Kade turned away from the painting, finally at peace with the fact that he would never have a relationship with James. He'd lost his father a long time ago, if he'd ever really had him. Kade could finally put these particular demons to rest.
With a considerably lighter heart Kade left the gallery. As he stepped onto the sidewalk, he felt his cell vibrate. He read the incoming message from Wren and clicked on the link she provided.
A reporter had gotten Brodie to open up-through subterfuge, but still. Worse, he'd gotten her to talk about how she was feeling, something Kade had difficulty doing. Strange that it should hurt so much. She could talk to strangers but not to him?
And then there was what she'd said to the blogger, scumbag that he was. Her words had Kade feeling like a clawed hand was ripping his heart apart. She didn't believe in love, didn't want it in her life and didn't believe Kade could provide it.
Despite everything they'd gone through, she still thought he was playing games, that he would bail. He might no longer think he was his father's son but Brodie certainly did, judging by the fact that she'd publicly stated she was expecting him to leave.
Man, that hurt. Even more painful than the hunger, the fear, the uncertainty he'd experienced as a kid. To have the woman in his life thinking so little of him...it felt as if she'd used his heart as a hockey puck.
Why? Kade stared down at his screen, unable to get his feet to move. Why did he care so damn much?
Because he loved her.
Crap, dammit, hell.
Because, like he'd always been with his father, Kade was desperate for her to love him. Because, again like his father had been, Brodie was Kade's world. And, like James, Kade wasn't hers.
How the hell had he let this happen?
Kade started to walk. He needed to move or else he would scream. He was in love with her, she didn't love him. What did he do now? He could walk away, break it off. In a couple of months he could sic his lawyers on her, demanding custody rights, and they could communicate that way. He didn't have to talk to her again if he didn't want to.
He didn't want to; he felt too raw.
Or he could go to her, give her a chance to explain. See if there was anything they could salvage out of this train wreck of a relationship. No, not a relationship; Brodie didn't believe in those... He should just let the lawyers deal with it, with her, but his feet didn't agree. They just kept walking in the direction of Brodie's office.
They might, if he was really lucky, let him walk right on past her building.
* * *
It was after eight in the evening and Brodie was exhausted. She couldn't wait to go home, maybe sink into the spa bath, preferably naked, with Kade. Pushing her chair back from her desk, she stood up and winced when the button of her black pants pushed into her stomach. She was going to have to buy some bigger clothes. Her tummy was growing at an alarming rate and, unfortunately, she suspected her bottom was following the trend.
Maybe Kade could show her some exercises she could safely do to keep her butt from spreading. Her tummy was on its own.
Brodie opened her lower drawer to pull out her bag and sighed when her computer signaled the arrival of a new email. She'd never been able to ignore a ringing phone or a new message so she clicked the mouse.
What?
It took a moment for her to make sense of the words on the screen. It was from the company she and Colin used to run background reports. It was fairly important their clients were who they said they were. That they weren't broke, had a criminal record...
Because she was swamped with clients this week, she'd done the interview with Kimball before she received the background checks, something she didn't like to do. If she had waited, she would've known Ross Kimball was not who he said he was. He wasn't living at the address he stated; there were no marine biologists working in the area, or in the country, under that name and his contact numbers were bogus.
Brodie pulled out her chair and sat down. She'd been played and played well. Who was Kimball and why had he used such an elaborate ruse to meet her?
It didn't take her long to come up with an answer.
Kade. And her relationship with him.
Since the world found out she was carrying Kade's baby-a new generation of Mavericks!-she'd been bombarded with requests for interviews and she'd refused every offer. Her standard response was a consistent and, she guessed, infuriating "no comment."
As Kade had said, the press had gone looking for a story and Ross had sneaked in via the back door. He'd played the role well, she thought. She hadn't once suspected he wasn't who he said he was.
So, who did he work for and what had he penned? And how could she find out, preferably before Wren and Kade did?
What had she told the man? They'd discussed the city and how lonely it could be, he'd flirted with her and she'd shut him down...
Shut him down by telling him she didn't believe in love...
"'Brodie Stewart is a walking contradiction, someone who earns a very healthy living matching people in that eternal quest for true love while discounting the notion for herself.'"
Brodie jerked her head up and winced when she saw Kade standing in the doorway to her office, reading from his phone. Well, guess she didn't have to go looking for the article. Kade-via the annoyingly efficient Wren, she presumed-had accessed it on his smartphone. And, judging by his furious expression, he was less than thrilled by its contents.
Brodie leaned her head against the back of her chair. "Who is he?"
"Ross Bennett. A blogger with an enormous following. Quite well-known for his ability to twist the truth," Kade replied, looking back down at the screen. Then he started to read, his tone flat and terrifyingly devoid of all emotion.
"In an interview with Ms. Stewart, she candidly admitted she didn't believe in love. 'I believe in sex. I believe in being independent, of standing on my own two feet. I believe in my career, in forging my own path, in keeping an emotional distance.'
"She doesn't seem to have much faith in Kade Webb, either. Webb, according to Ms. Stewart, won't stick around for the long haul. To Kade, having a baby is a novelty and she expects him to lose interest."
Brodie gripped the arms of her chair. Oh, this was bad. This was very bad.
"Luckily for the Mavericks, Bennett is regarded as a trash-talking, sensation-seeking journalist. He is best to be ignored. Wren thought he was sucking the story out of thin air, but I heard your voice in those words. What happened?"
"He posed as a client and he fooled me," Brodie reluctantly admitted.
Kade leaned a shoulder into the wall, his face a blank mask. His eyes were flat and emotionless and his mouth was a hard line. Kade was, she knew, incandescently angry. Maybe this was the final straw; she'd pushed him away so many times...maybe this time she'd pushed him too far. She'd tested his commitment to sticking by her and their child and he'd passed every test. But this was no longer a game, she realized; she'd pushed too hard and too far.
She didn't need him to verbalize his intentions; he was done. The moment she'd both dreaded and welcomed was here and the pain would follow. She would deal with it and then she would go back to her safe, emotion-free life.
The life she wanted, she reminded herself. The life she felt comfortable in. The lonely, color-free, safe, boring life.
"Did I ever give you reason to think I would fade away?"
"No."
"That I was playing at being a father?"
Brodie shook her head.
"I read that blog while standing outside the gallery exhibiting my father's latest work. It struck me you could've been describing my father-that's the way he was, the way he acted."
God, she hadn't thought of that. Hadn't meant him to think that. He was nothing like the man who sired him. "I'm sorry."
"Being sorry doesn't help, neither does how I feel about you." Kade shook his head. "I can't keep doing this, Brodie. I can't fight your fear anymore, you've got to do that yourself. I told you I'll be here for you but you don't want to believe it and I can't force you to."
Kade shoved a hand into his hair. "For you to think that, verbalize it, means you either believe it or you want to believe it. It doesn't matter which. Either way it tells me you are intolerant of intimacy and you deliberately cut yourself off. And this-" Kade showed her the screen "-this is you running. I'm not going to be the sap who runs after you, begging you to give me another chance. I did that with my father, I will not do it again. I've given you enough chances. I'm worth more than that and, frankly, so are you."