Have Baby, Need Billionaire(8)

So Simon did. While late-afternoon sunshine slipped through the clouds   and a cold sea wind whistled past, Simon talked. He told Mick about the   visit from Tula. About Nathan. About all of it.

"You have a son?"

"Yeah," Simon said with a fast grin. "Probably. I'm getting a paternity test done."

"I'm sure you are," Mick said.

He frowned a little. "It makes sense, but yeah, looking at him, it's   hard to ignore. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it myself. Hell,   I don't even know what to do first."

"Bring him home?"

"Well, yeah," he said. "That's the plan. I've got crews over at the house right now, fixing up a room for him."

"And this Tula? What's she like?"

Simon pulled at his ice-cold water again, relishing the liquid as it   slid down his throat to ease the sudden tightness there. How to explain   Tula, he thought. Hell, where would he begin? "She's … different."

Mick laughed. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Good question," Simon muttered. His fingers played with the   shrink-wrapped label on the water bottle. "She's fiercely protective of   Nathan. And she's as irritating as she is gorgeous-"

"Interesting."

Simon shot him a look. "Don't even go there. I'm not interested."                       
       
           



       

"You just said she's gorgeous."

"Doesn't mean a thing," he insisted, shooting a look at the boys as they   lined up to take turns at the cages. "She's not my type."

"Good. Your type is boring."

"What?"

Mick leaned both forearms on the picnic table. "Simon, you date the same woman, over and over."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"No matter how their faces change, the inner woman never does. They're all cool, quiet, refined."

Now Simon laughed. "And there's something wrong with that?"

"A little variety wouldn't kill you."

Variety. He didn't need variety. His life was fine just the way it was.   If a quick image of Tula Barrons's big blue eyes and flashing dimple   rose up in his mind, it was nobody's business but his own.

He'd seen close-up and personal just what happened when a man spent his   time looking for variety instead of sensible. Simon's father had made   everyone in the house miserable with his continuing quest for amusement.   Simon wasn't interested in repeating any failing patterns.

"All I'm saying is-"

"Don't want to hear it," Simon told him before his friend could get   going. "Besides, what the hell do you know about women? You're married."

Mick snorted. "Last time I looked, my beautiful wife is a woman."

"Katie's different."

"Different from the snooty ice queens you usually date, you mean."

"How did we get onto the subject of my love life?"

"Beats the hell outta me," Mick said with a laugh. "I just wanted to   know what was bugging you and now I do. There's a new woman in your life   and you're a father."

"Probably," Simon amended.

Mick reached out and slapped Simon's shoulder. "Congratulations, man."

Simon smiled, took another sip of water and let his new reality settle in. He was, most likely, a father. He had a son.

As for Tula Barrons being in his life, that was temporary. Strangely   enough, that thought didn't have quite the appeal it should have.



"I don't know what to do about him," Tula said, taking a sip of her   latte. "What can you do?" Anna Hale asked from her position on the floor   of the bank.

Tula looked down at the baby in his stroller and smiled as Nathan   slapped his toy bunny against the tray. "Hey, do you think it's okay for   the baby to be in here while you're painting? I mean, the fumes … "

"It's fine. This is just detail work," Anna said, soothing her, then she smiled. "Look at you. You're so mom-like."

"I know." Tula grinned at her. "And I really like it. Didn't think I   would, you know? I mean, I always thought I'd like to have kids some   day, but I never really had any idea of what it would really be like.   It's exhausting. And wonderful. And … " She stopped and frowned   thoughtfully. "I have to move to the city."

"It's not forever," Anna told her, pausing in laying down a soft layer   of pale yellow that blended with the bottom coat of light blue to make a   sun-washed sky.

"Yeah, I know," Tula said on a sigh. She walked to Anna, sat down on the   floor and sat cross-legged. "But you know how I hate the idea of going   back to San Francisco."

"I do," Anna said, wiping a stray lock of hair off her cheek, leaving a   trace of yellow paint in her wake. "But you won't necessarily see your   father. It's a big city."

Tula gave her a halfhearted grin. "Not big enough. Jacob Hawthorne throws a huge shadow."

"But you're not in that shadow anymore, remember?" Anna reached out,   grabbed her hand, then winced at the yellow paint she transferred to   Tula's skin. "Oops, sorry. Tula, you walked away from him. From that   life. You don't owe him anything and he doesn't have the power to make   you miserable anymore. You're a famous author now!"

Tula laughed, delighted at the image. She was famous in the preschool   crowd. Or at least, her Lonely Bunny was a star. She was simply the   writer who told his stories and drew his pictures. But, oh, how she   loved going to children's bookstores to do signings. To read her books   to kids clustered around her with wide eyes and innocent smiles.

Anna was right. Tula had escaped her father's narrow world and his plans   for her life. She'd made her own way. She had a home she loved and a   career she adored. Glancing at the baby boy happily gabbling to himself   in his stroller, she told herself silently that she was madly in love   with a drooling, nearly bald, one-foot-tall dreamboat.                       
       
           



       

What she would do when she had to say goodbye to that baby she just   didn't know. But for the moment, that time was weeks, maybe months,   away.

If ever she'd seen a man who wasn't prepared to be a father, it was Simon Bradley.

Instantly, an image of him popped into her brain and she almost sighed.   He really was far too handsome for her peace of mind. But gorgeous or   not, he was as stuffy and stern as her own father and she'd had enough   of that kind of man. Besides, this wasn't about sexual attraction or the   buzzing awareness, this was about Nathan and what was best for him.

So Tula would put aside her own worries and whatever tingly feelings she   had for the baby's father and focus instead on taking care of the tiny   boy.

She could do this. And just to make herself feel better, she mentally   put her adventure into the tone of one of her books. Lonely Bunny Goes   to the City. She smiled to herself at the thought and realized it wasn't   a bad idea for her next book.

"You're absolutely right," Tula said firmly, needing to hear the   confident tone in her own voice. "My father can't dictate to me anymore.   And besides, it's not as if he's interested in what I'm doing or where  I  am."

The truth stung a bit, as it always did. Because no matter what, she   wished her father were different. But wishing would never make it so.

"I'm not going to worry about running into my father," she said. "I mean, what are the actual odds of that happening anyway?"

"Good for you!" Anna said with an approving grin. Then she added, "Now,   would you mind handing me the brush shaped like a fan? I need to get  the  lacy look on the waves."

"Right." Tula stood, looked through Anna's supplies and found the wide,   white sable fan-shaped brush. She handed it over, then watched as her   best friend expertly laid down white paint atop the cerulean blue ocean,   creating froth on water that looked real enough Tula half expected to   hear the sound of the waves.

Anna Cameron Hale was the best faux finish artist in the business. She   could lay down a mural on a wall and when she was finished, it was   practically alive. Just as, when this painting on the bank wall was   complete, it would look like a view of the ocean on a sunny day, as seen   through a columned window.

"You're completely amazing, you know that, right?" Tula said.

"Thanks." Anna didn't look back, just continued her painting. "You know,   once you're settled into Simon's place, I could come up and do a mural   in the baby's room."