Page 67 of Beautiful Storm

“What?”

“You’re pretending I don’t exist. I couldn’t even say thanks. What’s with that? Did you change your mind about being a present father?”

“No. Fuck. I just don’t think we should talk to each other in public.”

“What?” His words catch me off guard, making me frown. He’s the one that said telling people wasn’t an issue. “What happened between ‘where’s my close-up’”—I put on my deepest and best Luke voice—“and now?”

Luke rolls his eyes at my impression but continues on. “I realized you’d be bad for my reputation. Once this is all over I’m going to have a baby. And babies get the ladies. I don’t want them to assume I married you and then left after the baby was born. That would be the opposite of conducive to my goals.”

“Your goals of what? Being the oldest playboy in California? I’m pretty sure Hugh Hefner will always hold that record. No matter how attractive or rich you are.”

“Thanks for the compliment.” He smirks as he raises an eyebrow, but something about it isn’t Luke. I once thought his career and reputation were all he cared about, but that was before he found out about the baby. Now he’s different.

“What’s the real reason?”

“I told—”

“Bullshit.”

“Bullshit? Don’t act like you know me.”

“I do. No matter how much that annoys you, I do.” At least I used to, and I’m certain that boy is still in there somewhere.

Luke curses under his breath as he walks closer. “I don’t want this”—he gestures between the two of us—“to ruin your career.” He pauses and shakes his head before huffing out a laugh. “I’m not always an asshole. It’s going to be hard enough with you being pregnant and… What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

What?I don’t know how I’m looking at him but I’m speechless. I never expected this to be about me. That he wasworried about me. Though considering he fixed my car without gloating, I probably should have considered it. “Thank you. I think.”

“You think?” He barks out a laugh and shakes his head again. “Typical. I once again try to help and you don’t trust me.”

“No.” I reach out and grab his arm when he brushes past me. “That’s not what I meant. Are we really going to be able to do that? I mean, we’re currently alone in my office and we have to work together and—”

“We can talk in a professional sense. If you need me to do something, I’ll do it. Just like I fixed your car.”And here comes the gloating.

“I didn’t need you to—”

“Just accept it and move on. I’m here to help, but we shouldn’t be friendly.”

“Friendly?” It’s been a while since we were truly friendly.

“You know what I mean. To anyone watching, our conversation last week came across as friendly banter. Flirty even. And that can’t happen. Not if we want to keep this quiet.”

“Okay. Thank you.”I don’t know what else to say.

“You’re welcome. I meant what I said; I’m here to help. Send me the details of your lawyer and I’ll keep you up-to-date. Until then, to professionalism.” He lifts his fist for me to bump, and I can’t help but laugh incredulously.

“To professionalism.” I return his bump and he nods before walking away, completely stunning me. “And thank you,” I call out. “For the car.” As much as it pains me to accept his help, it was a nice thing to do.

Why don’t people know this side of Luke?The caring, protective side. I’ve always known he existed somewhere deep down, but it’s strange that he’s never shown it to anyone else. He really should, because the protective side of him iswaysexier than the playboy side he usually projects.

I don’t move until he reaches my door, and I’m about to sit down when he calls out, “Oh, and Amelia, my sister knows.”

His sister?Shit. Why is that worse than if it was a friend?

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Amelia

For the next three weeks, Luke does exactly what he said he was going to do and ignores me outside of professional conversations. Despite wishing I could pretend he didn’t exist for most of my life, I struggle more than he does. Something about pretending we have a work relationship when he’s the father of my unborn child doesn’t sit well with me. But I’m trying.

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