Signed, Sealed, Delivered (19 page)

Sixty bucks.

Not a penny more.

“I’m so sorry! It’s just a mistake. Let me get things together, and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Promise.”

Juliana ended the call and started plowing through the documents piled on Connor’s desk. He was supposed to be at a showing with a young couple who were both a little jumpy as they searched for their first house. Property virgins needed careful handling, and Connor had always done a great job with their type.

Where the hell is he?

She growled when she found their file. He’d left without it, which meant he’d forgotten the appointment. So unlike him. Ever since Max had started his insulting ad campaign, Connor had been acting… weird. While she wanted to continue to trust him, his disappearances weighed heavily against him.

Surely he wouldn’t start gambling again. He wouldn’t fuck up their lives like that.

Would he?

Shoving the file into her briefcase, she muttered a steady stream of profanities.

The door to the office opened, and she glanced up, ready to unload her temper on Connor. Thankfully, she bit back the words when Tracy was the one to enter.

“Shit.” Juliana picked up the stack of sheets Tracy needed to pick her fixtures for the house Robert was building. “I’m going to have to meet you at the model, Trace. Sorry.”

“No worries,” Tracy replied. “I don’t need a handhold. You look a little frazzled. Connor can always go with me if you’ve got other plans. Hell, I can just go myself. Picking out flooring and backsplash tiles isn’t all that difficult.” Her gaze combed the office. “Where is he?”

“Beats the crap outta me.”

After Tracy took the papers, Juliana hefted her briefcase strap over her shoulder, ignoring the twinge in her gut.

Probably just another wave of nausea threatening.

“When you see him,” Juliana said, “tell him I’d like to have a word with him.”

“Would that word be ‘asshole,’ perchance?”

Since Tracy had become such an integral part of their lives, Juliana had warmed to her. They shared a sarcastic sense of humor and a love for strong coffee no matter the time of day, and both understood Connor better than he probably understood himself.

“I’ll let you choose the appropriate insult,” Juliana said with a wink. “You’ve known him longer.”

“Where are you headin’?” Tracy asked.

Juliana heaved a sigh, thinking about all she’d have to do today if Connor was going to continue to be MIA. How could one person be in two places at the same time? “I have to help a couple of kids who are looking at the house they want for the third time. The selling agent told me if I ask for any more showings, I damn well better have an offer in hand. Not that I can blame her. I shouldn’t be long, though. I can meet you at—” Tracy’s horrified gasp stopped her short. “What’s wrong?”

Hurrying to her, Tracy eased the strap from her shoulder and set the briefcase on the floor. “You need to change first.”

“What?” If Tracy thought Juliana’s outfit wasn’t perfect, too bad. She didn’t have time to play fashion queen now.

“I mean it, Jules. You’ve got a… problem.” She nodded at the gray desk chair.

Juliana’s eyes widened. A bloodstain on the seat cushion seemed as bright as a laser show.

“Go on. Go change,” Tracy said. “We all get caught unaware when Aunt Flo pops in for an inopportune visit.”

“No.” The word was a quavering whisper. “Please, no.”

The nightmare of her first miscarriage hit Juliana hard enough to make her head spin. The mere thought she was losing this baby told her that she hadn’t been as nonchalant as she’d pretended. She wanted this baby. Desperately.

And now she was losing it.

“This isn’t your period, is it?” Tracy asked.

Juliana’s brain buzzed with fear. The first miscarriage had been devastating. Losing Connor’s baby would be unbearable. “No,” she whispered.

“That’s it. We’re going to the hospital.”

“No!” Although she sounded like a broken record, she couldn’t stop the shout. To her, the hospital meant all hope was lost. “I—I need to go to a—a doctor.”

“Yeah, at the hospital.”

“At an office.”

“Fine. Call your OB,” Tracy insisted. “I’ll drive you there.”

Juliana wandered into her house, mindlessly changing her pants and underwear as she fixed a fresh pad onto a clean pair of panties.

There wasn’t a lot of blood. Not like last time. This was just spotty enough to have left the stain on her pants and her chair.

But any bleeding was a bad sign.

“Please, God. Please, not again,” she prayed as she tossed her soiled clothing into the washer. “Please.”

Fishing her phone from her purse, Juliana dialed her gynecologist. She’d just assumed Dr. Fisher would be her OB. The doctor she’d seen when she’d miscarried had retired a few years back.

“Fisher and Zirkelbach O-B-G-Y-N. May I help you?” a friendly woman’s asked.

“I’m a patient of Dr. Fisher’s. I—I’m pregnant and I started bleeding.”

