Page 42 of Perfect Persuasion (Love’s Second Chance #2)

“Positive. And Derek’s being great too.” At that moment, Caesar pushed his way in through the partially closed bedroom door, offering up a noisy meow as if to announce himself.

“Caesar too,” she added with a smile as the cat waddled over to her bed and jumped up, purring crazily and rubbing against her arm.

“He sleeps with me most nights. Derek’s jealous because I’ve stolen him. ”

“Don’t you find it a little strange to have a famous actor living in the same house as you?” Sophie put in, moving on to a less confrontational subject. “What’s he like?”

“He’s the sweetest man.” Claire laughed, thinking of how he played Go Fish and watched movies with her.

She lowered her voice. “At first it was strange, but he’s just like anyone else.

I really think he’s lost right now. He’s a recovering alcoholic and he’s in the middle of a bad divorce.

He told me all about it. His soon-to-be ex-wife, Trina Wade, sounds like a horrible person.

He’s lucky to be rid of her, although I don’t think he’s realized that yet. ”

“The world is full of breakups, make-ups, and heartaches,” Sophie said with a sigh. “I can’t believe I was lucky enough to find Trevor. My life has been so happy with him.” She grabbed Claire’s hand and gave it an impulsive squeeze. “I want that same kind of happiness for you.”

“I know.”

“I’m just not sure that you’ll be able to find it with Logan.”

Neither was Claire, but she had decided not to let her doubts hold her back anymore. If there was even a chance that she could be with Logan, she had to go after it, seize it, do whatever she could with it.

“I want to be able to find it with him,” Claire said softly. “I’m going to do my best to do it.”

“Then I wish you luck.” Sophie’s eyes were still clouded, but the smile curving her lips was genuine.

“I have a feeling I might need it,” Claire returned. “Thanks, Soph. I know Logan’s not your first choice for me, but I appreciate that you’ve supported my decisions from the beginning.”

“Hey.” Sophie gave her an awkward half-hug so that their bellies didn’t collide. “That’s what sisters are for.”

Claire was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands clenched in her lap, trying to maintain a sense of calm.

After Sophie had left and Logan had brought her his very scrumptious chicken tacos, she’d gone to the bathroom to pee.

Except that she was fairly certain that her water had broken instead.

Deciding not to panic, she had cleaned up the bathroom and packed her overnight bag, including an outfit her mother had bought for the baby.

The baby.

God, it was hard to believe—almost impossible to believe, really—that soon she would be dressing her own child in the soft white outfit dotted with ducks, putting booties on the little feet, the matching cap with the yellow tassel on a little head.

She was going to be a mother. Suddenly, the reality of it all washed over her with an emotion so powerful her hands trembled.

She doubled over as a contraction hit her more forcefully than any she had experienced up until now. It was about another two weeks to her due date, but Baby Thumper didn’t seem to care. He or she was on the way.

“Claire, I made you a cup of tea.”

She glanced up to find Logan striding into the room, teacup in hand. “It’s some kind of orange spice something-or-other. I hope you don’t mind. I’m out of the other stuff. What’s the matter, sweetheart? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

Before she could so much as blink, he was on his knees in front of her, his big hands on her knees. “Claire, sweetheart, say something.”

The contraction abated and she looked down into his starkly beautiful face. When she saw the worry carved in lines around his eyes, on his forehead, she put her hands atop his. “I’m fine and so is the baby, but I think Baby Thumper’s a little anxious.”

“What do you mean?” His fingers tightened on her knees.

“Logan, my water broke.”

“What?” He looked around in comical bewilderment. “Where? When?”

She smiled softly. “About half an hour ago, I think, in the bathroom.”

“Half an hour ago?” He shook his head. “Jesus Christ, Claire, why didn’t you say something? We have to get you to the hospital. Now.”

He shot to his feet and began pacing the room like a caged tiger. “We have to pack your overnight bag.”

“Did it.”

“And call your sister and your mother.”

“Good point. But that can wait until we get to the hospital.”

“True.” Logan raked a hand through his hair. “Can you walk, sweetheart, or do you want me to carry you?”

She couldn’t quite contain the giggle that rose in her throat. His concern was so charming, so sweet. “I don’t think you can pick me up right now. Besides, I can walk just fine. There have only been a few contractions so far.”

“Contractions? You’re having contractions?” Logan looked and sounded as if he were about to have a heart attack.

“It’s okay.” She stood and walked to him, looking up into his eyes. “Everything that’s happening is normal. Don’t worry.”

