Entrusted the love duet.., p.1
Entrusted: The Love Duet: Book 2, page 1
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Also by L.M. Carr
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Entrusted
Copyright © 2018 by L.M. Carr.
Cover design and formatting by Juliana Cabrera, Jersey Girl Design
Edited by Danielle Bisaillon
Proofread by Elaine Dunn
First Edition: November 2018
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to retailer and purchase.
ALSO BY L.M. CARR
The Giving Trilogy
Giving In to You
Giving Up for You
Giving All to You
Casting Stones Duet
Casting Stones
Conquering Stones
Standalones
From a Distance
Love Lyrics & Lies
All titles are available to purchase through L.M. Carr’s website
www.authorlmcarr.com
For my mom.
“And he said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.”
— Luke 15:31
CHAPTER ONE
Pregnant? The single word repeats in my head and I jump back as if my hand touched a live wire, shock zinging through me like a hot current while my heart plummets to the deepest depths of despair and disbelief. Disgusted, I pull my hands immediately from Andrew’s body.
“What are you talking about?” I spit, each word punctuated with contempt. “She’s pregnant?” The thought of Andrew with Paige repulses me and jealousy rages within me. Screeching with an ungodly voice, my lips snarl and form the question I fear. “Is it yours?”
The pounding of my heart rings in my ears, its swishing sound silences everything else as I mentally and emotionally prepare for his reply.
Blue eyes stare at me with apology and confusion, imploring silently for mercy.
Inhaling sharply before blowing air from his rounded lips, Andrew’s eyes fall away and look down at his clasped hands. His back is rounded but stiff with tension, his head bent low in defeat.
“Oh my God! It is, isn’t?” I hiss sharply, disgust tainting my words as disappointment mars my face in the form of a twisted lip.
Andrew snaps his attention back to me.
“I can’t even…I don’t know what to say,” I howl. Smashing the heel of my palms into my eye sockets, I mutter to myself and shake my head, “Jesus Christ, condoms, Andrew! Who doesn’t fucking use condoms these days?”
He reaches for my hand.
“Don’t you dare touch me!”
Unsure whether it’s because my body is currently on a hormonal roller coaster or the idea that this man, a man I care about so deeply despite the newness of our relationship, has fathered a child with another woman wreaks havoc, causing my stomach to spasm. Memories of Sean finally confessing what he’d done throughout the course of our marriage rushes to the forefront of my mind and I’m suddenly overcome with the need to vomit. Rising quickly from the bed, I rush to the bathroom and slam the door before hurling myself over the porcelain bowl.
Tears spring from my eyes as I purge. A moment later, my hair, a mess of chestnut, is gathered and held behind my back as I continue to dry heave.
“Fuck! Morgan, are you okay?” Andrew asks hesitantly as he caresses my head, gently smoothing down the wayward and unmanaged hair.
I cover my face with my palm, stretching my fingers to shield my eyes before I meet his concerned gaze. “Can you just leave me alone?” I mumble, pleading for some privacy.
“Why?” His voice is laced with panic.
Blinking, I turn incredulous, fierce eyes on him. “Why? Are you serious?”
He flinches at my harsh tone.
“Andrew,” I cry out, “you just told me you got another woman pregnant!”
Andrew rises to his feet and I breathe a sigh of relief that he’s actually listening and giving me the time I’ve asked for.
Another round of convulsions produce nothing but continuous abdominal spasms.
Despite thinking he’s left the room, I hear drawers being pulled open and Andrew’s frustrated voice muttering profanities until he seems to find what he’s looking for. Turning on the faucet, he moistens a washcloth then wrings it out. With a careful hand, he reaches out and gently swipes the warm cloth across my face, wiping away the remnants of my nausea.
My hand covers his as he continues the slow motion. Our eyes meet and his widen in panic when an unshed tear rolls down my cheek.
Parting his lips slowly, Andrew stares at me, his eyes burdened with guilt. “You have to know I didn’t intend for this to happen.”
Torn between my own self-righteous anger and the need to comfort him, I slide my hand up and cover his thick wrist, pulling his hand away from my face.
“Are you,” my voice cracks, “are you sure it’s yours?” I don’t know why I ask; I already know judging by the look on his face.
With shame marring his face, he looks down and replies quietly, “She says it is.”
Silence fills the room for several minutes.
“What are you going to do?”
He shakes his head and shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Is she keeping it?”
The idea of a baby, Andrew and Paige’s baby, reignites the volcano in my belly, and the taste of rancid humiliation threatens to erupt once again.
“She doesn’t know yet.” His voice is low and quiet.
