18

Chapter 13

Chapter Eleven


Chapter Eleven

“LUC?”

He turned toward the familiar voice, swallowing back his annoyance.

Emily. She approached him on sensible pumps, looking like something out

of a Lands‟ End catalog with crisp khaki pants, a smart white blouse, and a

little red cardigan. The colors suited her pale complexion and dark hair.

She was stylishly accessorized, the look modest, understated. When she

smiled, the expression reached all the way to her hazel eyes. She really

was perfect in so many ways.

The smile he sent in return felt more like a grimace as he waved her

over.

Glancing at his watch, he was relieved to see the book signing and

cooking demonstration would end in another ten minutes.

Doing his best to meet and greet, pose for pictures, and answer fans‟

questions, he was conscious of Emily‟s presence just beyond his left

shoulder. He glanced back at her. Damn, she was wearing her purposeful

look.

When he‟d run out of books and time was more than up, he stood and

walked to the portable kitchen area and grabbed the microphone. “Thank

you, everyone, for coming. I appreciate the support. Have a great evening.”

After a hearty round of applause, people began to file out. A reporter

or two milled around, but store personnel escorted them out. Luc braced

himself and turned toward Emily.

Everything inside him recoiled. She was lovely, cultured, educated,

kind. She loved children, had broadly hinted that she‟d welcome a marriage

proposal, and wanted to start a family right away. Luc even had the ring in

his pocket, a simple two-carat teardrop-shaped diamond—her favorite,

according to her—on a thin gold band, just waiting for the right moment.

She was everything he should want. But he‟d been waiting for that

right moment for three weeks, and the ring was still tucked away in its box

in his suit coat.

He sighed, then closed the distance between them to kiss her cheek.

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“You look nice.” It wasn‟t her fault that he was dying to see another

woman in a sexy short skirt, garters, and a saucy attitude.

Damn! He‟d never see her again, and Luc knew he needed to get on

with his life. Today he‟d turned thirty-six. Tonight was as good as any to

start embracing his future. If he wanted to have children, he needed to try

starting his family soon. It could be a years-long process, but Emily, twentyeight and ready, would be supportive.

Luc felt guiltily relieved that having children with her wouldn‟t require

sex. She was lovely. And a wonderful person. He‟d feel desire for her . . .

someday. Maybe.

Emily‟s smile widened. “You look nice, too. And now I must take you to

dinner for your very happy birthday. Where should we go?”

Luc tried to muster enthusiasm for the evening. “What sounds good to

you?”

Slowly, her smile fell. “Another headache? Have you been to the

doctor yet?”

Since returning from Lafayette six weeks ago, he‟d fabricated

headaches to explain his lack of interest in their dates and his need to cut

evenings short. He hated lying to her. Emily deserved better. Either he

needed to actually commit to trying to build a future with her or walk away.

His heart voted for the latter. Logic asked him what the hell he‟d do

about tomorrow if he left Emily. Alyssa was gone, behind him. No matter

how much he wished otherwise, this separation was her wish—and the

wise choice he hadn‟t had the fortitude to make on his own.

He pasted on a smile. “I‟m fine.”

Emily frowned. “You‟re not feeling depressed about your birthday, are

you?”

Not in the way she meant, but it was a good excuse. “Perhaps a little.”

“Then it‟s my job to cheer you up!” She smiled, flashing dimples, and

reached for his hand.

This and chaste kisses. In the last month, he‟d managed no more

contact with her than that. How could he get through a wedding night when

he couldn‟t imagine ever having sex with her? Worse, what would he do

when the need he still felt for Alyssa clawed through his skin, demanding

something only she could give? Would his resolve to leave her in peace

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waver then? Would he disregard his marriage vows? Or would he endure in

silence until he grew to resent Emily?

“You don‟t have to.” He gathered his utensils, notebook, and pens,

then took a long time arranging them in his backpack—giving himself more

time to school his features and erase his hunger for Alyssa.

