"Clay? It's really you?" Beth Ann squinted against the porch light she'd turned on. "What are you doing here?"
"Just...dropping by," he finished lamely. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd come, except that he needed to talk to someone, to share the news about the baby and what it'd been like at the hospital. Grace and Kennedy had been glowing with happiness. His mother had forgotten her misery long enough to marvel over her first grandchild. And Madeline had barely been able to choke back the tears as she held her little niece. Molly was the only one who'd been missing, and she was coming next week. For once, being with his family had felt...healthy, normal. Like any other family. It made him believe there was hope, made him yearn for a family of his own....
"Are you okay?" Beth Ann asked tentatively.
"I'm fine."
"Come in."
The moment he stepped inside, she slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. "It's good to see you," she murmured.
Clay tolerated the hug but immediately felt cornered. Coming here wasn't what he'd thought it would be. Too much had changed over the past few weeks. He didn't even feel like the same man.
But now that he was here, he forced himself to sit and accept a glass of wine.
"Are you tired?" she asked when he'd drained it and set it aside. "Do you want to go to bed?" She grinned enticingly. "I'll give you a blow job."
She was assuming they'd pick up where they'd left off. He tried to talk himself into doing just that, into taking Beth Ann into the bedroom and using everything but the kind of sex that created a baby to obliterate what he was thinking and feeling. But he couldn't. He didn't want Beth Ann. He wanted Allie.
God, what had he done to himself, going to that cabin?
"What's wrong?" she said when he didn't answer.
"Nothing." He made an effort to wipe the scowl from his face. "Did I tell you Grace had her baby tonight?"
"No. What is it?"
"A little girl."
"Really?"
He nodded, but he could tell Beth Ann didn't particularly care about Grace or the baby.
Neither did she make an effort to understand how important the whole experience had been to him.
She was trying to figure out why he was telling her this so she could use it to get what she wanted.
"That's good."
"Kennedy said Grace did great."
She nodded, but seemed preoccupied.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Are you and Allie...over for good?"
"We're not going to talk about Allie," he said.
She offered him a quick, placating smile. "Okay, we won't, but I just want to tell you that...I know what happened between you two at the cabin."
He watched her, wondering where she was going with this.
"And I won't lie," she went on. "It bothers me. A lot. But--" she smiled "--at least you're back where you belong."
The moment she said it, Clay knew she was wrong. He wasn't back. He felt nothing, not even sexual desire. "No, Beth Ann. I--you said you wanted to be friends. I just came to tell you about the baby."
Her jaw hardened. "Does that mean you're still seeing her? Is that why she rented that house? So you can stay over anytime you want, and she won't have to answer to her father?"
Clay sat forward. "What are you talking about? Allie lives with her parents."
"Not anymore." She sniffed, apparently feeling vindicated that he hadn't known. "I guess you should've left her alone, huh?"
"What happened?" He'd purposely kept to himself the past week, hoping the rumors would die down and allow life to return to normal for Allie. But he'd talked to his sisters, seen Madeline at the hospital tonight. Did they know? If so, why hadn't anyone told him?
They'd probably been too preoccupied with the baby. Or they had avoided the subject because they knew he'd feel responsible.
"She and her father aren't speaking."
"She's not back on the force?" McCormick had agreed...
"No."
"How do you know?"
"Her mother told Polly Zufelt's mother who told Polly."
Polly worked at the Piggly Wiggly with Beth Ann. "So how's Allie managing?"
"Beats the heck out of me. Polly told me she won't even accept groceries from her parents."
"Son of a bitch," he muttered.
Beth Ann looked even less pleased. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"What about her little girl?"
She wrapped her short, sheer robe more tightly around herself. "That's what she has that I don't, isn't it? A child? What is it all of a sudden, with you and children?"
He stood and headed for the door. "I've got to go."
She followed him. "I'll give you a baby, Clay. I've already told you that. I'll give you anything you want."
He didn't even pause. "No one can give me what I want," he said and walked out.
Allie pulled up in front of BethAnn's mobile home just as Clay was coming out the door.
She'd tried to prepare herself for how she might feel if she actually found him here. But the sight of his truck in the drive had been enough to make her sick. Seeing him in the flesh, with Beth Ann at the door wearing some sort of lingerie, nearly knocked the wind out of her.
"What an idiot," she muttered, leaning her forehead against the steering wheel.
"What's wrong, Mommy?" Whitney asked from the back seat.
"Nothing," she said. Clay hadn't made her any promises. She shouldn't have expected anything else. It was just that--after what they'd experienced--she couldn't imagine letting another man touch her.
He started toward her car, looking surprised and confused. Allie told herself to roll down her window and say what she'd come to say. Get it over with and forget him. But she couldn't. The lump in her throat made it impossible to speak with any clarity, and she didn't want him to know how badly he'd hurt her.
Swallowing the tears that threatened, she drove off and left him standing at the curb.
Chapter 16
Clay called Allie a dozen times before she finally picked up.
"Hello?"
"It's me," he said.
"I know."
Of course she did. Or she would've answered a long time ago. It was nearly three in the morning. "I want to see you. Can I come over?"
"No."
He said nothing. He knew she'd jumped to the wrong conclusion when she'd seen him at BethAnn's house. But he didn't attempt to justify his actions. He'd gone there to mess around with Beth Ann. He just hadn't been able to do it. Besides, what difference would it make? If thinking the worst helped Allie stay away from him, she was better off.