Landon turned and walked inside, his legs shaky. He felt like he’d taken a two-by-four to the gut. For one scant, surreal moment, he’d thought Rachel had lied to him sixteen years ago. That instead of terminating her pregnancy, she’d kept the child they’d created. Had moved to her aunt’s house, not because she wanted to finish school at a different college like she’d claimed when she left him, but to have the baby. Their baby. For a split second, he’d thought I’m a father.
Then Rachel had set him straight. He turned fourteen today.
Definitely not his.
Otto waved a gnarled hand from a corner booth in the crowded, dim steakhouse. Landon strode over and sat across from the man. He wondered if Otto had children. Grandchildren. The waitress brought two Old Fashioneds while Otto complained about the heat, and Landon lifted the disgusting drink and downed half of it in one putrid swallow.
The older man watched, his untamed, wiry eyebrows shooting in all directions. “Easy, son, we have to make a toast,” he said, cheeks red from the last Old Fashioned he’d drank.
Son. Landon nearly laughed.
“To Windy City and Downey Design.” Otto raised his glass. As their glasses clinked, he added, “And leaving a legacy.”
He was talking, of course, about the legacy of his potato chip business. The mark on a town his family had inhabited for at least the last century. None of which would have been possible if there were no future or past generations to start and finish it.
Otto continued to jabber on about his various body aches and how his doctor recommended he stop drinking. “The drink is the only thing I look forward to,” he said gruffly as he studied the menu.
Landon stabbed the cherry at the bottom of his glass with the plastic straw, and there, in the last place he’d expected to find himself, in the oddest company for such a poignant moment, he had an epiphany.
It was a thought he’d never imagined entertaining again. But it was there, and as real and solid as the glass in his hand.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It was unfair to show up like this. Just barge into Landon’s office unannounced. He was a busy man. A man who—
“May I help you?”
Kimber turned to the smiling secretary, a woman in her fifties with dyed orange hair and a flowery blouse.
Too late to run now.
“I’m here to see Landon Downey. I wasn’t sure if I needed an appointment. I guess I could call him.” She should have called him. Only she hadn’t known she was coming to see him until she stepped into his building. She’d gone out shopping today and then found herself wandering. Like a moth to the flame…
“Kimber?”
She turned to see Landon stepping out of the elevator, one hand casually in his pants pocket, his sharp navy suit making his body appear powerful, solid. Like a good place to cast her worries. And her worries were ample. They walked toward each other, both stopping short of inappropriate distance.
“How are you?” she said.
His eyebrows were drawn together. He had to know what she was doing here after not seeing him for almost a month. There was only one reason for her to be here. Only, she was here for more than the obvious reason. She missed him.
Her life had been empty, strange, since they’d parted that day in Hobo Chic. Even though she knew she had no claim to him, she’d begun bargaining with herself. Asking questions like, why couldn’t she date him a while longer? And finding no suitable answer.
Her loft apartment above her store used to be her sanctuary. Over the last two weeks it’d felt less homey than before. She couldn’t explain why. Nothing had changed. Except for her. She felt like she hadn’t taken a full breath since she’d left Landon’s penthouse for the last time.
And now she wasn’t sure if she’d take a full breath ever again. Not until she talked to him.
His eyes flitted around the lobby before drilling into hers. “I’m late for a meeting across town.” He pulled his hand from his pocket and grimaced at the oversized watch on his wrist. “I can’t miss it, but I don’t want to leave you like this.”
Like this. He thought she was pregnant. “It can wait,” she insisted.
He breached the space between them and palmed her shoulder. “It can’t, but I have to go.” Anguish clouded his eyes. “Do me a favor.”
Anything to get the look of hurt off his face. She nodded.
“Go to my house. Order some lunch. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be home in two hours, three tops. But don’t…” He shook his head like he was at a loss for words. “Don’t do anything until we talk.”
Don’t do anything. Like have an abortion? Her thoughts went back to his confession about his college girlfriend. The pain and regret clouding his eyes when he’d confessed.
“Okay,” she promised.
He closed his eyes as he pulled in a breath, and she could swear he looked relieved. Then he shocked her by leaning in and kissing her. Nothing alarming about a chaste, feather-soft touch of their lips, other than the fact he’d done it in front of a sea of people he worked with; who worked for him.
“Wait for me,” he whispered. Then he strode out of his building and into the bustling street.
* * *
If he was at the business end of a loaded gun, Landon wouldn’t be able to recite a single topic covered of the two-hour meeting he’d just attended. Concentration had been a pipe dream; his thoughts trained only on Kimber, and how beautiful she’d looked standing in the lobby of Downey Design. The way she’d worn her hair, in smooth copper waves around her face. The oversize shirt and leggings coasting along those deliciously curved calves.
He had no idea if she was pregnant, or if she’d come to tell him she wasn’t, but whatever the news he wouldn’t ask her to blurt it out in the twelve seconds before he’d had to rush out the door.
He also had no idea what he was hoping for—positive results or negative. Yes, seeing Rachel last week had thrown him for a loop. Had cemented the decision that he’d like to have a child. In the future. He wasn’t sure when the best time was to start a family, but he knew now wasn’t ideal.
