Pregnant by the Maverick Millionaire(2)

"I'm so sorry. I thought I could." Brodie lifted her hands in an I-don't-know-what-happened gesture.

"Was it me? Did I do something you didn't like?"

Aw...

Brodie blushed. "No, you're fabulous. God, you must know you kiss really  well and I'm sure..." Her blush deepened. "I'm sure you do everything  well."

Kade pushed himself into a sitting position on the couch and placed his  ankle on his knee. He leaned back and the muscles in his big arms flexed  as he linked his hands behind his head, his expensive running shirt  pulling tight across his broad chest. She could see the ridges of his  stomach and knew the fabric covered a perfect six-pack of sexy-as-sin  muscles.                       
       
           



       

Stop thinking about his body, his stomach, about those hard thighs...

"Maybe you'd feel more at ease if I tell you you're in control here. You  say no-to anything, at any point-and I'll back off," Kade quietly  stated.

This was a prime example of why she was attracted to him. Beyond the  charm, beneath the sexy face and the scorching body, was the man she  suspected the public never saw; someone who was thoughtful enough to put  her at ease. Someone who could quiet her fears, who could make her  consider casting off a protective layer or two.

Thoughtful Kade reminded her of Jay, which reminded her of the person  she'd been before her life had been turned inside out. The open, happy,  sunny girl who'd loved life with a vengeance. A young woman who had the  world at her feet.

That was what scared her most about being with him. He made her remember who she'd been before she wasn't that person anymore.

Sex she could handle, but she was terrified of feeling good, contented. She couldn't deal with happiness.

Not when she knew how quickly it could be ripped away.

Brodie bit her lip and lifted her hands in the air. She saw a hint of frustration pass across Kade's face.

"Okay, then I really don't understand. You seemed to be as into me as I am into you."

Brodie scratched the back of her neck. "Yeah, I'm a mess. It's difficult  to explain but trust me when I tell you it's all me and not you."

Kade nodded. "Oh, I know it's all you 'cause if I had anything to do with it then you'd be naked and panting right now."

Well, there wasn't a hell of a lot to say to that. She should just go.  "This was a very bad decision on my part." Brodie moved away from the  window and clasped her hands behind her back. "I'm really sorry to blow  hot and cold."

Kade stood up and raked his fingers through his hair. "No worries. It's not the end of the world."

She was sure it wasn't, not for him. He'd had a variety of woman hanging  off his arm since he was eighteen years old and new to the Mavericks.  In sixteen years, that was a lot of women and a lot of hanging. With one  call, one text message, he could have Brodie's replacement here in ten  minutes.

So, there was an upside to this stupid scenario; she would never be one of "Webb's Women."

As she walked toward the door, Kade's phone buzzed and he picked it up  off the coffee table. He swiped the screen with his thumb and frowned as  he read the text message.

"Quinn and Mac are on their way up," he said.

Quinn Rayne and Mac McCaskill, Kade's best friends, his ex-teammates and  current business partners. Yeah, she wasn't proud to admit that, like  every other obsessed Mavericks fan, she read about their exploits in the  papers and online. The women, although Kade wasn't quite as much a  player as Quinn and Mac, the crazy stunts-mostly Quinn-the scandals...  Quinn again. Actually, these days, it was mostly Quinn who gave the  press grist for the mill.

Brodie glanced at her wristwatch. It was 7:36 a.m. on a Saturday morning. "So early?"

"Yeah, weird." Kade stood up and walked across the expansive loft to the  kitchen area. He opened a huge fridge and pulled out two bottles of  water. He waved one in her direction. "Want one?"

Brodie nodded and easily caught the bottle he lobbed in her direction.  "Thanks." She gestured to the door. "So, I think I should go."

Kade nodded his agreement, saw she was struggling to crack the top and  walked toward her. He took the bottle, opened the lid and handed it back  to her. "There you go."

