Page 75 of Her Christmas Wish

“Are you...”

What, pregnant? She held his gaze. Felt a need to defend herself. With no opposition coming at her.

“It’s too soon to tell.”

He nodded. That series of short bobs that covered up so much. And continued to hold her gaze. As though they could somehow both disappear from the situation. Or it would disappear. All of it. The past.

Those seconds on the beach.

The huge question hanging there without an available response.

“But you could be.”

She nodded.

“How likely?” She used to be super irregular. He’d known that once. Had been attentive to certain plans, and wonderfully kind and attentive when she had bad cramps.

The memories washed over her.

And the truth came out. “I’ve regulated over the years as I aged. Like clockwork.”

“And?”

“Timing is right for me to have been ovulating.” There. He could blast her all to hell. Accuse her of trapping him.

She’d clearly been the aggressor. She couldn’t blame him for being suspicious of her motives. What a hell of a get back, right? He breaks your heart, ruins your life plan, humiliates you with a cancellation two days before the wedding—and ten years later you trap him by forcing him to be a part of the reason he’d walked away.

Sage hugged her arms. But didn’t turn away again. She was a lawyer. She had his argument already worked out for him. Would take it with her head held high.

Tell him she hadn’t planned a second of it. Would never have trapped him. And leave him to believe what he might.

Better that he think her duplicitous and walk away than that he stick around and feel trapped.

Gray’s lips pursed. He’d been standing there nodding, his gaze blank. Eventually, those piercing brown eyes seemed to focus on her again.

“When are you due?”

That was it? He was going to take it on the chin, like he had everything else in his life? Keep it inside, and then, when he got to the point of suffocating, take off again?

“Next week.” He’d probably already figured that. A woman’s cycle wasn’t all that much of a mystery.

“Okay, well, keep me posted.”

Hands still in his pockets, Gray turned and headed slowly back down the beach.

Sage watched him. Tears in her eyes.

Wanting to call him back.

But didn’t.

There was nothing she could say to make things better.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Gray didn’t sleep. He tossed and turned. Dozed and woke up with a start, heart pounding. Several times. At three, he got up, slipped into sweats and a long-sleeved shirt, grabbed his flip-flops, and tiptoed to the back door.

Making it outside without alerting Morgan.