Page 3 of The Summer We Kept Secrets (The Destin Diaries #4)

H ow? How in the name of all that was holy had she, Meredith Elena Lawson—the single most disciplined, organized, efficient, goal-oriented, five-year planner with no room for the slightest detour— let this happen ?

Well, she knew how it happened, but didn’t it happen to… other girls? Apparently, it could happen to smart ones, too.

Because she was looking at a faint, barely visible, but undeniable line that might as well spell out you blew it, baby.

Emphasis on baby .

She stared down at the pregnancy test in her hand—the fourth one she’d taken—as if sheer willpower could change the result, the stick quivering with every tremble in her body.

Very slowly, she lifted her gaze from the sink to the bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection, wishing someone else’s face would appear.

Someone…dumb. Someone…foolish. Someone who made really absurd decisions and fell into bed with a man who was super hot and super temporary and all wrong except for that one moment when he was just right.

But no, it was her. Meredith.

“Who are you?” she whispered to the green eyes that looked back at her. “And what did you do?”

One arched brow rose in judgment as a random dark wave nearly fell out of the claw clip that held her hair off her neck and shoulders.

The expression reminded her of Grandma Maggie, the queen of the raised brow. And at the thought of the judgmental and opinionated woman who’d always had a soft heart for Meredith, tears sprang forward.

Maggie would be devastated by this.

And Dad?

She gulped, not really able to think about her father.

Poor guy. He was currently up to his eyeballs taking care of the hot mess that was Jonah, the problem child.

To Eli, she was the kid who had it all together—the conquering 4.

6 magna cum laude superstar who’d just passed her boards and was ready to carry Acacia Architecture into the next generation.

She was also… pregnant .

With a groan , she dropped onto the closed toilet lid, looking around the pristine bathroom of her Buckhead apartment.

What was she going to do?

Absently, she clutched at the bathrobe that gaped open, glancing down at her tender breasts.

Their unexpected soreness had been her first sign that something wasn’t right. She’d checked the calendar, realized she was late, then looked back on the brief and lopsided “relationship” she’d had this past spring.

Oh, Trevor Whitlock hated protection, and he had persuaded her to skip it once. Could it be that easy? She had at least three girlfriends who were “trying” and taking ovulation tests daily. And she…

Yeah, always the overachiever, that was Meredith Lawson.

Just after taking the first test last night—she was sure it had to be wrong—her father had called with the devastating news that Jonah’s girlfriend had been killed.

After a sleepless and truly miserable night, she’d gone out at dawn, bought three more tests and now it could no longer be denied: the life she’d spent almost three decades meticulously building had just crumbled under the weight of this thin pink line.

And the only person who could help her was up to his eyeballs with his other dumb kid.

Closing her eyes, she stood and walked into the closet next to the bathroom, in a trance, unable to stop thinking about Dad.

Her dear, kind, deeply religious rock of a father who had raised her, loved her, trained her as an architect, and been both parents to her for fifteen years. Her closest confidante, her mentor, her hero.

What would Eli Lawson say when he found out?

She grunted and nearly folded to the hardwood floor. This would break him.

She took a few more breaths and tried to calm down, staring at the color-coded clothes, arranged by season, then fabric, then sleeve length.

Was this the closet of a person who has a really questionable relationship with a guy who told her from Day One that he wouldn’t be in town for long? Just a few months, Trevor had said. Then it’s off to the next Beans & Buns franchise he was buying, courtesy of what she imagined were rich parents.

She didn’t think Trevor was smart enough to build a business alone. He was certainly good-looking enough to catch her eye, though.

And his temporary situation was perfect, she’d decided on their first date. Meredith didn’t want to get married, but she needed…other stuff. She needed an escape from the pressure of her architecture boards, a distraction from work, a little pleasure in a life that had nearly none.

All such sorry excuses.

“Dumb,” she muttered as she grabbed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt to run an errand she so did not want to run. But she had to tell Trevor. And on a Sunday morning, she knew where to find the tall, charming, effortlessly sexy thirty-five-year-old entrepreneur.

And it sure wasn’t church.

She had to tell him. She didn’t want to tell him—she didn’t really want to ever see him again, which was why she’d been strategically avoiding the coffee shop on the lobby level of her office building.