“Name, please.”

“Juliana Kelley. Can she see me?”

“Is the bleeding heavy?”

“Um, about like a period,” Juliana replied.

“Give me a moment, please.” Annoying music replaced the voice.

Tracy stuck her head into the kitchen just as Juliana was tying her shoes. “What’s happening?”

Juliana was about to answer when the receptionist came back on the line.

“Dr. Fisher is at the clinic. She asked for you to get there as soon as possible so she can see you.”

“I will.” After the receptionist gave her directions, Juliana slid her phone into her pocket. “The doctor’s not at her office. This is her clinic day. We’re meeting her there.”

“Then let’s go!”

* * *

A quick glance to the clock made his heart jump.

“Idiot.” Connor ran his hand over his face, slowly regaining control of his impulses.

The temptation was finally abating. He’d driven to the casino the night before, holding sixty dollars in his hand, ready to head inside.

But he hadn’t.

Instead, he’d stared at the building, trying to figure out exactly what it was about gambling that drew him with such intensity. Without any answers, he’d headed home to lie next to Juliana as she slept. She’d snuggled up to him, murmuring his name. He combed his fingers through her soft hair, wishing he was a stronger man.

Wishing he was the man she deserved.

This morning, the urge to gamble was still there, gnawing at his insides until he could take it no longer. The sixty dollars sang to him, drawing him like a Siren’s song.

Before Juliana woke, he’d driven straight back to the casino and spent so much time sitting in his car, staring at the people wandering in and out, he’d lost track of what he should’ve been doing. He’d forgotten the third showing with the McMillans.

Juliana was with them. He had no doubt she’d picked up the slack, but he was being an asshole to make her do so.

Time to man up, Connor.

You fucked up your own life, but there’s no way you’re gonna do that to her.

No. Fucking. Way.

There wasn’t a slot machine in the world that could make the mess he’d made of things go away, even if only for a couple of hours, if he disappeared into that tempting numbness. Max Schumm wouldn’t stop being a prick. Connor’s past wouldn’t fade into nothing. And houses weren’t going to sell themselves.

As he fired up the engine, he picked up his cell and called Juliana. There was no answer, so he focused on hunting her down. They’d synced a GPS app between their cell phones, finding it a handy tool for when they were both so busy that they had to meet somewhere in the middle of showings or closings.

She didn’t pop up at the office. Or at the house the McMillans wanted to see yet again. Or anyplace he recognized. Although he’d learned the grid of the town pretty quickly by showing so many homes, her phone was at a series of office complexes close to the county hospital.

Hospital?

He jammed the SUV into gear and sped out of the parking lot, convinced he wouldn’t spend another minute of his life on gambling. Life was short. Too short. Meeting Juliana had finally taught him there were things worth fighting for.

Her, for example.

His heart slammed against his rib cage as his mind flooded with pictures of the horrible things that might have happened to the woman he loved. A car accident? His biggest worry. He’d lived that nightmare once before.

Please let her be okay.

He drove far too fast, trying to get to the address on the GPS before he went crazy with worry.

The office buildings in the complex made a maze that soon had him dizzy. Connor negotiated the twists and turns until he finally found the right building. The sign was small enough he almost missed it.

CLOVERLEAF WOMEN’S CLINIC

He checked his phone again, sure he’d made a mistake. He even reset the search for Juliana’s phone and tried it again. The same address popped up.

What in the hell was she doing at a women’s clinic?

From what he’d been told, only two types of patients were served by women’s clinics. Teenage girls who wanted to get birth control without going through their family doctors and women who wanted to get an—

No.
Juliana would never consider an abortion. Hell, she never even told him she was pregnant.

Was she?

They’d had unprotected sex a few times, so anything was possible.

No, she would’ve told him. They were lovers. They were partners. They shared everything. If they were going to have a baby together…

Oh God.

What if she knew where he’d been the last two days? What if she thought he’d started gambling again? Would her fears for the future make her choose an abortion?

Instead of making himself crazy with “what ifs,” Connor was going to hunt her down. That was the only one way to figure things out. He had to get his ass inside that clinic and find out why she was there.

He gaped when he got to the parking lot and saw Tracy’s car instead of Juliana’s SUV. Tracy was there, too?

He’d never been so confused in his entire life.

Which woman needed the services of one of these doctors?

After parking, Connor started texting both women, asking what they were doing in the clinic even as he strode toward the entrance. When he got to the innocuous door, he tried to jerk it open only to discover it was locked. A quick glance revealed an intercom and a security sign that said all people needed to be buzzed in.

He hit the intercom button. “Hello?”

