She stood and strode away from me, joining two of her friends who’d just been seated in the main restaurant area.
I sat there and stewed, drinking way too much but needing something to numb the pain of my reality. She’d been right. Clara was too good for me. Fuck, she hadn’t even wanted anyone to know about us or our kid. I’d been so caught up in the possibilities, I hadn’t stopped to think about the dangerous ones too.
Clara stood, and fucking Ben offered her his arm, and he put his goddamned hands over her belly. He touched her like they were a couple. Like she was his.
“Excuse me,” I said to the bartender, dropping more than enough cash on the bar to cover my drinks.
“Want me to call you a cab?” she asked.
“No. I’m—” I stumbled. “I’m good.”
“I don’t think you are.”
A big burly guy came over, grabbing me by the elbow. “Mr. Wilde, why don’t we get you out of here? We’ll call someone for you and make sure you get home safe.”
I shrugged out of his grip and growled, “Get your hands off me. I said I’m good.”
My damned feet didn’t want to cooperate with my brain as I missed the step down into the dining area and collided with a waiter. People gasped, staring in shock, and a couple sat back and chuckled. But the worst of all was the look on Clara’s face. Disappointment.
“Okay, cowboy?” Ben asked, coming close.
“Don’t fucking talk to me. You’ve been all over her, pissing a circle around her to make sure we all know your sights are set on her.”
“Look, man, I don’t know what is going on right now, but we were just having a business dinner.”
I snorted. “Business? Yeah, right. I saw the way you looked at her.”
“Are you sure you’re not talking about yourself?”
“Of course I look at her. She’s the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever known.”
“Then why don’t you take a step back and look at what you’re doing to her right now. Everyone’s watching.”
“Are you trying to get in her panties, Benny boy? Those are mine. Even if she doesn’t tell people,” I slurred.
“Mav. Stop it.” Clara’s words were small and wobbly, the sound tearing my hazy focus from her . . . date, to those perfect lips of hers.
“Stop what? Staking my claim? I’m sick of this, Clara. Sick of being the secret just so you can play house with this chump. What does he have that I don’t have? Is his dick bigger?”
The hushed murmurs coming from the crowd around us coalesced and became a roar in my ears. What the fuck was I saying? I needed to stop myself. But then that prick put an arm around her shoulders and leaned in, whispering in her ear.
“Get your hands off her,” I snarled, lurching forward and grabbing him by the bicep.
I yanked him away from her as I brought my free arm back and then threw a punch straight into his jaw. Unfortunately, I also threw my whole body forward, and while I connected with his face, I also fell into the table behind him. Glasses and plates crashed to the floor, people shouted, and before I knew it, Sheriff Paul Barker was there with disapproval written across his face.
“It’s always a Wilde or Ryker. Every single time.”
21
Clara
Maverick hadn't reached out to me. We hadn't spoken. Not since that awful night when I'd gone to dinner with Ben two weeks ago. The worst thing about it all was that we'd been talking about him. About how happy I was and how I wanted to take a chance with Mav and make something real. Part of that decision hinged on whether or not I'd be able to get Ben to stay at the clinic for longer than the one year we'd agreed to. He was good, and I knew he fit in with everyone who worked with my clients.
Instead of ending the night with a plan, Mav had lost his ever-loving mind, got drunk as a skunk, and assaulted him.
He'd been upset, jealous, and he clearly thought something was going on between us. But if he didn't trust me, what did we have? A whole lot of nothing.
We had an arrangement that wasn't working for either of us. I pulled out the agreement I'd had drawn up for us when he initially agreed to a no-contact, no claim donation and stared down at the paper, wondering how I'd gotten myself into this mess. I'd done everything right when I first asked. Hell, I hadn't even asked; he had offered.
So I guessed in hindsight, I did everything fucking wrong. I let him convince me this would be a good idea. I let him sway me with his pretty words and his handsome face and sexy as sin body. Add to that the way he called me baby and how he touched me, and it was no wonder I’d been put under his spell.
And now I was going to be not only a single mother but a heartbroken one. That was so much different from what I had planned on, from a life lived on my own terms as a strong, independent single woman raising her child. Now I had to deal with the fallout of losing him and my heart, all in one fell swoop. And it hurt.
My phone buzzed from where it sat on the charger, and I saw his name on the screen. For the first time ever, I didn't answer. I let it go because I couldn't face him. I didn't want to. I wanted nothing to do with Maverick Wilde until I'd calmed down and given my heart time to rest. Time to recover from the painful ache currently ravaging it.
The baby in my belly fluttered. Just a gentle kick to let me know she was there. I'd planned on telling him that I could feel the baby that night after my dinner with Ben. When Mav was supposed to come over. After all, I had some good news to share about our future and the plans I wanted to make with him. My plans for us to go public, showing the world we were together and having a baby, and we were in love. Because I wasn't ashamed of being with Maverick. I was one hundred percent on board and in love with him.
I was an idiot if I thought he wasn’t the same guy he'd always said he was. He told me. I could hear his voice in my head.
‘I’m not a good guy, not the one you settle down with. I'm just like my dad. You just can't see it’.
My phone rang again, my sister’s face flashing on the screen. I sighed and answered the video call. It had been months since we last talked. I couldn’t ignore her now.
“What the heck happened to you?” Becca asked, her brow wrinkling as she took me in.
I caught sight of myself in the small video window, and damn, she was right. I looked like hell. “It’s a long story.”
“I have time.”
So, taking a deep breath, I let it all out. I told her everything I’d been keeping to myself. About the baby, Mav, my absolutely heartbreaking evening. About the two weeks of radio silence between us.
“Did he give you any indication he was going to backslide?”
“No. But it was there in all our conversations up until the baby. He always told me he was like his dad. Every time he said it, I’d tell him that he needed to give himself more credit. He'd scoff, look at me, and smile before he’d tell me how glad he was I thought that about him because nobody else did.”
“He loves you. Anyone can see it. I’m not even there, and I can see it in the way you talk about him.”
She was right. Even now, after he embarrassed me, embarrassed us, I still wanted to believe that was true. But jealousy could do a lot to a person. And I knew that look in his eyes. I recognized it from a mile away because I've worn it on my own face. Any time I'd seen him dancing with another girl. When he let her touch him. When he gave her the attention he hadn't given me. It was hard to watch that. It hurt, and I had no claim to him back then.