vestige of color faded from her delicate features, accentuating the dark circles under her eyes. A fine tremor worked its way through her body. The urge to pull her closer made him tighten his fingers before common sense rallied. Comforting her, taking comfort in her, had already gotten him into a world of trouble. He’d crossed the line. Releasing her, he shoved his fists into his pockets and stepped back.
She lifted a trembling hand to cover the pulse leaping at the base of her throat. Her other hand spread over her flat belly, where even now their cells could be merging to create a new life. He couldn’t even begin to put a name to the emotions the knowledge stirred inside him, and fighting the need to lay his hand over hers took everything he had.
“Brett and I were trying to start a family and we…” She ducked her chin. A rush of pink swept her high cheekbones before the curtain of her hair swept forward to conceal her features. “The day he died was the beginning of my fertile cycle.”
His belly bottomed out. Could this day get any worse? He’d buried his baby brother, made love to his brother’s wife and may have impregnated a woman he should be protecting, not hurting. And then her words sank in. She and Brett had been trying to make a baby. Brett had been the only family he had left, and his brother’s seed might already be growing inside Lynn’s womb. Sawyer clutched the link to Brett like a lifeline.
He might be an uncle.
Or a father. He swallowed the lump in his throat and struggled to breathe despite the constriction of his chest muscles. The first would be a blessing, the second a curse on his soul for taking what wasn’t his and yet, he liked the idea of Lynn having his baby. The possibility tied his insides into knots—knots he couldn’t unravel when his thoughts were as convoluted as this. He shoved the issue aside to deal with later, when he’d recovered a shred of reason.
He should leave, get the hell out of here before he made things worse, but he couldn’t until he knew Brett had provided for Lynn. “I stayed behind because I need to know if Brett’s life insurance will be enough to support you—” he swallowed again, but the tightness in his throat persisted “—and a child.”
The silence stretched so long that he didn’t think she’d answer, and then her gaze met his. She looked so damned fragile. He sucked a sharp breath at the worry in her eyes and battled the urge to pull her close.
“Brett let the policy lapse.”
Great. His brother had never been one for what he considered trivial details. “What will you do?”
She shifted on her feet, reminding him that she was bare and wet beneath the skirt of her dress. Hell. He yanked his thoughts back on track.
Her jaw set. “I’d rather not discuss this now, Sawyer.”
He fisted his hands in frustration. “I’m not trying to be callous. I know you’re tired and it’s been a rough day, and I’ve added to that, but I won’t leave until I know you have enough money to cover immediate expenses.”
“That’s not your problem. If I have to I’ll get a job.”
“Doing what?”
“I don’t know. I can always go back to waitressing.”
Lynn had been a waitress in a downtown Chapel Hill coffee shop when he’d met her four and a half years ago. She’d lured him with her sunny smile, sky-blue eyes and sun-streaked blond hair, and then she’d hooked him with her contradictions. Her work uniform had consisted of a starched white shirt, pure schoolmarm, and a short black skirt, one hundred percent siren when combined with her long, lithe legs and a no-nonsense hip-swinging gait. She’d been shy until he’d gotten to know her, and then her gutsy and ambitious side had peeked through and reeled him in. Lynn dreamed big—something they had in common.
He’d debated for months before asking her out because she was too young for him, but in the end he couldn’t resist. They’d dated a few times, and then he’d made the second biggest mistake of his life. He’d introduced her to his brother. An extended business trip had called him out of town, and he’d returned to find Brett and Lynn married.
Move on, Riggan. You can’t change the past. She chose Brett. “You’d only make minimum wage. You deserve better.”
“Sawyer, I have a high school diploma and one semester of college. I’m not qualified for anything better.”
“You should have finished school.”
Lynn looked away, revealing beard burn on the delicate skin of her neck. He’d marked her in his passion. The unexpected urge to soothe her chafed skin with his mouth hit him hard. “Brett wanted me here.”
That wasn’t the way Brett told the story. “Have you gone over the finances with your accountant yet?”
“Brett kept our books.”
His belly sank even lower. Brett was a marketing genius, but numbers had never been his strong suit. “When will you meet with the lawyer to go over the will? You need to know if you have enough money to hold on to the house and your car.”
She pressed a hand to her temple and bowed her head. He wanted to smooth her tangled hair as badly as he wanted his next breath. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. “I’ll meet with the lawyer in a few days, but I’ve looked over the accounts. Money is going to be tight until I sell the house.”
Her words didn’t make sense. Brett had earned a generous salary as marketing director of Riggan CyberQuest. “You’re selling the house?”
She lifted her chin and met his gaze. The wariness and fear in her eyes knotted his gut. “It’s too big for just me.”
He cursed his brother. If Brett had kept up the life insurance policy then Lynn wouldn’t be forced to sell the house where she and Brett had lived—he swallowed hard—and loved. “What can I do to help?”
“Nothing, thanks. I’ve already contacted a real estate agent. He’s coming out to give me an appraisal.” She seemed determined to tough it out alone.
He was just as determined to help her. Lynn was his responsibility now—especially if she carried a Riggan baby in her belly. “You can move in with me until you find a new place.”
Her eyes rounded. “I…no, thank you.”
He couldn’t blame her, since he’d violated her trust today. He shoved a hand through his hair. “What happened today… I can’t tell you how much I regret it. I won’t lose control again. You have my word, Lynn.”
Why did the words feel like a lie? And why did Lynn flinch as if he’d slapped her? He wanted to kick himself. Instead, he pulled out his wallet and extracted the cash inside. “This is all I have with me, but I can get more—as much as you need.”
She recoiled, and her skin flushed. “Are you trying to make me feel like a hooker?”
He winced and his skin heated. “No.” Dammit. “I thought you might need money for food or…whatever.”
She made no move to take the cash. “The neighbors brought enough food to last a week. I don’t need anything else.”
“I want to help—”
“I