“Can I help you?” a woman’s voice asked.

“I need to get inside.”

“May I ask your business with our clinic?”

“I need to see a patient. Let me in.”

“I’m sorry, sir. We don’t allow anyone who isn’t a patient inside.”

His temper flared. “Look, my girlfriend’s GPS says she’s inside. I need to get to her before…”

Before what?

Before she has an abortion?

“I’m sorry, sir. We don’t—”

“Just tell me if she’s actually in there. Her name’s Ju—”

The women interrupted him with an exceptionally loud sigh. “Laws don’t allow us to reveal any information about our patients.”

This was turning into one of the most frustrating experiences of his life. “I just wanna know if she’s in there. Please. Her name is Juliana—”

“Sir, you’re going to have to leave now, or I’ll be forced to call security.”

Great.
That was exactly what he needed. The local compulsive-gambling real estate salesman gets arrested outside an abortion clinic.

Max Schumm would die of utter happiness.

Then he saw it through the receptionist’s eyes. Here was a frantic man, demanding to know whether his girlfriend was inside. How often had the clinic employees faced people who could potentially hurt them? Angry spouses. Activists. No wonder they were locked tighter than Fort Knox.

“Fine. I get it.” Connor turned and stalked away. He could wait in his SUV and catch up on his calendar while he waited for Juliana and Tracy. No sooner had he plopped into the driver’s seat than his phone signaled a text.

Tracy. Thank God.
But her message was simply a curt reply.

busy right now

“I know that,” he muttered to himself as he typed the same words.

r u and jul in the clinic? is jul ok? r u ok?

Instead of answering, she sent a cryptic message.

go to the office. will talk there later.

“Damn it.”

What choice did he have but to obey?

Connor tossed his stuff at his desk, not caring if anything got damaged.

After he’d left the women’s clinic, he’d been waylaid by the McMillans. He’d let their earlier calls go to voice mail, so he answered even though he wanted to be home before Juliana got there. They were both in a panic, waiting for him at the house they wanted to see one last time before taking the plunge and making an offer.

Since he couldn’t do anything to help Juliana, he’d shown the house and written the offer as quickly as he could before hurrying home. If he hadn’t spent that precious time with the McMillans, Kelley-Wilson could’ve lost them as clients, something that probably would’ve made Juliana angrier than if he got there after she was already back from the clinic. At least Tracy was with her, and she’d texted him just as soon as Juliana was allowed to go home.

He still had no clue what had sent her there, but he’d convinced himself she was pregnant. The subtle signs were there. Her moodiness. An appetite that wavered from nauseous to ravenous. And she hadn’t had a period he could remember.

Oh yes. Juliana was definitely pregnant.

What he didn’t know was whether she’d terminated that pregnancy.

His gut churned at the thought. When it came to the abortion debate, his mantra had always been “her body, her choice.” But this was his baby. He wanted to make a family with Juliana. He wanted for them to share a couple of kids the way they shared the rest of their lives. He wanted this beautiful woman to be his happily ever after.

If she hadn’t gone there to end the pregnancy, why in the hell was she at the women’s clinic? A passing thought that perhaps she’d accompanied Tracy rather than vice versa was smashed when Tracy texted that Juliana was doing well and was heading home.

The kitchen was empty. “Red?” he called as he wound his way through the house to the bedroom.

“Back here.” Juliana’s voice was clear and calm.

A bad sign.

She’d developed a certain tone when dealing with emotional clients—a flat tenor with little or no feeling. Her easy control helped relax people despite her natural lack of tolerance. That out-of-patience tone was exactly how she sounded now.

Connor stopped at the threshold of the open bedroom door.

Juliana was dressed in gray yoga pants and a pink T-shirt. She leaned back against a stack of pillows behind her back exactly the way she did some of the nights they watched TV. Her fingers flew over her laptop keyboard.

“Did you get with the McMillans?” Her voice still held that same timbre that sent a shiver down Connor’s spine.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“Can we forget them for a minute? How are you feel—”

“Forget them? Are you nuts? We need to get them to write an offer. They’ve piddled around long enough. You know what first-timers are like. They need to work up some guts. Give them a call and ask them to come in tomorrow. I can push them a little.”

He gaped at her, not sure how she could even think about the business at a time like this. Didn’t she know how worried he was? Couldn’t she see his fear for her and for what she might have just done? “Push them a little? Seriously, Red? That’s all you’ve got to say to me?”

Her fingers stilled. “What exactly do you want me to say? They’ve seen the house three times. Of course I want to nudge them.”

