Along Came Love

by Tracey Livesay

  Always.

  But she didn’t doubt he’d go through with his threat. He was an ends-­justify-­the-­means type. He’d lied to his best friend about the new woman in his life to force Adam to accept help with the HPC presentation. And he’d forbidden Chelsea from telling Adam who she was, making her job more difficult. That lie had almost ended them before they’d begun. Adam and Chelsea had managed to work it out, but Indi knew if a successful outcome required that same deceit, Mike would do it again.

  She laid her hands on the folded jacket in her lap. “Your place it is.”

  MIKE PULLED INTO his underground parking spot and turned off the engine. Nighttime street work had stretched ten minutes into twenty-­five. He leaned back and rolled his head to look at his passenger. Her brief foray into crime must have been exhausting. She’d fallen asleep.

  He clenched his hands so tightly on the steering wheel his knuckles paled. He was so close. Ten years ago when he’d graduated from Stanford with his MBA, he’d laid out a plan to achieve his goals. With the HPC and Computronix, he’d managed to reach his professional target. And tonight, the personal one had been within his grasp.

  Then she’d broken back into his life.

  Pun intended.

  If only he could travel back in time to the night of the wedding and stay in instead of venturing out . . .

  He’d been watching her all evening.

  A beautiful fairy in coral chiffon and flower-­crowned waves. She talked to everyone, charming and animated, leaving smiles in her wake. He’d tried to ignore her, but no matter his position, he was acutely aware of her location in the room.

  One time he looked up from a conversation with Adam and Jonathan and scanned the crowd only to find her missing. Craning his neck, he caught sight of her as she slipped down the stairs. Minutes later, he found her sitting alone on the stone bench in the front yard, her hands braced on either side of her, head tilted skyward.

  “I thought Adam would be the first person to need a quiet moment.”

  She smiled at him over her shoulder. “A moment is all I can stand. We’ve lost the warm weather from earlier and I’m about to freeze.”

  He’d taken off his jacket long ago, but. . .

  He held up two shots of Casa Noble tequila. “Maybe these will help.”

  A look of distaste marred her delicate features.

  His smiled flattened. “Maybe not.”

  “No, I’m sorry. Bad memories from college. But I’m adventurous. How about we make some new ones?”

  Adrenaline billowed through him. He sat next to her and handed her a glass. “Salut.”

  “Salut.” Her voice was soft. Husky.

  The alcohol burned going down before blossoming into a blanket of heat that settled on his chest.

  Indi puckered her lips and blew a stream of air. It was sexy as hell.

  “How was that?” he asked, bewilderingly enthralled by this woman.

  She tossed her head back. “As good as I remember. Which can only be bad.”

  She was so different from the women he usually dated. So different from Skylar.

  Which is what he wanted.

  “It was a beautiful ceremony. I can’t believe Adam wrote his vows.”

  “I know.” She rolled the shot glass between her palms. “Are you worried?”

  “About what?”

  “Your relationship with Adam. Are you worried it’ll change?”

  He shrugged. “It can’t help but change. But I don’t see that as a negative. Do you?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. For years it’s just been Chelsea and me and now I’ll have to share her.” She let her chin fall to her chest. “That probably sounds selfish.”

  “It does—­”

  Her head swung in his direction, but when she saw the smile on his lips, she slapped his arm. “You jerk!”

  “But it’s understandable,” he continued. “Don’t worry. I know how much she loves you. You two will be okay.”

  “Thanks.”

  The smile she gave him lit up their small part of the mountain. Made him want to do whatever was necessary to see it brighten her face again.

  They sat together, listening to the conversation and laughter that flowed through the open windows. When the beginning notes of a song joined the cacophony, Indi clapped her hands. “Chelsea requested that, I’m sure of it. An oldie but goodie.”

  She sang the words and swayed to the beat. “ ‘ . . . You make me feel so brand-­new, I want to spend my whole life with you . . .’ ”

  Her eyes were closed and a rapt expression settled on her face. He yearned to share the moment with her. He stood and held out his hand. “Would you care to dance?”

  She tilted her head and rich dark waves flowed over her shoulder, the ends brushing the top of her cleavage. She stared up at him, her wide, light brown eyes guarded but curious. His heart pounded the rhythm of his longing. He’d been waiting for this all evening, the opportunity to touch her, to hold her, to try and understand this need to be close to her.

  Without breaking visual contact, she placed her hand in his. His palm tingled like he’d accidentally brushed it against a live wire, and he was struck by the simple beauty of their contrasting skin tones. He closed his fingers around hers and pulled her from the chair and into his arms.

  The scent of warm sweet vanilla swirled around him, making his head dizzy . . . and his cock hard. She smelled so good he wanted to nibble that tantalizing spot where her shoulder met her neck. He settled for flexing his hand against the small of her back and drawing her closer. She inhaled audibly and stiffened and he held his breath, praying she wouldn’t reject his touch. Surely, this attraction wasn’t one-­sided? It was too potent. But she exhaled and her body softened against him.

