Chapter Nine

'I'm expecting someone,' Brooke protested.

'Whoever it is will knock,' Lucas replied, crossing to the coffee pot. He turned over a couple of mugs, opening the little fridge. 'There's no milk. Should I call back your minion and ask him to bring you a carton.

Minion.

It was marginally better then 'lovelorn swain', she supposed. But only marginally.

'Don't bother for me,' she said, and her poured two cups of black coffee and placed them on the low table set in front of the sofa.

'You were longer then I expected,' she said, glancing up at him as Grace spit out the teat, with finality that suggested that any further attempt to persuade her to take any more would be a waste of time. 'What took you so long?'

'There was a lot to go through, but clearly I needn't have worried that you'd be lonely.'

Feeling trapped on the sofa, Brooke got up, lifted that baby to her shoulder and, gently rubbing her back, began to pace.

'I didn't realize you and Owen were still a hot item.'

Hot? Hardly…

'When Owen saw the light, he came over to see if there was anything he could do, Lucas. It's what friends do.'

'Yes, I got the "any time, anything" message. Including the shoulder to cry on,' he said, as she turned and came face to face with him. 'You have to understand my surprise. I had to assume that you were, momentarily, unattached.'

He invested 'momentarily' with more then it's usually weight, bringing a flush to her wet cheeks, drawing quite unnecessary attention to them.

Lucas produced a clean handkerchief and, taking her chin in his hand, he gently blotted first her eyes, then her cheeks, before unbuttoning on of the pockets on her thin silk shirt and tucking it against her breast.

She opened her mouth but no words came and she closed it again. Then jumped as he carefully refastened the buttons she had slipped open for Grace, her entire body trembling as the warmth of his fingers shot like an electric charge to her heart.

'Don't…' was all she could manage. 'Please.'

It was too painful. Too sweet…

He let his hands drop, stepping away from her, and it took all she had not to scream out a desperate, No…., because that felt wrong, too.

'In view of the fact that you were carrying a baby for Haley,' he continued calmly, as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't just touched her, switching her on as easily as if he'd switched a light on, undoing, in a moment, ten years of keeping all her feelings battened down.

She stared at him, uncomprehending, having entirely lost the thread of what he was saying.

'I don't imagine there are many men who could handle that. Not even Owen.'

Owen. The surrogacy….Got it.

'Actually, you might be surprised. There are surrogates who, having completed their own families, want to help childless couples archive their own dreams. They're fully supported by their partners.'

She'd done her homework, knew the answers without having to think,

'And is that the what your friend did? Support you?'

Friend was loaded, too.

Okay. Hands up. She was the one who'd gone out of her way to give Lucas the impression, over the years, that she had a continuous string of boyfriends. Not that he'd taken much interest on his flying visits.

It was as if, after their last night together, he'd totally wiped her from his mind. As if the minute their relationship had changed from one of intimacy to friendship she'd become just another girl.

Just like the girls she'd once almost pitted because she'd always known that men don't stick around, no matter how much they say they love you.

Which made it doubly surprising that he had remembered Owen's name. They'd only met once as far as she was aware.

'Well,' she said, 'on the plus side, he didn't arrive in the middle of the night like some avenging angel, demanding that I stop being such a fool. Dose that answer your question?' Then, tired of playing games, 'I have no idea how Owen felt about Gracie, Lucas. I didn't discuss what I was doing with him. It was none of his business.'

'That's pretty much what you said to me a year ago.'

'I didn't know…'Her mouth was dried and, suddenly afraid, she held Grace a little more tightly because it had everything to do with him. Maybe, then, if she hadn't responded with outraged anger, but had taken time to sit down, listen, he might, despite his sworn promises to Nathan, have told her the truth. 'You should have told me.'

'What would that have achieved? You were already pregnant.' Then 'You're quite sure Gracie is mine?'

'What?' That was so far from what she'd been thinking that Brooke took an involuntary step back, stumbling against one of the chairs.

