Unexpectedly Yours(22)

"Hey, handsome," she drawled into his ear. "Why haven't you called?"

"I've been busy."

"Well, I need your help. You're a witness when that fricking  photographer stalked me, and my lawyer thinks you can help me beat the  rap."

Derek's heart sank. "I thought you were just going to plead no contest."

"I don't want to if there's a chance the charges might be dropped. Please, honey bun. Do this for me. For old times' sake."

Her sugary tone scraped on his nerves, and he wondered what he'd ever  seen in her. But that slimeball photographer had provoked her, and he  couldn't let her sink.

He sighed. "I'll be back in L.A. on the weekend. Call me next week, and we'll talk about it."

"I knew I could count on you," Marla gushed. "We gotta hang out again. A  friend of mine's opening a new club soon. I'll take you there."

No thanks. He'd help her, but that would be the end of their  relationship. He muttered something noncommittal and ended the  conversation. When he walked back into the living room, Caleb lifted a  questioning eyebrow.

"We couldn't help overhearing you were talking to Marla Beaudry." Caleb winked at him. "Can't wait to get back to L.A., huh?"

Hannah didn't say anything. She seemed more interested in straightening her books on the shelf.

"Uh, I'm just helping her out with her arrest."

"That's noble of you."

"I'm a noble guy." He tried to make light of it.

Hannah turned to face him, her hands on her hips. "If you've finished  chatting with your Hollywood pals, maybe you can bring in my armchair."   





 

Was she a tiny bit jealous? He didn't know why that put a spring in his step, but it did.



Hannah gazed at the rows of cereals in front of her, wondering what  she'd come into the store to buy. She was so tired. More than that, her  head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool, and her stomach felt  crampy and bloated. For days she'd been like death scarcely warmed up.  It must be moving into her new house that had done this to her, she  reasoned. She was still settling in, everything seemed strange, and  there were lots of little jobs that needed doing, like those shelves in  the kitchen.

Yes, these were all reasons for being so out of sorts, but she couldn't lie to herself that the chief cause was Derek.

He was leaving tomorrow, and all week her internal organs had slowly  been twisting tighter and tighter as the days ticked down. She never  imagined she'd feel this depressed about him going.

She picked up a box of cereal at random and dropped it in her shopping  basket. She and Caleb were supposed to be meeting Derek tonight at  Jimmy's for a farewell drink, but she didn't know how she'd be able to  act normally. She was totally confused about her feelings for Derek. At  first he'd just been a wicked one-night stand to boost her morale, but  now there seemed to be more.

She moved into the next aisle and grabbed the first jar of peanut butter  she saw. Sure, Derek had had plenty of lovers, but wasn't there  something special between them? After all, he wouldn't have suggested  she visit him in L.A. if it had just been a casual hookup for him. They  were friends; they shared a past history. And in bed they had a  beautiful sexual chemistry. Couldn't friendship and sexual attraction  morph into something more? Sure, there were stumbling blocks, like  Caleb, and her lingering fear of putting her trust in another man, but  they weren't insurmountable if their feelings for each other were strong  enough.

Feelings. Was she talking about love? Apprehension crawled over her.  Could a handsome, sexy, successful twenty-four-year-old man with a  budding TV career really fall in love with an ordinary, broke,  going-on-thirty divorcee struggling to put her life together? Not  likely. This was real life, not a romance novel.

A burst of giggles from across the store made her look up. A group of  three women, acting all excited, were clustered around a tall,  dark-haired man at one of the checkouts. The man turned to smile at  them, and Hannah's stomach lurched. It was Derek, surrounded by a trio  of fans-a well-kept woman with blonde highlights and her two teenage  daughters. They were all over Derek, who laughed and posed for photos  with them before sauntering out of the store.

"Wow, Mom," one of the teenagers said, gazing after Derek. "He's sooo  hot. I'll have to watch that show of yours." She was already busy on her  phone. "I'm posting him on Instagram. Hashtag mancandy."