“Luc.” She touched his shoulder. “I wanted to wait until we were alone,

but . . . You haven‟t been the same since you returned from Louisiana. I

didn‟t want to push, but—”

“Then don‟t,” he said quietly. “There‟s nothing you can do.”

The perpetual smile finally slipped from her face. “I‟m a good listener.”

“I know you are, Emily. I have to work this out alone.”

“If you‟re no longer interested in me and the sort of future we

discussed, just tell me.”

He closed his eyes. Cling to the past or force out the lie?

“Luc.”

He heard another female call his name, this one farther away. But her

familiar voice zipped across his senses like an electric charge through his

body, spreading chills across his skin. Had he missed her so much he‟d

dreamed her?

He whirled around, hope spiking inside him. And across the room she

stood.

“Alyssa?” Shock sucker-punched him. Luc nearly couldn‟t breathe.

The last time he‟d seen her, she‟d thrown him out of her club. Out of

her life. Why was she here now? Was she okay? Had she missed him,

even a bit?

He drank in the sight of her. Despite six weeks passing, Alyssa still

took his breath away as she cautiously drew closer. She‟d fastened half of

her long platinum hair at her nape and let the remaining strands trail down,

stopping low on her back. Worn jeans clung to her small figure, looser than

he remembered. Somehow the black stilettos made her look more fragile.

She wore a tight Sexy Sirens T-shirt with red lettering that invited Come

Live Your Fantasy right across her breasts. She wore almost no makeup.

Even so, her eyes were hauntingly blue. And she looked exhausted.

When she stood a few feet away, Alyssa glanced at Emily, then looked

back at him. “Your girlfriend?”

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“Yes,” Emily answered quickly.

With a raised brow, Alyssa sent him a cold stare. “I‟ll contact you at a

better time.”

She turned and walked out the archway, into the main space of the

department store. Luc didn‟t think twice. He dodged around the

demonstration table and charged after her.

Just before his approach, she whirled to him, frustration all over her

face. Luc stopped in his tracks. He wanted to touch her so badly . . . but

she‟d told him never to touch her again. Even now, her expression warned

him away.

“Don‟t leave.” He heard the pleading in his voice.

God, he‟d missed her so much. He‟d say anything—do anything—just

to spend five more minutes with her. In that moment, Luc feared he knew

why.

He‟d fallen in love.

She cut a glance over to Emily across the room. Luc didn‟t have to

look at the other woman to feel her confusion and hurt. Some foolish side

of him rejoiced. Emily must be seeing where his heart was. So much easier

than sitting her down over a civilized dinner to crush her picket fence.

“Your girlfriend doesn‟t want me here,” Alyssa pointed out

“I want you here. Don‟t go.” He fastened a desperate gaze on her and

willed her to understand.

“Is there someplace we can talk? I won‟t take up too much of your

time.”

“Take all you want.”

Alyssa bit that lush lower lip, then looked up at him through the veil of

her dark lashes. It was a nervous gesture—sexy as hell. But he worried . . .

She looked thinner, paler, more vulnerable.

“Are you all right?” He barely stopped himself from wrapping a light

hand around her shoulder.

She bit her lip harder. “Not here.”

Someplace private. Right. “Wait just a moment.”

Luc jogged back to the demonstration room, trying to think of

something to say to Emily. He came up blank. “I have to go.”

“What about your birthday dinner?” she screeched.

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What about it? He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Finally,

he shook his head.

Emily examined his face with intelligent hazel eyes. “She‟s what

happened to you in Louisiana.”

Perceptive. He sucked in a breath and took the plunge. “Yes.”

The woman glanced over at Alyssa. “She‟s incredibly beautiful.”

“Inside and out.”

“I never stood a chance.” Emily tried to cover her shock and

disappointment with a tight smile, but she choked on her words.

