The amount of money in the collective bank accounts of the people in that church blew her mind. Part of her envied what Kiersten and Cole would be able to give their child. They'd never have to worry about finding a decent-and affordable-place to live, or good childcare, or any of the necessities of life. Not to mention all the fun stuff like the latest toys and trendy clothes. That kind of security would be amazing.
But there were some downsides to growing up filthy rich. All she had to do was look around the gathering. Granted, the people streaming into the church were better than many of their subset. Cole and Kiersten were good people and they wouldn't have invited anyone who wasn't more like them than not. Still, there was more than a fair share of trophy wives dripping in diamonds carrying Tiffany gift bags for the new baby. Because that's what every baby needed-a literal silver spoon or two to play with. Even the nicer ones in the bunch seemed a bit out of touch with real, everyday life.
Leah felt like a regular Joe in a sea of Gwyneth Paltrows. They might be nice and mean well, but they still thought a hundred dollars for a T-shirt was a steal and didn't blink an eye at spending a cool grand on a onesie their kid would puke on inside of five minutes. Leah might have to struggle sometimes, but at least her child wouldn't grow up spoiled and out of touch with reality.
Though … a little of that unrealistic fantasy might be nice. Struggling on her own was bad enough. The thought of being responsible for another human being filled her with terror.
All further musings on the impending doom in her life ceased the moment Kiersten handed her baby Piper. Leah smiled down at her goddaughter. People say all babies are cute. People also know that isn't remotely true. There are some unfortunate newborns out there. Piper, however, resided firmly in the adorable zone. Especially at that moment, with her flowing christening gown and matching bonnet, her rosy round cheeks sweetly dimpled, cupid's-bow lips puckered with sleepy phantom sucking.
Leah took a deep breath. Yes. There were many aspects of her impending motherhood that made her want to go into the fetal position herself. But then again, in six months' time, she'd be holding her own tiny bundle of adorableness. It had its perks.
She looked up at the proud parents, not even caring about the dopey grin on her face. Until her gaze met that of Brooks who, as godfather, stood right beside her.
He watched her, his brow drawn slightly. Like she was a puzzle he couldn't figure out. She mentally snorted. Get in line, buddy.
…
The after-christening soiree was in full swing under the tent that had been set up on the beach, the twinkling white lights that had been strung all over anything that didn't move creating an intensely romantic atmosphere. Prime seduction real estate, right there. But the only woman he was even remotely interested in seducing was cradling the guest of honor who had apparently decided it was past her bedtime and had fallen asleep in Leah's arms. Not that he blamed the little thing. Falling asleep in Leah's arms, after doing a few other things there, was currently top on his bucket list.
Of course, he still couldn't quite wrap his head around the thought that she had one of those little creatures growing in her belly. Why he hadn't shaken her hand and immediately hauled ass away from her the moment she'd told him she was pregnant was a mystery he didn't want to delve into just then. His interest still burned strong, bad idea or not. Maybe because it was a bad idea. He was obtuse like that. Whatever the reason, he couldn't get Leah out of his head.
She finally handed the baby back to Kiersten, a curious expression on her face. Like she both longed for and dreaded the idea of someone handing her own baby back to her, which, thankfully, wasn't something that would be happening anytime soon. They still had time to have a little fun first. And now that her attention wasn't occupied …
He downed the rest of his champagne, keeping his gaze zeroed in on her until she looked up. He put on his best swagger and headed straight for her. She watched him approach like he was a lion stalking his prey. Or … maybe a giraffe would be more like it. Did giraffes have prey? Either way, with his height, he'd always been more Deadpool than Wolverine in the body department. And if she got that reference, he'd marry her on the spot.
"Dance with me," he said, holding a hand out to her.
Her eyes widened at the command. "Didn't your mother ever teach you how to ask nicely?"
He gave her a slow grin. "Of course, but I figured if I asked that would give you room to turn me down, and I don't want that."
"You always get what you want?"
"Generally, yes."
"Sounds like you could use a lesson in patience."
He pulled her up and into his arms. "Always the teacher, hmm?"
She grimaced a bit. "I try not to be. Can't seem to help myself."
He swayed with her to the music. "Don't stop on my account. I'm finding the whole schoolteacher thing erotic."
She snorted. "I think you find pretty much everything erotic."
"If it's to do with you, absolutely." He twirled her and she gripped his shoulders. It was all he could do not to haul her against him and show her exactly how erotic he found her. She laughed, despite the obvious effort she was making to keep it together. That quiet, husky sound made him want to really amp her up so he could hear it again. At a louder volume.
He spun her away from him and brought her back, continuing their path along the dance floor.
She glanced around them and then back up at him. "Every woman in here is staring at you. You could have any one of them. Why are you dancing with me?"
He met her gaze. "Because I like you."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You don't even know me."
"I like what I know so far and am trying to get to know you better. If you could stop making that so difficult it would be much appreciated."
Her lips twitched. "You already know the most important thing about me."
He lifted his brows. "I do?"
She let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm pregnant."
"I know."
"And you're still here dancing with me."
He frowned again. "Is there any reason I shouldn't?"
That seemed to confuse her. "I don't know. I figured the whole baby thing would scare the hell out of most guys."
"Why? Is it contagious? Is it going to rub off on me or something?"
The lips twitched into a half grin. "No."
"Are you in imminent danger of giving birth right here on the dance floor?"
"Of course not."
He pulled her closer. "Then I see no reason why we can't have a little fun."
The shy but happy smile she gave him nearly stopped him in his tracks. That smile was like a firefly blinking in a pitch-dark room. Quiet, subtle, and breathtakingly beautiful. The lone spot of light in his world. There was little he wouldn't do to keep that smile on her face.
"Tell me something you want," he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear.
She pulled back enough to meet his gaze. "What?"
"Anything. You name it. The night is ours."
She shrugged, that small smile still in place. "What more could I want? I'm surrounded by friends, on a gorgeous island in the middle of the Mediterranean, in a tent stuffed with the best food I've ever tasted in my life. Seriously, Kiersten needs to give that caterer a massive tip."
She stopped dancing and met his gaze. "And the most handsome man in the room has been trying to make me smile all night. There are worse ways to spend the evening."
He drew a finger along her cheek until he cupped her jaw and drew her forward slowly enough that she could pull away if she wanted to. His heart did a serious fist bump when she leaned into him instead.
"Let's see if we can make the evening even better." Before he could taste the sweet lips that were mere inches from his own, someone clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, mate," a slightly slurred British voice said.
Brooks closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Harrison, what can I do for you?"
Harrison Troy had been a good friend and member of his poker club for years now. Aside from Cole, Harrison was probably his best friend. But, hey, everyone had to die sometime. They'd had a good run. If he didn't walk away right that instant so Brooks could get back to what he'd been about to do, things were going to get ugly.
"Who is this lovely young lady?" Harrison asked, looking Leah up and down.
"This is Leah," Brooks said, keeping her in his arms, but putting her slightly behind him. Not that she needed protection from Harrison; he was true-born British gentry. Unless she had an urgent need to duel to the death with a fencing saber, she was probably safe from old Harry. Harrison, however, was not going to be safe from Brooks if he didn't make himself scarce.
"Leah." Harrison took her hand and kissed it. "Pleasure to meet you."