Page 30 of Bound Hearts

I don’t seem to need to wrap my head around this. I’m calm and also recognize that, whether she has realized it or not, she’ll have to tell me in her own time.

“Do you want anything else? Dessert?” I ask.

She blows out a raspberry. “Nah, I’m okay. But let’s ask for a doggy bag and one of us can take the leftovers home. I don’t want the food to go to waste.”

“You’re not coming home with me?” I manage to smile. Situation aside, this is our routine. Puzzling logistics.

“Hmm. I’m not sure it’s a good idea. If I’m coming down with a virus, you won’t want to catch it. You’re away for a few days, right?”

My long finger tickles above my lip. “Yep, CFO fun,” I reply distantly.

“Well, that gives me plenty of time to recover and wait for our favorite activity.” She smiles brightly.

Yeah, she isn’t acting like a woman who has had life-changing news right now. She’s completely oblivious. How? I’m not a woman, nor can I relate to what it feels like, or maybe it’s simply denial to its fullest.

But maybe she needs a few days.

Wiping a towel across my forehead, I sit on the bench by the indoor squash court at my father’s club. I only play with him. I always viewed it as a traditional sport that helps relieve stress and takes my mind off things. He takes a sip of his water as he sits down.

“If this is what I’m going to be like in thirty years, then let me start training now,” I tell him, breathing heavily. The man plays like he’s twenty.

He grins at me with pride. “It’s in our genes. It also means we need fuel. Want to grab brunch with me? The club has a solid array of options on Sundays.”

Grabbing my water bottle, I unscrew the cap to drink a gulp. “I would love to, but I have to get to a birthday party for Hayes’s daughter. I’ve been told there’s adult food instead of carrots and PB and J.”

And I’ll see Sutton, too.

I was away for a few days, and on the surface, nothing between us changed. But the truth is, everything has. We’re having a baby, and I’m not falling apart the way some might if it happened by accident.

“That’s good that you’re there for one another. Anything else new?”

“No,” I lie. “Same old. It’s going to be the busiest year yet at Haven Crossroads, and I want to focus on that.”

He appraises me, and I’m not sure what’s running through his mind, but there’s nothing. “Good. Good, good,” he says faintly. “No change in your circumstances?” He holds my gaze, and it doesn’t take a scientist to understand what he’s asking.

“If there is a woman or a baby in my life, then I’ll tell you. No need to try and investigate. Family clauses don’t dictate my romantic endeavors. I won’t do things just for the sake of the family.”

His grin is uncanny, maybe it’s because my defiance on the issue has been longstanding, and he’s used to it. “Apologies, Son, I’ll back off. Perhaps, I’ve been too pushy lately.”

I don’t have energy to agree, because right now, Sutton and the baby have me tangled up. Part of me feels at peace—a baby happened because of us, a slip in protection and chemistry. But I can’t ignore how convenient it all seems, solving a problem I never meant to face. I keep insisting it’s a coincidence. No way am I letting my father think the family clause is about to be fulfilled.

“Dad, I’m not going to just make things happen. It has to be on my own terms.”

He shrugs and tosses his towel into his gym bag. “I know, Son. It doesn’t hurt to ask. It’s the company, you know. Your mother put the clause in to ensure you’re happy, and I was so crazy about the woman that I agreed. In retrospect, I should have offered a little more pushback, but we can’t go back in time.”

No, we can’t.

“Listen, I need to shower, change, and head on over to Hayes’s place.” I slide the strap of my bag onto my shoulder. “I’ll call you later in the week,” I promise as I walk backward to the exit.

But other than small talk, I don’t think I will be having any heart-to-heart conversations with him for a while. I have to deal with Sutton and let the dust settle.

Sutton looks uneasy the moment she sees me step into Hayes’s penthouse. The open-plan living room and kitchen are abuzz with activity—a three-tier cake on the table, a college student painting faces in the corner, kids darting everywhere. Oddly, there are no balloons, just a tangle of streamers.

Approaching Sutton, I’m slightly hesitant as she appears to be walking on eggshells. She greets me with a nervous smile as I stride toward her, depositing the silver-wrapped present on the present table in the process. She’s here, in front of me, pregnant, and I’m still unsure she realizes it. When I get to her, I nudge her arm with my elbow.

“Been here long?”

“Yeah,” she replies. “I helped Elodie set up.”