I push myself away from the toilet and sit against the wall. My legs are bent and my arms secure them against my chest. A million questions and accusations teeter on my tongue, but nothing comes out. Not a single word.
“I’m sorry,” Andrew eventually says. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Mustering up the courage and strength to speak, I unleash all the questions I’d held in. My attempt to gain more information proves fruitless until I ask specifically about how far along she is.
He clears his throat. “She thinks around eight or nine weeks.”
I calculate the time in my head. “Oh God, you’ve been fucking her the whole time you’ve been here?” I question with an irritated tone in my voice. I ball my hands into tight fists and purse my lips in anger. Had he not slept with her, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Why couldn’t he just keep his dick in his pants?
“No!” he bellows, dropping to his knees in front of me. “No,” he repeats calmer as he shakes his head, looking at me directly in the eye and for some reason I believe him.
Andrew moves to cradle my body against his, offering comfort. Once again, silence stretches for a long period of time, giving each of us a moment to gain some composure.
I reach for the roll of toilet paper and wipe my nose quietly. “Are you going to ask for a paternity test?”
“A paternity test? Why would I do that?” he breathes out.
“Why?” I squawk. “Are you fucking stupid? She knows you’ve just come into a whole lot of money—that’s why!”
Looking down at me, Andrew contests my suggestion. “Paige isn’t like that. Her family is loaded.”
“Money isn’t everything,” I retort. “I’d make sure she isn’t lying.”
“What the hell would she gain from lying to me?” His tone is condescending.
“You, Andrew! She’d gain you.” Idiot I want to add, but I tighten my lips and refrain from providing him with all the reasons someone would try to dig their claws into a man like him. I push him away as I walk back to my room. I can hear him following closely behind. He mirrors my position on the bed, hanging his head as he leans forward and rests his elbows on his thick thighs. “How the fuck did this happen?”
You couldn’t keep your dick in your pants I think to myself.
“What should I do?”
Fueled by anger, I spit out insensitive and cruel words. “That’s your problem, not mine.”
Chuckling sardonically, Andrew drags his eyes up and glares at me. “Thanks. Thanks a lot for that.”
“What the hell do you expect me to say?” I hiss, defending myself and my reaction to his news.
“I didn’t expect you…never mind.” A shake of his head silences his statement. “I didn’t expect you to be so angry with me.”
“What?! After this on again-off again thing we’ve had for a couple of months, we decide we’re going to give it a chance a nd you tell me you’re going to have a kid with someone else.”
“I didn’t plan on this. I get that you’re upset, but you’re acting like I did this on purpose. Having a kid…”
Baffled by his inability to understand my anger and frustration, I turn the table to put things into perspective.
“How would you feel if I told you I just found out I was pregnant with,” I pause and use the name I know will infuriate him, “Alessandro Maggiano’s baby.”
His jaw tightens, and his eyes narrow.
“How would you feel knowing that I had sex with him? That he had me many times?”
“Stop.”
“That I shared my body with him.”
“Stop!” he warns.
“Or that a little piece of him is growing in me?”
“I said stop,” he bellows.
“Or that no matter what, I’ll always be connected to him for the rest of my life because of this baby.”
“Fucking stop! Alright, I get it! I fucking get it.”
I close my eyes, wondering if I want to know the answer to my next question. “How many times?”
“What?” he asks.
“You and Paige. How many times did you sleep with her?”
Andrew runs a hand over his hair. “One too many.”
“That’s not an answer,” I snap. “Three? Four? Ten?”
“What does it matter, Morgan? I don’t care about her; I just fucked her. That’s all it ever was! I wanted to fuck, I called her. She wanted to fuck, she called me. That’s all it was, goddammit.” He releases a sharp hiss. “She was just the means to an end.”
I flinch at his sharp unrelenting tone and the ferocity evidenced on his face.
“Why are you yelling at me? I didn’t do anything!”
My phone rings and I reach over to grab it. Noticing an unfamiliar local number, I send it to voicemail. Whoever it is can wait.
“I’m getting out of here.” I rise and grab my jacket, purse and keys.
“Where are you going?” Andrew stands and blocks my path.
“Please move,” I command as he stares at me, eyes wide with panic or fear.
“I don’t know.”
“Please don’t go.”
“Andrew, I need to get some fresh air. I’m going to take a drive.” I quickly add, “I need some time to myself.”
Andrew’s arm darts out and takes ahold of my elbow. “Please come back to me,” he whispers, his breath in my hair.
My heart aches at the anguish I hear in his voice. Gone is the confident man replaced by a man in need.
I look at him with a compassionate, tight smile. “I have to come back. I live here.”