What about college? Was college ideal?
Impatiently, he pressed the button for the penthouse floor twice. One of his co-workers had quipped once that there was no perfect time to have kids, only bad timing and worse timing.
He chuffed a bone-dry laugh.
During the short elevator ride up to his house, he allowed himself to think what if. What if she was pregnant? He was a radically different man than he’d been in college. Income was no longer an issue. He owned a stable, thriving company that was relevant and sought after in a respectably big city. And he was older now, and hopefully wiser. He knew what it took to provide for a child.
On paper, anyway.
He wondered how Kimber felt about all of this. If she’d continue to run her clothing store if she was pregnant. He winced as he walked to the door and pulled his keys out of the lock. All those hours on her feet wouldn’t be good for her or the baby. And he’d have to see about moving the store to a safer neighborhood, somewhere closer to his place… near a good private school. Maybe a charter…
Not that he was getting ahead of himself or anything.
He put his hand on the knob, then paused. Best to prepare for the other likelihood. That she had started her period and was here to set his mind at ease. Or the other, other option. That she was pregnant but didn’t want to keep their baby. His stomach twisted to the point of nausea. Surely, God wouldn’t let that happen to him twice. If she didn’t want to have this baby, he’d have to convince her. He wouldn’t lose the opportunity of fatherhood. Not again.
If there was a baby.
He walked in to find Kimber at his kitchen table, waiting for him like he’d asked. A can of Sprite with a straw sticking out of it stood in front of her. Late-day morning sickness? Avoiding caffeine for the baby?
Could you jump to any more conclusions?
He dropped his things on the kitchen tab
le and pulled up a chair. “Hey,” he said much more casually than he felt.
She sent him a small smile. “I’d ask you about your meeting but you probably don’t want to talk about it.”
He shook his head. Tried to read her expression. Failed. He wanted to lean forward and touch her somehow. Put his hands in her hair, wind his fingers around hers, tug her chair closer. But he didn’t.
“Not unless you want to. Pretty boring stuff.” He relaxed his back against the chair while his insides churned.
She surprised him by standing. “I want to show you something.” He took her outstretched hand, longing flooding his body on contact. He’d really missed her. The kiss he gave her at his office had left him wanting more. Of all of her.
She led him through the hallway, around the corner, and into her old bedroom. Then into the bathroom.
Pregnancy tests were scattered from one end of the sink to the other. His heart collided with his rib cage and his knees actually weakened. He held on to the door frame and stared.
Unopened. The boxes were unopened. He shot her a questioning look. What’s going on?
“I’m late. A week or so. But I didn’t want to get the results until you were here. I didn’t want to steal this moment from you. I wanted you to have the same amount of time to process once we find out. Together.”
She didn’t know if she was pregnant or not. And he didn’t know if that made him feel better or not. He nodded, dazed. “Okay.”
“You look sick.”
Because he had no idea what she was thinking. He barely knew what he was thinking.
“I’ve been downing water and soda since I got here. So I have to pee.” She laughed lightly. Lightly, during one of the heaviest moments of his life. “I’m going to take as many of them as I can so we’ll know for sure. And then we can talk.”
He braced one foot against the door to keep from passing out.
Kimber came to him, feathering her fingers into his hair. “I won’t do anything without you. No matter what the tests say.”
Her words cracked him open, split him in two like a dividing continent. The offer meant more than she knew. Rachel had robbed him of the opportunity to decide with her the best thing for all of them. She hadn’t waited for him to offer any alternatives. She’d taken the option from him like he hadn’t had a vested interest in their baby.
Kimber may not know how deeply her offer affected him, but he meant to show her. Straightening, he speared his hands into her hair and kissed her. A deep, intimate kiss, thanking her, drinking her in, and letting her know he’d be here for her as well.
She ended the kiss with a wiggle. “Gotta go.” Reluctantly, he released her and stepped aside, allowing her to shut him out of the bathroom.
At the edge of the bed, he sat, elbows on his thighs, thumbs pressing against his closed eyelids. Dear heavenly Father, came the automatic thought. It was the way his mother had always started her prayers. Only he didn’t know what to say next. He didn’t know whether to pray for positive or negative results on those tests. And he didn’t know if Kimber was behind the bathroom door hoping for the opposite of whatever he prayed for.
Mind a confused canvas of colors and shapes, Landon blew out a breath, lifted his chin to take in the ceiling above him, and, on a sigh, uttered a simple, “Help me do the right thing.”
* * *
Kimber lined up the three tests she’d managed to saturate. She’d recapped the lids and washed her hands, leaving them to rest. She checked her teeth, straightened her clothes, and fluffed her hair.
The stalling wasn’t necessary. Every package said to allow two to five minutes for results, but her results had appeared instantly. She ran a finger along the bottoms of the sticks. Two lines, two lines, and this one actually read Pregnant, in case she’d misinterpreted the whole double-line thing.
Now all she had to do was open the door and tell the father of her unborn baby the good news. Or the horrific news. The happy-slash-terrifying news. How would he take it? When she’d left him in the doorway, he’d been the color of pea soup. She had no idea if she should open the door and just announce her findings, or bring him in here and show him the evidence. How would he need to process? How did she need to process?