As Grace let out a startled cry, Lucas reached out for her and steadied her, then laid his palm against Grace's head, calming her, giving Brooke a chance to catch her breath.

'Is she?' he repeated, so intently that she knew without doubt that he wanted it to be so. That, despite his opposition, despite everything, he desperately wanted this little girl to be his child.

For a moment it felt as if the world has truly been made over. But joy swiftly faded into something closer to fear.

Taylor had said it. "He seems attached."

For ten years she'd been living in a fantasy world in which Lucas Scott was her hero, the broody boy she'd fallen in love with. But what did she know about was the man he'd become? At home he was just Lucas, but in the real world he was a power to be reckoned with. A man who'd made his fortune. Who'd broken her heart when he'd brought home a blushing bride, then on his next visit announced, without apparent emotion that the marriage had been a mistake. A man who other men treated with respect and, maybe fear. A man who saw only the prize…

She'd wanted him to bond with Grace and, against all the odds, it seemed that he had. Now, too late, she realized that it was not his stepmother, or Haley's family, who she'd have to fight to keep her baby. It was him.

'I've only your word for that, Lucas,' she said, crossing to the stroller and tucking Grace in, fastening her safely, freeing herself for the fight before turning to face him. 'It never occurred to me to doubt you, but maybe we'd both be easier in our minds if we had a DNA test.'

'What? No…'

Not the answer he'd expected, she noted with a glimmer of satisfaction as he took a step towards her.

Her feet wanted to take another step back, keep a safe distance between them, but her head demanded she hold her ground. One step could be put down to shock. Two looked like a retreat and this was a moment for standing her ground.

'Just in case Nathan came to his senses,' she continued, as if he hadn't spoken. 'That would let you off the hook, wouldn't it?'

She knew that wasn't what he'd meant, but the alternative was too shocking to deserve acknowledgement.

'You made it very clear that you were simply going through the motions to keep him happy,' she said. 'That an actual baby was the last thing you'd anticipated or wanted, and I can understand why you wanted to put a stop to it…'

She faltered, stopped, hearing what she was saying and realizing that it wasn't true. She didn't understand. Worse, she was still pretending, still hiding, protecting herself from hurt. But this was more important then her feelings. More important then his.

Overwhelmed by a heart-pounding rush of anger at his selfishness, she said, 'Actually, no, I can't imagine why you'd be that cruel, but then I do have a heart.'

The raw slash of color that darkened Lucas' cheekbones was a warning that she'd gone to far, but she discovered that she didn't give a damn. He'd just insulted her beyond reason and she wasn't going to stand there and take it.

'Unless,' she continued with a reckless disregard for the consequences, 'you really think that I'd cheat my best friend, foist a child conceived out of careless passion rather then a clinical donation on a couple so desperate that they would have done anything, even lied to the person they loved most in the world…'

If she'd hit him the effect couldn't have been more dramatic.

'No!' he said, and it was too late to step back as he surged forward, seized her, his fingers biting into her arms. 'No!'

'No what?' she demanded, meeting his furry head-on and refusing to be intimidated, refusing to back down. She owed it to Grace, owed it to herself, to stand up to him. 'No what?' she repeated, when he just stood there, staring at her as if he'd never seen her before. Well, he hadn't seen her like this in a long time. Empowered by motherhood she was ready to take on the world again.

He took a shuddering breath that seemed to come from deep within his soul and then, never taking his eyes off her, said 'No. I don't need a DNA test. No. I don't want to be let off the hook. No. I don't believe you'd lie to me…' He broke away, as if he couldn't bear to look at her. 'I'm sorry, but when I saw you with Owen, his arms around you, you looked like a family and it just all seemed to make perfect sense…'

He looked so utterly hopeless and where a moment before she had been angry, now she didn't know what to think. She only knew what she felt. Grief. Confusion. Fear at the enormous responsibility for a precious life.