  They moved like that, her temple against his cheek as the song melded into the next one. She leaned back and stared at him with eyes that burned bright with the reflection of the stars. And when her lips parted, he could no more resist than he could deny his name. He lowered his head and captured her mouth with his own. . .

  Mike scraped his fingers through his hair. Why couldn’t she have stayed away? From the moment he’d met her he’d been consumed by this powerful and unexplained attraction. And until Adam’s wedding, he’d been intent on fighting it.

  Until he couldn’t.

  When he’d awakened that morning to find her gone, he’d been blinded by a rage he’d never known. A rage so overwhelming it threatened to destroy everything in its path. He hadn’t cared about work, his friends, or his obligations. Only her. He’d been surprised and unnerved by the strength of his reaction. It had taken several days for reason to take hold of him again. And he’d fortified that reason with resolve. Her leaving was the best outcome of their fling. Indi was quirky, impulsive, easygoing. Not to mention so sexy it was distracting. Those weren’t the traits he needed in the other half of his power ­couple.

  But that didn’t make him want her any less.

  She was turned to face him, one hand resting beneath her cheek, the other lying on her stomach. Even the harsh fluorescent lighting couldn’t detract from her beauty, the smooth richness of her skin calling out to be touched.

  He shook her shoulder. “Indi, we’re here.”

  She jerked awake, her lashes fluttering, a flush settling on her high cheekbones. She straightened and smoothed a hand down her sweater. “Sorry. I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

  A sudden protective instinct surged through him—­one he quickly quashed.

  No, it wasn’t happening. He wasn’t getting involved with her. Not again. She was his best friend’s wife’s foster sister. Practically family. He’d help her through this mess she’d gotten herself into until Adam and Chelsea got home.

  Then he’d be the one to walk away.

  Several minutes later, he flip
ped the lights on in his condo and tossed his jacket on the marble countertop. Before him, the floor-­to-­ceiling windows allowed in the glittering vista of the city at night.

  “That view is breathtaking.” Indi came to stand be­side him.

  Now, under the recessed lights in his house and not the lighting of the garage or the city’s street lamps, without the filter of his unchecked emotions, he could see her exhaustion. The slight bruises beneath her eyes, the droop of her shoulders, the dimming of her inner light.

  “This has been a long day for you. Your room is down here.” He gestured for her to precede him down the hallway. “It’s the second door on the left. The first door is the bathroom.”

  She fingered the strap of her backpack. “I know I didn’t say it before, but thank you. You really came through for me. I . . . I had no one else to call.”

  She placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned up to kiss his cheek. When she pulled back, their eyes met . . . and locked. A teaser trailer of their weekend together premiered in his mind. Tequila body shots and dancing until dawn, a movie double feature of Four Weddings and a Funeral followed by Boomerang, sex on the picnic table under the stars.

  What was wrong with him? He was on the verge of closing the biggest deal of his career and starting his life with the right woman on his arm. He’d lost a weekend to the headiness of Indi’s charms. He couldn’t lose his life.

  He broke eye contact and put some space between them. “You’re welcome. Get some rest. We have an appointment with the attorney this afternoon.”

  She nodded, turned into her room, but hesitated. “Can I have some water?”

  “Of course.”

  He handed her a bottle from the refrigerator. She took it and went into the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

  He exhaled deeply.

  If only Chelsea had been home. Unfortunately, Adam had been in the midst of working on OTTo when he and Chelsea had married on New Year’s Eve, so they’d agreed to put off their honeymoon for several months. Their venue choices ended up being as unique as the ­couple. Chelsea was interested in a spa resort. Being a gamer and a technology geek, Adam wanted to go to the American Classic Arcade Museum in New Hampshire. In the end they’d compromised and spent a week in London, with several trips to the London Science Museum before heading to Fiji for two weeks to stay at a technology-­free resort with no internet access.

  Mike tugged his shirt out of his pants and walked into his room. Despite what he’d threatened, it was a mistake to keep her close. He’d accompany her to the attorney’s office, get clear on his responsibilities regarding her bail, then pay for a hotel for her until Adam and Chelsea could get home to clear this up. That’s what Adam would want him to do. He’d also email his friend, so when he finally left the resort and regained internet access, he’d be apprised of the situation at home.

  He’d taken off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants when he heard a commotion in the hallway.

  What the hell?

  The door to the guest bedroom swung on its hinges and the bathroom door rebounded against the tub, evidence of the force with which it had been shoved open. The grating sound of retching blared out into the hallway.

  Indi.

  The acrid tang of fear coated his tongue and his protective instincts ballooned to life, ramming through his earlier erected barriers. He hurried into the bathroom and found her bent over the toilet on all fours in her bra and panties.

  “No, don’t come in.” Her protest was feeble and she could barely lift her hand to fend him off.

  He knelt beside her and rubbed her back, his heart breaking at the never-­ending spasms that bowed her body.

  Goddammit! He managed the day-­to-­day operations of a billion-­dollar tech company, consorted with some of the most powerful ­people in the country: businessmen, celebrities, and politicians. He had more money than he could ever spend in a lifetime.