Right now her mind was an utter blank. Other than getting through the next sixty seconds, when she was forced to face Landon. Her fling. Her fun-night stand. She shook her head. She was such an idiot. There was a lesson to be learned here. Sex was anything but string-less. They’d knowingly played with fire… several, several times. What had they expected? But. She wouldn’t turn this relationship with Landon into something it wasn’t just because there was a Baby on Board.
She’d made the mistake of lashing Mick to Hobo Chic; had tied the ropes into double knots. And now they were stuck with a business one of them wanted and one of them didn’t. They were trapped. Much like her mother had felt in the marriage to Kimber’s father. She had given up everything when she’d learned she’d had Kimber in her belly. She’d shelved her dreams for duty. Then her parents had gone from happy people separately to miserable people together.
Kimber wouldn’t repeat her mother’s mistake. She wouldn’t allow a baby to mandate her and Landon’s combined future. Her focus was on becoming the best mother she could. Kimber knew she’d be an amazing, caring mother. And she’d share custody—assuming he wanted it—with the incredibly capable man outside of this door. But she refused to force herself into a familial unit destined to fail. She wouldn’t lead Landon down the aisle only to watch his resentment for her deepen over the years.
What they’d had together was beautiful. What they’d made even more so. No sense in ruining it. She thought of the I love you she’d thrown out a few weeks ago with a wave of sorrow.
She couldn’t allow herself to love Landon. Love was messy. A tangle of emotions he obviously didn’t return. And she wasn’t going to allow her soft heart to feel that way. For her baby’s sake. For her sake. She was going to have to be stronger, grow up… all at once, it would seem.
Kimber tried to smile at the bathroom mirror as she smoothed her shirt over her flat stomach. She managed… until she thought about all the things that could go wrong. So many things could happen. To the baby. To her. To Landon. The best course of action was to take things as they came—a day at a time. She could plan for this day. For this moment. And she could decide not to get overly emotional and sentimental about what Landon and she had shared in the past.
She found him sitting on the bed, elbows on his legs, chin in his palms. He’d lost the jacket, loosened the tie, and cuffed his sleeves. If this little bud growing in her tummy made it, the kid would be absolutely gorgeous. Her tummy fluttered as she pictured a boy with color-changing hazel eyes and a sandy mess of hair, then later as a lean, lanky teenager with freckles like hers. Tears sprang to her eyes.
Swiping her eyes, she blinked them back. Landon stood and scraped both hands through his hair and paced over to her as she fought to compose herself, to deliver the news in the best way possible. He reached for her hands, his expression grave.
She waited until his eyes had locked on to hers, then she told him. “I’m pregnant.”
Of all the reactions she’d anticipated, not a single one was a silent nod. He licked his bottom lip and swallowed. The slightest tremor shook his hands in hers. “Will you keep it?” he mumbled, his voice barely audible.
She didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” Was there ever a doubt she would? There wasn’t in her mind. Had there been in his?
His composure cracked, and he pulled her into arms that had no softness to them at all. Caged against him, she smoothed her hands along his taut back muscles. She rested her face against his chest as they held each other. “Are you okay?”
“Am now,” he said into her hair. He hadn’t let go. She didn’t think she wanted him to.
“I wasn’t sure what you were hoping to hear.”
“Neither was I.” His voice shook the slightest bit.
That was when realization struck. Like a flash of lightning revealing what once was dark.
His girlfriend in college who’d had the abortion… All the hurt and regret in his eyes made perfect sense. “You didn’t know,” she said, holding him tighter. He rubbed a palm up and down her back without answering. But he didn’t need to answer. She knew the truth. She felt the truth in every thud of his heart.
Landon hadn’t been a part of the decision to terminate the pregnancy. He hadn’t learned until it was too late.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Landon released Kimber from his clutches and lowered his head. He had to kiss her. Had to connect with her in the same way that had gotten them into this mess. Only it wasn’t a mess. He felt almost… free.
When she turned her soft green eyes up at him, he put his lips on hers before she could speak. He didn’t want to talk. Especially about the pieces of his past she’d mentally slid together. The kiss started tentative but turned rough when she tangled her arms around his neck and went at him with all she had. He caught her copper hair in one palm and held her, just held her to him with one hand on her head, the other against her lower back. When he moved to palm her breast, she grunted. He eased off.
“They’re really sore.”
“Sorry. If you don’t want to—”
Her mouth was on his before he could make the offer he really, really didn’t want to make. Every cell in his body, every last part of him from brain to groin, wanted to lay her out beneath him and make slow, sweet love to her until she cried.
She was pregnant. With his child. They’d formed an unbreakable, unfathomable bond. Had created a life together. One she wasn’t going to take away from him. He was so grateful he could hardly catch his breath.
He lifted the billowing shirt over her head and gingerly freed her breasts from the bra. He touched her ever so softly, slipping his fingertips over her nipples and cradling her breasts in his palms while he sipped her lips with butterfly-winged kisses.
The Millionaire Affair (Love in the Balance) Page 18