Damn, lately it seemed that he hurt people wherever he went, but he

had to start being honest with Emily. It was unkind of him to continue this

charade with her. He would not make her a good husband. And though Luc

didn‟t know why Alyssa was here, it didn‟t matter. If she was entering his

life again, even for a moment, as long as he had the possibility of being

with her, he would grab it with both hands. Maybe the hot flame of their

passion would burn out, but he didn‟t think so. Either way, they weren‟t

done. If she let him in her life again and came to trust him, he‟d tell her

about his sterility—and let the chips fall.

“You love her,” Emily said softly.

It wasn‟t a question, and Luc refused to insult her with a lie. “Yes.”

Her face crumpled. “You‟re not going to call me again, are you?”

Luc took her hands in his. “Would you really want me to?”

Sighing as a fat tear rolled down her face, she shook her head and

pulled her hands free. “I know it‟s best if you don‟t. For what it‟s worth . . . I liked you very much.”

Damn, he felt like such a prick. “You‟re a wonderful woman, and

someday, someone will make you very happy because he loves you, not

the idea of you.”

He bent and kissed her cheek. Then with a tight nod, she raced out of

the little room, spearing Alyssa with a glance as she exited the department

store and out to the crisp autumn afternoon.

The moment she was gone, Luc returned to Alyssa‟s side. She

stepped back as he approached, looking distressed.

“I didn‟t hear anything she said except . . . it‟s your birthday?”

Luc smiled encouragingly. “Having you here is a gift I didn‟t expect.”

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“I ruined your evening.”

No, she‟d saved it. “Not at all. Let‟s grab a bite, and we can talk.”

Luc expected her to refuse. Alyssa hesitated, then sent him a nervous

nod.

Pleasantly surprised at her agreement, he led her to his waiting car, a

new Jaguar he‟d purchased after signing the cable TV agreement two

weeks ago.

As they approached the vehicle, a photographer race-walked across

the sidewalk to reach him, camera flashing. Luc tried to shield Alyssa with

his body, thankful that she‟d donned sunglasses that hid half her face.

“Emily Adams left alone in tears. Is this your new girlfriend?” the

photographer shouted, snapping pictures all the while.

Ouch! “No comment. Please stop.”

As they neared the car, the photographer followed, and Luc cursed

and ran, urging Alyssa along.

“I should follow you so you don‟t have to drive me back here . . . after,”

she suggested, keeping pace with him.

“I don‟t mind,” he insisted.

She sent him a brittle smile. “You will.”

What did that mean? Had Peter started misbehaving now that he was

out on bail and awaiting his trial? Jack hadn‟t said a word, damn it! He‟d

talked to Deke‟s business partner nearly every day.

“If we want to make a quick exit, it would be best if you just hopped in

the car,” he pressed, unlocking it with his key fob.

“I insist.”

Stubborn to a fault. “Okay . . . Two blocks east there‟s a quiet little

Italian place. I don‟t think the photographer will follow us there if we‟re

quick.”

“They hound you like that a lot now?”

He winced. “Just since I started doing the talk shows. I keep hoping

they‟ll go away. Does Italian sound good?”

“Sure.” The word itself was enthusiastic, but the tone was very

whatever.

Luc gnashed his teeth. The suspense was killing him. Now he added

worry to the mix. Something was definitely wrong here.

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After she agreed to follow him to the restaurant, he waited for her to

pull around. The photographer ran after him until he couldn‟t jog fast

enough to chase their cars anymore.

The drive to Georgio‟s was the longest five minutes of Luc‟s life. Why

did Alyssa assume that he would mind being with her after dinner? What

the hell was going on? Why did she look so thin and tired? Was Bonheur

weighing on her? Had she come to him for advice?

Finally, he pulled into a parking spot in the restaurant‟s lot. The one

beside him was empty, but she parked farther down the row. Damn. If

Alyssa wanted distance between them, why was she here?

She remained silent until they were seated in a quiet corner. It was

early on Saturday afternoon, long past the lunch rush, but well before

dinner.

“How is Bonheur?” he asked, hoping to entice her to lift her nose out of

the menu and talk to him.

