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Authors: Cheryl Brooks

Stud (10 page)

BOOK: Stud
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She hadn’t mentioned the tip he’d left her on the first day. Tarq was a generous tipper as a rule, but he’d never left one that big and still wasn’t sure why he’d done it. But the more he considered the matter, the better it seemed. A tip was discreet. He wasn’t making a big show of giving her some expensive bauble. She could tuck the money in her apron, just as she would do with any other gratuity, and never mention the amount to anyone. She could use the cash to buy things she truly needed, as opposed to useless flowers or jewels. Perhaps he’d known what he was doing after all.

Tarq watched as Lucy returned with his order, her expression neutral except for the dimple in one softly rounded cheek. Tarq was developing quite an attachment to that dimple, for it seemed to be the one thing she couldn’t control—well, maybe not the
only
thing, but one that was at least obvious when she was out in public.

“This is fun,” he said as she leaned closer to set the bowl in front of him.

“For you, maybe.”

Tarq thought she sounded a little miffed and a deep breath confirmed it. Her scent was a blend of lust and irritation. “You aren’t mad at me, are you?”

The shake of her head was barely perceptible. “No, it’s not you. I just wish I could—oh, never mind.” She hurried off to wait on another table, leaving just enough of her fragrance behind to send blood surging back into his groin. Tarq had never been up and down so often in his life. He felt like an inflatable toy in the hands of an indecisive child.

What was it she wished she could do? Tarq knew exactly what
he
wanted to do. He wanted to pull her into his lap and kiss her until she couldn’t see straight, but was it the same for her? The sharp tang of her lust lingered, giving him at least one clue, but the irritation? What was its source?

Perhaps he’d made a mistake in coming here. He was feeling almost as miserable and frustrated as he had when he’d stayed away. Well, maybe not quite—at least this way he could see and talk to her and inhale her luscious fragrance—but not being able to touch her or taste her bordered on torture.

When Lucy picked up his salad plate and brought his entrée, Tarq fully intended to simply smile and say thank you, but the words came out anyhow. “I wanted to see you, Lucy. Is that so wrong?”

“No, of course not. It’s just that I don’t want anyone connecting us.”

Tarq felt a pang strike somewhere near his heart. “Oh.”

“I mean, I don’t want to get you in trouble. I can handle anything that gets thrown at me, but this is… different from your other jobs, isn’t it?”

“The having to keep it a secret, you mean?”

“Yeah, that.”

“But I’m here as a customer. I’m not making trouble, and I’m a good tipper.”

She winced. “A little too good.”

“Is that bad?”

“Maybe.” She hesitated, and then went on, keeping her voice down. “Feels like you’re trying to pay me child support.”

Tarq was about to say something—whether he would have agreed or protested, he wasn’t sure—but she wasn’t finished.

“I’m gonna do something really stupid if you’re here all the time—something that might give us away, and I don’t want to mess this up now. Timing is everything, you know.”

“Yeah, I suppose so. But I’d still like some more of your chocolate pie.”

That got a smile out of her—one that warmed his heart. “I can understand that.” Giggling, she returned to the kitchen.

According to his scan, it was likely that she would conceive tonight. He’d forgotten that, but the fact that she remembered only reinforced what he already knew. Another pang stabbed his heart. His only purpose was to sire offspring and move on. Being anyone’s lifelong mate was out of the question, and he knew he wasn’t good enough for a woman like Lucy. There was no point in getting all worked up for nothing. He would have the night to fulfill his desires.

A few minutes later, Tarq heard an argument begin between Lucy and her father. He grimaced at the man’s harsh voice. From the sound of things, her father had seen Lucy giggling as she left his table.

Tarq hadn’t even finished his entrée when Lucy returned with his pie. “Got your scanner with you?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Do me a favor and scan me. My father is giving me hell for even talking to you. Tonight had better be the night or this may not work.”

Tarq reached into his pocket and withdrew the device. After a quick check of the settings, he ran the scan.

The results nearly stopped his heart.

Tarq wanted to lie so badly it hurt, but he couldn’t. “You’re pregnant. With triplets.”

Chapter 7

“Thank God,” Lucy said fervently. “I’m not sure we could risk meeting again.” Then she realized what it would mean. She would have three of his children, but she would never see Tarq again. Her stomach heaved with sickness unrelated to her pregnancy. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, forcing the nausea to subside. After today, it wouldn’t matter if Tarq ate every meal in her father’s establishment; Lucy would be long gone.

That ridiculous argument with her father had solidified her conviction. There was no point in waiting for the inevitable scene with her father when he discovered the news. She would leave for Yalka as soon as she was sure her family was asleep. The journey to Yalka would be hard enough, which meant that leaving before she began to feel any symptoms was best. In the meantime, she would play the part of the dutiful, repentant daughter to the very best of her ability. Being convincing wouldn’t be difficult. After all, she’d had plenty of practice.

Tarq slipped the scanner back into his pocket. “Congratulations.” His voice sounded flat, as though the news brought him no excitement, no joy. It was simply the acknowledgement that his obligation to her was now fulfilled and it was time to move on to the next client. He didn’t feel any of the same things she was feeling. This was what he did, and she wasn’t beautiful enough or special enough to change that. She was simply another client. There was no point in pleading with him.

“Thank you.” She nearly choked on the words. “I’ll take very good care of them.”

“I’m sure you will. Don’t forget the registry.” His expression was as wooden as his voice.

“I won’t.” Lucy couldn’t bring herself to say good-bye. She really
would
have choked on that one. Nodding slowly, she moved on to another table.

