Vulture (a Stepbrother Romance) -(45)

My assistant laughed. “I know everything, you keep forgetting that, Harvey. And you know, now I come to think about it, I might as well stop organising all these blind dates for you. Seems you’re having plenty of fun with Sara,” she teased.

“Very funny, Sadie, but it’s not like that,” I responded.

“Oh it isn’t, is it?”

“No.”

“But you want it to be, don’t you? Before you answer, remember I can read your face with my eyes shut,” she said, grinning infuriatingly.

“I gotta go.” I quickly packed up my things.

“Mmm, it’s not like you to back away from my teasing.”

“Sadie, quit it. You’re not helping.”

“Fine, but…” she held up a finger as I scowled at her, “you’ll regret it if you don’t say anything. It’ll fester and drive you mad, and it’ll make my life miserable having to put up with your moody face.”

“Whatever, see you tomorrow.”

“Bye. You just be gentle with that one’s heart. She and I are buddies now; mess with her and you’ll regret it!” she said, smiling, as I left my office.

I laughed. Yeah, I definitely didn’t think through giving Sara a job here properly. Those two would no doubt gang up on me the first chance they’d get. I was outnumbered.

It took me over an hour to reach Sara’s place. I drove around a bit, thinking about my options before eventually pulling into her drive. Echoing in my head, Sadie’s words had really done a number on me. Could I actually tell Sara how I felt? And if I did, would she demand that I leave like the last time? I wasn’t too sure if I could handle being rejected a second time, even though I wasn’t certain if she remembered the first. She might’ve believed she was dreaming when I kissed her as I held her tight in bed. But when I told her I’d be there for her no matter what, I meant it… and whether she liked it or not, I’d fight for her till my dying breath.

The familiar scent of cooking filled the air and pop music blared from the radio as I entered the tidy little house. Humbug threaded through my feet as soon I shut the door. I placed the bottle of wine I’d picked up onto the kitchen table and lifted up the meowing kitten.

“Hey, buddy,” I said scratching behind his velvety ears.

Sara was fussing over dinner; I don’t think she even noticed me coming in. She was mumbling to herself, her mouth moving like she was having a full-blown conversation, and she kept opening and closing cabinets as if she was looking for something.

“Did you lose something?” I called out, trying to make myself heard above the music. I frowned and went to turn the radio off. Even a fool could sense that there was definitely something up with her.

“Sara?” I said again. With the music silenced, my voice was the only sound in the room.

She screamed and dropped a serving bowl onto the floor. Startled, Humbug jumped from my hold and went into hiding in the living room.

“Bloody hell! You scared me half to death,” she said, trying to catch her breath. Then her eyes welled up with tears as she saw the irreparably shattered bowl in a thousand pieces on the lino. What the hell was going on with her?

“Sorry, you mustn’t have heard me come in.” Tears tumbled down her face, and I reached out a hand. “It’s just a bowl.”

“It’s not just a bowl!” she yelled.

“OK, what’s wrong?”

“T-there’s nothing w-wrong.” Her voice quivered, and so did her lips.

Shit.

I steered her away from the broken crockery and sat her down, adamant that she look at me. “Cut the bullshit, Sara. Tell me what’s up.” My words were harsh, like a slap to the face, but they did the trick of making her stop crying. The last thing I wanted was for her to be upset.

“I’m pregnant.”

“What?” I blurted. A mixture of shock and amazement settled upon me. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She nibbled her bottom lip and just like that, the stirring in my pants increased to a whole new level of awkwardness. The idea of her pregnant, swollen and ripe, made my head spin. “I took a test. It’s positive.”

“Eric’s?” I said quietly.

She nodded, and we said no more on that matter.

“How far along are you?”

“I dunno, must be three or four months.”

Wow. I ran my palms down my face and tried to wrap my head around her words. She must be going through hell, trying to decide what to do, I thought. Eric’s baby… Jesus. I looked back up and took in her face; a tear had fallen down her cheek. She was upset, and rightly so. A baby was supposed to be a happy occasion, but in light of what she’d told me, I felt my own blood start to boil. I’d had to keep myself in check when she’d listed all the abusive things he’d done to her over the years, and so help me, if he hadn’t already been six foot under, I’d have soon put him there.