Page 24 of Solid Ground

I’d thought I’d be there to party, but instead I’d found an unforgettable woman—one I’m too chicken to call.

The simple reality is that I have nothing to offer her.

Sure, I have money, but a woman like Zoe deserves the world. She deserves a man who hasn’t had such a messy past—one who can commit to her and keep his promises.

I’m not sure I can be that man.

But oh how I want to be.

And the whole time Nikki’s been blowing up my phone. I get it. She doesn’t want to lose a client like me. Even as my career tanked, my paydays were decent enough. But I just can’t do it anymore.

I haven’t had a holiday in years. Although I’m certain I’m done, the least I need is a break.

When the phone rings, I blow out a long, frustrated breath. Nikki’s the only person who’s been calling, so when I pick up and see Zoe’s name, I arch an eyebrow.

I pause before tapping accept. “Hello.”

“Declan, it’s Zoe.”

“Zoe?”Gotta play it cool.“Las Vegas Zoe?”

“That’s me. Las Vegas Zoe.” She laughs.

Wait. What’s she calling for? It’s been … two months.

My stomach sinks.

She couldn’t be … could she?

“What can I do for you?”

“I’m coming to Los Angeles and I wondered if we could get together for a coffee? There’s something we need to discuss.”

Shit.

I’ve had this conversation before. She’s pregnant. Last time, I was so drunk I couldn’t remember fucking the woman claiming she was having my baby. It turned out that that was because I hadn’t. She was in the right place at the right time, but on that occasion I’d had too much to perform.

But because she ticked two of those boxes, I’d still had to go through the whole paternity test thing and wait to make sure.

This time I have a clear memory of being with Zoe. The way her body moulded to mine, her response to every touch, and the way she tasted. Also, the way we used protection—we were safe. I made sure of it.

“Sure. Text me the place and time, and I’ll be there.” I’mshort with her—I know I am, but I’m not sure how to feel. Was this her plan all along?

“Thanks, Declan,” she says, and her voice sounds so sad.

I hate it when women cry—especially the ones I like. And yep, despite my inner turmoil, I like the woman. I can’t help it.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

There’s a pause before she responds, which makes my suspicions for why she’s calling a little more likely. “I’m fine.”

“Let me know when you get into town. I’m not working, so I’m free any time.” I want to see her—want to lay eyes on her again, and hear the words from her lips.

“Okay. Thanks. Talk soon.”

And then she’s gone, and I’m left in the quiet of this stupidly big house all alone in the Hollywood Hills.

I guess all I do now is wait.

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