” she adds with a touch of snark. “But there was a plus sign.”