“Fine. I was pleased with the first month‟s tally. This month is looking

even better. Thank you for your help.”

Luc smiled for her, though the mystery of her visit chafed at him. “The

hard work was yours. I just provided a little name recognition opening

week.”

“And then some. I saw you on Ellen last week.”

He winced. “Still getting used to the TV thing.”

“You did well.”

“Thanks. The network has arranged a lot of these appearances. They

want maximum exposure before the show actually launches in January.”

The waiter came by and took their drink orders. He ordered a cabernet

sauvignon. She asked for water and refused a cocktail. He frowned, and

asked the waiter to return later for their dinner selections.

“Let‟s order now.”

This instant? Was she hungry . . . or just didn‟t want to be in the same

room with him any longer than necessary?

Of course the latter. You treated her like a whore.

Reluctantly, Luc agreed, and they placed their orders. The waiter

finally left them alone.

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Luc turned to Alyssa, willing her to say something. He wanted to touch

her so badly, but not against her wishes. He owed her at least that much.

She sat in silence for long moments, fidgeting nervously.

“Is this about Peter?” he prompted gently. “Jack told me he didn‟t rape

you. I know he‟s free and awaiting trial. The DA has a solid assault and

attempted rape charge.”

She nodded. “Peter still insists he didn‟t write the notes. I don‟t think

we‟ll ever know the truth. But that‟s not why I‟m here.”

He leaned forward, getting a closer view of just how pale and shaky

she was. His worry deepened. “What is it? You can tell me anything.”

“Hell of a birthday present . . .” Her eyes closed. Her face tightened as

she pressed her lips together, as if looking for strength. Then she stared at

him with the deepest regret. “I‟m pregnant.”

Luc recoiled, blinked, stared. “Pregnant?”

Why tell him? Was she trying to claim the baby was . . . his?

“Are you sure?”

Slowly, she nodded. “I missed my period a few weeks ago and thought

maybe it was stress. But days went on, and I noticed changes in my body.”

“Like?” He barked the question at her. Maybe she‟d made a mistake.

Even if she hadn‟t, this child wasn‟t his.

After a horrific teenage illness with a decimating fever, Luc had

learned from his doctors that he‟d been left with a very low sperm count

that made the likelihood of him impregnating someone statistically

insignificant. He‟d been seventeen then, and his reaction to the news had

been mixed, a vague sadness with a whooping cheer that he and his

girlfriend of the moment would never have an “oops.”

The green light to sex in his late teens and early twenties had given

way eventually. He‟d returned to his doctor to have a physical for insurance

purposes at twenty-seven, and he‟d asked to be tested again. Despite

having been involved in ménages with Deke for a few years, he‟d begun

wondering if, maybe, he could find the right woman and have a family of his

own. His doctor had quickly squashed that possibility. Luc had even taken

a prescription drug, clomiphene citrate, for a few months to see if his sperm

count might improve. Further testing revealed his chances of fathering

children were slightly better . . . but still virtually impossible.

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He hadn‟t been tested since. Why bother repeating something so

humiliating? So devastating?

But Alyssa either thought the child was his or wanted him to believe

so. He drummed his fingers against the table, a surge of jealous anger

jolting him. Without knowing Luc‟s secret, she probably thought there was a

fifty/fifty chance he had fathered her child. But apparently, that honor was

Tyler‟s. So why track Luc down in Texas to give him the news, rather than

name her bouncer the expectant father? Because he‟d been on Ellen?

Because he‟d signed a sweet cable deal? That didn‟t sound like stubbornly

independent Alyssa, but he couldn‟t think of another reason.

Damn her! As lies went, this one hurt so bad, his insides were about to

implode. The pain of her rejection six weeks ago had hurt like hell, and she

was paying him back in spades.

“My . . . breasts became tender,” she continued into the silence. “I—I

felt like I had the flu. All of a sudden, I couldn‟t eat spicy foods. I was—

am—tired a lot. I saw my doctor yesterday. I‟m pregnant.”

