The Millionaire Affair(39)

"I'm pregnant, not sick." Fortunately, that was true. The dreaded  morning sickness hadn't come. Yet, anyway. Maybe she'd be lucky enough  to avoid it altogether.

Mick had the supplies in her house in three trips. With the last haul,  he collapsed on the sofa to catch his breath. "Where are you going to  put a baby in this place?"

She followed his eyes around her tiny loft. If only her apartment had  been the size of the store downstairs. It wasn't. Over three-quarters of  the building's upstairs was being leased out for use as storage,  Kimber's apartment making up the diminutive difference.

"He'll fit."

"It's a boy?" Mick's eyes twinkled.

She shook her head, perplexed by everyone's über-happy reaction to her  unplanned surprise. She expected to argue and explain herself. Could be  her age helping with the free pass. She was thirty-two, not sixteen.  "Too early to tell."

He nodded. "Need help putting anything away?"

"No thanks. I kind of want to nest." She glanced around her apartment, her mind rearranging the room. "Or something."

Mick surprised her by standing and cupping her jaw in one hand. He tipped her chin. "This guy. Is he going to be around?"

She shrugged. She assumed Landon would be around, but in actuality had  no idea. After the intense sex the other night, he'd run away like he'd  been late for dinner with the president of the United States. They were  supposed to talk that night, but she hadn't wanted to wait around for  him to pull himself together. And he'd been obviously frazzled. She'd  left a note telling him she'd be busy the next few days, and that they'd  talk soon. She hadn't expected to go to see her mother until she'd  woken the next morning needing to talk to someone. Someone who wasn't  her baby's father.

"I'll be here," Mick murmured, stunning her further. "I won't let you be alone in this, Kimber."

"I'll be fine." Mick had never wanted the responsibility of …  well …  anything. What was he talking about?

His eyes flickered over her face, brows arched at a sympathetic bend. "You've always been so independent."

She took a breath and, desperate for a subject change, reached up and  plucked the clip from his hair. The strands flopped down in every  direction, and she rearranged them on his head. "There. Now you look-"

Before she could pull her hand away, he lowered his lips and placed a  feather-light kiss on her mouth. When he backed away, Kimber registered a  man standing in her open doorway.

Landon.

In that single second in time, he'd walked in to find her hands in  Mick's hair and Mick's mouth on hers, making one thing certain.

Landon had the worst timing imaginable.



What. The fuck.

Landon gripped the shopping bag, his fingers numb, his vision blurred by  a sea of red at the sight of the guy kissing Kimber. Had to be her ex.  He'd heard enough about him to know this guy had no problem eschewing  basic decency.

And kissing Kimber, after Landon had made love to her days ago, was definitely indecent.         

     



 

She plucked her hand from the guy's hair and pushed him aside. But the  sight of Mick's frown didn't make Landon feel marginally better.

"Landon," she said. "What a surprise." Her smile was fake. As fake as the photos in Lissa's portfolio.

"I should have called." Apparently.

"Yeah, you should've," her ex said, taking a step toward the door.

"No." She stayed his next step with a hand around his arm. Landon would  like it if she stopped touching the tattooed, pierced dickweed  altogether. "I'm glad you're here," she told Landon. It sounded like the  truth. "Mick, why don't you go help Neil in the store?"

"Yeah, Mick. Get to work." He shouldn't have, but he couldn't help himself.

Mick met him at the door, a few paces from where Kimber was standing,  and stopped short of scuffing Landon's shoes. "Peddle your prissy ass  elsewhere, millionaire. Let us common folk handle our business."

After mentally determining he wouldn't injure the mobile and stuffed dog  inside, Landon dropped the shopping bag. He leaned in, marginally, but  enough for Mick to move his chin back a fraction. "This is our business,  Mick. She's carrying my baby. You're just a guy she used to date."

He raised a finger, Landon presumed to poke him in the chest with it. If  he did, Landon would break it. So help him, he'd snap the digit in two.

"You-"

"Enough!" Kimber shouted. Mick's finger halted midair, centimeters from needing a splint.

