"I," she choked, "um, thank you so much."
The waitress nodded then set off again, but Tawny barely saw her. Instead, she was focused on Luke.
Luke, who was no longer riddled with confusion, but was now flicking a shocked stare from her to the heaping plate of waffles in front of her and back again.
His normally tanned face was the same color as the pristine white counter beside them. His strong throat worked and, without a word, he reached out to take her hand, stood, and then pulled her to stand along with him.
With a thudding heart, she followed his gaze as it trailed lower, landing finally on the swell of her stomach in her T-shirt.
Blood rushed to her head as she gripped the table for support.
Now what?
Chapter 8
“You’re…” he started, but didn't know what else to say.
What was the point in asking? The evidence was right there, staring back at him. Tawny was definitely pregnant.
The night at the lake came back to him in a rush and he finally remembered the thing that he’d forgotten.
Neither of them had thought to use protection.
Holy fuck.
Tawny was pregnant and it seemed almost impossible that the baby could be anyone’s but his.
"Luke," she said, but he held up a hand. He didn't want to hear it. Not in front of everyone. He had to get her out of here, away from the prying eyes of the townspeople, away from the bright lights and the chaos.
Taking a wad of money from his pocket, he laid it down on the table and led her by the hand to the door on the far side of the restaurant. As he went, he saw Suzette trailing behind them but he didn't bother to look at her. It was only when Tawny tugged him to a stop that he turned around to face her.
"What exactly do you think you're doing?" Suzette demanded.
"I don't need to answer to you. This is between me and Tawny.” He gritted his teeth. So, she knew about this too. One of Rex's close friends and she hadn't had the respect or the decency to tell him. Unless, of course, that baby wasn't his, after all.
“I didn't ask you who this was between,” Suzette snapped. “Get your hands off her."
"I would never hurt her, but this has nothing to do with you, Suzette. Back off." He hadn’t meant to bark the last few words, but he couldn't focus on that now – not when his mind was racing a mile a minute, thinking over all the ways he royally fucked up his life.
Finally, Tawny piped up. "Suzette, why don’t you go and pack up my waffles for me? I'll be along soon. It’s okay, really.”
Suzette looked like she wanted to argue, but either his own expression of fierce determination or Tawny’s look of resignation convinced her to go back inside. Once the little jingle of the doorbell sounded, he found himself hauling Tawny across the road toward the park benches a little ways away.
All the while, his mind whirred erratically, spinning out in every direction until he found himself practically struggling for breath. How could he have done this? To her? To himself?
It was like he could see his bike shop crumbling to pieces in front of him and, in its place, he was in yet another ramshackle house, another dead-end mechanic shop, an endless version of the life he’d been so determined to leave behind.
After all of his struggle and sacrifice, he was going to be just like his parents, scrimping and saving to care for children they couldn’t really afford. Busting their asses just to make ends come within an inch of meeting.
Then his throat was dry. Like sandpaper. His muscles so tense, he was quaking.
It wasn’t possible. How could it be? To ruin his entire life in one night? One mistake. A blip in time.
He saw them in his mind’s eye, he and Tawny, from an outside perspective. In the lake, their heads spinning, their hearts racing. She was a stranger. A girl he’d known for little more than an hour. And now…
He swallowed hard as he led her to the bench at the edge of the park, his gaze landing again on the swell of her belly beneath her pink cotton t-shirt. Her face was drained of every hint of color, but she didn’t tear her gaze from him. Instead, she stared straight back at him, as if daring him to say something. Anything.
She was carrying his child. This woman was going to be a mother. And he?
He was going to be a father.
“This is my baby,” he said, and though it wasn’t a question, she nodded.
“How…how far along are you?” He forced the words from his mouth.
“Almost four months.”
He closed his eyes and then scrubbed a hand over his face, a fresh wave of nausea assaulting him. She had to have known for a while now. A month? Maybe two? All this time, she could have made some effort to find him, to reach out. Hell, all it would have taken was one message from Suzette to Rex.