The Magic of Love Series

by Margaret Locke

  “We ... he ... We said no strings. It was just for pleasure,” she confessed, looking up at Cat.

  “Sometimes life has other plans.” Cat smiled, though her eyes were suspiciously watery. “And sometimes those plans end up being better than any you could have devised yourself.”

  Amara said nothing. She doubted it. And now she had to tell Matthew.

  Chapter 30

  Amara hadn’t replied to his text by lunch nor answered her phone. The only logical thing to do was call Cat. Just to make sure nothing was amiss. Mostly likely Amara’s battery had died or something. He didn’t think she’d intentionally ignore him. They hadn’t argued last weekend, had had a great time, right? Though he had waited until Tuesday to text her about driving again. Had that been too long? He clenched his jaw. Maybe he shouldn’t call. Maybe he should give her space. Besides, he had stuff to do.

  After ten more minutes of staring blankly at the screen, he picked the phone up and dialed.

  “Treasure Trove, this is Cat speaking. How may I help you?”

  “Hey Cat, it’s Matt. I was ... Is Amara there?”

  Cat was silent for a long moment. “Hi, Matt. No, she’s not.” Her voice was strange.

  “Is she okay?”

  “Yes, yes,” Cat answered instantly, her tone overly bright. “She went to the Colonnade Club Pavilion on the Lawn.”

  “Oh, okay. I can catch her later.”

  A strange noise echoed through the phone. “I’d suggest you catch her there.”

  “What?”

  “Just trust me. Go find her, Matt. Now.” She hung up.

  He sat, staring at the phone in his hand. What the heck had that been about? Not that he was ever particularly clued in about women, but he had no idea what he’d just missed in that communication. Clearly something big, though. With a sigh, he unfolded himself from his chair and walked out his office door.

  What was he about to walk into?

  Amara sank into a large armchair in front of the fireplace. No fire crackled in it, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything. She’d told Cat she needed to go for a walk. Walking always helped to clear her head, and she desperately needed to do so in order to make some decisions. Cat insisted she take her cell phone and begged Amara to keep her updated as to where she was.

  Half of Amara had wanted to refuse. Catherine Cooper wasn’t her mother. The other half wanted to fall into her arms and weep, grateful for someone who gave a damn, who wanted to help her, and who didn’t reject her for the miserable choices she’d made. So when she’d reached the Colonnade Club, she’d dutifully called in her whereabouts, promising to be home in a few hours.

  She took in the soothing blue of the walls in this central room, the furnishings so achingly close in style to those of Clarehaven. She wanted to go home, wanted to flee, wanted to run away from her life.

  But she couldn’t.

  She’d done it once, to get here. Look how that had turned out. And she couldn’t return to her era, even if Cat could somehow send her back. Not unwed and expecting. She refused to ever again be a nine days’ wonder—or years, rather—to the ton.

  She was well and truly out of options.

  No, you’re not, an inner voice chided. You have means. You can survive this.

  Her phone chimed. Was Cat checking in again? She pulled it out. The words, as well as his name, leapt at her from the screen.

  On my way. What’s going on?

  She dropped the phone, listening to it crack as it hit the floor. Much like her world had cracked apart this morning.

  Matt’s long legs tore up the pavement as he walked, but it wasn’t fast enough. He broke into a run. A deep disquiet had settled over him at Amara’s continued silence and Cat’s cryptic words, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what was going on.

  He slid around co-eds laughing carelessly, ducked through crowds of students, his pace increasing as he hit the edge of the Lawn. Though the day was crisply cold, he’d broken a sweat—whether from exertion or fear, he wasn’t quite sure.

  He hesitated at the steps to the Colonnade Club, his hand on the doorknob. He sucked in a breath and opened the door, stealing in as quietly as possible. Ducking his head around the first doorway, he saw no one. No Amara.

