Chapter Twenty-Seven

One look at my face, and Tim tells me to go home before I can say a word. “Don’t infect everyone with whatever you have,” he says, his tone slightly gruff. “Go home. Get better.”

“Thanks.”

I start driving home, then suddenly realize I have to stop by Luke’s place to grab my phone and the stuff I left behind. It won’t take long; I don’t plan to stick around long enough for him to throw a bunch of BS at me to explain away what the woman and the boy mean.

As I pull up, I spot a blue Ford sedan parked in front of Luke’s place. My hands tighten around the steering wheel as I stare out the windshield. Belinda and Tom are standing in front of the car with Luke. I watch the scene like some surreal dream.

Luke is saying something to her, shaking his head and looking intense, then finally nodding when she puts a hand on his shoulder. Tom tugs at the hem of Luke’s coat, and he smiles at the little boy.

Belinda gives Luke and Tom a quick hug each, then climbs into the car and leaves. Luke’s eyebrows pinch. Maybe he’s debating how he’s going to hide Tom from me—he has to know I’ll be home in a few hours. Or maybe he’s trying to come up with a good cover story for the kid. After all, coming up with a good scenario is his area of expertise.

I park my car and get out. At the sound of the car door slamming, Luke looks at me, his frown deepening.

Why? Shouldn’t he be relieved whatever scene we’re about to have is taking place in front of the kid? He should know me well enough to realize I’ll temper whatever I say for the child’s sake.

“Sammi,” he says. His voice is surprisingly calm.

I blink, feeling like I’ve been sucked into Alice in Wonderland. Guys caught in a situation like this have a very clichéd MO. They stammer, then start babbling to explain what’s going on. It’s like one of Newton’s Three Laws.

“You’re back early,” Luke says.

“I left my phone,” I say instead of telling him I left work early because I feel like road kill.

The boy gazes up at me, then hides behind Luke’s leg. Jeez. Most kids love me, but maybe I look like a horror show. I feel like one.

Without waiting for them, I walk into the house and look for my phone on the table where I left it yesterday evening. When I don’t see it, I turn around. “Where’s my phone?”

“Here.” Luke and the kid have followed me in. He reaches into his coat and hands it over.

I give him his, and unlock my unit to make sure it’s really mine. Yup. I unplug my charger from the outlet and shove it into my coat pocket.

“Tom, why don’t you go upstairs? You can play the Spider-Man game on my iPad.”

The boy nods and runs up the stairs with an excited smile.

So Tom’s not unfamiliar with Luke’s electronics, and what’s on them.

I wait until the kid’s totally gone, then turn to Luke. “Who’s that?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

“His name is Tom.”

Anger surges at the mildly cautious way he speaks. I don’t get it. Why am I the only one freaking out? “Nephew? Cousin? A friend’s kid?” When Luke doesn’t answer immediately, I add, “And the woman? Who’s she?”

“She’s…a friend.”

“A friend. So why is she leaving her kid with you?”

He sighs. “It’s complicated.”

“I guess it’s because you can’t just go out of town to her place.”

Luke gives me a sharp look. “Did you…” He looks at the phone he’s been holding. “Did you hack into my phone?”

“There was no hacking. You used your birth date as your passcode. By the way, if you don’t want people to unlock your phone, you should have something other than a birthday or the last four digits of your social security number.”

“I thought we decided to trust each other.”

“Which is why I’m giving you a chance to explain your friend and Tom, who, by the way, looks remarkably like you.”

Luke presses his thumb and forefinger between his eyebrows, like somehow I’m the crazy, unreasonable one. Except I’m a hundred percent rational. And logical.

And the more time he takes to think, the more I die inside. God, how stupid I’ve been. He’s like every cheater I’ve ever dated, just a lot smoother and cleverer.

“Or is it not even worth an explanation because it’s too obvious? They’re your family, aren’t they? Your author bio is correct, and you lied on your Facebook profile that you’re single.”

“I am single. I didn’t lie about that.”

Right. Because I’m going to believe whatever he’s saying now. “Does Belinda know about me?”

“Yes,” he says firmly.

I raise both of my eyebrows. A curveball, but not something that’s going to throw me off. “Okay, so open relationship. Nice for you, but not my thing.”

“Sammi—”

“Don’t you Sammi me.”

Luke inhales sharply. “What about you and David?”

“What about him?”

“You both looked awfully cozy today.”

“What?”

“I saw you outside, when I went over to Sweet Darlings Inc. to drop off your phone.”

“Except you didn’t.”

“No.” His jaw flexes. “I didn’t.”

“Are you accusing me of cheating on you with David? Because if—”

“I’m not accusing you of anything. I was jealous, but decided maybe there was a good reason, and I was going to talk to you about it.”

“There’s nothing going on between me and David. No spark, no romantic possibilities. Nothing.” I continue without giving Luke a chance to respond. “Happy now? He gave me his coat because I left mine in the office. I had to take a long walk to calm myself when I realized I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

Luke shakes his head. “You haven’t.”

“Then explain so I can understand. And don’t give me that shit about trust. Trust is me doing my best not to jump to conclusions and being willing to listen to your explanation with an open mind. You can’t expect me to have blind faith when you won’t explain anything. That’s not how it works.”

“Sammi…”

“I told you what happened between me and David. Why can’t you tell me what’s between you and her? Or the kid?” I gesture up the staircase. It’s all I can do to keep my voice down and speak calmly, not because I care what Luke thinks anymore, but because I don’t want Tom to hear us argue. None of this is his fault. “You even cut our first date short to run to her. And I’ve been feeling terrible every time I thought back on it, thinking it was my ex who ruined the whole thing with his damn texts.”

Luke runs a palm across his forehead. Maybe he can’t think of a plausible scenario. After all, this is real life, not some book he can rewrite if he doesn’t like the initial outline.

And I know—for real—that I’ve been the biggest idiot. Tears fall from my eyes, and I grind my teeth so I don’t make any sobbing sounds.

“Sammi…” He reaches out as though to dry my tears. “Just give me a day or two—”

I step back. “You’re despicable.” My voice comes out nasal, and I loathe how pathetic I sound. I hate it that he wants time—as though time can undo what just happened—and I hate it that I want to give into his request. “Since we aren’t going to talk, I’m getting my things.”