“How can I not worry?” His voice sounded hoarse, almost desperate. “I’ve never done this before. I have no idea what to expect and it scares the hell out of me.” He paused. “Should you be standing up right now?”

“Standing is fine now that I’ll be having the baby,” she assured him. “Besides, it feels so good to stretch my legs.”

“Why don’t I help you downstairs and then you can stay with Derek while I load up the car?” Logan suggested, still looking as worried as before.

She allowed him to help her downstairs, not because she needed the assistance but because it seemed to make Logan feel better to be holding on to her.

He bellowed for Derek when they reached the first floor and Derek came running from the kitchen, a half-eaten taco in his hand. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

“Her water broke,” Logan informed his friend, seeming to think that the contractions had affected Claire’s ability to speak for herself. “Watch her while I go back up and get her overnight bag, will you?”

Before Derek could so much as nod, Logan shot back up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Grinning, Claire turned to Derek. “He’s a little worried.”

“He cares, Claire,” Derek said pointedly.

The way Logan was reacting confirmed Derek’s words. But the real question was how much did he care? And was his concern mostly for the baby, or for her too?

Logan practically launched himself down the stairs then, carrying a large canvas tote.

Claire bit her lip. “Logan, that’s the wrong bag,” she told him, feeling guilty for making him run all the way back upstairs again.

But she couldn’t take the bag of books she’d brought with her to keep her occupied during bed rest and not her clothing.

“It’s the green one with the leather that’s supposed to look like croc. ”

“Shit.” Without another word, he turned and took the stairs three at a time.

Claire stifled a giggle. “He’s trying so hard.”

“Maybe a little too hard,” Derek returned with a grin of his own. “I’ve never seen him so…”

“Eager to help?” she finished.

“I was thinking more along the lines of lost, like a cat chasing its tail, but call it what you will.” Derek’s grin faded. “Seriously though, take care of yourself and Baby Thumper.”

“I will.” Another contraction slammed into her and she unconsciously reached out and grabbed Derek’s free hand, her fingers tightening. “Contraction,” she said apologetically.

“Strong grip,” he said with a wince.

“Wimp,” she accused without heat. She made an effort to loosen her grip.

Logan rushed down the stairs, her large green bag in his hand this time. “Got it.” He held it up in triumph, slightly out of breath. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” She bit her lip to keep from telling him to stop asking her if she was okay. His intentions were good, and he looked so worried and yes, lost, like Derek had said.

“Derek, where the hell are my keys?” he barked.

“How the hell would I know?” Derek returned, taking a bite of taco. “Where did you put them?”

“Jesus, I forget.” Raking a hand through his hair, he started for the kitchen. “On the island, I think.”

A few seconds later, he was back, rushing into the living room. “I think I might have put them on the coffee table,” he called over his shoulder.

Derek and Claire shared a smile. It was vastly entertaining to see Logan so undone when he was almost always in total control of everything in his world. He’d certainly never forgotten where he put his keys before.

He rushed out of the living room, still empty-handed except for her overnight bag. “Goddamn it, I can’t find the bastards.”

As he paced by them again, a musical jingle could be heard coming from one of his pockets.

“Ah, Loge?” There was a huge grin in Derek’s voice.

Logan spun on his heel, turning to face his friend. “What the hell do you want? Can’t you see I’m looking for my keys?”

Derek cleared his throat. “I know. What’s that noise coming from your pocket?”

A look of dawning understanding washed over Logan’s face. He reached into his right pocket and extracted the elusive key ring. “Damn. I feel like such an ass.”

“Probably because you are one,” Derek offered with a cheeky grin.

“Go to hell, Shaw,” Logan growled, taking Claire’s arm.

“Probably will someday,” Derek acknowledged, sounding grim. “But not yet.”

“I’d love to stay and bicker with my jackass of a best friend, but you and I have a baby on the way.” Logan tugged Claire to the door. “Can you make it out to the car, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Logan.” She dutifully trailed in his wake.

“Good luck,” Derek called around a mouthful of taco. “Call me and keep me posted. I’d like to know as soon as I’m an uncle.”

“That can be Logan’s job,” Claire returned, looking back at him over her shoulder. “I’ll probably be busy at that point.”

“I understand.” Derek cocked his head. “Would it be too much to ask that if it’s a boy you name him after me? I’ve always liked the idea of a little Derek Junior running around somewhere.”

“Derek Junior,” Logan growled. “Go eat your goddamn taco.”

The door closed on the sound of Derek’s laughter.