And maybe part of her anger was because she suspected he'd been right when he'd accused her of being too scared to risk a relationship, move on, make a life away from the safety of the family of her own making.

Had pinning after him been the safe option?

'Lucas?'

The muscles in his jaw were working as he clamped down to hold back tears and in a heartbeat the tables were turned. She could weep, but he was a man. Faced with loss, all he could do was get angry, lash out.

He was grieving, too, and just as he'd reached out to her that moment when she'd woken in the kitchen, now she reached out to him.

'I know,' she said, lifting her hand to his face, feeling the silkiness of the close-cut beard against her palm, the bone that molded the face she knew as well as her own. Every mark, every tiny dint that life had put into it. The creases that bracketed his mouth when he smiled. The white fan of lines around his eyes where the sun never reached. The thin scar on his forehead where he'd hit it in a car accident with Keith. 'It's okay to cry.'

And, laying her cheek against his heart, she wrapped her arms around his chest and held him close. 'You're frightened and that's okay. I understand. I'm frightened too.'

Lucas, crushing her to him, didn't think there was a snowball's chance in hell that she understood one damn thing about what he was feeling. She had never understood and why would she when he'd never told her?

She would never know how he'd felt when he'd come home after his first book tour, expecting to find her waiting for him, green eyes sparkling, the way she'd always been there. Knowing that he'd let her down. He'd spent the first week away expecting a call from Nathan, hulling him back to face up to what he'd done. To make him pay for hurting her, leaving her again. When that didn't happen he'd know that Brooke had not said anything, was playing tough for her friends, and that made him feel even worse.

He'd tried to write, but had been unable to write the words he knew she'd want. But he couldn't stay away for ever he'd known that she'd be waiting for him, eyes shinning with that look he hadn't been able to get out of his head. The look in her eyes when he'd kissed her, undressed her, taken her. It was a 'forever' look. A look that would hook a man, haul him in, nail him down, because a decent man couldn't walk away from a look like that. Not from a girl like Brooke.

But she hadn't been home when he had pitched up after twenty-four hours traveling with his mothers ring weighing down his pocket. And she had eventually turned up, only just in time for dinner, she was not alone, but had brought a boyfriend home with her and those sparkling green eyes had been only for him.

And that had been worse. He'd wanted to grab the guy, beat him to a pulp, then drag Brooke down to his room and make love to her until that look was back in her eyes, but only for him.

And better. Because that selfish gene he'd inherited from his father had been consumed with relief.

Relief had won. He could relax, knowing that what had happened between them had meant nothing more to her then a way to help him move on from his marriage.

That she hadn't been sitting around waiting for him to come back and claim her, but had moved on. Had found someone new, someone closer to home, to share her days and nights with.

That night he'd tossed the ring into the trash can in the tiny basement bathroom, cut short his visit, flown back to his knew life.

After she had left him in high school he'd thought he'd found what he was looking for in the blue-eyed, blond, Peyton who always seemed to be standing in front of him when Brooke was pushing him away. Peyton who'd realized her mistake and left him just as quickly as they had gotten together. Peyton who was now happily married to someone who appreciated her, the man he knew she had really always belonged with, while Brooke…

She didn't understand but, wrapped like this in her arms, drowning in the warm scent of her, a wisp of hair tickling his chin, he wasn't about to argue with her.

'You're tired. Grieving. In shock,' she said.

No. She had no clue…

'And,' she said lifting his head to look up at him, her clear green eyes demanding nothing less then the truth, 'I suspect you've got bad news for me.'

'Not bad.' He hadn't thought so, but maybe she'd see it differently. He continued to hold her, meeting her unwavering gaze.

'But not good.'

'Mixed,' he said. 'It was pretty much as I thought. Haley and Nathan instructed the lawyer to draw up new wills for them both. There were some bequests, but the bulk was left to Gracie.'

'That's what I expected,' she said impatiently. 'Tell me the rest.'

'The lawyer had advised naming a guardian for Gracie and Nathan named me without consulting Haley.'

