"So it would seem. For two smart people, we were the last to know."
"She should be home any minute. Do you need to do anything to get ready? I can watch Hunter if you do."
He danced a stuffed toy in front of his son's eyes, enjoying the miniature smile that erupted on the baby's face.
"I should get changed but … "
"But this little guy is a charmer," she said, smiling down at her charge with a fondness that eased some of the tension in Walker's chest.
"That he is. Must get it from his mother."
Whoever she is.
Not for the first time, he cursed his wandering eye. If he'd been more careful, made better choices, none of them would be in this mess.
Then again, he wouldn't have Hunter. He would never have asked Clara to move in, and then they'd never have stolen that first illicit kiss.
Would he trade all that in for the simpler life he would have had if he'd just stayed in a year ago instead of blazing through a few months of foolish pleasure?
I don't regret him. Even if he wished Hunter had been conceived the right way. In a loving relationship with two parents who wanted him.
With a mother with curly brown hair and chocolate eyes.
That sounds a lot more serious than you told Clara you were ready for.
Kissing the baby's forehead, he handed him back to Emily. "I should get changed," he said. "Can you take him for a few minutes?"
"No problem," she replied, accepting the armful.
The baby followed Walker with his eyes as he left the room, a trait he'd taken to doing this week. Each time the tiny head turned to search the room for his father, Walker's heart squeezed. If his mother had never sent him here, he'd have never known this feeling could exist.
Maybe someday I'll thank her.
If their paths ever crossed again. He'd considered the women who could potentially be Hunter's mother and none of them were anywhere close. A couple were abroad, and the one had moved down south to open a bakery. None showed any signs of coming back into his life any time soon. He knew he'd eventually have to reach out to them all to figure out who he shared a child with, but he wanted the DNA results first. Besides, clearly Hunter's mother was not interested in being found.
That's fine with me. Let her stay away for a while so Clara and I can sort everything out.
There was only so much drama one month could hold, after all.
Reaching his room, he changed quickly into his jeans. Tonight, didn't require Walker Beckett, billionaire CEO. He needed … normal. An outfit that would remind Clara of the days before his software had exploded. Back when they'd been at the start of their relationship and he'd made a choice that had kept them apart for the better part of a decade.
He'd like to rewrite that decision.
Glancing in the mirror, he brushed back the dark hair that perpetually fell over his forehead. He'd thought of cutting it all short many times but could never do it. Not when brushing that hair out of his eyes was one of the only ways Clara would touch him.
Everything's different now.
He couldn't wait to explore the possibilities.
A knock sounded at the door, and he turned to see Emily in the doorway. "She just walked in," she whispered conspiratorially.
Showtime.
Lightness filled him as he jogged down the stairs to see Clara shrugging out of her coat in the entrance way.
"Hey," she greeted him with an open smile. "How's Hunter?"
His grin widened, loving how his son was her top priority.
"He's with Emily," he replied, moving closer to her. "She's going to stay late today to do a little babysitting again."
"Oh?" She arched a brow. "Two nights in a row? Aren't you embracing your inner Romeo. Where are we going?"
"On a date," he replied.
She blinked. "A date? We could just order in and have one here. You still have that bottle of champagne to open."
"No," he replied, wrapping an arm around her waist. "I want to take you out. Somewhere outside of this condo where there aren't baby toys on every surface. Somewhere we can just be us."
"We don't really know what ‘us' looks like yet," she pointed out, sliding her hands around his shoulders.
"Time we figured it out, don't you think?"
Her gaze dipped to his lips before a radiant smile crossed her face. "Absolutely."
He ached to kiss her but if he did, they'd never leave the house. Holding himself in check, he pressed his lips to the skin beneath her ear before stepping back.
"Go change if you need to," he said. "I'll call a car while you do."
"What should I change into?" she asked, examining his own clothes.
"Casual," he replied. "Low key."
Two brows arched this time, and he wondered if he'd miscalculated. Maybe he should have pulled out all the billionaire stops. Wined and dined her at Michelin-starred restaurants with limitless champagne and expensive entrees.
But then her smile returned. "Sounds amazing. Give me five minutes," she said before running up the stairs. He heard her duck into the new nursery first before heading for her own room. Within minutes, she was racing down the steps, clad in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt.
Reaching for her hand, he led her from the home as Emily and Hunter stood on the stairs, waving goodbye.
"Come on," he said to her as they called the elevator. "Let's have an adventure."
Using his arm for stability, she rose and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Lead on," she replied without hesitation. "I'll follow you anywhere."
His heart leapt in his chest at the words. They shouldn't affect him so much. He should be trying to keep some distance between them but, as always, Clara blasted through all his best-laid plans.
It's too early to think about more than a day or two in the future, he warned himself. You have too many responsibilities to fall into a serious relationship right now.
But Clara wasn't someone he could be casual with. Not now that he finally had her. After all these years.
…
Clara looked out the dark car window as they whizzed through the city streets.
"Not even a clue, huh?" she asked as she relaxed back against her companion.
"We'll be there soon," he replied, playing idly with her fingers.
Content, she settled back against him, enjoying the simple pleasure of being able to touch him the way she'd always wanted to.
"Look." She pointed. "We're by the university."
His driver circled the main road of the campus as Clara left his arms to press against the window.
"Remember what it felt like to run across the quad, late for a lecture?" she asked.
"Oh, yes. I had one professor tell me if I couldn't be on time to not bother showing up."
"Did you ever make it?"
"No. I was planning on dropping his class. But after that I audited it for the rest of the semester just on principle. I don't think I made it on time once."
"Now you're one of the school's most successful graduates. Or near graduate."
"Hey, hey, they gave me an honorary degree."
"Well, you were always far smarter than anyone teaching at the front of a class."
He shrugged. "There were a few I enjoyed. This place was my playground, sampling the courses and ideas that interested me. Teaching me how to talk to others who looked at the world in the same way I do."
She twined her fingers through his. "You've come so far. I'm proud of you, you know."
"I know," he said, brushing his lips to the back of her hand. "You've always cheered me on."
"What are friends for?"
He smiled as he leaned closer. "More than friends now."
Her eyes fluttered shut as he kissed her. Had she ever felt this contented in her life? It's like a piece of her that was always missing had clicked into place and she never wanted to let it go.
"Mr. Beckett, we've arrived," the driver said, interrupting them as the car slowed to a stop.
Clara glanced out the window and laughed. "Sammy's?" she asked. "I think they'll kick out anyone older than twenty-one here."
"I called ahead," he said as they got out of the car. "We're more than welcome."
She stood before their go-to bar from their college days and shook her head. She'd thought she'd never have another lukewarm pint of cheap beer or plate of cheesy fries again, yet here she was.
"I've lost track of the number of times we hung out here," she said, staring at the faded red sign that had become synonymous with underage drinking when they'd been in school.
"Too many to count," he agreed, coming up behind her. "You in for one more night?"
He could have taken her anywhere. A restaurant on one of the city's most sought-after rooftops or a private gallery tour only available to the very, very rich. Instead, he'd brought her to a dive bar where they wouldn't likely rack up a bill higher than fifty dollars.
"You couldn't have picked a more perfect spot," she finally whispered, her chest tight.