Mick lowered his arm but kept his eyes trained on Landon. Landon  reclaimed his bag, sidestepped Mick, and walked in. He thought about  planting a deep, slow kiss on Kimber's mouth, then remembered that Mick  had just kissed her and thought better of it. His stomach pooled with  disgust.

"Mick. Out." She pointed, authority ringing in her voice. In spite of  the situation, or maybe because of it, she sounded sexy. "Close the door  behind you. Please and thank you."

Mick wasn't happy about it, but he went. Landon started to put Kimber's  gift on the couch, but the cushions were already littered with Babies  ‘R' Us bags.

What the hell?

Had they gone baby shopping together? Landon suddenly felt like he'd  been missing some major component. Was it possible the baby she carried  wasn't his? Possible that she'd been pregnant before they'd slept  together? Or worse. Maybe she'd always wanted a child and had rigged the  condom to-

"Would you stop jumping to a hundred different conclusions and let me explain?" she asked.

He turned to find her arms crossed over her chest. Miffed that she'd  read his mind, he mirrored her posture. Fine. He'd let her explain.

She pointed at the bag in his hand. "Is that for me?"

"Yes." He held fast.

A slightly bemused smile lit her lips like this wasn't a big deal. But  it was a huge deal. Enormous. He took in her simple, patterned dress,  weathered leather bracelets, and sandals. She looked pretty today,  inviting and familiar. And like that, his heart softened to room  temperature butter. Wait. No. He was angry.

"My mother bought this stuff for me," she explained. "I drove to Osborn  yesterday morning to tell her in person. She's excited, by the way."

Very angry, he reminded himself, keeping his expression stony.

"I got home a few minutes ago and I couldn't carry all this stuff up the back stairs so I asked for Mick's help."

Some of his anger dissipated. That sounded …  reasonable. "And the kiss?"  He hated to ask, for fear of the answer. But he deserved an explanation.

She shook her head. "I don't know. He kissed me. I was taking a clip out  of his hair." She still held it. She opened and closed the plastic jaws  before resting the clip on the kitchen counter. "I think he has some  sort of misguided, innate male protectiveness. He didn't want to be a  part of my life when it was just him and me. And, more importantly, I  don't want him."

Her words hovered in the air, and he waited for her to say I want you or  some other proclamation that would make him feel like less of a  cuckold. That he felt this way at all made him want to hit something,  and he wasn't a violent guy. Though wrapping his hands around Mick's  skinny neck would make him feel better.

With a gentle touch, she loosened his fingers around the handle and took  the bag out of his hand. He let her, watching silently as she set it  aside. Before he could remind himself he was still upset with her, she  wrapped her arms around his neck, and her scent looped his brain. Not  the cucumber fragrance he'd grown accustomed to, but something tangy and  sweet, and one hundred percent Kimber. "Thank you for the present."         

     



 

"You haven't opened it yet," he said rigidly. He was still sulking, but  he really hadn't liked the way Mick had touched her. The way he'd kissed  her. Like he was staking a claim on her. Or because Mick had kissed her  before? Yes. That pissed him off most of all.

"I don't care what it is. It's from you," Kimber said sweetly. "I'm sorry about Mick."

The slide of her silky dress beneath his palms did wonders to lower his  blood pressure. He'd missed her over the past few days, but had resisted  calling more than the one time. He wanted to give her some space to  think. Give himself some space to think. What he'd figured out during  his alone time was that he wanted her and this baby in his life more  often than not. Like all the time.

She was lucky he hadn't slipped an engagement ring in with her gift. But even he wasn't that stupid.

"I wish you'd kiss me," she murmured, closing in on him and wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. "I miss you."

Predictably, he caved at her request. But first …  Palm cupping her jaw,  he swiped his thumb across her lips. Knowing what he was doing, and why,  she scrubbed her mouth with the back of her hand before smiling up at  him.

Landon took her lips captive, the kiss starting sweet and edging into  wet, wild territory in a manner of seconds. All of their kisses had been  like this one. Hot. Ferocious. Combustible. His jealousy melted into  the need to claim her. He spied a bed on the other side of the room and  backed her toward it, careful to sidestep the stroller-a stroller,  too?-and other bags littered around the room.