'Because you were her biological father.'

'He didn't tell me about it, Brooke, I swear it. I imagine he thought I'd never know, but it must have seemed to him to be the right thing to do. And maybe he hoped that Haley would accept that, as his executor, it made sense.'

'But she didn't.'

'How could she?' He wanted her to know that he understood. 'She apparently blew up in the office, reminding Nathan, with every justification, that I had been anything but supportive. That you had given birth to Gracie.'

'And?' Then, when he couldn't bring himself to say the words, 'Tell me, Lucas!'

'Joint custody was suggested as a compromise, but she just said that with us living on oppiste sides of the country- sometimes opposite side of the world that was ridiculous. She didn't stay to argue, but left, leaving Nathan to wrap up the meeting.'

'So nothing's been settled? It's all still up in the air? Open season on our daughter?'

'No…' Then, again, 'No, Nathan signed his own will, just a temporary measure until they'd talked it through, before he followed her.'

It took a moment for exactly what that meant to sink in and then she said, 'Oh, Fuck' He caught her as he legs crumbled beneath her, held her, but, before he could reassure her, she said, 'She told him, didn't she? That's why they left the hotel so early.' She looked up at him, her face stricken. 'Why Nathan went off the road.'

'No…'

'Yes! He was always so careful, but the police said that he was driving close to the limit on a winding country road, That he couldn't have seen the mud slick until it was to late.'

'You can't know that, Brooke!'

'They set out before breakfast and I thought it was just because they were so egar to get home. At least I had the comfort of beleaving they were happy, excited at coming back to their baby, but if se told him…'

'Please, Brooke, don't do this to yourself.'

'If he'd told her, Lucas.; She shook her head as if to drive the desperate thoughts from her mind. 'What state would they both have been in?'

'Maybe they were relived. Happy that they didn't have any more secrets. Maybe they just wanted to get home so that they could tell you that.' He thought about the calls he'd ignored on his BlackBerry. Had Nathan called him, thinking that if everyone knew the truth, he'd be okay with it? 'Listen to me, Brooke Davis.' He said, grasping her by the shoulders, shaking her. 'Look at me.'

She obeyed, raising her lashes clumped with tears she'd shed, eyes stricken with grief that tore at his heart. 'Whatever happened is not your fault. You gave them what they wanted most in the world. We both did what we thought was best.'

'Dammed with good intentions.' She rubbed her hand across her cheek, glancing at it in surprise when it came away dry, then straightened, took a step back and, breaking free, said, 'Well at least you'll have your daughter to console you.'

'Gracie is our daughter, Brooke. Yours and mine.'

'You keep saying that, but you'll be the one to make all the decisions about her future. To say where she lives. Who looks after her.'

'Haley wanted you to take care of her. I want that, too.' He saw a flash of hope brighten her eyes.

'Then give me custody, Lucas,' she begged. 'As her guardian you can do that can't you?'

'Yes,' he said, 'but…'

'You could come and see her whenever you want,' she said. 'She could even come and visit you when she'd …'

'I could,' he said, cutting her off before she betrayed exactly how little she thought of his ability to make an emotional commitment. 'But I won't.'

He turned to look at Grace, who was watching the spangle of lights spinning across the ceiling, making excited noises as she reached up to catch the colors.

He'd been thinking about her ever since the lawyer had told him that Nathan had left her in his care.

He'd been so sure that he was going to hand her over to Brooke. Put in flying visits, offer advice, be there for them both when they needed him. But basically keeping his distance.

But Nathan had wanted him involved, had wanted his little girl to know her father. And as he'd walked back to Brooke's store it was Grace's smile as she'd grabbed at his beard, her warm baby smell, the joyful way that she stretched for each new sight, experience that had filled his head and he'd known that.

'I'm the only father that Gracie is ever going to have and se deserves more from me.' He turned to look at Brooke, white-faced at the bluntness of his refusal, her hand to her mouth. 'From us.'