Swiping a shaky hand through her hair, Emily turned around, slowly making her way back into the kitchen. Gavin had insisted they didn’t tell Dillon. He firmly felt Dillon didn’t deserve to know she was pregnant until they had a definite answer as to who the father was. Not wanting to buck against his decision, though she had reservations about hiding it, Emily had reluctantly agreed.
Olivia’s words from the club a few weeks ago went off like loud sirens in Emily’s head. This could look bad for her. There was no doubt in her mind Dillon would use this against her in court if he turned out to be the father. The thought chilled her to the bones, flashes of him trying to take away her child sent icicles needling through her heart.
Quietly placing the paper in front of Gavin, Emily pulled in a deep breath, waiting for his reaction. She watched his expression go from slightly confused to impassivity as he read, bleeding into full-blown anger. His eyes lit up like hot coals, rage burning raw behind them. Another shiver spiraled through Emily as he shot to his feet, tossing the magazine onto the counter.
“How the hell did he get this?” he questioned, the confusion he was wearing on his face seconds before returning.
“I have no idea,” she breathed, still in shock.
Gavin shoved his hand through his hair. “Were you ever on a health insurance policy with him?”
Emily nodded. “When I moved to New York, he paid for a private policy because he couldn’t add me to the one he has through the firm without being married. He knew I wouldn’t qualify right away for insurance when I began teaching. But I changed the information with the receptionist the day we went for the test. I don’t understand what happened.” Nervously fingering the locket Gavin gave her for Christmas, Emily started to feel as though she was about to hyperventilate. “He’s going to drag me to court and try to take the baby away from me for not telling him. I need a lawyer. I can’t, I can’t go through this.” She gulped back a sob, her body hunched over. Resting her arm on the cool granite counter, she felt Gavin’s hand on the back of her neck.
“I wouldn’t let him take the baby away from you,” Gavin said, his tone resolute. Trying to catch a breath, Emily shook her head. “Emily, look at me,” he commanded in a soft whisper. Body shaking, she straightened, her watery eyes searching his. “If I have to hire every lawyer in the fucking city, I will. I’d never allow him to hurt you like that. Do you understand me?”
She wanted to believe Gavin, but she couldn’t. Her carefully trained thoughts wouldn’t allow for it. Dillon was gone, but his influence wasn’t far enough removed from her life. This would be his payback. Dear, God. This would be more than payback. She could feel it. Everything manipulative and hideous he’d turned into would surely have its time on stage in the grandest of battles fought out in front of a judging court system that would punish her for hiding this from him. She knew wherever he was at this very second, he was seething and waiting on her call.
“I have to call him,” she puffed out, heading for the office.
Gavin caught her elbow. “We’re not calling him, Emily.”
Eyes wide, she yanked her arm away. “If you think for one minute I’m going to attempt to play any more games with him, you’re wrong. Our glorious plan of not letting him know has blown up in our faces, and I’m not about to chance losing custody rights to him.”
A sense of foreboding slithered up Gavin’s spine and hell if it didn’t fuck with him. “You’re assuming the baby’s his considering what you just said. You do realize this, right?”
“I’m not assuming anything!” she retorted, her vehemence undeniable. She continued down the hall into the office. Picking up the phone, she started dialing Dillon’s number, but Gavin’s large hand plucked it out of her grasp. “What are you doing?” she questioned with a gasp. “I’m calling him.”
Face a mask of anguish, Gavin gently stroked his thumb along her trembling lips. Voice soft, he shook his head. “Emily Cooper, you’re going to calm down. I love a good fight with you, doll, it turns me on, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to fight with you over this asshole ever again.”
“But—”
“Sit down.”
Her hand flew to her hip. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Keep going.” With a wicked smirk, Gavin crossed his arms. “My dick’s growing harder with every word you shout.” Yep. Sure enough it was. Tenting his sweatpants, there was no denying he was getting turned on.
Emily bit her lip and fell into the leather chair in front of his desk. Cocking her head to the side, she narrowed her eyes. “I’m not surprised it’s growing. We haven’t had sex in a few weeks. Not only have you starved me of getting some, it looks like you’ve starved yourself.”
Gavin chuckled, amused by the wit she was starting to so easily display around him. Yeah, he was turning his girl into the tiger he always knew she was. “We’re not here to discuss sex.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “Or lack thereof.”
Hunching his body over hers, Gavin placed both hands on the sides of the chair, his nose barely grazing hers. “Now that you’ve calmed down some, are you ready to talk to me?”
The low, sexy timbre of his voice whispered across her flesh. Damn him. She felt like a schoolgirl getting reprimanded by a teacher. A teacher whom she wanted nothing more than to fuck right there. Pulling in a slow breath, she feigned disinterest. “Fine. Let’s talk.”
“Thank you,” Gavin whispered, slowly backing away. He slipped around his desk, easing into his chair. Tenting his fingers under his chin, he stared at Emily and searched for words that would properly relay what was running through his head. “One: Woman I love more than Valentine’s Day chocolates, woman I would lay my life down for in front of a speeding bullet train, you need to understand the chances of him being able to take this baby away from you are slim to none. He hit you. The courts have that on record.” Emily went to speak, but Gavin held up a silencing finger. She sighed and he continued.
“Two: What you said before… bothered me. I heard the assumption in your voice. Neither of us is stupid. We both know the amount of times”—Gavin cringed at the thought—”you had sex with him in that week pales in comparison with the amount of times you and I did. But I’m banking on my sperm having an insane amount of muscle. Dillon’s a weak man, therefore, he has a weak… army if you will. That puts me as far up in the running for being the father as Asshole. There’s a blue-eyed, black-haired kid hanging out in that pretty stomach of yours as far as I’m concerned.” Gavin shot her a wink, mentally getting off on his girlfriend’s mouth falling open.
“Three”—he reached for the phone—”no, I can’t tell you what to do. But I can tell you if you call him right now, he’s going to be the spineless motherfucker he’s always been. He’s going to put demands on us we may not want. Whatever decision you make, I’ll back you because you’re a walking box of chocolates and I love you, but I don’t want to hear you bitch once Asshole confronts us with any delusional ideas he may have.”
Emily stood, walked around the desk, and deposited herself onto Gavin’s lap. He smiled, his eyes warming her body as she snuggled against his shoulder. She drew circles on the black, worn out Linkin Park T-shirt he was wearing. It’d definitely seen better days. “Mr. Blake, do you think I can talk now?” She smiled, feeling the deep rustle of his laugh vibrating in his chest.