She was being deliberately obtuse, but before he could tell her so, her gaze caught his. For the first time since he’d met her, he couldn’t read her emotions.

He’d always believed that first passionate, magical night they’d spent together happened because he’d not only recognized her desire, but that she’d been able to see how much he wanted her. Since then, they’d continued to share that connection.

Until now.

Something was wrong—something more than his concerns for what she might have done. Juliana had somehow thrown firewalls around her mind and her heart. He could no longer get in.

Worse, he wasn’t sure he wanted to even try. She’d clearly lost faith in him. If she didn’t trust him, what kind of relationship—or partnership—could survive that?

His own heart ached as he struggled for the courage to ask exactly what she’d done in that clinic.

The sound of a toilet flushing was followed by Tracy exiting the
en suite
bath. “Hey, Connor.” Even her tone was a bit flat.

“Hey, Trace.” He fixed his attention back on Juliana. “Are you… okay?”

“What about the McMillans?” she snapped.

The woman was a pit bull when it came to business. Unless he answered her, she’d never quit the topic and allow them to move on to more important matters. “I showed them the house. Again. They checked out the comparables I brought with me, and I wrote a purchase offer for them. They farted around so much, they might be competing with at least one other offer. I’ve got a call in to the listing agent but heard nothing back from her yet.
Now
will you tell me why you were at the women’s clinic? I’ve been worried sick.” He tunneled his fingers through his hair, hating the alarm bubbling to the surface.

Juliana arched an eyebrow. “Were you as worried as I was when I couldn’t find you the last two days?”

Tracy moved to the side of the bed. “You two should have some privacy. You really need to talk.” She threw a worried frown to Juliana. “Need anything before I leave?”

“No,” Juliana replied. “Thanks for everything. You got me through this.”

“Rest,” Tracy ordered before she lightly touched Juliana’s shoulder. She stopped at the door to stare up a Connor. “She’s supposed to take it easy for a while. Don’t let her do too much.”

That order confirmed his worst suspicions.

“I won’t,” Juliana replied as though Tracy had spoken to her. “Thanks for being there.”

“Call me later, Connor. We should talk, too.” With a nod, she gave him a gentle push into the room and shut the door behind her.

Silence reigned.

Connor had so many questions flying through his thoughts he wasn’t sure where he should even begin.

Juliana seemed lost in contemplation as well. She’d set her laptop aside and simply stared at him. She fiddled with the fringe on the afghan draped over her lower legs, pulling it up to her lap.

“Juliana, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry I disappeared on you the last couple of days.”

Her hands dropped to the mattress. “Where were you, Connor? The truth. I need the truth.”

He didn’t need the stern warning in her voice. He wasn’t about to skirt the issue. She deserved the brutal truth. “A casino.”

* * *

Juliana closed her eyes, fighting the sting of tears.

She’d been right. He had been gambling again.

Her chest felt as though she’d taken a sharp blow, making breathing agony. But there was no way she’d let him know how much he’d hurt her.

Hurt?

She was devastated.

Everything in her life now rested like a smashed mirror at her feet. Broken shards were all that remained of her dreams, and each shard shredded a little more of her heart.

Didn’t he understand that he’d shattered her trust in the same way? They were real estate agents. People depended on them to be the epitome of honesty in all they did. They handled their clients’ money.

Shit, they handled their clients’
lives
.

And they were business partners. They should be able to trust each other implicitly. He’d betrayed her trust—destroyed any chance that she could allow him to remain her partner and not have her looking over his shoulder. She’d always have to worry whether he’d transferred money correctly or whether he’d delivered a check. How could she ever truly know if he’d done the right thing for the people who hired them?

Having been a teacher, she understood that even the appearance of impropriety was enough to ruin a career. A Realtor at a casino? Especially after Max Schumm’s horrible smear campaign?

Kelley-Wilson Realty died the moment Connor pulled his car into the casino parking lot.

Even as she fought the urge to roll to her stomach and pummel the mattress until she cried herself to sleep, she thought about all the things she’d have to do to disband the firm and get her teaching job back. That was the only solution. She had to let the firm go and head back to Douglas High School—a failure with her tail tucked between her legs.

Max Schumm would break out in happy song the moment he heard they’d disbanded. Even that horrible thought wouldn’t make her reconsider.

Besides, she had to think beyond herself now. There was more at stake. A lot more.

“Damn you,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry. I really am. It was a slip, but I didn’t gamble, not really. I sat in the—”

As if she’d let him come up with excuses. He was an addict. He should damn well admit his relapse.

She held up a hand to stop him. “Were you at a casino?”