♦♦♦
Driving around with no particular destination in mind, I engage in a heated monologue, asking myself how I am in this predicament. I ask myself how I could allow myself to fall in love with such a complicated man who is now having a child with someone else. I counter my own question with the reminder that sometimes people don’t choose love, love chooses the people. The road ahead of me blurs when tears of frustration give way to a downpour of sorrowful sobs. Sympathy fills my soul for everyone involved especially this innocent, unborn child.
I pull into a convenience store and purchase a bottle of ginger ale to settle my stomach.
“Aren’t you supposed to be working on a marketing plan for my restaurant?” a familiar voice asks.
I spin on my heels and come face to face with the handsome chef. My eyes travel down the length of Alessandro’s body and notice he’s dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt, exposing his biceps and forearms. He leans in to kiss my cheek as my fingers move deftly to wipe any remnants of moisture from my eyes. I smile awkwardly the moment his lips touch my cheek. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
He pulls back and gazes at me then motions with his head out to the gas pumps.
“Aren’t you cold?” I ask as another customer opens the door and lets a gust of cold air into the store.
Alessandro drags his eyes back to mine, smiling roguishly. “What can I say…I’m a hot-blooded Italian.”
I gulp and feel my cheeks flame.
Looking down, I fumble in my bag to silence my phone when it rings yet again. Andrew’s relentless attempts to contact me through calls and text messages continue to be ignored. I don’t want to talk. I just need some time to process and figure what I’m going to do.
His tongue darts out and licks across his bottom lip before he speaks. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve got for me.”
“What?” I yelp.
“The new logo. I’m excited to see it.”
“Oh,” I breathe, feeling my cheeks flame red.
He grins coyly. “What did you think I was talking about?”
Stammering, I manage to recover quickly and reply with a somewhat appropriate response.
I finish my transaction and quickly throw the cash in my bag.
“Well, I’ll see you later.” My lips transform into a tight smile.
“I hope so,” he replies before winking and adding, “Ciao, bella.”
An hour later, after wondering what life would be like with a man like Alessandro Maggiano, I return to the pool house and find Andrew pacing, wearing away a path on the hardwood.
“You’re back,” he exclaims with surprise.
I set my purse and the green plastic bottle down then stand before him. Worry has clearly taken a toll on his countenance.
Andrew reaches for my hand and guides me to sit beside him on the couch. Silently, we wait, exhaling quietly until courage fills me.
Like a soldier preparing to enter battle, I’ve got my shield on, words are cocked and loaded, ready to ask a slew of questions to guide him down the road called options. “I have to be honest with you, I’m not happy about this.”
“I know.”
“I think you need to find out for sure if this is your baby. This happened to my brother about two years ago.”
“Which one?”
“Cooper. Some woman made a claim that he fathered her unborn child. It wasn’t his,” I say before adding, “thankfully.”
Andrew reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together.
“Morgan, I really am sorry.”
I nod, accepting his claim of responsibility for the current situation. “If this child turns out to be yours, I guess I’ll have to figure out what I’m going to do.”
“Please don’t leave me because of this,” he says, leaning in to wrap his arms around my body. “You’re all I’ve got.”
My heart swells and my chest tightens as I return the embrace, adding comforting, rhythmic circles to his back. Again the words I love you hover on my tongue, fully ready to emerge, but I swallow them.
“You need to talk to her.”
Andrew raises his head and looks at me, waiting for me to continue.
“If she’s claiming to be between eight or nine weeks, there is the possibility that this kid is yours, but you also need to ask if she’s been with anyone else.”
“A kid,” Andrew sighs as if he didn’t hear every word I just said. “I can’t be someone’s dad.”
“Well, don’t go jumping the gun. It might not even be yours.”
“It?” Andrew hisses as if I had cursed the Blessed Virgin Mary. Cutting venomous eyes toward me, causing me to toss my hands up defensively and retract my statement.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
Glancing around my room, I wonder how it came to be that within less than twenty four hours, Andrew and I have taken steps to explore a relationship and now this…the possibility of him fathering a child with someone else.
“I need to shower,” I blurt, standing quickly as the rising water in my eyes threatens to spill and the dam of emotions readies to breach once again.
Hot water rains down, pelting my skin as I squeeze shower gel onto the wash cloth and scrub my body. The levee breaks and salty tears pour from my eyes. I could blame hormones for my current state, but I know it’s more— it’s much, much more.
Fraught with the stress of being newly divorced, of living in my bosses’ pool house, of reuniting with Andrew, of burying my bosses, of taking over the company and now this— there’s only so much one person can take.
I slide down the tiled wall and sit on the shower floor, allowing the water to comfort me as I weep quietly.