She took the next order with all the animation of a poorly programmed droid.
I
should
be
happy.
Telling herself that didn’t make it happen, however. Pain unlike any she’d ever felt blossomed in her heart, fanning out across her chest.

“Order up!” Her father’s voice cut through her like a knife. Crossing the floor to the warming counter, Lucy picked up the plates, ignoring his scowl. Delivering the order to a trio of elderly ladies out to enjoy the day together, Lucy wished she was one of them with all her heart. They didn’t have fathers who berated and belittled them. Someday she would be every bit as free. That day couldn’t come soon enough.

Lucy avoided any painful glances in Tarq’s direction on her return to the kitchen. Better to begin their separation now and not give her father any more fuel for his suspicions. Tarq obviously knew how to leave women behind. He’d done it hundreds of times. If only moving on hadn’t been so new to Lucy.

Jublansk looked up from her kneading as Lucy passed but didn’t comment as she went out the rear door, shutting it behind her. With her back against the wall, Lucy bent over with her hands braced on her knees as the pain hit her again. Her chest constricted with the effort to control her emotions, but they spilled out anyway. Muscles knotted on the back of her neck and her breath came in short gasps. She did her best to focus on the new life ahead of her, but for a little while, she had to mourn the one she was leaving behind. The one that included Tarq.

Natasha would be delighted to see her. Lucy had no doubt of that. She would be free at last. Once she was gone from here, her father couldn’t make her return. He would have no means to coerce or bully her. If, indeed, he ever found her.

These thoughts strengthened her resolve and straightened her spine. Wiping her tears with a corner of her apron, she walked back inside.

“You all right?” Jublansk asked.

Lucy nodded. “Yeah, just needed some… air.”

Jublansk obviously didn’t believe her. “Uh-huh. Your father getting on your nerves?”

“Yeah.” It was, after all, the perfect excuse. “So what else is new?”

“Not much—unless there’s something you’d like to tell me.”

Lucy would have welcomed the opportunity to unburden herself to Jublansk, but the less she knew, the better. As far as anyone knew, Lucy had never heard from Natasha once she had left Reltan. Knowing that her overbearing father would do his best to prevent her from even going on a brief visit, Lucy had kept that to herself. Unfortunately, her dissatisfaction was well known to Jublansk, who was the closest thing to a friend Lucy had left. In fact, she was more like a mother.

“No, nothing new. But thanks for asking—and for being here.” Lucy felt more tears attempting to flow. She hadn’t realized just how hard it would be to leave the stout Twilanan behind.

“I’ll always be here. When you need me, you know where to find me.”

Lucy nodded her reply, wondering if Jublansk knew more than she let on. Jublansk was very shrewd and could see though most lies. Fortunately, Lucy hadn’t been forced into telling an outright lie—yet.

Gathering up salads and bread for a rough-looking group of Terran men from Madric, Lucy headed out.

The first thing she noticed was Tarq’s empty table. Doing her best to ignore the ache it caused her, she went on to serve the salads without comment. Unfortunately, her customers weren’t as considerate.

“I’m glad that filthy Zetithian is gone,” one of them said. “Couldn’t stand the smell.”

Lucy frowned. “He doesn’t smell bad.”
But
you
do.

“He ought to. The fuckin’ man-whore. Sonofabitch has had his dick in more pussy than a studhorse.”

Lucy was at a loss for words—and it wasn’t only because of the man’s nasty mouth. Should she defend Tarq and risk drawing attention to her feelings toward him? Or ignore the asshole? “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“We saw you talking to him,” another man said. His hair was thinning, and unkempt stubble darkened his face. “Your father is right. You need to stay away from his kind. They’re dangerous.”

And
you’re ugly.
Lucy’s eyes began to twitch as she fought the urge to roll them at the man. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Lucy carried her empty tray over to clear Tarq’s table. He’d eaten every bite of the pie.

And left her a thousand-credit tip.

The twitch in her eye became more pronounced. Lucy blinked and looked again. Still there. Still a thousand credits.
Oh, my God.

Lucy was torn between wanting to berate Tarq for his extravagance and offering him her profound gratitude, though the fact that she’d probably never see him again made it a moot point. A few more tips like that and she could buy her own house without having to bother Nat at all.

Lucy worked through the rest of the day feeling like she had a dozen trelinks chasing each other around in her stomach. It wasn’t every day a girl found out she was pregnant with triplets and had to leave home. The money Tarq had given her would help enormously, but she had no intention of spending it anytime soon. She devoted considerable thought to how to conceal it from potential thieves, and then realized that no thief worth his salt would give her a second glance.

Still, it paid to be prepared. Her father had a pulse pistol in the drawer of his desk at home. Lucy knew it was there because she was the only one who ever cleaned anything. Her father wouldn’t miss it—at least not immediately. Fortunately, the desk wasn’t in her parents’ bedroom. The thought of needing to arm herself was a little scary. Prior to this, she’d never felt the need for protection from anyone but her father—though those guys from Madric were a little unnerving. Lucy hoped Tarq never ran into them again. They were the sort who wouldn’t feel any qualms about roughing him up a little. They’d probably see it as a public service.

***

That evening, Lucy went through her things as silently as she knew how. She didn’t have much—not even a suitcase—and most of the evening was spent sewing up a makeshift duffel bag out of an old sheet, cutting off the hemmed portion and doubling it over to use as a carrying strap. It was a long walk to Yalka and she would need the rest of her bedding to camp out along the way, along with extra clothes and a towel. She threw in her needle and thread just in case the bag needed repair along the way. Food wasn’t a problem since she had a key to the restaurant and could stock up before she left. The fact that she’d never done anything of this sort before didn’t deter her in the slightest. The only limiting factor was how much she could carry.

BOOK: Stud
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