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Baby Steps (Yeah, Baby Book 2)(9)

By:Fiona Davenport


“I brought some groceries because I wasn’t sure if the house was stocked,” Jade said, stirring the pot and keeping her back to me. “Mr. Wilkinson explained nobody had been in residence. I was going to ask what you wanted to do about dinner, but I couldn’t find you. “

She started hunting around and I finally snapped out of my trance, helping her to locate dishes and silverware.

“I made minestrone soup, salad is in the fridge, and there are fresh rolls. Help yourself.” She was still avoiding my gaze and it was beginning to annoy me, but I worried about what I’d do if I looked into her intoxicating eyes. So, I helped myself to the food, put it on a tray, thanked her quietly, and ran to my office like a coward.

A little after midnight, I took my dishes to the kitchen, rinsed and put them in the dishwasher, then went up to my room. I hesitated at Jade’s door, my hand itching to reach for the handle. Did she sleep in silky little nighties? Or a pair of boxers (I felt violent at the thought that she might be wearing another man’s clothes) and a t-shirt? Or, I swallowed hard, in the nude?

I groaned and forced my feet to step one in front of the other until I was shut in my bedroom. Keeping my eyes anywhere but on the connecting door, I stripped and took an icy shower. After I had dried off, exhaustion hit me, and I practically stumbled to the bed and passed out.

Several hours later, I woke in the darkness from a distant sound. Instantly alert, I sat up and listened. It sounded like—well, like someone was getting sick. After a moment, I realized it was coming from Jade’s ensuite bathroom. I threw the covers off and raced to her room.





Chapter 5


Jade


Ugh! Could tonight get any worse? Apparently it could, because another convulsion shook my body and I lost whatever contents remained in my stomach from dinner. Minestrone soup wasn’t fun when it came back up, especially not when it had been paired with a salad.

Make that much, much worse. “Jade? Are you okay?” Lucas’s question was spoken gently through the door, in a tone I hadn’t heard from him since before he turned into an ass and stormed out of our hotel room.

“Do I sound like I’m fine?” I muttered under my breath.

The opening of the door was the only answer I got to a question he couldn’t have possibly heard. Then he was on his knees behind me, one hand bunching my hair at the back of my neck while the other rubbed my back in soothing strokes. Jerky Lucas was hard enough to resist, I couldn’t possibly expect myself to fare any better with this caring version of him. At least I didn’t have to worry about falling victim to the chemistry between us anytime soon, since I felt like death warmed over and probably looked like it too.

When it seemed as though I was done, Lucas helped me to my feet and settled me on the stool in front of the vanity. The freaking vanity! This house was nothing like anywhere I’d ever lived before and I couldn’t help but feel intimidated by the visible signs of wealth all around me. Well except maybe for the gourmet kitchen. It had truly been a joy to cook in there.

My stomach gurgled and I shoved all thoughts of food from my mind while taking the cold washcloth Lucas was handing me. Before I could use it, his hand was on my forehead, checking for a fever. I slapped it away and swiped the washcloth over my face.

“I don’t think you have a fever.” He sounded genuinely concerned. “And I ate the same dinner as you, so I don’t think it’s food poisoning.”

I wished I was lucky enough to have food poisoning. “It’s not.”

“Maybe it was whatever you had for breakfast? That could explain why you were sick in Mr. Wilkinson’s office earlier.”

So could the baby I was beginning to think I was carrying. Not that I was going to tell him that, so I kept my mouth shut and let him continue.

“You should have made something lighter for dinner,” he chided. “As much as I enjoyed the soup, chicken noodle would have been better if your stomach was still upset.”

“Like you’re the expert on what’s good for me,” I mumbled. “You don’t even know me, not really. Or you wouldn’t have said all those horrible things.”

And, yep, those were tears welling in my eyes and streaming down my cheeks. What the heck was wrong with me? Oh, yeah. That’s right. I was tired. I was also nauseous, but somehow hungry at the same time. Plus, I’d been stupid enough to pack a bag and move into the bedroom next to the man I’d let fuck me on a desk in a hoity-toity law office. An office belonging to the man who’d convinced me it wasn’t just in my best interests to stay here but also Lucas’s, and for some insane reason I actually cared. To top it all off, I was more hormonal than I’d ever been in my entire life. Probably because I’d missed my last period, not from the stress of my mother’s death and my upcoming show, as I’d hoped, but due to the fact that I was almost definitely carrying Lucas’s baby.