Page 82 of The Toy Maker

This is bad. This is so bad.

Amy’s smirk grew, her gaze darting between me and Jason.

“This is too good.”

Jason was no help as I floundered for an explanation, “I was just tying my shoe and then?—”

Amy wasn’t buying it. “I knew you had to be sleeping with the boss.” She tilted her head. “I just thought it was Kitty.” Fire crawled up my neck. The idea of being with Kitty made my face flush.

Jason chuckled under his breath, and I had to fight the sudden, overwhelming urge to elbow him in the stomach.

Amy’s smug grin told me what she was already planning to do.

My chest tightened. I’d be known as the slut of all sluts, the queen slut, and not in a good way. “You can’t tell anyone,” I pleaded.

“Oh?” I could practically see the flames of hell reflecting in her eyes. “I really can, and I think I’ll do it right now. Starting with your little friends.”

She turned on her heel to spread her web of gossip when Jason finally spoke up,

“If you tell anyone about this,”—his voice was calm, dangerously so—“I won’t hesitate to kick your ass out of my business.” A sense of pride filled my heart. Even after disappearing on me, even after leaving me alone, he was standing up for me.

Amy’s jaw nearly fell to the floor. “You can’t talk to me that way. I’m pregnant.”

Jason didn’t even blink. “Unfortunately, you are.” This time, my mouth fell open as he continued, “And if losing your job isn’t enough of a consequence, if I hear that you so much as whispered about this to anyone, I’ll tell everyone who the real father of your baby is.”

I stared up at him, wide eyed.It’s not Lucas?

Amy’s smugness cracked. “Fine,” she gritted out. She tried to regain her composure, but it was clear she was visibly shaken up. “No one would believe you two are together anyway,” she added bitterly before stalking off.

The second she was gone, I turned to Jason.

“How’d you know about the baby?” I exclaimed.

He shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

I stared at him, searching for answers, but before I could press further, his hand settled on the small of my back.

“Come on.”

He led me down the hallway, toward an exit.

“Where—”

He cut me off, “Field trip.” The sun hit his bare chest, making me momentarily forget everything. Right then, he could have persuaded me to follow him off a cliff.

Instead, I followed him to the back of the building, where a sleek, hidden garage housed his expensive car. He pulled a shirt and shoes out of the trunk, letting me pretend not to watch as he dressed.

Then we drove in silence until he pulled into the packed parking lot of a familiar place.

“The mall?” I asked skeptically, raising a curious brow at him.

He found the only vacant spot within a ten-mile radius and cut the engine.

“We’re going shopping.” Jason left me in the car without further explanation, heading toward a boutique. I barely managed to catch up before the doors shut behind him.

He moved fast, weaving through departments with clear purpose.

“From now on,” he finally said, “you will dress for my convenience unless I say otherwise.”