Doctor's Secret: A Secret Baby Romance

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Doctor's Secret: A Secret Baby Romance Page 17

by K. C. Crowne


  He was lying – I could sense it. But I wasn’t about to get into an argument on the phone in the middle of a coffee shop.

  “Fine,” I said. “She can hang out with whoever she wants.”

  “Right. Not like she’d accept it if you were to tell her she wasn’t allowed to. Annie’s as independent as they come.” A beat of silence passed. “That’s all I had for you, Duncan. I’m going to smooth things out with Annie. And I suggest you do the same. There’s no reason this has to be so confusing.”

  “I’ll take that into consideration.”

  “I hope you do. Talk to you soon.”

  I hung up and set the phone on the table. The conversation didn’t sit well with me. Andrew, displaying a set of balls I almost had to admire, had called to accuse me of dishonesty while lying through his teeth about why he was meeting with Annie. Not a chance in hell it was simply to catch up.

  I grabbed my coffee and left the shop, pulling up the collar of my pea coat against the bracing cold wind that hit me the moment I stepped outside.

  What would happen when they met? Would Annie remember why she’d dated Andrew to begin with? Would he win her over like he’d done once before? What if my plan to get together with Annie ended with her starting her relationship anew with Andrew?

  It was enough to make me feel ill. Hell, that was an understatement. I was pissed.

  I needed to do something to take my mind off the conversation. So, hands in pockets, I headed down the main street of town, taking in the sights of the quaint downtown of White Pines. It was another reminder of why I’d moved there. There were all sorts of mom-and-pop stores, from candy shops to bookstores to everything in between. It was a far cry from the chains and condos of Denver.

  One store caught my eye – Grace’s Music Store. I remembered what Annie had said about her love for music, her passion for the violin. Personally, I didn’t know a damn thing about playing an instrument. But I wanted to get something for her, a little gift to let her know I was thinking about her.

  A small bell chimed as I stepped into the shop, the scent of the pine and cedar from the instruments rushing up to greet me. A trim, pretty woman was behind the counter and let me know she was there if I needed help.

  I immediately spotted what I wanted to get. It was a beautiful music stand, hand-carved out of rosewood, the finish of the wood a glossy sheen. It was perfect.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, I took it to the front counter and made the purchase. It was pricy, but I didn’t give a single damn about that.

  A surge of confidence ran through me, a pleased grin spreading across my face as I stepped back out into the cold.

  Was I now in a competition with my own brother for Annie?

  If so, I had two words for him.

  Game on.

  Annie

  “Is he there yet?”

  The message blinked onto my phone as I sat at a back table in the bar where I was to meet Andrew. The place was low-key, a classy wine bar where White Pines professionals done with a day at the office could mingle with upscale tourists.

  “You’ll know he’s here when I stop messaging.”

  I shifted nervously in my seat, my fingers on the base of my martini glass. So Andrew wanted to meet. It might not be all that bad. What if he simply wanted to make sure we were on good terms? There were worse things in the world than being friends with an ex, after all. And truth be told, how Andrew and I left things had always left a bad taste in my mouth, like there was unfinished business we’d been ignoring.

  Him coming back into my life in that way wasn’t what I’d expected, but maybe it would be for the best.

  “Just don’t fall for it,” Gia advised. “I bet you anything he’s going to try to smooth-talk you into dating him again.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Because guys are messed up that way. He might not’ve wanted you before, but now that he knows you’re with his brother? I bet that’s got him all kinds of competitive. It’s a dude thing.”

  I didn’t even know to say to that, and thankfully, I didn’t need to say anything. Andrew appeared at the entrance to the bar the moment I looked up from my phone. He was dressed in an expensive suit, the watch I’d bought him on his wrist, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

  He was all smiles as he made a beeline over to me.

  “OK he’s here!” I rapid-fire texted to Gia before taking my phone off the table and shoving it into my purse.

  When he arrived at the table, he simply stopped and gazed at me. “God, it’s good to see you. Come here.” He opened his arms and, not knowing what else to do, I stood up and hugged him.

  It was so strange being in his embrace. Andrew was quite different from his brother, but they both had the same solid built and tall stature. No doubt they were brothers by blood.

  “Here,” he said, handing the flowers to me. “A little something.”

  “Oh, how nice,” I said, taking them. “But it’s not necessary, Andrew. You know I’m not the type of woman who needs to be drowned in expensive roses.”

  He nodded, agreeing with me totally. “I know. And that’s one of the amazing things about you – that you don’t care about money or material things.” He smiled. “Well, aside from your cello.”

  “Violin,” I said, trying to fight back the urge to roll my eyes. Andrew had never cared about my music, always viewing it as a distraction from something I could do that might actually make me money.

  “Right,” he said, sitting down. “Close, though – right? Wood thing with strings.” He sat down and flagged over the waitress. “Two Moscow Mules, please.”

  I raised my hand. “Actually, another one of these.” I tapped the rim of my glass. “Vodka martini, extra olives.”

  An expression of confusion appeared on his face. “What? You love Moscow Mules.”