“Yeah, but—”

“But nothing! You went to a casino. You risked everyone—customers, other Realtors, Max Asshat Schumm—seeing you there. That’s all that matters.” A small sob threatened to erupt, but she swallowed hard, forcing it back down. Because she’d given two precious things, her heart and her trust, to the wrong person, her life was unraveling and there wasn’t a fucking thing she could do about it.

“I made a mistake going there. I see that. But you’re keeping secrets, too. Why were you at that clinic?”

There was no way she would let him turn the blame for this confrontation to her. “We’re talking about you, not me.” She breathed a shuddering sigh. “I trusted you. Do you know how hard that was for me? I trusted you! And how do you repay me? By disappearing and keeping secrets. By destroying my life.”

“What about
your
secrets, Juliana?”

Although she knew she was being hypocritical—holding tight to her surprise while bashing him for his—she wouldn’t let him divert the topic. Not yet. He needed to know that she’d given him something rare and dear and he’d spit on her gift. After Jimmy, she’d sworn to never trust a man that way again.

But she’d trusted Connor with her heart and soul.

I’m a pathetic fool.

“What did you do at the clinic?” he demanded.

Tracy had told her addicts liked to deflect blame, and that if he couldn’t be honest and own up to what he’d done and the implications of his behavior, he had no chance to stay clean.

One problem at a time.

“My ‘secrets’ aren’t what we’re discussing,” Juliana insisted. “Not yet.”

That time would come soon. Then he’d see exactly how much betraying her trust had cost him. He had no idea what he’d done and what he’d lost by choosing gambling over her.

“I’m not an idiot, Red. I know what you were doing.” Emotions played across his features, so many and so quickly she had trouble reading anything except the one that finally settled.

Rage.

Juliana’s own rage rose in response. What right did he have to be angry with her? She hadn’t messed everything up! He had!

When he opened his mouth, she beat him to the punch. “How dare you! Do you have any idea what you’ve done to my life?” She picked up the television remote and hurled it at him.

Connor ducked, and the remote hit the wall, shattering into a tangle of plastic and wires. He narrowed his eyes as he fisted his hands against his hips. “How dare
I
? How dare
you
!”

She was so taken aback by the forcefulness of his shout all she could do was gape at him.

“You didn’t even tell me you were pregnant!” he roared. “Then you go off and have an abortion! What the fuck’s wrong with you? Sure, I screwed up. I went to the casino.
Twice.
But I didn’t get out of my car. And you know why?”

Stupefied by his atrocious accusation, she could only shake her head.

An abortion?
He thought she’d had an abortion? What did that say about his true feelings for her?

Sure, she’d waited to tell him she was pregnant. Holding tight to the news was nothing but a matter of sparing his feelings for those first scary weeks. She would’ve told him. Soon.

She wasn’t the bad guy here, and he had no right shifting the spotlight to her to get it off him.

He waited before answering his own question, breathing hard enough his nostrils flared. “I didn’t get out of my car because of you. Because I didn’t want to let you down by having Kelley-Wilson—a name I allowed to please
you
, by the way—get destroyed by that sanctimonious, underhanded bastard. I decided I’d fight back and bring Max Schumm down. I’ve even arranged a press conference where I would humiliate myself and admit to being a compulsive gambler in hopes of clearing the air and getting some of our clients back.”

By saying nothing, Juliana was learning a lot about Connor. Some good things. Some
very
good things—like how much he wanted their firm to succeed.

Unfortunately, there was one thing, one very bad thing, she couldn’t ignore.

He doesn’t love me. He probably never did.

There was no other explanation for his indictment of her character. How could a man who loved a woman accuse her of doing something as deceitful as having an abortion without his knowledge or approval?

She swallowed hard. “I—I want you out of my house. Now. Get the hell out.”

“Juliana…
please
. We need to talk.” He took a few steps toward the bed.

“About what? My abortion?” Her laugh sounded hysterical. “Get out, Connor. I want you out of my house and out of my life. We’ll settle up business matters when I’m well enough to deal with you.”

“Jules?” Mallory’s raised voice came from the kitchen.

“In the bedroom,” Juliana shouted back.

“I’m not leaving,” he insisted. “Not until we talk.”

A tear spilled over her lashes despite her best efforts. She wiped it away with the back of her trembling hand. “There’s nothing to talk about. Go. Just… go.”

“Jules? I came as fast as I—” Mallory stopped short the moment she opened the door and stepped through. “Oh. Sorry. I’ll let you two have some privacy and—”

“Stay,” Juliana insisted. “Connor was just leaving.”