  Hurrying along the hallway, he passed a stairwell before entering a parlor room painted blue. There he found her, sitting in a chair, her back rigid. At his footsteps, her eyes rose to his, and he paused.

  “Matthew,” she said, and she stood, smoothing her hand down over her abdomen.

  She looked unsteady, as if she were about to faint, and he raced to her, clutching her by the elbow. “Amara,” he said, his voice catching. “Cat said to come. What’s wrong?”

  Her eyes filled with tears, which spilled over her cheeks. Her mouth formed a horrified O. “I am sorry. So very sorry, Matthew.”

  He pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her, his hand smoothing her hair. “Whatever it is, I’ll help you, Amara.” He had no clue what might have upset her so, but he wasn’t about to abandon her.

  Her arms clung to him, as if she feared he might disappear, her grip increasing his nervousness even as he relished her body pressed so close. She sobbed into his shoulder for long moments, her chest spasming against his.

  The air was quiet, still. No one was there besides them. He was thankful for the unexpected privacy in such a public place. He wanted to get her out, get her away.

  She leaned back, sniffling, wiping her eyes with her hands. He didn’t let her go, instead touching his forehead to hers as he pressed a kiss to her nose. “Let me help you.”

  Sucking in a deep breath, she steeled her shoulders, the tension in her body radiating into him.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Chapter 31

  Matt stared at her. No words came. He didn’t think he could speak if he tried. He held her for a moment longer, then suddenly dropped his arms, stepping back. “Say what?”

  She nodded, misery oozing from her every pore. “Cat showed me how to do a test, and there were lines, and, oh, God, I’m so sorry, Matthew.”

  He ran a hand over his hair, his other hand on his hip, his chest heaving like he’d run a marathon. “And you’re telling me it’s mine?”

  Her face collapsed as if he’d struck her. He immediately wanted to call the words back, but he couldn’t, could only watch as she disappeared in front of him, walling him away.

  On the other hand, it wasn’t as if they’d claimed exclusivity. Had she been sleeping with other men? She had gotten awfully cozy with that idiotic cowboy. Before he’d dragged her away and home into his bed. Or rather, onto his floor. Without a condom.

  No, it was his. He knew it in his gut, in his heart.

  “Amara, I’m so—”

  She held up a hand, cutting him off. “No need. I see your opinion of me, one that is well deserved. I made the decision to have relations with you. I took this risk upon myself. And I shall be the one to pay the price for it.”

  Of course, she wouldn’t. This was their problem, not only hers. And yet those words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t speak, his life-long plans crashing down around him. He’d never wanted children, but even if he had, he wouldn’t have wanted them now, not with tenure on the line. He’d seen colleagues lose their edge when they’d become parents, the sleepless nights and extra demands undermining their work performance. That wasn’t going to be Matt.

  He bit out a caustic laugh. Fuck. Just a few days ago he’d been mulling over how he hadn’t considered a relationship because he hadn’t wanted it to affect his professional career. Now here he was, facing impending fatherhood?

  She took a step back.

  “Amara,” he said, inching toward her.

  “No.”

  “No, what?”

  “Don’t say anything. Your reaction tells me everything I need to know.” It was her turn to give a bitter laugh. “And it’s no different from mine. I didn’t want children. I don�
��t want a child.”

  “Let me expla—”

  “No!” she repeated, her voice rising. “You need not. You need not to have any part of this. In my—at one time, you might have had to offer for me, but you needn’t do that here, and I assure you, I am not trying to entrap you.” She steeled her shoulders, her eyes red-rimmed, but now dry. “You are released from any obligation to me, Mr. Goodson.”

  With that, she turned and walked out the door, leaving him dumbstruck, his legs rooted to the floor, his eyes on her shattered cell phone.

  It matched his shattered life.

  Amara rushed across the Lawn, tears seeping from her eyes. She ignored the curious looks from people passing by. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it wasn’t that. It wasn’t being accused of having relationships with other men. It wasn’t silence. It wasn’t a laugh so harsh it’d nearly cut her in two.