Not by me . . . And didn‟t that reality taste bitter? He drummed his

fingers on the table again. What the hell did she want him to say?

Congratu-fucking-lations?

“I‟m . . . um, due June seventh.”

Luc had to give her credit. The math worked in favor of the child being

his. Though clearly she‟d been fucking Tyler that week as well.

“And . . . you‟re here because it‟s mine?”

She rolled her eyes. “Whether you believe me or not, you are the only

man I‟ve had sex with in nearly three years. So yes.”

Luc resisted the urge to laugh hysterically. It was either that or swallow

the reality that another man had impregnated the woman he loved and she

now lied to his face. His blood pressure rose, and he drummed his fingers

faster.

Luc opened his mouth to tell her the child couldn‟t possibly be his.

Then he stopped cold. She’s having a baby who needs a father.

He swallowed hard. His thoughts raced. What if . . . he didn‟t refute

her? There must be some reason she‟d chosen to pin this on him. Did the

why matter?

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Once, he‟d been eager to marry Kimber, despite the fact he hadn‟t

been in love with her, so he could be a father to the unborn baby she‟d

thought she was carrying. When Emily departed earlier, yet another chance

at fatherhood had walked out the door. Now Alyssa was dropping

opportunity right into his lap. And she came with a bonus; unlike Emily or

Kimber, he had deep feelings for her. More than he‟d ever felt for any

woman, lies and all.

Suddenly, he knew exactly what he wanted. He also knew that after

the way they‟d last parted in Lafayette, he had to play this carefully.

“Say something,” she choked.

Luc hesitated, thinking through his strategy. “Have you told anyone?”

She frowned, then started scooting out of the booth. “If you‟re worried

I‟m going to mess up your new image or screw up your relationship with

your girlfriend, don‟t be. I don‟t want anything from you. I thought I‟d just be

a decent human being and inform you. Duty done.”

Interesting tactic on her part. Reverse psychology?

Luc beat her out of the booth and blocked her path. “That‟s not at all

what I meant. I wanted to know if you‟d told anyone in Lafayette.”

Alyssa bristled. “Like Tyler? Why? There‟s zero chance this baby is

his, so no. I thought I owed you first. When I do tell Tyler, he‟ll probably

come up with some silly scheme to get married . . .”

Luc‟s guts fell somewhere around his toes. Alyssa married to Tyler?

The bouncer playing father to this baby? Over his dead body.

“Now that I‟ve told you about my pregnancy—” She pushed against his

chest.

He refused to budge. Finally realizing that he wasn‟t moving an inch,

she flopped back into her seat and glared at him.

“Now that I know, we should discuss our options,” he said, sitting

again. Luc tried for calm, but his heart raced.

“Options?” she all but shrieked. “I came to inform you in person,

instead of taking the chickenshit way out and phoning you. But I‟m having

this baby. You won‟t push your money off on me and persuade me abort—”

“That‟s the last thing I want!” The thought horrified him.

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“Oh.” She looked away. “Look, I‟m not asking for anything. It‟d be great

for the kid‟s sake if you wanted to be involved, but if not . . .” She shrugged.

“Plenty of single moms do it.”

She was independent and determined enough to go it alone. He

admired her tenacity, even as he wanted to shake her.

Luc chose his words carefully. “So you wouldn‟t marry Tyler if he

asked?”

“I haven‟t given it much thought. He hasn‟t actually asked; I‟m just

guessing he might.”

Fairly accurate guess, in Luc‟s estimation. Tyler loved her and would

latch on to any reason to make her his. Besides, the man could argue the

child was his. And he‟d be right. Luc wasn‟t going to allow Tyler that

chance. He wanted this baby. And despite the lies, he wanted Alyssa, too.

So much, the craving was nearly beyond his control. Some part of him was

even perversely pleased with this outcome.

This time, he‟d be better to her. He‟d never let another man touch her.

He‟d never give her cause for regret.

