blinked, mildly surprised by his question. “Um, yes, I did. Today actually.”
“Good.” A long breath filtered through the line, and she pulled the phone from her ear, staring at the receiver. A moment of insecurity touched her with the nagging sensation that last question had been the purpose of the whole call. But then she thought of the circumstances that had brought them together. A pregnancy. A child. Six months of the cruelest uncertainty.
She couldn’t blame him for being concerned and suddenly felt immensely grateful this wasn’t one of those months she simply missed her period altogether.
“Don’t worry, Nate. Everything’s fine.”
“Have some ice cream or binge on something disgusting or whatever you women do. I’ll see you in a few days.”
Chapter Seventeen
“MOM, Brandt’s pulling up,” Payton called, watching from the front window as the black Escalade pulled into the circular drive. It had been weeks since she’d seen Brandt and, aside from the one brusque call she’d received about the folly of getting involved with a man like Nate, he’d been unusually quiet as of late, burying himself deep in the running of Liss Industries. Doing well. Her father would have been proud.
Heading to the foyer, she heard the thud of a car door and then stalled mid-step at the sound of another.
A moment later the front door swung open wide and her brother strode in, a cavalier grin on his face and Clint on his heels.
Payton’s back straightened, her jaw setting hard.
“Hey, Payton,” Brandt offered with a jut of his chin by way of greeting as he crossed to take her in quick hug. “Hope you don’t mind, I’ve brought Clint along for dinner.”
She raised a cool brow at her brother as betrayal shot hot through her veins. “I see.” She did mind. Very much, in fact, but when had anything as trivial as her opinion ever stopped her brother before?
Clint crossed to her and dropped a chaste kiss to her cheek. “Don’t blame Brandt. I asked him to arrange this. Things didn’t go the way I’d intended the last time we spoke—” He broke off, letting out a strained breath before turning back to her. “And my behavior was unacceptable. But I’m asking you for a chance to talk. Privately.”
She looked from Clint to Brandt and then to her mother, who was descending the wide staircase. “I’m here to have dinner with my family.”
“Nonsense,” her mother interjected, urging her to understand with her eyes. “There’s time enough for everyone. Brandt’s taking me over to the store to pick up something to go with the lamb. It’ll give you two a chance to talk and then we’ll have dinner after we get back.”
Brandt crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t be difficult about this, Payton. I think it’s the least you can do considering the way these last weeks have played out. In fact, I’d say you owe it to Clint here.”
Payton swallowed, looking past her overbearing brother to the door she wished she’d never ventured through this evening. Releasing a short breath, she nodded, taking a step back from Clint even as she agreed to speak with him. She didn’t want any misread signals. Any misunderstandings. But she did feel bad about the way she’d handled the Nate situation with him.
Clint acknowledged with a pained twist of his lips and a resigned nod. Extending one arm toward the living room, he gave her the space to pass. Then turned to Brandt and her mother. “I appreciate this.”
Payton crossed the ancient oriental and perched at the edge of a wingback chair, ankles crossed, hands folded neatly in her lap. Clint followed her into the room and, catching sight of her there, paused, a small smile touching his lips. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, but—”
He held up a hand and walked over to the chair opposite her. “Merely stating the facts.” Then after a pause, “How did we get here, Payton? So far from where we’re supposed to be.” He looked up at her. “I’ve given you time, but this business with Nate Evans has gone too far.”
Payton shook her head. “What’s happening with Nate is none of your business—”
“Fine.” He leaned forward. “Forget him. He’s not important anyway. Not for our future. All I care about is us. You and me. Going forward. I know after your father passed away you had a tough time. You needed…space…to adjust. And I gave it to you.”
They’d broken up. She’d told him it was over. Not that she needed space. But Clint wouldn’t see it that way. He’d chalked her behavior up to a reaction to her father’s death. And maybe it had been, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d made the right choice in leaving him.
“I don’t love you, Clint.”
He shook his head, not willing to hear. Or maybe not caring. “We were good together. Right.”
She felt the familiar stab of frustration, bit back the hot denial that rushed to her lips, knowing it would be dismissed as irrational. Pulling her composure around her, she met his stare. “No. We were never that good or that right together. Only you couldn’t see it and I didn’t want to admit it. But I knew. Even before Daddy…A part of me wouldn’t let us go forward, wouldn’t talk about marriage when you brought it up…I wanted to be happy about what we had. I wanted to see what everyone else saw. How perfect we were together. But I wasn’t being honest with myself or you. I’m so sorry, Clint.”
“You realize what you’re giving up here?”
She nodded. A life where she felt trapped by a man who, though decent enough, didn’t really care to know her.
“I do.”
Knock, knock knock, knock…“Payton, open up.”
Brandt. He must have hopped in his car the minute he got back to the house and discovered she’d left.
The last thing she wanted was to continue this little intervention here at home. She’d do about anything to dodge her big brother coming down on her with all his disappointment and bullying. Maybe if she didn’t answer he’d just go.
“Don’t bother hiding. I know you’re in there.” Of course he did. Her car was parked outside and she was the sole occupant of the third floor, with every light in the apartment shining down on the street below.
Returning the paperback she’d just picked up to the To Be Read pile beside her couch, she pushed to her feet and walked to the door in time to hear the lock tumble as Brandt made use of the keys she sorely regretted giving him.
“Unless you’ve got a bolt cutter in there, just give me a second.” She slipped the chain and stepped back, arms crossed, ready to face him down. “You can’t let yourself in here any time you want.”
Brandt swung the door open and met her determined stare, raising it with a measure of disappointment only their mother could rival. “You’ve done it now. Clint’s through.”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt him, Brandt. But I’m glad he finally believes me.”
“You’re