  You didn’t react much better when you first saw those lines, Amara Mattersley. And he’d stayed. He hadn’t fled. He’d wanted to speak, and she’d cut him off. But what could he say? What could he do? He couldn’t repair this, and it was clear he had no more desire than she for a child. No, she might have ruined her own life, but she wasn’t going to ruin his, too. She’d work this out, somehow.

  She didn’t want to return to the Treasure Trove, yet where else could she go? If she contacted Shannon or Jill, she’d have to explain, and that she wasn’t willing to do. This situation was shameful enough. She could call Taylor, but to what end? She’d released Matthew from any obligation; contacting his sister would only complicate matters. And it wasn’t as if Taylor could remedy things, either.

  “Bloody hell.” The forceful words felt good leaving her lips, and she nearly said a few of the stronger terms she’d learned in the last month. She walked aimlessly, not sure where she was going, her eyes dry but burning. She missed her sisters. Lord, how she missed her sisters. Grace would be the most understanding, the most sympathetic. Emmeline would likely react as poorly as her mother, focusing on what this would do for her own marriage prospects over what it would do to Amara, though Amara could hardly blame the poor girl; her sisters had lived under the shadow of her scandal for years.

  Her disappearance must be a blessing to them. Must have been, rather. They were long gone now. What had happened after she’d left? Had they missed her? Cat had shown her the photographs Eliza’d sent, taken long after Amara disappeared. It’d been strange to see her youthful brother at an older age, children at his side, including Frederick, who’d grown into a surprisingly tall and handsome young man, given his frail, tiny stature as a child.

  They’d gone on. Had lives without her. She’d come here, to a new life. And she’d fouled it up as surely as she’d fouled up her life then—even more, now that an innocent child was involved.

  She stopped in her tracks, looking around. She’d wandered along Main Street for blocks and found herself now at the pedestrian mall to which Matthew had taken her for dinner. There were fewer people today, as the weather was noticeably colder. Nobody paid any attention to her as she walked slowly along one side of the shops, her eyes drifting over to the restaurant where she and Matthew had eaten. Had it only been just under a fortnight since? It felt like an eternity.

  A light mist began to fall, and Amara shivered. She should go home. Home? Ha. The Treasure Trove was not her home. She was a stranger there, an interloper. She stood for a few moments, staring unseeingly at the bricks at her feet.

  She needed to let Cat know she was okay. The woman had been nothing but kind. Heavens, the woman was the one who’d given her this chance. The one she’d ruined. She couldn’t let Cat worry. She needed to return.

  Then she needed to make plans.

  Matt couldn’t have said how long he remained in the Colonnade Club. He’d sunk into a chair, the one Amara had vacated when she’d stormed out. His mind swirled, a jumbled, tortured mix of emotions. He’d never wanted kids. Children were unpredictable. He wanted to be in control at all times, to know what was coming, to follow his plan.

  The plan just torpedoed by an unexpected pregnancy.

  He didn’t know what to do.

  He should have gone after her, should have chased her, instead of letting her run away, letting her think he wanted nothing to do with her. He didn’t know what he wanted, but he certainly did know he was a man who honored his responsibilities. It’d gotten him far in college, graduate school, and in his career. Unlike his father, it was who Matt was; someone who honored what he’d committed to.

  But you didn’t commit to her, nor she to you, a part of him argued. No. It didn’t matter that they’d made no promises, that they’d taken precautions. Except for that one time. He’d always known if something like this were to happen, he would make it right. Somehow.

  He would support whatever decision Amara made. If she wanted to keep the baby, he’d be there to help financially. Tingles raced up his spine. Being a true dad was another thing entirely. He admired how devoted Ben was to Wash, but Matt didn’t know if he had that in him. His own father certainly hadn’t.

  And Matt wanted his life structured exactly as he wished, determined by him and him alone. A child changed that instantly. Permanently.

