Shameless (25 page)

Eric paused before nodding his head.

“Good, now get the hell out of my way.”

He quickly stepped aside.

Trey glanced at a picture of Sierra on a nearby table and snagged it, holding it up. “Forget you ever laid eyes on her, or I swear to God, you’ll wish you never had.”

He threw the door open, the noise ricocheting off the walls.     

Chapter Nineteen

Sierra had just hung up the phone after a long and arduous discussion with one of her board members about potential venues for the holiday fundraiser when the phone rang again, three short rings, indicating someone was buzzing up from the lobby. She wasn’t expecting company and she certainly wasn’t dressed for it. She considered ignoring it, but curiosity got the better of her.

She picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Sierra, can I come up? We need to talk.”

He needed no introduction; his voice still haunted her dreams at night and flooded her stereo’s speakers during the daylight hours. “What are you doing here?”

“Sierra, please, let me come up. We can’t have this conversation while I’m standing in your lobby.”

She considered her options, but realized she had none. She couldn’t send him home, not yet. “Fine. I’ll buzz you up. It’s suite 302.”

She stood and checked her hair in the wall mirror. It was a tousled mess and she hadn’t bothered with make-up after her earlier bout with morning sickness. She pulled her hair out of the elastic and finger combed it, but it still looked like she just hauled her butt out of bed to answer the door. That was the blessing and curse of working from home most days. She could wear her
pajamas
and hold off on showering and brushing her teeth until she felt like it. She panicked, trying to remember whether she had brushed after her last bout with the porcelain goddess. Thank God she had, not that she intended to get up close and personal with him.

A rhythmic knock on the door sent her into a fresh wave of panic. She looked at her clothes: black yoga pants and a cropped black hoodie that revealed at least two inches of her mid-section. She was seriously regretting her decision to forgo the tank top. She only hoped he attributed her slight weight gain to a healthy appetite or, better yet, didn’t notice at all.

She placed her hand over her stomach in a futile attempt to settle her nerves before she opened the door. “Hi, Trey.” She took a step back and ushered him inside. Taking a deep whiff of his cologne as he stepped inside, she cursed her weakness. She felt like a chronic dieter, desperate for a taste of a forbidden delicacy. She only hoped she had the willpower to resist, especially when her first instinct was to devour him whole.

He smiled, his eyes travelling up and down her body before finally settling on her face. “Did I catch you at a bad time, darlin’?”

She swallowed convulsively, trying to find the lost power of speech. “Uh, no, I was just...” She gestured toward the small desk in the corner. “Working,” she finished lamely.

He grinned again. “I thought maybe I’d dragged you away from a nap.”

Nap. Bed. This conversation and her thoughts were treading into dangerous territory. “No, I...”

What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she formulate a coherent sentence? Could it be the fact that she was keeping a life-changing secret from the man and he could find out at any moment? She glanced over to the desk where she had taped her ultrasound picture to one of the shelves. She was so busted.

He wandered around the small apartment, his hands shoved in the pockets of his leather bomber jacket. “Nice place you got here.”

She cleared her throat. “Thanks. Can I get you something to drink?” Her only thought was of getting him out of the room and away from the picture. Given the fact the apartment was small, that left only the kitchen. Unless of course you considered a bedroom with a big bed and a bathroom with a shower stall built for two, neither of which were a good option under the circumstances.

“No, I’m good. Thanks.” He took his jacket off and draped it over a nearby armchair.

She couldn’t help but notice his powerful chest and biceps beneath the tight cotton shirt. She didn’t know what it was about being pregnant, but her sexual fantasies had become more and more vivid and they always centered on this one man.

He settled on the small couch and propped a booted foot up on his bent leg. “Aren’t you gonna join me, sweetheart?”

At least if they were seated in the small living area, his back was to the desk and, for the moment, that was the best she could hope for. She finally claimed the armchair across from him, crossing her arms over her midsection. “Are you making progress on the album?”

“I am, actually. No one’s more surprised than I am, but it feels really good to be in a creative place again, ya know?”

She nodded. Her eyes traveled to his left hand. He was still wearing the wedding ring. Why? What did that mean? “I’m happy for you, Trey. I talked to Val last night; she sounded nervous, but excited, about the wedding.” She smiled. “That’s a really nice thing you’re doing for her.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s the least I could do, given all the years she’s been there for me.”

“Everything else is going well? Still going to meetings?” she asked.

He grinned. “What you really want to know is whether I’m drinking again.” He leaned forward and looked her in the eyes. “I’m not, Sierra. I swear I haven’t had a drink since the day you came back to town.”

She didn’t know why his words should give her a sense of satisfaction, but they did. No matter what happened between them, or whether he chose to be a father to their baby, she wanted to see him beat his addiction. “I’m glad to hear that, Trey.”

He stared at her a moment too long. “There’s something different about you. I can’t figure out what it is.”

Her heart began hammering in her chest. It was only a matter of time before he figured it out or saw the ultrasound picture. How was she going to make him understand? “I, uh, don’t know what you mean.”

His eyes scanned her body, as though he were looking for some clue to unravel the mystery. Finally, he shook his head. “I can’t put my finger on it.”

