Pursued(22)

"Nothing," she answered immediately. "Because it's not going to happen.  Beyond all the reasons why two people who don't know each other  shouldn't be moving in together, there are also the logistics. You live  and work in San Diego. I live and work in LA. There's no way I'm driving  three hours, in traffic, to work and home every day. It isn't going to  happen."

"If that's your biggest objection, forget about it. We can totally fix it."

"How can we fix it? Even all your money isn't enough to make LA traffic move during rush hour."

"Maybe not, but there are other ways to get to work besides a car."

"Like what?"

"Like a helicopter." He drained his water glass in one long sip. "See, problem solved."

"Yes, but I don't have a helicopter."

"Maybe not, but I've got three."

"Look," she said, throwing her napkin down on the table and standing  up. "We're done talking about this. I'm going to the bathroom and when I  come back we need a new topic of conversation. Because if we don't, I'm  out of here. And I can promise that neither the baby nor I will be  pleased about looking for a bus stop in Beverly Hills."





Eleven

By the time she got back from the bathroom-where she'd had more than a  few WTF moments-Nic had paid the bill and was waiting to escort her out  to the car. He hadn't, however, come up with a new topic of  conversation. Instead, he had a new twist on the old one.                       
       
           



       

"So," he said as he slid behind the wheel of a car that cost  significantly more than she made in a year and started the engine, "I  think I've found a solution."

"I didn't know we had a problem," she answered drily.

He ignored her. "You don't want to move in with me, so why don't I move in with you?"

She burst out laughing. She knew it was rude, especially when he looked  so pleased with his suggestion, but she couldn't help it. The idea of a  multibillionaire slumming it in her tiny fourth-story walk-up in Los  Feliz was hilarious, especially considering the fact that his pantry was  bigger than her whole apartment.

The look he gave her as he backed out of the parking space was decidedly disgruntled. "I don't see what's so funny."

"Really? You don't?"

"No."

She thought about enlightening him, but the truth was, he might  actually have hit on the perfect solution for getting him off her back  about this. He wouldn't last a day in her apartment, so why not let him  move in? The first morning he couldn't get hot water or the  air-conditioning went on the fritz, he'd be out of there. Billionaire  playboys born with silver spoons in their mouths rarely knew how to  rough it. Not that she'd met that many billionaire playboys-or even more  than one, really-but she was certain her opinion would hold up.

"Okay, fine," she said as he pulled into traffic. "You can move in with me."

"Seriously?" He glanced over at her before fastening his eyes back on the road. "You mean it?"

"I do. If you're willing to move into my place-which, I'm warning you,  is small-then who am I to tell you no? But we need to lay down some  ground rules if we're going to do this."

His smile quickly turned perplexed. "Ground rules?"

"Yeah, like who gets the bathroom when and who does what chores and no sex. You know, the usual."

Now he was frowning and it was all she could do not to crack up again.  It was wrong of her to be enjoying this so much, but she couldn't help  it. After all the tension of the day, messing with him was a welcome  relief.

"Do you have a problem with any of those rules?" she asked when she'd  finally managed to choke down her mirth. The last thing she wanted him  to know was how utterly and completely she expected this to fail.

"Well, you can have the bathroom whenever you want and I'll hire  someone to do the cleaning and I'll do the rest of the chores. But the  no-sex rule-I'm not really okay with that one, no."

"Oh." She kept her voice as innocent as possible. "That's kind of a deal breaker for me, to be honest."

"But we've already had sex. And-" he made a point of glancing at her  stomach "-you're pregnant. So, I'm not really sure what the point would  be of abstaining."

"The point is what I said back at the restaurant. I don't know you. And  my one and only one-night stand excluded, I'm not in the habit of  sleeping with men I don't know. So, yeah, it's a deal breaker."

"I'm your only one-night stand?"

She did laugh then, at the sheer ridiculousness of his response.  "Seriously, that's what you got out of what I said? That you're my one  and only?"

"No, I heard all of it. But that was definitely the most interesting part."

"Of course it was," she said with a snort. "You are such a guy."

He shot her an amused look. "I never claimed to be anything else, sweetheart."

"Don't call me that." The words were instantaneous and forceful, welling up from a place she hadn't thought of in years.

"What?" He looked mystified. "Sweetheart?"

"Yes, that. Don't ever call me that."

"Sure." He held up a placating hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't upset me," she contradicted him.

He didn't respond, but the silence spoke louder than any words ever  could. He knew she was lying, knew she'd had a strong and immediate  reaction to that word. And still he wasn't calling her on it. She didn't  know if that endeared him to her or just pissed her off.

It took a few minutes for the awkwardness to wear off, but Nic finally asked for directions to her apartment.

She kept her voice light and relaxed when she gave them, and eventually  the last of the tension eased away. At least until he'd parked his car  and started following her up the stairs to her apartment.                       
       
           



       

"Is there an elevator?" he asked after they'd started on the third flight.

"Nope," she answered cheerfully.

"That's going to be a problem for you the last couple months of your  pregnancy, don't you think?" She could practically hear the wheels  turning in his head as he tried to figure out how to use this to get her  out of the apartment and into his house.

Not that she would let that happen.

"I already asked my doctor about it. She said it should be  fine-exercise is good for me and the baby. She did warn that if I ended  up having a C-section, I wouldn't be allowed to go up and down them the  first few weeks, but at this point there's nothing to indicate I'll have  anything but a normal delivery." She smiled at him blithely.

"So, there are early indicators that someone might need a C-section?"

"Yes, but I don't have any of them." She reached for his hand, squeezed  it, as they finally made it to her door. "Relax, Nic. Everything's fine  with my pregnancy so far. It's totally boring, which is a good thing,  my doctor assures me."

He still didn't look convinced, but he let it go as she unlocked her  apartment door. "Are you coming in?" she asked after she'd stepped into  her three-foot-by-three-foot entryway.

"Do you want me to?" He watched her face closely as he waited for her answer. "You look pretty tired."

She felt pretty tired. The day had brought so many emotional highs and  lows she felt as if she'd run a marathon-or maybe two. The exhaustion of  her first trimester had disappeared a few weeks ago, but that didn't  mean she wasn't tired at the end of every day. As Stephanie had told  Desi the other day when she'd been caught napping in the break room,  making another person was pretty hard work.

But she and Nic still had things to talk about-such as her ground rules  and whether or not he really wanted to do this now that he'd seen just  how small her apartment was. "It's fine," she told him, stepping back so  he could enter.

He must have read the tiredness on her face, though, because he shook  his head. "I think I'll get going. Let you get some rest." He pulled his  phone out of his pocket, then looked a little shamefaced as he asked,  "Can I get your number again? I promise not to erase it this time."

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see about that," she said.

She'd meant it as a joke, but his eyes shot to hers. He was deadly  serious-deadly earnest-when he told her, "I'm not going anywhere, Desi."

Yeah, that's what they all said. And somehow it had never quite worked  out that way for her. Oh, they all had a really good reason for why they  had to leave-or why she had to-but the results were always the same.  Her, alone, trying to pick up the pieces of a heart broken by too many  people too many ways and too many times.