Evie's Bombshell - By Amy Andrews Page 0,40

along just as she was opening the gate and it pulled in when she waved, and she didn’t look back as Finn told her to stop being ridiculous. She just opened the door and told the driver to go, go, go.

A week later Evie was lying in bed on her day off after five day shifts, too exhausted to get up to relieve her full bladder, which the baby was taking great delight in using as a trampoline. She hadn’t heard boo from Finn all week. In fact, she’d only glimpsed him once, and she didn’t know whether that had been his passive-aggressive way of agreeing to do it her way or if he was just off plotting his next grand gesture.

She suspected the latter, although right now she was too tired to care.

Another five minutes of baby gymnastics and she could ignore the need to go no longer. She rolled out of bed and did her business. She was heading back again when there was a knock on her door. She wistfully eyed the corner of her bed, which she could see through the open door.

It was probably just Bella, who had taken to dropping in all the time to check on her. She could probably just ignore it but the knock came again and she didn’t have the heart to leave her sister on the doorstep.

Except it wasn’t Bella when she opened the door. It was Lydia.

Evie blinked, feeling like an Amazon next to the tiny redhead. She tried to suck in her belly but that was no longer possible. ‘Oh … Hi … Lydia?’

Lydia smiled at her as she checked out Evie’s belly. ‘Well, he’s right,’ she said. ‘You’re definitely pregnant.’

‘Er … yes,’ Evie said, struck by how truly bizarre this moment was. Not knowing Lydia’s exact relationship with Finn made this meeting kind of awkward. For her anyway. Lydia didn’t seem ready to scratch her eyes out—in fact, she seemed friendly—so maybe they didn’t have that kind of history?

‘Do you think I could come in?’ Lydia asked. ‘I’ve come on behalf of Finn.’

Evie groaned—Finn had sent an emissary? She was too tired for this. ‘Look, Lydia, if Finn’s sent you to offer me some crazy incentive—money or diamonds or the goose that lays the golden eggs—I really need to let you know right off the bat that you’re wasting your breath.’

Lydia pursed her lips. ‘Oh, dear … the house,’ she tutted. ‘It’s worse than I thought.’

Evie frowned. ‘Huh?’

‘Can I, please, just come in and explain?’ Evie hesitated and Lydia dived in to reassure her. ‘I’ve come on behalf of Finn but he doesn’t know I’m here. He’d be furious if he did. But I haven’t seen him this … bleak in a very long time and I can’t bear it any longer.’

Evie could hear the woman’s genuine concern and worry as she had that day Lydia had told her Finn’s whereabouts. She got the sense that Lydia loved Finn and the spike of jealousy that drove into her chest almost knocked Evie flat. She reached for the door to steady herself, the overwhelming urge to slam it in Lydia’s face warring with her curiosity.

Curiosity won out.

Part of Evie needed to know where Lydia fitted into Finn’s life.

Evie fell back and ushered her inside. She played the perfect hostess, fixing Lydia a cup of coffee and some green tea for herself. They sat on opposite sides of the coffee table, sipping at their drinks for a moment or two, and then Evie voiced what she’d sensed from the beginning.

‘You love him?’

Lydia nodded. ‘Yes.’

Evie gripped the cup at the other woman’s calm response, her pulse pounding in her ears. What must Lydia think of her? Carrying Finn’s baby. Did Finn love her back? Was that why he couldn’t love her?

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know …’ She put a hand on her belly. ‘I would never have … if I had known he was with you.’

Lydia frowned. ‘What?’ She made an annoyed little noise at the back of her throat. ‘He hasn’t told you about me, has he?’ She reached across the coffee table and patted Evie’s hand. ‘Finn’s my brother-in-law. I’m Isaac’s wife. Widow, to be precise.’

Evie felt a rush of relief like a slug of Finn’s whisky to her system. She let out a pent-up breath in a loud rush. ‘His sister-in-law?’

Lydia grinned again. ‘Yes.’

‘Oh,’ Evie said, lost for words as the high robbed her of her ability to form a complex sentence. ‘That’s good.’ She smiled.