“Something against Tyler or marriage in general?”

Alyssa frowned. “Tyler‟s been my rock lately. I don‟t know much about

his life before he showed up on my doorstep, want ad in hand. But he‟s

solid. Marriage . . . I don‟t think it works. I‟ve seen guys who seem like the

most devoted dads come in for a weekly lap dance, looking for something

extra on the side.”

“Not every man cheats,” Luc chided her.

Alyssa raised a golden brow. “Most.”

“Some,” he corrected. “Women cheat, too.” How would she react to

that statement? With guilt?

She just shrugged. “I don‟t see them in my club every night.”

The line of questioning had netted nothing. Time to change tactics.

“Cheating aside, would you get married? For the baby?”

“To Tyler?” She hesitated a long moment, then sighed. “Maybe.”

Luc sifted through the information, still drumming his fingertips. While

she didn‟t seem enthusiastic about the idea, Alyssa hadn‟t said no. He had

to crush that quickly.

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“I didn‟t come to ruin your birthday. I just . . . thought you should

know.” She rose from the booth again. “I‟ll call you when the baby is born.”

“Wait!” Luc blurted, cursing that she might be playing him like a fiddle.

He still didn‟t know what she wanted, but he had to tip his hand, say or do

whatever necessary to keep her and this baby in his life. “Don‟t go. I‟m

thrilled you‟re pregnant.”

“Really?” She frowned, looking unconvinced. “You‟re happy?”

“Ecstatic. The best birthday present ever.” He clenched his fists to

keep from reaching out to her. “I don‟t want you to call me when the baby is

born. I‟d like to be involved in this child‟s life. I want to be there every step

of the way—first tooth, first word, first crush, first date. I also want to be

there for you during your pregnancy.”

Her eyes went wide. “Wha . . . what do you mean? You want to go to

my doctor appointments?”

“Yes. I want to be part of the whole experience. I‟m ready to be a

father. A great father.” Understatement of the millennium. “I will not let you down.”

Luc hesitated before saying more. Would his enthusiasm lure her in?

Or make her run in the other direction? A calculated risk. She was afraid,

and he had to be careful.

“Okay.” She nodded, looking slightly shocked. “Thanks. That would be

. . . helpful.”

He planned to be far more than helpful.

“You know, there are advantages to being married,” he pointed out.

“Financial, of course. But children are a lot of work. Having another set of

hands would lighten your load, especially when they‟re sick or up all night,

or you need to work late. And what about safety? It‟s been a concern for

you lately. Having a husband around would add protection for you and the

baby. You‟d rest easier. The baby would have the stability of a two-parent

family, a last name. The love of both a mom and a dad.”

Alyssa froze. “You want me to marry Tyler?”

Damn it! Time to stop this verbal poker game and throw his cards on

the table.

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Luc stood and leaned toward her, risking all and taking her face in his

hands. Her gaze bounced up to his, and he felt the zing of that poignant

blue all the way to his toes.

When she‟d walked back into his life, he‟d never imagined it would be

to lie to him. Even so, he still wanted her so badly.

“No. I want you to marry me.”

“. . . SO that‟s what‟s up with me.”

It was nearly four in the morning at Sexy Sirens. The club was closed

now, and Alyssa faced Sadie and Tyler, nerves jittery in her stomach.

“The fucker got you pregnant and left?” Tyler screamed, his tense

body leaving no question that he was ready to hit something—preferably

Luc‟s face. “Where is he? I wanna know right now.”

Alyssa sighed. “He didn‟t „leave me.‟ He says he wants to marry me. I

don‟t really know why. The baby, I guess.”

Tyler snorted. “You‟re gorgeous, smart, kind—and you‟re going to

have his kid. Why the fuck wouldn‟t he want to marry you?”

“He also thinks I‟m a whore and may even believe this baby is yours.”

“I wish,” Tyler muttered under his breath.

Still, Alyssa heard. Could she feel any worse? “His proposal shocked

me.”

