lip with her teeth. She didn’t doubt Paxton would contact her at some point. He might not care anything about her—he’d made that clear over the last two months. But a baby... Paxton was a family man through and through. She doubted he would ignore her pregnancy, no matter how much of an inconvenience it was to him. “I have no idea what to say to him.”
A banging on the front door startled them all. “Geesh,” Willow exclaimed. “Take it easy.”
She headed down the hallway. Jasmine’s hand covered Ivy’s, warming her chilled skin. “Everything’s gonna be okay,” she murmured.
Why didn’t Ivy feel the same way?
They heard Willow open the door and say something, followed by a deep, smooth male voice.
“Where is she?”
Ivy’s eyes widened, her gaze locking with Jasmine’s. There was no mistaking Paxton’s voice or the forceful tone that she’d heard time and again in business meetings. The panic from earlier returned full force, drumming in her chest. She and Jasmine scrambled from their seats.
Together, they peeked around the door frame of the dining room, straight down the hall. Paxton stood in the front doorway with an angry expression on his face. In that moment he glanced over Willow’s shoulder and saw Ivy.
He didn’t bother asking for permission. Instead he shouldered past Ivy’s sister and stomped down the hallway, causing the wooden floors to creak in protest.
“Paxton,” Ivy exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“Hunting down what’s mine.”
A small part of her was thrilled at his words, but the anger in his expression told her in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t here for her. At least, not the way she wanted.
“Get out!” The words escaped her mouth just as Auntie murmured, “I told you so.”
A hint of amusement passed over Paxton’s face before he turned grim again. “If I’m understanding this situation correctly, you turned in your resignation and walked away, knowing you were pregnant with my child?”
A chorus of feminine “oh dears” filled the air and guilt struck Ivy hard. Yes, that’s exactly what she’d done. But his blunt recitation of the facts didn’t truly represent the whole picture: her loneliness and fear and anger over the past two months.
“Ivy,” Paxton said, his timbre low and menacing. He stopped directly in front of her, looming just enough to inspire a touch of fear. “It seems we have a problem.”
“Do I get any kind of explanation?”
“Do you deserve one?” Under other circumstances, Ivy had plenty of reserves to pull from to keep herself diplomatic. But Paxton’s appearance here had her off guard and on edge.
She needed her sisters. A glance toward the doorway from the kitchen showed that it was empty. Ivy licked her dry lips. When Paxton had asked to speak with her alone, they’d reluctantly left for the front parlor. Not that they wouldn’t come running if she yelled, but still...she couldn’t stop herself from wrapping her arms around her middle.
Facing him alone made her stomach hurt even more than when she’d just been worrying over him showing up.
“How’d you find me?” she asked.
“Human resources was nice enough to help with an address.”
She licked her lips again. “Why?”
“Seriously?”
Ivy was genuinely surprised as Paxton’s eyes widened and his tone deepened with more anger. She wasn’t sure why. Paxton was passionate about kids. But the knowledge that he was here for that reason alone made her own anger surge.
“I could have been at the doctor’s office for any number of reasons...” she insisted.
“Like getting a prescription of prenatal vitamins?”
“That was none of your business, Paxton.”
“Don’t even go there...” he growled.
He leaned closer, his height giving him the advantage. His intention might not be intimidation, but it sure felt that way. Even in her heels, she’d never come close to his height. In her current flip-flops, she didn’t stand a chance. But at least she was still on her feet. Sitting down felt like giving him too much of an advantage, so she continued to stand, even though her body swayed under the continuous onslaught of pregnancy hormones, nausea and exhaustion.
Paxton wasn’t through throwing his weight around. “If you simply wanted to walk away from your job, that’s your prerogative. But with my child? No way.”
The possessiveness in his words sent a scary thrill through her. “My child,” she insisted.
“Your words earlier already told me it’s mine, too.” He smirked. “You can’t deny it. I was listening at the window. I heard it all.”
How would it feel to be able to wipe that smirk off his face?
If she’d known he was listening, she’d have been careful not to give so much away. Eavesdropper. But then, Paxton was used to having his way in life. She’d seen it time and again when she worked for him. It would be best to set some boundaries up front. “A little beneath you, isn’t it?”
“I could say the same. Sneaking around. Running away. You could have just told me.”
In that moment it felt like Ivy’s blood turned to jet fuel and someone set a match to it. Heated fury instantly engulfed her. She stomped forward. “At what point? You made it clear you weren’t interested in hearing anything personal. And you certainly didn’t seem to be interested in any consequences before today.”
He shook his head. “This is a child we’re talking about here.”
Obviously that’s all that mattered. “I see. The only consequences of note are the ones that affect you.”
He stalked away, steps heavy on the kitchen’s tile floor, and raked his hands through his blond hair in a familiar gesture she’d seen so many times in his office. Frustration. Anger. It took a lot to push Paxton that far. When those emotions overtook him in public, he simply went cold in his expression, movements and words.
Not in private. That was the part she already missed—all the emotions she’d been privy to that Paxton rarely showed anyone outside his family.
Unfortunately, now the emotions were directed at her. And not the fiercely tender ones she remembered from their one night together.
After several rounds of pacing, he settled in a chair at the table, then gestured for her to do the same. The stubborn part of her that wouldn’t rest today wanted to insist he wasn’t her boss anymore. She’d sit when she was good and ready. But the invitation rather than demand in his simple motion made her stubbornness seem petty.
