The Thrust (28 page)

Jenna looked over at Emily and Mason, at their happy faces, and squealed. “I know! I can tell! You’re—”

Barker playfully put his hand over Jenna’s mouth, pulling her against his chest. “Let the woman speak.”

“She’s right,” Emily said. “We’re pregnant!”

Wow. Pregnant. A baby—the first baby born in Letliv since the Pulse.

“Congratulations,” he said, shaking Mason’s hand. Mason nodded, smiling.

The girls all hugged Emily, asking if they could touch her belly.

“You won’t be able to feel him yet, but I can feel little flutters sometimes,” Emily said. “Like butterfly wings.”

“How do you know it’s a him?” Jenna asked.

Emily shrugged, smiling secretively. “I feel it. I don’t know how, I just . . . know.”

Trent looked over at Clarissa. She was smiling too, and looked genuinely happy for her friend. But knowing what he did about her daughter, it couldn’t have been easy for her to be reminded about the first fluttering of life in a woman’s womb.

“Hey, Clarissa, can you help me with something in the kitchen?” Trent asked.

She nodded, and went into the kitchen before Trent could even stand up.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Clarissa smiled, but tears shone in her eyes. “I’m thrilled for them. They’ll be wonderful parents. I really . . . I’m glad for them.”

Trent pulled her into his arms. “You can be happy for your friend and still be sad for yourself. That’s normal.”

Clarissa looked up at him. “How do you know?”

“I . . . Karen and I couldn’t have kids. We tried, especially at first. But after we lost the first two to miscarriages, we stopped trying. That look on your face—that’s how Karen used to look when one of her friends would get pregnant. Happy but sad.”

“I had no idea . . .” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“I still want kids, someday. If I can. If not, then . . .” Trent broke off, unsure what he was trying to say. “Then whatever.”

“I’d have a baby with you,” Clarissa said. She gasped, covering her mouth as if she hadn’t meant for the words to escape.

Trent inhaled sharply. “But . . . why?”

Please, please say it’s because you love me.

But of course she didn’t say that.

“Well,” she said, “we
are
sleeping together. Not using protection. I’ve gotten a lot healthier, gained weight, I’m well-nourished now—all the things that kept me from getting pregnant on the Tracks. So if we keep sleeping together, it kind of has to be with the understanding that at some point, there’s a real possibility I could get pregnant.”

“Oh, I see.” Trent didn’t know why that hurt his feelings. “I guess that’s true,” he said. “We could get pregnant at any time. And if we do, I’ll . . . I’ll be happy. Thrilled, actually. I’d try to be the best father I could be for that baby.”

Clarissa smiled, wiping away the errant tear that slipped down her cheek. “Thank you.” She paused. “Just give me a moment to compose myself, and um . . . dinner’s ready. We can call them in to eat.”

Clarissa couldn’t believe
she’d just told Trent she’d have his baby. She may as well have just blurted out all of it—that she loved him, that she wanted them to be a real family. To stop playing house and actually . . .

What?

Have him love her back? Marry her?

Yeah. She sighed, settling down at the table, making sure to keep the smile on her face, for Emily’s sake.

The amazing thing was that he’d agreed to it—that he thought having a child with her was perfectly fine. It made sense, she supposed, since he’d wanted to be a father with Karen. His chance at fatherhood had been stolen when she’d died.

But if they had a baby together, would that make Clarissa, once more, simply a less-than-ideal stand-in for his late wife? Because she didn’t want that.

She wanted Trent to want to be with her for
her
. To want a baby with her so they could have a family, together.

Well, at least she had him by her side. She was living in his house, sleeping in his bed, and they were happy. They could have a baby together, even if he never loved Clarissa the way she loved him. He would love that baby, and that was all that mattered.

Right?

Yes. Loving her would come later, surely. Of course, she’d have to tell him first. Tell him that she was in love with him.

The thought scared the hell out of her.

But . . . a baby! A baby in her future. That was something amazing to hold on to.

Clarissa smiled, watching as Mason put his large hand over Emily’s womb. Clarissa almost reached for her missing necklace, but stopped herself in time. Hopefully, somewhere out there, the baby she’d given up had grown into a happy little girl, with doting parents. The thought didn’t hurt like it used to. Something had changed.

Now, Clarissa looked at Trent, at his strong profile, at the stubble tracing his jawline. Someday, she’d get her chance to have Trent’s baby. A baby she could hold in her arms forever, and never have to give up.

Someday Clarissa would watch Trent playing with a beautiful redheaded child—her child. She didn’t need a necklace anymore to hold on to her past. Now, she had a future.

All she needed to do was tell him how she felt, and pray to God it didn’t ruin everything.

Barker cleared his throat. “We actually have an announcement, as well.”

Jenna grinned, then started laughing at the look Emily gave her across the table. “Not like that. We’re not pregnant or anything. I’ve been dying to tell you guys, but it didn’t seem appropriate, not while everyone was focused on Grand Central.”

Barker smiled at her, and as Clarissa watched, the world disappeared around them, leaving only the two of them gazing into each other’s eyes with undeniable love.

She wanted that so badly. God, she wanted that.

“I’ve asked Jenna for her hand in marriage,” Barker said, “and she said yes.”

“Congratulations!” Clarissa exclaimed, and she meant it. If anyone deserved happiness, it was her friends. Jenna and Barker, Emily and Mason . . . they were perfect together.

“We figure since there’s a pastor in town now, we can make it official,” Jenna explained.

Mason nodded. “That’s great. Em, we should do the same thing, before the baby comes.”

Evan laughed. “What kind of a proposal is that?”

Emily grinned at him and Annie. “The kind that doesn’t need asking. I’ve been calling Mason my husband for a while now. We’ve just never had any way of making it
officially
official. Living alone in the woods, you know.”

