Surprise Delivery(48)

Winding my way through the crowd, I turn a corner and stop short, my eyes wide, my stomach instantly churning. I feel my mouth go dry and my heart start to pound as I look into a pair of wide, dazzling green eyes I’d recognize anywhere.

“Alexis,” I say.

The color drains from her face and she looks like somebody staring straight at a ghost. She’s every bit as beautiful as I remember her to be and standing so near her, looking into those eyes that captivated me from the start, makes my heart swell.

It’s then I notice that she’s pregnant. Very pregnant. My mouth falls open and she puts her hands protectively over her belly, almost as if she’s trying to hide it. I look up at her, a million questions firing scattershot through my brain when a man I’ve never seen before angles himself between the two of us.

“Brad,” he says. “Brad Walker. And you are?”

I look at the man. He’s tall and in decent shape, I guess. He’s a little pasty, wears glasses, and has a beard. To me, he looks like maybe a high school science teacher or something. And judging by the aggressive way he’s staring me down, I’d say that he’s Alexis’ boyfriend. The father of her child.

I am beyond floored, to be honest. Looking at how pregnant she is, Alexis has got to be due any time now. Which means that she sure didn’t waste a lot of time after I left to get together with somebody. The whole time I was over there, I was pining for her. I was counting down the days until I could get back to her. I continued to revel in the connection we’d shared that night at the gala. I’d thought it meant something to the both of us.

So, imagine my surprise – not to mention my disappointment – to find out that the connection we shared didn’t even have a twenty-four-hour shelf life before she was on to the next guy.

“Doctor Duncan Clyburne,” I say. “I’m a – friend – of Alexis’.”

Brad looks me up and down and I can see his hackles rising. He’s quite obviously the jealous, territorial type. This bullshit macho posturing he’s doing is irritating me and I have to fight off the urge to put my fist through his face.

I know it’s an irrational response, and that I’m not really quite that irritated with him. I’m more pissed off about what he represents – the impediment to getting what I want. Alexis steps around Brad and is once again holding me fast with that penetrating gaze of hers.

“It’s okay, Brad,” she tells him.

“You sure?”

She nods and gives him a soft smile before returning that gaze to me. I’m once again struck by its power and the tsunami of sensations it unleashes within me.

“Duncan,” she says. “I – I didn’t know you were back.”

I nod, my eyes never leaving hers. “Yeah, just got back.”

Brad is standing there looking from her to me and back again, clearly feeling like a third wheel in all of this – and looking none too pleased about it. The electricity between us is still every bit as potent now as it was eight months ago and it’s leaving me dizzy. The fact that she’s pregnant, though, brings me back to reality and that wave of lightheadedness passes quickly.

“You’re – ummmm –” I start before my words fail me.

Color flares in her cheeks, twin spots of crimson on that perfect alabaster face. She looks down at the ground, unable to meet my eyes.

“Yeah,” is all she says.

I look to Brad who gives me a smug grin, as if patting himself on the back for getting her pregnant. The look on his face is that of a man who’s achieved some incredible accomplishment, rather than something any man with a cock and a working knowledge of basic, high school anatomy can do. It takes everything in me not to reach back and punch him.

We stand in awkward silence for a long moment, Alexis’ gaze still pinned to the sidewalk, Brad looking like the cat that swallowed the fucking canary, and me looking at her, not even sure what to say. I came home on the off chance that she was going to be available and willing to pick up where we left off.

I knew it was a roll of the dice when I chose to come home, rather than re-up. And it looks like I crapped out.

I can’t be mad. I can’t be upset. I have no right to be. I have no claim to Alexis and she’s free to see whoever she wants to see and do whatever she wants to do. Even though I have no right, I still can’t help but feel stung by how quickly she got back out there after I left.

That night at the gala, I got the impression from her that she wasn’t on the market and wasn’t looking for anything. That she wasn’t interested in anybody else and that she didn’t see that status changing anytime soon. Though she never said it, I kind of got the impression that she’d be waiting for me when I got home.

Obviously, my impression was wrong. Way wrong.

“So, how was Syria?” she asks, finally looking at me again.

I clear my throat. “It was a unique experience,” I answer. “It taught me a lot.”

“We should really get going,” Brad says, his voice tinged with impatience.

Alexis gives him a look I can’t interpret, but it seems to be an expression of annoyance to me. Brad falls silent and glares daggers at me before looking away.

“H – how have you been, Duncan?” she asks.

Other than having all the plans I’ve been making in my head ripped out from under me?