She took a deep breath and decided her best hope of keeping her pregnancy a secret was to get him out of her apartment and her life as quickly and painlessly as possible. “Trey, I have to get back to work. Why don’t you tell me what you’re doing here?”

He got up suddenly and walked toward her. “Come here,” he whispered, reaching down to pull her up and into his arms.

She tried to resist the temptation, but it was futile. She wanted nothing more than to feel his arms around her again.

He tightened his arms around her waist until one hand travelled up to the nape of her neck. His hand eased into her hair and he tilted her head back. “You are so beautiful, sweetheart,” he whispered.

She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy this moment. She felt his lips on her skin and he kissed her slowly, gently, reverently. She wanted to give in, to wrap her arms around him and savour the taste of his lips on hers, but that would only lead to more disappointment. “Trey, please stop.”

He pulled back to look at her. “Sierra, there’s something you need to know. It’s about the baby.”

She felt her airway constrict; she couldn’t draw enough air into her lungs. How could he know about the baby? She hadn’t told anyone, not even her sister.

“Megan isn’t pregnant. She lied to me.”

She let the words sink in. He was talking about Megan’s baby, not her baby. Only Megan apparently lied about the baby she didn’t have, while Sierra was lying about the baby she did have. How was he going to be able to understand, to forgive her for not telling him the moment she found out she was carrying his child?

“She told me today. She also told me Eric put her up to it.”

She was getting dizzy and the room started spinning. She grasped his shoulders for support.

“Hey, are you okay?” He stroked her face. “You look a little pale and you feel like you might have a fever, baby.” He eased her down on the chair, forcing her to sit down while he knelt in front of her. “Can I get you anything? Do you need a drink of water?”

She shook her head, biting her bottom lip. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered, dropping her head in her hands.

He stroked her back. “I know this must come as a shock...”

“You have no idea,” she mumbled.

“I went to see Eric.” He pulled her hands away from her face. “He told me something, but I need you to tell me if he was lying. Either way...”

She knew Eric had betrayed her confidence. Perhaps it was for the best; this would give her a chance to explain everything when the time was right. Maybe it would help him to understand the choices she had made. “He told you I couldn’t have any more children, didn’t he?”

He nodded, stroking her hair. “Is it true? I mean, even if it is, it doesn’t matter. I still want...”

“The doctors told me shortly after Callie died.”

He eased back to sit on the edge of the coffee table, facing her. “Why wouldn’t you tell me this? You confided in Eric, but you couldn’t tell me? Jesus, I was your husband. Didn’t you think I had the right to know?”

She tried to suppress the emotions bubbling up inside, guilt, anger, frustration. “When was I supposed to tell you, Trey? You were never there. Our daughter had just died. We buried her, and then you hopped on that damned tour bus. You didn’t care about me, about how I was coping with the loss.”

“That’s not true,” he whispered. “I thought it would be easier for you if I wasn’t around.”

“Easier?” she shouted. His words stoked the anger and frustration, quashing the guilt. “You thought it would be easier for me to clear out our daughter’s nursery by myself? You thought it would be easier for me to donate Callie’s things by myself? You thought it would be easier for me to erase her existence from our home if I were all by myself?” She pushed hard against his chest. “You selfish bastard, I cried myself to sleep every night. You weren’t there to hold me or comfort me. I was completely alone.”

He stood, trying to pull her into his arms, but she pushed him away. “I’m sorry, honey. I wanted to be there for you, but I didn’t know how to help you, how to take away your pain.”

“There was nothing you could have done to take my pain away, Trey. But at least you could have been there to hold me, to reassure me, to help me believe that life would go on.” She looked him in the eye. “Because I didn’t believe it would. I wanted to die too.”

He closed his eyes. “I know. I felt the same way, sweetheart.”

“Then the doctors told me I wasn’t going to be able to get pregnant again. Do you know what that did to me?”

He grabbed her hands, holding them between his as he kissed them. “I can only imagine.”

“You called me the day I found out. Do you know what you said to me?”

He shook his head, his eyes filling with un-shed tears.

“You said it would be okay. We’d have more babies. I knew that’s what you wanted and I couldn’t give it to you. I felt I had no choice but to leave.”

He dropped her hands, looking stunned. “Wait a minute. Are you saying that’s why you divorced me?”

She expected him to be disappointed she hadn’t had more faith in them, but he was beyond disappointed. He looked appalled. She knew there was no way to excuse or explain her decision. Her only choice was to own it and hope he could find a way to live with it. “That’s part of the reason. We were drifting apart already, but once I found out about my condition, I knew it was over for us.”

“Are you serious? You actually thought I wouldn’t want to be with you just because you couldn’t give me a baby?”

She refused to confront the fury in his eyes. “It was more than that.”

“Like hell it was. Look at me,” he shouted. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

She shook her head. She thought she did, but maybe she was wrong. Maybe he had loved her enough to overlook her shortcomings.

“I would have given anything to make our marriage work. Counseling, AA meetings, hell, I would have given up my career if that’s what it took. But you never gave me the chance. You just walked away and never looked back. How could you do that to me, to us?”