Jenna set down her fork. “We could do a double wedding! I mean, if you want.”

Emily looked at Mason, who shrugged. “That’s up to you girls,” he said. A grin spread over his handsome face.

“I’d love to,” Emily said, her eyes shining. “We can have a big party after, invite everyone in Letliv who wants to come.”

Clarissa studiously avoided looking at Trent. When she finally glanced up at him, he was looking at her. Smiling.

Her stomach churned. She was so happy for her friends, but until she told Trent how she felt, even if he didn’t feel the same way . . . she didn’t know how she could stand to watch her friends in love tie the knot.

As hard as it was for her, it had to be even harder for Trent. He had already been married, after all, and he still loved his late wife. It wasn’t fair for Clarissa to expect him to love her just as much. She knew that.

And telling him that she loved him might only serve to remind him of how he felt for Karen . . . the wife he never had wanted to lose.

Clarissa struggled not to twist the napkin on her lap, even as she kept a smile on her face. She was happy for her friends, it just hurt. Happy for them but sad for herself . . . like Trent said. God, he knew her so well.

Tonight, then. After everyone left. She’d tell him tonight—even if it meant ruining everything they had together.

TRENT

LATER
that night, Trent helped Clarissa wash the dishes. Well, she washed them, and he dried them and put them away.

“Pretty exciting news about Jenna and Emily both getting married,” Trent said. He tried to make it sound casual, but his voice sounded strange to his ears.

Clarissa dried her soapy hands on the dishtowel. “Trent, we need to talk.”

Oh fuck.

Nothing good ever came out of a conversation that started like that. He was married to Karen long enough to know that.

“Okay.”

He pulled a chair out for her and she sat, pulling on a piece of her hair, twisting it in her fingers.

He turned a chair around so he could straddle it. It felt better, safer, having the tall chair back as a barrier between them when he felt so vulnerable.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said. “I know that I am nothing like Karen.” She paused, taking in a shaky breath. “I can’t ever replace her. And I know that you said you’d be happy to have a baby with me, but—”

And here it comes
.

“Please, Clarissa,” Trent said. “Wait.”

The barrier the wooden chair back put between them now felt like a wall, and he awkwardly stood, pushing the chair aside.

Fear filled her eyes, as if she didn’t want to ever hear what he had to say right now. “You don’t—you don’t need to have a baby with me,” she whispered.

“Please, Clarissa,” he said again. He knelt on the floor by her feet, taking her hands in his.

He didn’t care if he made a fool out of himself. He didn’t care if he seemed desperate. He
was
desperate.

“Don’t break up with me,” he whispered.

“Break—break up with you?” Clarissa asked. Her surprised expression would have been comical if he weren’t about to die inside.

“I know we were never technically, um, together,” he said. “So break up may seem like a strange word choice.” He sighed. “Fuck, I was never good at this sort of thing.”

“Are we . . . together?” she asked tentatively.

“Yes,” he said. “At least, I hope so. We live together, we share a bed. We’re talking about having a baby together. What more is there?”

Clarissa shook her head sadly. “That’s just it, Trent. There
is
more.” She pulled her cool hands out from his, and touched her face, as if she felt feverish.

“I can give you more,” he whispered. “I’ll give you whatever you need.”

“I don’t think you can do that,” she said. “It’s not like buying someone a gift or just . . . I don’t know, flipping on a switch.”

“Please, please don’t leave me,” Trent said. “I—I love you, Clarissa. I’m sorry. I don’t want to scare you away, but there it is. I’m in love with you.”

Clarissa’s eyes widened, glassy with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, lamely. “It wasn’t on purpose.”

“You love me?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“But I’m—I thought that was never going to happen.” Clarissa didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands. They trembled until she gripped them tightly together in her lap.

“Yeah. It happened. I wasn’t sure I should tell you, but if you’re going to leave anyway, you need to at least know the truth.”

“I’m not leaving you, Trent,” she said. “I was trying to tell you . . . badly, I see that now . . . but I was trying to tell you the same thing.”

Trent paused. “What same thing?”

She laughed, and took his hand in hers. “That I love you. I love you, too.”

Trent wasn’t sure he heard her correctly at first. He’d been so sure she was setting him up for the end, but this . . . Holy shit.

Oh my God
.

“You love me!” Trent grabbed her out of her seat, pulling her into a bear hug, her head pressed against his chest.

“Yes, Trent, I love you.” Her words were muffled against his shirt.

He tilted her chin up.

“How long have you been keeping that a secret?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I think it hit home after the battle, when I couldn’t find you. And I fought it, God knows I fought it. I couldn’t risk losing someone I loved again.”

“I fought it too,” he whispered. “But let’s not do that anymore. We have each other. We’re in love. Let’s just enjoy it while we have it.”

Clarissa nodded, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t believe you love me too,” she said. “I think I’m in shock.”

Trent kissed her, tasting the saltiness of her tears. “Are these happy tears?”

“Yes. I plan on only crying happy tears from now on.”

“Good.” He kissed her again, his mouth melting into hers. “God, I want you. Can we get started on making that baby?”

Clarissa laughed, nodding as she pulled her shirt up over his head and tossed it on the kitchen floor.

Trent could barely contain his desire, but he managed to strip, adding his clothes to the growing pile by their feet.

“Wait!” she cried, and grabbed the dishtowel from the rack, completely naked.

“What—” He laughed as she quickly wiped the large wooden table clean.

“Okay, where were we?” she asked, her eyes shining.

“About to have sex on the kitchen table, I’m guessing,” Trent said.

She nodded seductively, biting her lower lip. He hauled her up until her bare ass touched the edge of the table, her pale legs wrapped around his ass.