Mistresses: The Consequences Of Desire: Beach Bar Baby / Walk on the Wild Side / Claiming His Own. Heidi RiceЧитать онлайн книгу.

       EIGHT

      Coop stared at the glittery pink lettering on the front of the diner, and then past it through the glass. He spotted Ella in front of the counter, busy chatting to a customer, her hand resting casually on her belly—and swallowed to ease the thickening in his throat.

      Play it cool. No more freak-outs allowed.

      He’d spent a night in the gothic splendor of the five-star hotel overlooking St Pancras Station, not sleeping a wink, as he went over every single thing she’d said, and every single thing he’d said. And he’d come to a few important—if shattering—conclusions.

      He didn’t have the first clue what he was supposed to do about the bomb she’d just exploded in his nice, easy, island life. Correction: his formerly nice, easy, island life. Fatherhood was something he hadn’t planned for and didn’t know a damn thing about.

      And he hated not knowing, because it reminded him too much of his childhood. The dead weight of responsibility, the relentless pressure of being constantly trapped without a way out and that terrifying feeling of insecurity, of never knowing if he would be strong enough, smart enough, man enough to make things right for his mom.

      He didn’t want to live through all that again. And he hated that he would have to now.

      And because of that he’d panicked yesterday, when Ella had told him her news—and had dropped a pretty big bomb on her in return.

      Because however much he might want to blame all this on Ella, he knew now—once he’d taken the time to examine all the facts—that he couldn’t. He also knew he couldn’t just walk away from his own kid and forget about it—the way she’d suggested—because that would make him no better than his old man. And he was pretty sure he couldn’t do that and live with himself afterwards.

      All of which left him with only one option. Suck it up, stop whining about what he couldn’t change and try to deal with it.

      And the only way he could do that was to deal with Ella first.

      Forcing the trademark ‘never-let-them-see-you’re-scared’ smile he’d perfected as a kid onto his lips, he pushed open the door. But as Ella’s gaze locked on his and her eyes went wide with distress his step faltered, his heartbeat stumbled and the thickening in his throat got a hell of a lot worse.

      * * *

      ‘Coop?’ Ella bit into her lip, the tremor of shock and anxiety almost as overwhelming as the wave of relief.

      She’d never expected to see him again, had convinced herself that his angry departure was for the best. She’d told herself over and over again during a long night spent on the phone to Ruby, and then lying in bed staring at the crack in her ceiling, that she couldn’t make Coop want to be a father—any more than she could make him forgive her for something she hadn’t done. So it would be pointless and futile to contact him again.

      ‘We need to talk,’ he said, his deep voice slightly strained but with none of the explosive anger from their last encounter. ‘Can you take a break?’

      She nodded, too stunned to speak, then glanced round the shop to locate her business partner. Ruby stood chatting to a young couple to whom she’d just delivered a couple of chai lattes. But then her head came up and she spotted Coop. All traces of the genial hostess disappeared as she marched back across the café.

      ‘What do you want?’ Ruby stepped behind the counter to stand shoulder to shoulder with Ella. ‘Haven’t you done enough?’

      ‘I’m here to talk to Ella, honey, not you,’ Coop said, the casual tone in direct contrast to the challenge in his eyes.

      ‘Well, “honey”...’ Ruby sneered the endearment, squaring up for a fight ‘...you’re going to have to go through me to get to her after the immature way you behaved yesterday.’

      ‘It’s okay, Ruby.’ Ella touched her friend’s arm, emboldened by her support—even if it was counterproductive right now.

      The last thing she wanted was for Coop to find out how much his accusations had hurt her, or how she’d dissolved into a quivering wreck after his departure. Showing that kind of weakness would only put her on the defensive. ‘Coop’s right—we need to talk. Is it okay if I take a few minutes?’

      ‘Are you sure?’ Ruby asked.

      ‘We’ll need more than a few minutes to sort this mess out,’ Coop interrupted before she could reassure her friend. ‘I’ve got a car waiting outside to take us back to my hotel, so we can have some privacy.’

      This mess.

      Ella’s heart shrank. Her baby wasn’t a mess. But if that was the way Coop saw it, then sorting out his involvement—or rather the lack of it—would be fairly clear cut. And she supposed she should be glad that he seemed prepared to do that much.

      ‘Why do you need privacy?’ Ruby interrupted again. ‘So you can shag her and then have another temper tantrum like a two-year—’

      ‘Ruby, please, don’t.’ Ella raised her voice, grateful for the spark of indignation. ‘I’ll be fine. All we’re going to do is talk.’ She wasn’t about to make the mistake again of believing the strong physical attraction between them meant an emotional connection too.

      She really didn’t know this man. His volatile reaction last night had proved that. This ‘talk’ would be a chance to find out more about him—while also reassuring him that her expectations of him were zero as far as the baby was concerned.

      Ruby continued to eyeball Coop for several pregnant seconds, but, instead of rising to the provocation, he grinned.

      ‘You heard the lady.’ He slung his hands in his pockets, the picture of nonchalance as he raised an eyebrow, the challenge unmistakable. ‘All we’re going to do is talk.’ His gaze landed on Ella and the unwanted hum of awareness seared through her body. ‘This time.’

      * * *

      ‘How are you? Is everything okay with the kid?’

      Ella turned, to find Coop watching her from the opposite side of the cab as it crawled down Camden High Road. After persuading Ruby that she was woman enough to handle a private chat with her baby’s father, she’d been careful to seat herself as far away as possible from him. But the tentative enquiry and the flicker of concern knocked her off balance again.

      ‘Yes, everything’s good.’

      ‘I just wondered because...’ he paused to clear his throat, looking more uncomfortable than she’d ever seen him ‘...I was kind of rough with you. In your apartment. You know, before you told me.’

      She blinked, puzzled. He hadn’t been rough, not until after he’d heard the news and then only verbally. But then it dawned on her what he was referring to. Their frantic lovemaking against the wall. The blush climbed into her cheeks and heat pulsed in her sex at the visceral memory. While a matching, much more dangerous warmth tugged under her breastbone.

      ‘Oh, no, everything’s fine, really. Sex isn’t a problem in pregnancy—as long as we don’t start breaking furniture it should be okay.’ The blush launched up to her hairline as it occurred to her what she had implied. ‘Not that we’re likely to be...well, you know.’