  And yet he’d never felt so useless.

  Finally, the convulsions subsided and she quieted. He grabbed a washcloth, wet it, and gently cleaned her mouth. Beads of sweat dotted her brow, clung to her clammy skin and she didn’t object when he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. Laying her gently on the bed, he covered her with a light blanket.

  “What happened?” he asked, smoothing her braids away from her face.

  “I didn’t have anything to sleep in, so I was going to ask you for a T-­shirt.” Her voice was drowsy.

  During their weekend together, when she hadn’t been naked, she’d been in one of his shirts.

  “I opened my bag, and got a big whiff of the clam sauce . . .”

  Her lashes never stirred, resting beneath closed eyes.

  “Do you have a bug or something?” Maybe he should take her to the hospital . . .

  “No, it’s Nugget. He doesn’t like garlic,” she said, in a whispered slur.

  Had she said nugget?

  “What’s a nugget?” Could she have the flu? Did dehydration cause hallucinations?

  “Not what. Who.” She exhaled and succumbed to sleep’s siren song. “Nugget’s our baby. I’m pregnant.”

  Chapter Five

  HE WAS GOING to be a father.

  Mike stood in the living room and stared out the window. The midmorning sun burned through the fog of the evening before, its rays cascading onto his polished hardwood floors. He’d barely slept last night, his mind unable to quiet after Indi’s announcement.

  Pride expanded in his chest, filling every inch of the cavity until he could barely breathe. A baby. A son or a daughter. An image of Indi holding their newborn tantalized him, offering a glimpse of a future he’d always assumed he’d have, but now he couldn’t help wanting. Still, he couldn’t allow himself to get excited about the news. He had no proof Indi was pregnant or, if she was, that the baby was his.

  His own father’s exasperated tones. Be smart, Mike.

  He took a sip of coffee, hoping the steaming hot beverage would eliminate the stupor impairing his ability to function rationally. Why had she come to San Francisco? Was she looking to get money from him? What did he really know about her apart from the way she made him feel? And wasn’t that enough for him to distrust her?

  He hadn’t been able to get much information from her last night. Attempts to rouse her after she’d fallen asleep had failed. But staring down at her, knowing she might be pregnant, had filled him with the primitive desire to protect her and the life growing inside of her. One thing was certain, if the baby turned out to be his, he’d make sure his child was taken care of. How he’d go about doing that, he had no idea.

  His cell phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket.

  “Skylar.” His presentation and plans for dinner with the other woman seemed like a lifetime ago.

  “Is everything okay?” Concern threaded Skylar’s brisk tone.

  His gaze slid to the hallway. Indi’s door was still closed. “Why would you ask that?”

  “You abruptly canceled our plans last night without a reason.”

  His jaw tightened. He didn’t appreciate having to explain himself to anyone.

  “When I called with my regrets, I explained I had some old business that came up.”

  “I know. It’s just”—­she paused—­“you’re usually so even-­keeled and composed, but last night you were harsh. Ill-­tempered. You’ve never been that way with me before.”

  He sighed. “I apologize. I didn’t want to break our date, but it couldn’t be helped.”

  “I understand. Mostly, I was disappointed because it was our last opportunity to see one another before I leave for New York.”

  He set his mug down on the coffee table and pinched the bridge of his nose. Last night he’d intended to propose to Skylar. Instead he’d learned he might have fathered a child with another woman.

  His
father would be suitably scandalized.

  “I promise it won’t happen again,” he said, injecting a silky warmth into his tone in an attempt to mollify her.

  It worked.

  “You can make it up to me when I return in two weeks.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” he said, disconnecting the call.

  “Good morning.”

  Indi stood in the doorway, looking fresh and natural in the plain white T-­shirt he’d left on her bed, her bare toes peeking beneath the hem of the skirt she’d worn the night before.

  His chest tightened and contrition thickened the back of his throat.

  He battled through it.

  There was no reason to feel guilty about talking to Skylar. She was the woman he was dating, the woman he’d planned to marry. He and Indi didn’t have a relationship.

  Yeah, you only have a child together.

  Maybe.

  “Thank you for the toothbrush and shirt.” She pulled on the hem.

  He set his phone on the coffee table. “How are you feeling?”

  She grimaced. “Like an alien invaded my body and proceeded to veto anything I wanted to eat.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “Do you have peppermint tea?”

  The corner of his mouth ascended. “Do I look like a man who’d stock peppermint tea?”

  “You asked.” She twined her fingers until they resembled sweet licorice ropes. “I’ll take some water for now.”

  He took his mug into the kitchen, placed it in the sink, and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He unscrewed the top and handed it to her.

  “Thank you.”

  The tension in the room hovered like a low-­lying cloud, easy to maneuver around, but difficult to ignore.

  “You got back together with your girlfriend.”

  A statement not a question. He arched a brow.

  “You mentioned her before,” she elaborated. “That first night, during the tequila shots.”