And now, what started as a casual hang after work, then a drink, then making out to the point of dizziness had led to…a painstakingly planned life brought to a screeching halt.

She stuffed her feet into sneakers and glanced at the clock. It was nearly nine, which was the worst possible time to try and talk to a man who owned a coffee shop, but telling him had to be her very first move.

The ten-minute walk through Buckhead to her office building didn’t clear her head as she’d hoped it would.

Normally, the urban stroll made her feel invigorated for the day ahead, and so grateful to live and work in one of Atlanta’s most upscale neighborhoods.

Today, it felt like she was walking through mud and about to fall into molasses, each step heavier than the one before, her thoughts much louder and more distracting than any traffic on Peachtree.

She often came in on a Sunday—what self-respecting workaholic wouldn’t?—and knew that Beans & Buns was open and busy, with the franchise owner frequently working the front of the shop himself.

But today, as she rounded the atrium level to get to the street entrance, she didn’t see his casual smile or tousled chestnut hair at the coffee bar. Inside, she took a whiff of espresso and fresh cinnamon rolls, the very smell of the stuff making her stomach roll.

Or maybe that was the conversation she was about to have.

She stepped up to the counter, where a barista she recognized was making up an order. The young woman looked up with a wide smile.

“Hi, Meredith. I haven’t seen you in a while. Don’t tell me.” She pointed. “Medium iced oat milk brown sugar shaken espresso?”

Meredith sighed, knowing her favorite drink wouldn’t go down well. “Actually, I just need to see Trevor. Is he in?”

“Oh, yeah,” the girl said. “He’s in the back doing paperwork.”

“Can you get him? I’d like to talk to him for a minute.”

The barista nodded, finished her order, then disappeared into the back.

Meredith’s heart thumped in her ears. She suddenly felt warm and exposed and vulnerable. Her gaze scanned the lobby, grateful she wasn’t likely to run into anyone from Acacia Architecture on a Sunday.

Trevor appeared a moment later, wearing a backwards hat and his usual Beans & Buns shirt. Coming out from behind the bar, he gave her a surprised flicker of a look, which she’d expected.

They’d mutually decided their short relationship was going nowhere. His entrepreneurial spirit had attracted her and seemed like a great fit. Well, his looks and easy-breezy sex appeal had really attracted her, but it didn’t take long for her to spot that he was cagey. Distant. Even secretive.

They’d gone out for about a month, but he refused to answer enough questions that she’d broken it off and got no pushback from him.

She knew it was a mistake to get involved with him. But her close girlfriends were married and moving into the next phase of life, and all Meredith had ever done was work.

She should have stuck with that strategy, she thought glumly.

Go off plan…and get knocked up.

“Hey, Mer,” he said, giving her a quick once-over, probably because she never showed up in this building looking less than impeccable. “What’s up? I’m kinda slammed.”

“I’m sure you are,” she said. “But I need to talk to you. Privately.”

He raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “Okay. Outside?”

They stepped into the warm morning air, finding an empty table tucked next to a wall of hedges. A breeze rustled the shrubbery as Meredith sat, running damp palms over her jeans.

He perched on the other chair, looking like he might bolt at any second. “What’s going on?” he asked.

She met his gaze, clearing her throat. “I have to tell you something.”

Trevor’s face paled in a way that was more guilty than worried. He always had that furtiveness about him, which she really didn’t like.

“What? What is it?”

She swallowed what felt like a gulp of sand and stared down at the table, then back up at him. “I’m pregnant.”

He blinked, the slight bit of color remaining in his face completely gone, his jaw slack. “Wait…what? Are you serious right now? Is this some kind of joke?”

She considered a sarcastic “just kidding” response, but he didn’t deserve humor. He deserved to be smacked for pushing her to have unprotected sex because he liked it that way.

“It’s not a joke and, trust me, it’s not funny.”

He cursed under his breath, looking unsteady. “Wait, are you sure? I mean—how, Meredith?”

She sliced him with a look. He knew exactly how it had happened.

He pushed back, then whipped off his baseball cap to stab his hair with shaky fingers. “Whoa. This is really, really bad. I…can’t…”

Did he think she could ? What did that mean? “Look, I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I had to tell you first, so?—”

“I don’t care what you do.”

She blinked at him, startled by the response. “You don’t…”

“No, I don’t. I don’t know if it’s mine.”