Hannah spun away. Derek and women. Women adored him, and he didn't  discourage the attention. He probably got hit on all the time.

Her throat burned, her stomach heaved, her knees shook. Damn, was she going to be sick right here in the store?

"Hannah?" As if out of nowhere, Amber appeared before her. "Hey, what's up? You look like you're gonna throw up."

She took Hannah's arm, and her reassuring grip steadied Hannah. She  breathed in deeply several times. "I'm okay," she said eventually.

Concern still lingered in Amber's face. "Is it Derek? I couldn't help  noticing you turning white when you saw him over there. What's going  on?"

Hannah curled her fingers around the handle of her shopping basket and  forced herself to meet her friend's gaze. "Nothing. We had a  brief … thing, but it's over now." She hesitated, wanting to blurt out her  confusion, but now wasn't the time. Not in the middle of the  supermarket with her insides heaving. She pushed the hair away from her  clammy brow. "I'm not feeling all that hot. I've been exhausted for  days, and my stomach cramps are giving me hell."

Amber made a sympathetic noise. "Aw, sounds like it's that time of the  month. What you need is a warm bath, some Aspirin, and a big block of  chocolate."

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

Her friend bit her lip. "I'm late getting back to the store. Are you sure you can manage on your own?"

Hannah nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. You'd better go."

Amber gave her a hug and a kiss and hurried away.

Clutching her basket, Hannah meandered into the next aisle and gazed at  the shelves stacked with chocolate. She reached for the biggest block.  The way she was feeling she'd need plenty of this stuff …  Her hand froze.  Wait a minute. When last had she needed chocolate to get her through  that time of the month? A thick fog of panic blinded her as she  feverishly tried to count back in her head. Oh … oh, it hadn't been that  long ago, had it? Five, six weeks … ?   





 

Her knees wobbled as all the strength drained from her body. No, oh no.  This could not be happening. They'd been careful, every time. She was  positive about that. Had they somehow forgotten while lost in the haze  of lust? No, no. It couldn't be. But maybe something had failed. Maybe  she was …

She gasped out a retching sound, clinging to a shelf as her world began  to spin around her. She had to find out soon, one way or the other, or  the suspense would drive her mad. Feeling stupefied, she staggered  toward the aisle where they kept the women's health products.





Chapter Twelve

"And if you need any help after hours, just call Mrs. Pascoe," Derek said to his grandfather.

"I can look after myself," Otto grumped. "She'll charge you extra to come out after hours."

Mrs. Pascoe was Otto's third care assistant. She had completed three  full days now, which was three more than the previous two assistants.  Derek only hoped she'd last.

"Don't worry about that," he said. "Just call her. Or me. All my numbers are programmed into your handset."

"Yes, yes, you don't have to remind me again. I'm not senile yet." Otto  waved him off. "Now get going. You've got a long drive ahead of you."

He said his good-byes to Otto. It didn't take long. No hugs, no  insincere sentiments. His granddad's farewell was as gruff and brief as  always. Derek didn't expect anything more, had stopped expecting more  from his grandpa a long time ago. A minute later he was off.

It was a sunny morning, a good day to hit the road. Without any delays,  he could be back in L.A. by this evening. His house, tucked into the  hills, waited for him. He'd been proud to finally own his home, but now  for the first time the thought of it only made his gut twist more.  Hannah hadn't turned up at Jimmy's last night. Caleb had told him she  wasn't feeling well, and Derek had wondered all night if she was  avoiding him. Now, he realized that he couldn't leave without seeing her  one more time. Whatever had happened between them, they were still  friends, and friends didn't leave town without saying good-bye.

She might be at work, but he'd try her home first. As he neared her  house, he spotted her aging Ford parked in the driveway, and his palms  instantly grew damp. He got out of his SUV and wiped his hands across  the seat of his jeans, wishing he wasn't so nervous.

He knocked on the door. The seconds ticked by as his knock remained  unanswered. He was halfway to raising his hand again when the door  opened, and Hannah peered up at him.

Her expression froze. "Derek?"