  His breath hitched. Would she keep the baby? She was as independent as he, wanting no encumbrances. And he knew well enough the majority of this burden fell on her, no matter what promises he might make.

  He tugged at the collar of his shirt, which felt ten times smaller than it had an hour ago. He was to be a father. He, Matthew Adam Goodson.

  A door slammed somewhere in the building, jarring him out of his self-absorption.

  He needed to find Amara. Now.

  Cat nearly tackled Amara as she walked through the front door. “Where have you been? I was so worried!” Several customers watched curiously as Cat enfolded her in a giant hug. “Matt called, saying he couldn’t find you. I could tell from his voice you’d talked to him. What happened?” She backed up from Amara, her eyes troubled.

  Amara glanced around at the foreign eyes on her. “I do not mean to offend,” she whispered, “but may we speak when we are not in the company of others?”

  “Of course. Sorry. I’ve just been worried sick.”

  “No need. I am fine. But I’d like to rest.” Amara didn’t wait for a response before crossing to the back stairway and ascending the steps, anxious to hide away in her room. Sleep was not a permanent solution, but a short time free from the worries of the day sounded heavenly.

  Elvis, the cat, meowed as she entered the apartment, trotting after her and squeezing through the door to her room before she closed it. Amara had never paid much attention to cats, particularly. At Clarehaven, they lived outside. But as she settled into bed and the animal curled up at her side, she had to admit the unconditional acceptance and affection from the furry feline was exactly what she needed. If only she could be so accepting of herself.

  “You texted she’s here?” The words burst out before he could stop them as he sprinted into the Treasure Trove.

  Cat looked up from a customer, giving Matt a curt nod and a warning with her eyes. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  Good reminder. No need to air his dirty laundry in front of everyone. The store was busier than he’d expected, families and college students milling about. In the corner, Emily whipped up coffee drinks for tired shoppers. For lack of anything else to do, he walked over and ordered one. He wanted to race upstairs, to find Amara right away. But this wasn’t his store, wasn’t his home. He had to wait.

  He sat down on the faded green sofa, cup in hand, and stared into the flames of the fireplace. How was it that life was so different than it’d been just six weeks ago? Not only because of Amara’s unexpected, and admittedly unwelcomed, news. But because of her appearance in his life. She’d taken him by storm, this puzzling, adorable woman who’d kissed him on first sight, agreed to a no-strings-attached connection, wormed her way into his emotions when he wasn’t lookin
g—then turned his world completely upside down with her announcement today.

  One month ago, he’d been fretting to Ben about the new hiring committee and the falling enrollment in the database classes. Those concerns seemed laughable now.

  The door opened again, and Ben came in, Wash in his arms. He greeted his wife, pressing a kiss to her lips before dropping a second on his son’s head. The boy reached out for his mother, his face lighting up as she took him into her arms.

  For a second, Matt pictured himself in Ben’s place, Amara before him, their child between. Panic seized him, as well as a tiny, unsettling sense of peace, of rightness. Of calm. The panic he’d expected; the other, not in the least. Could that be his future with Amara, the happiness he saw between Ben and Cat?

  The Coopers, however, had had months to develop their relationship and build a strong foundation. They’d been married a year before they’d gotten pregnant. That was vastly different than considering a future with a woman Matt barely knew, a mere month after they’d met.

  And a future with him was not on her priority list. She’d released him from all responsibilities, didn’t want anything to do with him. Had she meant it? Or had she spoken in the heat of the moment? She’d been angry and rightly so; he’d essentially accused her of sleeping around.

  He had a lot to make up for.

  He waited as Cat chatted with Ben, impatient to speak with her but not wanting to be rude to his colleague. Ben’s brow suddenly wrinkled, and his brown eyes flashed to Matt’s. With a nod, he left Cat and crossed the room.

  “Hello, Matt.”

  “Hi.” Matt stood, as he always did when in the presence of his advisor. This, however, was a decidedly awkward situation.