The Bachelor's Baby (Bachelor Auction Book 3)(23)

She would not turn into a hormonal mess, though. Even though her worst nightmare was being pregnant unexpectedly and having the father not only send her packing, but showing zero interest in his child.

How could he?

Thank God her driveway was so close. She could barely see, her eyes were welling so full. Sobs were backing up in her throat, suffocating her with pressure from belly to behind her eyes. Her breaths were starting to clog with the tears she was swallowing back, making each gasp a choke of anguish.

Bastard.

Not you, baby, she thought, having too much trouble staying in the ruts of the drive to take her hand off the wheel and pat her tummy. She tried not to project hatred at stupid, freaking Linc Brady. It was the worst sort of atmosphere for a growing fetus, but she hated him so much.

She managed to jerk to a stop next to Liz’s car, then felt her shoulders shake and buckle. Sobs started pushing themselves out. Tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Through the blur, she saw the door opening on the spa and Liz stepping out. She wore something like bib overalls and maybe some yellow rubber gloves on her hands, but Meg could hardly see her through the blur.

Oh God, how was she going to get through the next fifteen minutes as she told her family she was pregnant and the father didn’t want her baby? How would she get through the rest of her life?

I’m not interested. I don’t want kids.

Liz disappeared as a wall of black slid into place next to the passenger window.

Meg blinked, not sure what had just happened. Then she realized it was another vehicle, a black truck, parking next to her. The door opened. Linc’s plaid shirt and open sheepskin coat got out—

No, no, no. She gathered her scarf up to her face, desperately trying to stem the tears and pull herself together. Had he followed her? Been right behind her all the way down the drive and she didn’t notice?

“Meg,” he said, voice muted by the closed windows. His hand went to the passenger door.

No. She climbed out on the driver’s side, looking toward the house, the barn. Looking for escape.

“Meg, listen,” Linc said over the roof of the sedan.

Blake was coming toward them from the barn, using a blackened cloth to wipe his hands. “This is a surprise. What’s—” He paused as he got a look at her ravaged face, her panicked expression. “What the f*ck is going on?” He leveled a filthy look at Linc, so fierce and brotherly Meg wanted to cry for another reason entirely. “Liz, get in the house and call the police.”

“Whoa,” Linc said, tough and firm, holding up a hand. “We do not need the police. Meg, please tell your brother we don’t need the police. She just told me something, and I reacted badly, but I haven’t touched her. It was just an argument. And I only came to talk, Meg. You have to know what you said was a shock.”

Her silk scarf was covered in make-up and she actually used it to wipe her nose, thinking it was insult to injury because she liked this scarf and now she’d have to throw it away.

“Meg?” Blake prompted.

“We don’t need the police,” she managed to say, aching for privacy so she wouldn’t have to hold her emotions so hard in check. “But we don’t have anything to talk about, Linc. Just go.”

“Meg,” he persuaded, taking a step as though he planned to come around the hood toward her.

She retreated a step and Blake said, “Get in your truck and leave, or we will call the police.”

“Meg, come on,” Linc said, not moving, paying no attention to Blake. “Maybe you’ve had some time to get used to this idea—”

“A week, Linc. I’ve known for one week and not once have I thought, Well, screw him. I’m not interested. I didn’t think, Hey, I know, I’ll drop this baby on him and walk away and pretend it’s not mine.”

She was distantly aware of Blake swearing, of Linc’s shoulders slumping, of her making a fool of herself by starting to cry again, openly and hard, no hope of making it stop this time. The magnitude of her situation rose up like a wave to encompass her and she began to drown, feet glued to the ice beneath her.

“Meg, hon, I want you to come in out of the cold,” Liz said, appearing like the angel she was. Her arm was motherly and comforting as she hugged Meg to her side and steered her into the house. As she got Meg out of her shoes and coat in the mudroom, she said with brisk sincerity, “I don’t care what happens with you and Linc. You know you’ve made me the happiest woman in the world right now, don’t you? Our babies are going to grow up together.”

She clasped Meg in the fiercest hug ever.

*

Meg went into the house and Linc found himself in a stare down with her brother. Hi, we haven’t met, but I’m Linc Brady, the guy who knocked up your sister and told her to get lost. No wonder the man looked like he wished that rag he held was a gun.

“It was a shock, all right?” Linc said. “I’m pretty careful and really didn’t see this coming. I said the wrong things.”

“Meg and I are adopted,” Blake said flatly. “I lost my parents or I would have stayed with them. I had grandparents in town who couldn’t take care of me, but they were in my life until they died. She never had that. Every single day, she tortures herself, wondering why her birth parents didn’t want her.”

Linc ran his hand down his face, trying to wipe away the shame that had to be reflected there because it filled him to the point his skin ached. He’d knocked her down then kicked her. Cut her where she was already open and tender and sore.