  Now it was my turn to be confused. “Andrew, I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed one in my life. All that ginger gives me major heartburn.” I turned my attention back to the waitress, who seemed unsure what to do. “One Moscow Mule, one more of these.”

  She smiled, relieved that someone had taken the initiative.

  “And besides,” I went on, returning my gaze to him. “You know I don’t like it when people order for me.”

  He waved his hand through the air dismissively, as if I were hung up on some silly point that didn’t matter. “Anyway,” he said. “It’s great to see you.”

  I swallowed my bristling pride. “It’s…good to see you too, Andrew.” I glanced at his watch – the one I’d gave him. “Nice watch,” I said with a smile. “But not exactly what I’d expect to see you wearing.”

  He grinned. “You’re right. You’d probably think a guy making the kind of money I do would trade this thing in for a Rolex the second I could. And I did. One of the first big purchases I made when the money started rolling in was a gorgeous Rolex driver watch. I got home, tossed this one into a drawer, put on the Rolex, and checked myself out in the mirror, ready to see how freaking good I looked.”

  The story, if you could even call it that, was pure Andrew. But I heard him out.

  “And…” he shook his head “…it didn’t look right. I took it off, tossed it on the dresser, and put yours back on.” He smiled. “And that’s what looked right. It reminded me of you, of how it didn’t matter how expensive your clothes were, how fancy your watch was. What really mattered was something as simple as the thought the woman you loved put into her gift.”

  OK, it was pure Andrew. But it was sweet, in his own way. And for a materialistic guy like him, it was a big step.

  The waitress set the drinks on the table. I finished my first one and passed the empty glass to her, but not before removing the olive-covered toothpick and plopping it into my fresh drink.

  “I’ve been a total jackass,” he said after she’d left. “All this time I was certain it was money and success that would make me happy. But it isn’t.” He reached across the table and took my h
ands into his. My body tensed up, my eyes widening. “It’s not money at all. It’s love.”

  He let his words hang in the air, my gaze drifting down to his big hands totally covering my own. Slowly, I slipped them out from underneath his.

  “That’s…really sweet of you to say, Andrew. And I’m seriously glad to hear that you’ve learned there’s more to life than money.”

  He smiled and shook his head again. “But enough about me. What about you? Have you found a new job yet?”

  “I did. Doing some writing for a classical music magazine.”

  “Wow,” he said. “That sounds right up your alley. Probably doesn’t pay a ton, but that’s no problem. It’s not all about money, right?”

  I tensed up, annoyed at how inelegant he could be with his words.

  “It’ll be a good stepping stone to whatever’s next. No reason you have to spend too much time making peanuts.”

  “Wait, didn’t you just say money doesn’t matter? What if I love doing what I’m doing?”

  “Well, money doesn’t matter. But it also really, really does. It’s important to be comfortable, to be taken care of. And…that’s part of the reason why I’m here.”

  “And why are we here, Andrew?”

  He sipped his drink, and I could sense he was preparing for what to say next. “Because I want us to be together again.”

  And there it was. His words tumbled out of his mouth like a procession of bowling balls, landing with thuds and crashes on the table.

  It was like everything came to a standstill. Sure, in the back of my mind I’d been preparing for something like this. And the flowers he’d sent – not to mention the ones lying flat on the table at that very moment – weren’t exactly a subtle statement of intent.

  But hearing him come out with the words…was something else.

  “You…what?”

  “I want to be together again.” He repeated the words, this time with more confidence. “Annie, it was a total mistake for us to break up.”

  “A mistake you made,” I was quick to add.

  “That doesn’t matter. I screwed up, and you did too.”

  “Wait, how did I screw up?”

  “By just letting it happen. When I broke up with you, you didn’t try to fight for me or anything. You simply said okay, packed your things, and moved to White Pines.”

  “I wasn’t aware I was supposed to fight for you,” I scoffed. “See, I’m big on this thing called taking people at their word. You ended our relationship because your job was more important than me. Which I’ll admit hurt like a bitch at first.”

  He said nothing, a slightly worried expression on his face, as if he knew I was in the middle of telling him something he wouldn’t like hearing.

  “But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was for the best. You and me, Andrew, we weren’t meant to be together. It took you breaking up with me for me to realize it.”

  “It doesn’t have to be like that,” he insisted, leaning forward. “I mean, think about it – I’m doing well for myself, and you’re in a spot in your life where you’re still figuring things out. We get along great, and we’ve got good chemistry in the bedroom.”

  “Oh, you mean the chemistry where you thought two-and-a-half minutes of missionary constituted satisfying sex?” I couldn’t believe I said that out loud. After they slipped out, I looked around, noticing that a handful of people had stopped their conversations and were regarding us with expressions of surprise. “What?” I asked out loud. “It’s true!”

  Andrew’s eyes flashed. “Annie! Keep it down!”

  I didn’t want to attract any more attention, so I lowered my voice as my gaze returned to him. “But I’m serious, Andrew – we dated and we broke up, and when we broke up, it was for the best. If you’re looking back on what we had and seeing things that weren’t there, then there’s nothing I can do. Because when I look back, I see some good times, sure, but mostly two people who were dating for as long as they did because of inertia.”