"Thanks," Brodie said and gestured to the couch. "Sorry, you know...about that."

Kade's expression was pure speculation. "Maybe one day you'll tell me  why." They heard a clatter of footsteps outside the door. "My boys are  here."

"I'll get out of your way."

Kade moved past her and opened the door to his friends. Brodie opened  her mouth to say a quick hello, but her words died at the looks on their  faces. They pushed past her to flank Kade, looking pale. Their eyes  were rimmed with red.

"What's wrong?" Kade demanded, his voice harsh.

Brodie watched as they each put a hand on Kade's shoulders. Her stomach  plummeted to the floor at their expressions; she recognized them  instantly. They were the bearers of bad news, the harbingers of doom.  They were going to tell him his life was about to do a 180.

She'd seen the same expression on her aunt's face when Poppy had told  her that her parents, her best friend, Chelsea, and her old friend but  new boyfriend Jay were dead, along with six other people, in a  nightmarish accident. They'd been on their way to a dinner to celebrate  her twentieth birthday and apparently life had thought being the lone  survivor of a multivehicle crash was a suitable gift.                       
       
           



       

Why was I left behind?

"Tell. Me." Kade's snap brought her back to his hall, to the three men looking like the ground was shifting under their feet.

"Kade, Vernon had a heart attack this morning," Quinn said, his words stilted. "He didn't make it, bud."

She saw the flash of denial on Kade's face, the disbelief, and she  quietly slipped out the door. Grief was an intensely personal and  private emotion and the last thing he needed was a stranger in his  space, in his home. Besides, she was still dealing with her own sorrow,  still working through losing her own family, her closest friend and the  man whom she'd thought she'd marry.

Sorry, Kade, she thought. So, so sorry. A long time ago she'd had a  brave heart and a free spirit and she hoped the news of his friend's  death wouldn't change the core of who he was, like the same kind of news  had changed her.

But life had changed her and she wasn't that free-spirited girl anymore.  She walked back into her real life knowing she certainly wasn't the  type of woman who could handle sexy, bachelor millionaires tempting her  to walk on the wild side.


Six months later

Brodie typed her client's answer into her tablet, hit Enter and looked  up. Dammit, she thought, instantly recognizing the interest in his eyes.  This appointment was already running overtime and she really didn't  want to fend off his advances.

This was one downside to dealing with male clients in her matchmaking  business. Because she was reasonably attractive they thought they would  skip the sometimes tedious process of finding a mate and go straight for  her.

"What type of woman are you looking for?" she asked, deliberately  playing with the massive-but-fake emerald-and-diamond monstrosity on the  ring finger of her left hand.

"Actually, I was going to say a tiny blonde with a nice figure but I'm  open to other possibilities. Maybe someone who looks like you...who is  you. I have tickets for the opera. Do you like opera?"

Ack. She hated opera and she didn't date her clients. Ever. She didn't  date at all. Brodie sent him a tight smile and lifted her hand to show  him her ring. "I'm flattered but I'm engaged. Tom is a special ops  soldier, currently overseas."

Last week Tom had been Mike and he'd been an ace detective. The week  before he'd been Jace and a white-water adventurer. What could she say?  She liked variety in her fake fiancés.

Brodie took down the rest of his information, ignored his smooth  attempts to flirt with her despite her engagement to Tom and insisted on  paying for coffee. She watched as he left the café and climbed into a  low-slung Japanese sports car. When she was certain he was out of view,  she dropped her head to the table and gently banged her forehead.

"Another one asking for a date?" Jan, the owner of the coffee shop,  dropped into the chair across from Brodie and patted her head. Despite  Brodie trying to keep her distance from the ebullient older woman, Jan  had, somehow, become her friend. She rarely confided in anybody-talking  about stuff and discussing the past changed nothing, so what was the  point?-but Jan didn't let it bother her. Like her great-aunt Poppy, Jan  nagged Brodie to open up on a fairly regular basis.