Page 15 of Insta-Family (Forbidden Descendants 3)

“I remember,” he cut in stonily.

“O-oh.” For some reason, I hadn’t expected him to say that, so now I was all thrown off-balance and couldn’t recall what I’d planned to ask in the first place. “Well, uh, good. I mean…”

Argh, I really sucked at this.

Shaking my head and giving him a tremulous apologetic grin, I added, “I didn’t get a chance to speak with you at the funeral…”

Because I might have purposely avoided him at all costs that day.

But I had gone to the service with a couple of my coworkers, and none of them knew I’d—you know—had relations with Duke. I kind of really didn’t want any of them to know, either, so I’d avoided running into Vaughn while I was with the others because I’d had this unreasonable fear that he would oust me completely, pointing when he saw me and shouting in front of all the mourners: Hey, aren’t you that lady who had the one-night stand with my brother? Or worse. What if he pointed and said, YOU’RE the reason Duke’s gone.

So yeah, no way could I go anywhere near him that day and potentially get myself guilted for life.

“I saw you there,” Vaughn told me, making me feel even worse for avoiding him.

“Oh,” I repeated. “Well, I—I just wanted to express my condolences. I’m so sorry for your loss. I only knew Duke from Beriss for those eight months he worked there, but, uh, he was a very memorable guy. I think he packed more life into the office than everyone else combined.”

When I paused—because this was the point where the other person usually thanked you for your compassion and offer of comfort—Vaughn Merrill didn’t thank me at all. And he certainly didn’t appease my biggest fear that my being with Duke might’ve been what killed him.

Narrowing his eyes with suspicion, he merely said, “And?”

And?

“Uh…” Wow, he just kept jostling me with his unexpected and rudely abrupt responses. Not that I didn’t deserve them—you know, for possibly killing off his brother—but still.

“Well…” Clearing my throat before getting to the next part, I nodded, bolstering myself. “I was just wondering if you had a picture or two of him to spare that I could keep and, uh, if there’s anything about him you’d be willing to share with me. Just random, odds-and-ends facts that someone might put into—I don’t know—a scrapbook or…or something. Just anything. It would be really helpful.”

Vaughn didn’t answer for an uncomfortably long moment. Then he shook his head slightly, revealing his confusion. “I thought you said you hadn’t known him that well.”

“Yeah…” I started, frowning out my own bewilderment because why the hell was it any of his business. “Th-that’s why I’m asking for a couple of things to help me get a better picture of who he was in my head.”

“Why?” he asked bluntly.

Oh Jesus. I really hadn’t wanted to tell him why.

It was at that moment that I realized he’d never invited me inside. But it wasn’t his lack of manners that bothered me. It was me, standing outside in the open for anyone to hear me confess my life mistakes, that I wasn’t a big fan of.

Gritting my teeth, I backed up, stepped down off the first step to the front stoop and glanced left, then right.

No neighbors seemed to be out in their yards to listen in. So I sucked in more courage and turned back to Vaughn, easing back up the stairs.

“So the thing is,” I started in a rush. “I’m pregnant, and I just thought a tiny bit of information about the baby’s daddy would be nice to have on hand in case, you know, someday the little guy here actually asks about him.” I rubbed my belly and sent Vaughn a chagrined wince as I finished the whirlwind explanation, probably running the words together horribly in order to get them all out as fast as possible. “Can you help a girl out?”

He just stared at me. Again.

Then he blinked. “You’re pregnant?”

I refused to repeat anything, so I just bit the corner of my lip nervously and nodded.

“And you’re sure it’s his?”

I really had to work and get myself right with Jesus in order not to take exception to that question.

But once I finally calmed myself enough to answer rationally, I nodded. “Yes.”

“How?”

I’m sorry, what?

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