Upstairs Downstairs Baby

“I know.” But she couldn’t picture him as desperate or poor.

“I didn’t go to private school. My mom worked hard to take care of Sawyer and me. When I got old enough to pitch in and help, I did.” As he spoke, his gaze grew more piercing. “So you see, we’re not so different. If I hadn’t been good enough to make it in the majors, our paths might’ve crossed in a restaurant instead.” He frowned thoughtfully.

While she wondered what had prompted his change in mood, a waiter approached to take their drink order. When she ordered a lemonade, Linc shook his head.

“What about a glass of wine?” he prompted. “We’re celebrating, remember?”

She wasn’t sure alcohol was a good idea but didn’t want to disappoint him. “What are you having?”

“I’m going to have a beer.”

“Make it two.” She turned her attention to the menu. “This all looks delicious.”

“Is there anything in particular you had in mind?”

“They’re known for their steampots,” she pointed out, noting there were six to choose from.

“Let’s get the Battery Street Bucket.”

Naturally, he’d pick the most expensive dish on the menu. Her mouth watered as she scanned what all was included. In addition to shrimp and sausage, the pot contained both Alaskan snow and king crab as well as lobster. It was something she’d never have been able to afford, but since Linc insisted they were celebrating, Claire nodded.

“And how about a dozen raw oysters to start?” he prompted.

“Why not.”

When the waiter returned with their drinks, Linc placed their order and Claire selected macaroni and cheese for Honey. Linc insisted they needed a side of hush puppies as well. She laughed as she contemplated how they were going to get through so much food.

“You must be hungry.”

“I worked up an appetite at the batting cages with Knox this afternoon.” Linc took a long pull from his beer and set the bottle down. “He seems to think that I need the practice because of my end-of-season slump.”

“He should be nicer to you. Doesn’t he realize you were under a lot of pressure this year because of what was going on in your personal life?”

Linc snorted. “No one cares.”

“That’s not fair.”

“They’re not paying me all those millions so I can let a failed romance distract me,” he pointed out.

“I suppose not.” She pushed her glass around the weathered table. “But you didn’t have a failed romance,” she countered, unsure where the compulsion to stick up for him was coming from. “You decided things weren’t working. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Sometimes love dies.”

His gaze sharpened. “Are you speaking from experience?”

“Sure.” Claire pondered her relationship with Jasper.

“So you were in love with someone before you met your husband?”

Recognizing her mistake, Claire said, “I guess I thought I was.”

She hated lying to Linc about being married to Jasper but couldn’t change her story a year into her deception. If only she’d thought the whole thing through before deciding life would be less complicated if everyone thought she was still grieving her hero husband. And the truth was, she had moments when she missed Jasper. Or at least the Jasper she’d fallen in love with. The one who’d been a gentle lover and romantic boyfriend.

“You guess?” Linc echoed, his expression curious.

“Sure. I mean, how much does anyone know about being in love when they’re still in their teens?”

“How old were you when you met your husband?”

“I’d just turned twenty. It was Mother’s Day. He’d come into the florist where I started working after high school, looking for a gift for his mom.” She’d thought it was sweet the way he’d considered her opinion on the perfect bouquet.

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