  “Inertia? That’s all our relationship was to you?”

  “It…it was more than that,” I admitted. “But it ended and that’s that – it’s not coming back.”

  He looked hurt. Actually, to say he looked hurt was like saying a kid was disappointed when he found out Santa wasn’t real.

  “That’s how you feel?”

  “That’s how I feel.”

  “So what, now you’re just going to run off and date my brother? That’s some really sick shit, Annie.”

  “It’s not sick – I had no idea who he was.”

  He snorted and smirked mockingly. “Yeah, and I’m sure he didn’t have any idea, either.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Come on, Annie. Do you really think Duncan just happened to end up dating my ex-girlfriend?”

  “He said you didn’t really tell him about me.”

  “That’s right, I didn’t. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t look you up or happen to come across a picture of the two of us on social media. You’re a smart girl – do you really think this is some kind of coincidence?” He got up, opening up his wallet and tossing a pair of twenties on to the table. “I’m paying for these drinks, like it or not. And think about it, Annie. I don’t give a damn what he told you – you know he’s lying. He scammed his way into your life, and now you’re choosing the liar over the man who knows you, who cares about you. This was your chance. I hope you can live with your decision.”

  He turned, walked away, and was gone.

  And I was left alone with my thoughts. Was he right? Had Duncan planned this? Lied to my face?

  If so, maybe Andrew was right.

  Duncan

  All I wanted was to see Annie again, but she didn’t seem to feel the same way. My perfect little plan seemed to be blowing up in my face, and there was nothing I could do.

  Back at my house, I checked my phone as if I might’ve missed a text from Annie between then and two minutes ago, when I’d last checked. Nothing.

  I needed to see her. The more time that passed, the more certain I was that she’d soured on me after what I’d done. But without seeing her, without hearing it from her mouth, I couldn’t be sure.

  The music stand I’d bought for her was in the corner of the living room, a red bow wrapped around it. I’d had big plans for that thing, imagining a romantic night with her, just the two of us. Maybe it’d be the night I told her how I felt, the night I told her how much she meant to me.

  Or maybe I’d never get that chance.

  I didn’t like how I felt, all nervous and keyed-up. It was the state of uncertainty that was doing me in. I needed to know how she felt – one way or another. Phone in hand, I pulled up her number and hit call. It rang and rang, each ring making my stomach a notch tenser.

  “Hey! This is Annie. I can’t remember the last time I got a voicemail, but if those are your thing, go ahead and leave one after the beep. Otherwise, text me and I’ll get right back to you.”

  A beep followed, and I jammed my phone back into my pocket.

  I had to see her. If she was pissed off at me, wanting to end it all between us, that would kill me. But I had to hear it from her. I grabbed my keys and was off, the sun setting as I drove down into town. When I pulled up in front of her apartment building, a light on in her window let me know she was there.

  I typed one more text.

  “I’m here. Come talk to me.”

  No response.

  I called.

  No answer.

  I didn’t know what to do. Short of kicking the door down and barging in like a crazy person, I was out of options. I leaned back against my car, trying to figure out my next move. Just as my butt hit metal, my phone shook in my pocket. I quickly took it out and saw a text from Annie.

  “What do you want?”

  I fired off a response right away.

  “You know what I want – to see you.”

  It wasn’t exactly a sign s
he was happy to see me.

  “Fine. Come on up.”

  The buzzer to her apartment sounded, cutting through the otherwise quiet evening. I hurried through the door and up to her apartment. I knocked, and she opened.

  As always, she looked heartbreakingly beautiful. Annie was dressed simply, in a pair of black jeans and an orange-yellow button-up shirt.

  “Hey,” she said weakly, her expression so downcast it was almost blank.

  “Hey.” Part of me didn’t care that I was most likely going to get some bad news – I was simply that thrilled to see her. “Can I come in?”

  She gave a quick nod before stepping aside and gesturing toward the interior. The scent of Chinese food was the first thing I noticed. There was a spread on the kitchen table of a few different dishes, more than one person could eat.

  Did she have company? Had Andrew been there? Was that the reason why she hadn’t been in contact?

  I filed all of those questions away, focusing on the fact that I was there with her. Nothing else mattered.

  “You hungry?” she asked, seeing that my attention was on the food.

  “Not really. That’s…some variety there.” I winced internally, frustrated at myself for not being able to resist asking about it.

  “Um, I was feeling indecisive.”

  She wasn’t a great liar. That made two of us.

  I shut the door behind me and we sat down. For several long moments, neither of us said a word.

  “I’ve missed you,” I said into the silence, figuring I’d start off the conversation with some truth.

  She nodded. “Yeah. Same to you.”

  “Where have you been?” I asked. “I’ve been trying to get in touch.”

  It wasn’t the real question on my mind, but it was a good place to start.

  “Sorry for not responding,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I…didn’t know what to do. I guess I needed some time to think.”

  “I understand,” I said. “Especially after what happened. But I have to admit, I thought things were okay between us after the last time we talked?”

  “They were. Then…I met Andrew for a drink.”

 

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