Chapter Thirteen
Owen's chest constricted until he feared he'd suffocate. "Lindsey?" he croaked.
"Oh, you remember my name," Lindsey said, and she struggled to her feet. "I'm surprised."
The security guard began brushing off her butt with both hands. She gave him a look of disbelief, which halted the man's attempts to undo the damage he'd caused. What the fuck was he thinking? Tackling a pregnant woman to the ground? What an incompetent asshole.
There were a lot of women Owen had slept with whose names he'd admittedly forgotten, but Lindsey wasn't one of them. She'd been the last woman he and Kelly had pleasured together. He sometimes thought she'd somehow wrecked Kelly. It was either something Lindsey had done or that wrist cuff Owen had given him for Christmas. That's when Kelly had started pushing Owen away, so no, Owen wasn't likely to forget her, even if it had been six months since he'd last seen her.
"How do you know her?" Caitlyn asked, her arms crossed over her chest.
Uh …
Now would be a good time for a meteor to strike him dead.
"Um, well, there was snow," he said, as if that explained anything.
Lindsey looked at Caitlyn and scowled. "Excuse me, lady. I'm trying to tell Owen that I'm pregnant with his child. You need to go away. This is a private matter."
"What?" Caitlyn spat.
"What?" Owen bellowed.
"What?" the security guard sputtered.
An unseen man in the parking lot yelled, "What!" and his companions laughed at his cleverness.
"I'm pregnant," Lindsey said.
"I can see that," Owen said, his gaze glued to her abdomen. Dear God, there was no denying she was pregnant. "What the fuck does that have to do with me?"
"Is this your wife, Owen?" Caitlyn asked as she took several steps backward, shaking her head and pushing her hands uselessly out in front of her.
"No, she's not my wife."
"Yet," Lindsey said.
"She's not even my girlfriend," Owen said.
"I see." Caitlyn said with a nod. "She's just a toy that you used to get your rocks off. Kind of like me."
Owen shook his head. "No. It was different with you. I like you."
"You don't like me?" Lindsey wailed. Then she broke into gut-wrenching sobs.
Owen squeezed his eyes shut. He'd made a pregnant woman cry. A pregnant woman who might or might not be carrying his child. He needed to sit down. Or lie down. Or drown himself in a toilet.
"I'm out of here," Caitlyn said.
He watched her march up the bus steps and then emerge thirty seconds later with her purse and overnight bag. It was as if his feet had taken root and his mouth had been sewn shut. When Caitlyn brushed past him, he caught her arm.
"Don't go," he said. His biggest fear slammed him in the chest. Not fatherhood, though he hadn't quite processed that yet, but rejection. She was flat out rejecting him, and he couldn't fucking stand it.
Her eyes narrowed, and she gave him a look that ripped his heart out of his chest and left a gaping chasm in its place. All the warmth had left her gaze when she looked at him. "You don't really expect me to stay, do you? What are you going to do with her?"
Owen glanced over at Lindsey, who blew her nose on a tissue offered by the concerned security guard. The guy glared at Owen, his mouth tight, his expression disapproving.
Oh yeah, I'm the bad guy here.
"I'll figure something out," Owen said to Caitlyn. "It's probably not even my baby. She slept with the entire band that night. No telling who else she spread her legs for."
Caitlyn rolled her eyes and jerked her arm out of his grasp. "Right. Men! All a bunch of fucking liars. And you're the king of them, aren't you?"
"I asked you not to call me a liar, Caitlyn," he said, his own ire rising. What did she expect him to do? He wanted her to stay, but if she trusted the word of a sobbing, pregnant, twenty-year-old groupie over his, then maybe it was best if she said goodbye now.
"Goodbye, Owen."
He flinched. Nope. It wasn't for the best at all. "I'll call you," he said, glad they'd exchanged numbers at dinner, before his life had exploded into chaos. "Once I get this straightened out."
She tossed a hand up over her head as she stormed away. Did that mean not to bother or that she'd talk to him later or what? He watched her retreating figure for a moment before he started after her. "Wait, Caitlyn. I'll have the limo take you home."
"Don't talk to me right now, Owen; I'll figure out how to get home on my own. I don't need your help. The weepy, pregnant girl needs your help. Go take care of her."
But he didn't want her. He wanted Caitlyn.