Jordan stood next to Abigail, prepared to catch her if they had a repeat of their last experience on her stairs.

She squinted up at him, rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, you know. Now that I know what’s going on with my blood sugar, I’ll just be a little more careful about eating.”

“Okay,” he said, not disagreeing with her, but also not moving from his position behind her. So what if his arms were out and ready to catch?

Abby snorted. “Men are impossible.”

“One might make a case—”

“Shh,” she said. “I’d stop right there, if I were you.”

“Oh?” he asked, all innocence. “So I shouldn’t say that women are impossible too?”

“Definitely not,” she said, then laughed. “Even if it is very true.”

They reached the final few steps and approached her apartment door. Jordan thought she was beautiful in the evening light. The sun made all the different shades in her hair stand out. He wanted to study it, search out each individual color.

He also had entirely too much time on his hands now that he’d sold the business.

Abby put in the code on the keypad, and he did a very good job of pretending not to watch, all while memorizing the four-digit password.

She opened the door then rotated so she was facing him, blocking the entrance to her apartment. “You don’t have to come in.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Honestly?” she asked.

He nodded despite knowing that she was about to give him his walking papers.

“No.”

The word made him rock back on his heels. “Really?”

She huffed and turned her back on him, tossing over her shoulder as she walked inside, “Don’t make me regret being honest. Close the door,” she added when he stood frozen. “You can pick which side of it you want to be on.”

“Smartass.”

“You know it.” But she blew out a breath when he’d closed and locked the door. “I’m sorry. You’ve been nothing but nice and patient today.”

“Why do I feel there should be an emphasis on today?”

“It’s not you—” She shook her head. “Not entirely you, anyway. I’ve had a shitty couple of weeks and this . . .” Her chin dropped to her chest and she sighed deeply. “What the fuck am I going to do with a baby?”

Jordan felt his heart skip a beat. “So you’re going to have it?”

If there were wrong words to say, those were the ones.

“It?” Her eyes closed. She sighed and lifted her gaze to mine. “It.” Any warmth in her expression had vanished.

“I didn’t—”

She walked to the door, opened it. “Out. Don’t worry, I won’t bother you with it.”

“Abby.” He crossed to her. “That’s not what I meant. I didn’t want to pressure—”

“Get out.”

“I’m not—”

“Get out!” she yelled, tears forming in the corners of her eyes, and just that quickly Jordan snapped.

Crying on cue. Throwing temper tantrums. Manipulating the facts to get something from him.

He’d seen this all before. He’d been through this too many times to count.

He’d just thought that Abby might have been different.

He should have known better.

“Is it even mine?” he hissed, eyeing the worn furniture, the small space. It had seemed cozy and warm all those weeks before. Now he saw it for what it really was.

A play for more.

Abigail gasped. “You—you fucking jerk.”

“Now you don’t have a job? Oh, and no insurance, too?” He laughed, and if it was bitter, it was because he’d been through this dog and pony show before. He’d seen his father deal with it, had been a victim of the scheme himself.

Lying about being on birth control.

How could he have been so fucking stupid?

His father had fallen for that trick on more than one occasion.

And now, apparently so had he.

Or maybe—

“Are you even pregnant?”

Her jaw dropped open, right on cue. The perfect actress. “You saw—”

“How much did you pay them? God, you had me fooled.” He shook his head, forcing away his blip of regret when hurt slid across her face. This was all an act.

And not even a very good one.

“When did you find out I’d sold InDTech? That my bank account is overflowing?”

That’s what she wanted. To pretend to be wholesome as she weaseled her way in.

He pulled out his wallet. Opened the leather case.

“You’re unbelievable. I don’t want anything from you,” she snapped. “Except—” Her breath hitched when he extracted a wad of bills and thrust them into her hands.

She fumbled to take the pile, and his anger was confirmed.

“Except money,” he spat.

Abigail carefully stacked the hundreds, putting them into a neat pile that she then lifted up to him. “Nothing,” she said softly. “Except for you to get the hell out of my apartment, and never bother me again.”

“I should have figured that wasn’t enough for you.” He shook his head and walked over the threshold. “Consider it a down payment for carrying my baby.”

The door slammed closed, barely missing his head.