by M. S. Parker
“Why?” he said once more, moving closer.
“I guess the fact that I’m asking you isn’t enough.”
He reached up and cupped my cheek. His touch was soft and so was his voice as he said, “Three years ago? Even two years ago…a year ago…hell, yeah. I would have done just about anything for you to show back up in my life, and I would have given you anything you wanted. But now, when I finally put myself back together, you show up out of nowhere and I’m just expected to…what…act like nothing has changed? No time has passed? Why should I listen, Maya? Why should I care?”
Throat aching, I looked away.
“No.” He shoved his hands into my hair, craning my head back and forcing my gaze back to his. “You look at me. I want an answer.”
It didn’t hurt. Even in his anger, he took care.
But the sheer dominance of the gesture was enough to have my heart pounding in my throat.
“Why?”
“Because I’m pregnant!”
Oh. Shit.
Glenn let go of me as if I were contagious, backing away so fast, he bumped into a chair and nearly tripped. “You’re…what…who’s is it?” he demanded.
Now I knew real dread.
Swallowing, I rubbed my belly and looked away. How could I explain this? “It’s yours, Glenn.”
“Wait…no. Unless you’re just guessing…or were you planning on getting pregnant?”
“No.” Miserable, I raised my eyes to his. “I am pregnant. I know it for a fact.”
“Then it can’t be mine.” He looked a little sick, shaken. And hurt inside. As he went to turn away, I rushed over but he backed out of my reach. “You don’t want to touch me, Maya.”
“The baby is yours, Glenn. You…I…” Screaming quietly, I shoved my hands into my hair and pulled before looking back at him. “You’re not going to want to hear this. You’re not going to want to believe it. But I can’t lie about this. Glenn…I’m not from…I’m not from your time. I was born than fifty years from now. In my time, you and Florence, Peter…you’re all gone.”
He cocked a brow. “Interesting story.”
“It’s not a story!” I shouted. “In a couple of years, Martin Luther King, Jr will be assassinated. Interracial will become legal. You want to know why I don’t want you enlisting? Because we lose the war, Glenn! We lose, and hundreds of thousands of men die! And those are just our own. Others—innocent civilians are killed—by American soldiers!”
He went to snort and I slapped him. The fury and fear and desperation exploded out and I couldn’t stop it—my hand was just cutting through the air and it just happened. His head flew to the side from the impact, then he was looking at me with burning eyes, the imprint of my hand a vivid red.
“It’s not a story,” I said again, softer, but the rage was still there. “I was at a movie set with my Uncle Daniel—fifty years from now. I picked up a locket—it was the one I always wore. Remember it?”
Something flickered in his eyes but Glenn clenched his jaw, and I knew he wasn’t listening to me. “I found Florence’s journal. I was reading it, and I fell. In my time, she actually did succeed when she tried to commit suicide—she died. “
“You’re crazy,” Glenn said, shaking his head. He went to go around me.
“Didn’t you ever wonder why in the hell I was always pushing you at her? Or how I knew she would be in trouble?”
He’d reached the door of the kitchen and at those words, he froze.
It was the only chance I’d get, I realized.
“You brought that journal to the house—it was on the nightstand the night you proposed. Something about the journal and the necklace sent me back and forth. I fell asleep, and I woke back up in my time.”
His wide shoulders shuddered. “Stop it, Maya,” he said.
“I was there for a few weeks—not that long. Then I found her journal—I went back to the house and found it in the place where Mrs. B was staying. You’d left your estate to Peter.”
He spun around. “He told you that?”
“No!” I shouted. “I read the damn will! Fifty years from now.”
“I…” He held up his hands. “No. I’m just…no. I’m not listening to this insanity, Maya. You need to get out of here, okay?”
He strode away and left me standing there, alone.
Dazed, I looked around the kitchen, at the breakfast he’d prepared, at the toast I’d popped into the oven.
A door slammed somewhere off in the distance. I flinched at the sound of it and wrapped my arms around my middle. Then, not knowing what else to do, I went to the phone and called Florence.
“Astor and I will be there as soon as we can,” she said softly.
“I…look for me on the road. I can’t stay in here,” I told her.
She started to argue.
I just hung up.
I’d tried. It had been terrible timing. But I’d done my best. I’d tried.
And he hadn’t believed me.
It was time to figure out how to live my life without him.
The story continues in the final book, Surrender To Temptation, the exciting conclusion to the Glenn Jackson Saga, coming in October.
Other Time Travel series by M.S. Parker
Fire & Honor (The Lightwood Affair Book 1)
Fear & Honor (The Lightwood Affair Book 2)
Love & Honor (The Lightwood Affair Book 3)
About the Author
M. S. Parker is a USA Today Bestselling author and the author of the Erotic Romance series, Club Privè and Chasing Perfection.
Living in Las Vegas, she enjoys sitting by the pool with her laptop writing on her next spicy romance.
Growing up all she wanted to be was a dancer, actor or author. So far only the latter has come true but M. S. Parker hasn’t retired her dancing shoes just yet. She is still waiting for the call for her to appear on Dancing With The Stars.
When M. S. isn't writing, she can usually be found reading– oops, scratch that! She is always writing.
For more information:
www.msparker.com
[email protected]
Acknowledgments
First, I would like to thank all of my readers. Without you, my books would not exist. I truly appreciate each and every one of you.
A big “thanks” goes out to all the Facebook fans, street team, beta readers, and advanced reviewers. You are a HUGE part of the success of all my series.
I have to thank my editor Lynette and my wonderful cover designer, Sinisa. You make my ideas and writing look so good.