Page 75 of Forced Knocked-Up Mate

“Lucy,” I say firmly, stepping forward so I can take her hand. “I want to talk about everything that happened, but I’m getting pretty worried about you right now. Are you alright?”

Immediately, she reacts, standing up straight and taking a step back from me. She yanks her hand from mine and wraps her arms around herself.

“I’m fine,” she says. “I don’t need your help.”

The cold look in her eyes makes my stomach churn. I can’t believe that just a short time ago, I had this woman’s love, and I was stupid enough to throw it away.

“Okay, that’s fine,” I manage to choke out, trying to sound agreeable. “But can we talk?”

She shakes her head, her eyes looking frightened and sad. “I don’t think so, Peter. I understand that you mean well, but I just can’t right now.”

Disappointment rushes through me, and I struggle not to let it show. My old reactive anger rises against it, my usual defense against any upset that came my way. I struggle to control it, eventually swallowing it down and staying calm in spite of myself.

“I understand,” I say, even though I don’t. “I’ll come back some other time, maybe? I can’t just leave things as they are, Lucy. I need to talk about this.”

“Well, I don’t!” she snaps, sounding worn and tired. “I’m so stressed out, and I can’t handle this right now. Just go.”

Even though her words cut me deep, I don’t budge. “Do you need help today at the shop? I’d like to do some baking, if you have a use for me.”

Her mouth twists, as if she wants to tell me where I can go. But in the end, she just sighs with defeat.

“Yes, actually,” she says. “No matter what my personal feelings are, we do need help at the shop. Your recipes are in demand, and no one can do them exactly the way you do.”

“Glad to hear it,” I say, grinning. “When would you like to go?”

“Just give me a minute to get dressed.”

“Okay.”

I take a step back from the door, still awkwardly holding the gift basket. My heart is hammering like a piston, and sweat is creeping down my hairline. By the time Lucy comes out again, I’ve calmed down a little, but not much.

What if she hates me for what I’ve done, and can’t forgive me?

Don’t think like that.

“Do you want me to drive?” I ask, and she nods.

“Sure, that would be great. I’m really not feeling well today.”

“Are you okay? Have you seen a doctor?”

“I’m fine, Peter,” she hisses. “Everything is under control.”

Her hard tone puts me off asking any more questions. Even though I’m still worried about her, I know better than to pry.

We drive to the bakery in silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward to me. There is tension, but it doesn’t stop me being happy just to be near her.

“Do you like the basket?” I ask.

“Hm? Oh, I see.” She has a look. “Wow, there’s some really nice stuff in here. Thank you, Peter. It’s really thoughtful of you.”

“I’m just glad you like it,” I say with relief. I feel like her acceptance of my gift has paved the way for a conversation at least, even if she isn’t ready to let me back into her heart.

When we arrive at the bakery, it’s incredibly busy. Lucy goes to help at the front counter, and I shoo everyone out of the kitchen so I can bake. Within a couple of hours, I’ve got bread, cakes, pastries, and cookies coming out of the oven and running hot straight onto the shelves.

I’m stacking cupcakes in the front window when Lucy hesitantly asks me to serve.

“Sure,” I answer. “You can count on me.”

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