“You‟re thinking of accepting, even though you threw him out on his

ass last time he was here? After the shitty way he treated you?”

Alyssa bit her lip. She‟d been thinking through that. Being Luc‟s wife

and having his name on the birth certificate would have benefits. Stability.

Money, if anything ever happened to her. Though it might be old-fashioned

of her, she‟d prefer to raise a child with two parents.

Tyler raised a good point, though. All the volatility and mind games she

and Luc had played last time couldn‟t happen again. If she accepted his

proposal, they must be on the same page about that.

But at the end of the day, though it might make her twenty kinds of

stupid, she loved Luc too much to say no.

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“I‟ll handle it.”

“How?” Tyler snarled. “He practically ran your heart over and left your

for dead last time.”

“I said I‟ll handle it.”

The possibility of losing Luc to his picture-perfect suburban girlfriend . .

. Cold chills didn‟t begin to describe the feeling. Utter fear. Panic. Jagged,

aching sadness.

“This is shit,” Tyler yelled. “Given how badly he treated you, what kind

of father would he be?”

“I think he‟ll be a great one,” Alyssa answered, going with her gut.

“Once he got over the shock of the pregnancy, he seemed really

enthusiastic about the baby. Claimed he wants to be very involved.”

“Maybe that would be enough for him,” Tyler argued. “Without

marriage.”

“And maybe not,” Sadie put in. “I learned that the hard way when the

courts let my ex, Kenneth, take little Ben from me because of my past.”

“You can‟t marry Luc because you‟re afraid of what he might do. Hell,

I‟ll marry you. I‟d love to.”

Alyssa closed her eyes. She‟d suspected those words were coming,

and she should rejoice. Having Tyler at her side as the other half of a

parenting unit would look good to the courts, if it came to that.

But she couldn‟t deny that even though Luc‟s proposal had been

practical, it had filled her heart with a hope she wished she could deny.

Tyler‟s only filled her with regret.

True, she could wait and see if Luc was vindictive or possessive of this

baby. If he was, then she could always take him or Tyler up on his offer.

But if she was honest with herself, she‟d ached for Luc in the last six

weeks, as if someone had ripped away a part of her soul. There was a

reckless part o f her that wanted t o see i f she could still have that picketfence dream she‟d been clutching to her heart since her world had

shattered at fifteen. And have those dreams with the man she loved. The

only thing that could make it better was if he fell in love with her in return.

If they had their whole lives ahead of them, rather than just a week,

maybe someday . . . If not, they had a child to raise, and that had to be her

first focus.

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“I appreciate that, Tyler. But I don‟t want you to sacrifice your life for

me.”

“It wouldn‟t be a sacrifice,” he said solemnly. “It would be an honor.”

“You should find someone who loves you and wants to have your

children,” she said gently but firmly. Tyler had to understand that she was a

dead end for him, especially now.

She tossed back the rest of her water, then stood.

“Where are you going?” Sadie asked.

Alyssa‟s gaze fell on Tyler, who was clenching his jaw and judiciously

not looking at her. She‟d hurt him, and guilt hammered her to the core. Why

couldn‟t she love him? He was always there, always kind, funny, interesting

. . . A buddy, but not a lover. Luc was sophisticated, complicated—every

other sort of - ated she could think of. They shouldn‟t have anything in

common.

Except . . . it was his focus. Alyssa felt special with him. To him.

They‟d had their share of arguments, but when he took her in his arms or

turned on his tender side, something inside her told her it was right.

She caressed Tyler‟s hard shoulder, a silent apology.

“I‟m going to call Luc.”

“At this time of night?” Sadie looked at her as if she needed her head

examined.

Alyssa shrugged, trying to tamp down her ridiculous giddiness. She

may come to regret this decision, but at the moment, she refused. Not only

did she have a baby to think about, but this was her last chance at the fairy

tale, and she was seizing it. “He said to call anytime. I‟m thinking if we‟re

going to get married, I should tell him.”

172

Shayla Black