The Millionaire Affair(42)

Landon nearly blacked out at the question, then realized it was because  he hadn't taken a breath in several long seconds. "Either," he managed,  his throat tight, tears barely barricaded behind his eyelids. He'd  underestimated how much the news of a child would mean to his family. He  thought of the stroller, all the bags of baby things. To Kimber's  mother. To everyone. This wasn't a project he could craft a to-do list  around; this was a baby, a life that would make his father a grandfather  for the second time, would make his brothers uncles again, and his  sister Angel …  God. Angel. What would he tell her? After her issues with  fertility, how could he call and tell her he and Kimber had made an Oops  Baby?

"Sadie's waving at me. Holy crap, how many pairs did she buy?" Aiden muttered.

"Listen, I'm not sure how to tell everyone yet, so keep this to yourself, okay, Aid?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'll tell Sadie, but she's Fort Knox."

"What am I Fort Knox about?" he heard Sadie ask.

"I'll let you go. Thanks," Landon said in a hurry. He hung up the phone,  more confused than he was before. He'd called Aiden because he'd needed  someone to talk to, and instead had reached a conclusion he hadn't  expected.

This whole thing with Kimber wasn't nearly as casual and easy to  organize as he'd thought. He was navigating through relationship  territory and that was dicey. He had no idea what he was doing.

He swept his eyes down the legal pad under his hand. Everything a baby  needed in a tidy, neat list. Crib, blankets, onesies, pacifier, diapers,  rocking chair, and about a hundred other things he'd found online. He'd  checked off each item after he purchased it. The page was full of  checkmarks from top to bottom and would have run his American Express  card up to the limit if it had one.

He'd gone on an Internet shopping spree in a blaze of jealousy over Mick  and Kimber's mother …  and to prove to Kimber that she needed him.  Because, quite frankly, he was afraid that she didn't.

In his hustling to make himself look important, he'd neglected to  consider what Kimber needed. What their child might really need. He'd  handled this situation the way he handled everything else. Going through  the motions. Arranging. Because that's what he did.

No wonder she's pissed.

What he should've done was let her know how he felt. All he had to do was figure out what he was thinking first.

No, you don't.

No. He didn't. He knew. He may not have relationship experience, but  he'd had enough non-relationship experience to recognize what he and  Kimber had was different from anything in his past. He hadn't had this  with anyone-not even Rachel, and that had been the deepest relationship  he'd had.

Until Kimber. She'd raised the bar so high, it was in orbit.

He chucked the list into the trash. He'd tell her tonight. Make her  understand how he felt …  how much she meant to him. How much he …

A lump formed in his throat.

How much I love her.



"Well?" Gloria asked when Kimber exited the doctor's office.

Kimber looped her arm in her friend's as they walked to the door. "It's  official. I'm pregnant." As if there'd been any doubt. Her rogue craving  for olives and bone-draining fatigue was proof enough. She cast a  glance around the waiting room. Several women eyed them with interest.  "And I'm pretty sure everyone here thinks we're a couple," she mumbled  to Glo.

They left the doctor's office and headed to the mall to eat junk food  and buy things they didn't need. She filled Glo in on her mother's  concerns, on Mick and Landon's pissing contest, on Landon's corporate  takeover of her life.         

     



 

Glo handed over one of two Häagan-Dazs bars she'd just purchased at a  stall in the food court and directed her to a small table with two  chairs.

"Mmm. Nothing could be better than this," Kimber said, chocolate melting  on her tongue. Sun streamed in through the glass ceiling overhead, and  water splashed onto tall, tropical plants arranged around the decorative  fountain next to them.

"Want to know what I think?"

She wasn't sure she did want to know what Glo thought. Actually, she was  pretty sure she already knew what Glo thought. "About the ice cream?"  she hedged.

Gloria slow-blinked.

"I'm kidding. Of course I want to know what you think."

"I love you. I just want you to know the truth. The way I see it,  anyway. You are capable of making decisions without my jaded input, you  know."

Kimber smiled wholeheartedly. "I respect your opinion, Glo. No need to  warn me. Come on, I count on you for zero sugar coating." Especially now  when she didn't want to hear the one thing she needed to hear most.

Glo lowered her ice cream bar and met Kimber's eyes. "You and Landon are  going to have a hard enough time raising a child together."

Kimber quirked her lips. Tell her something she didn't know.

"You're from two different worlds," Glo continued. "He can't expect you  to live in his worry-free world any more than you can expect him to be  happy amongst boxes of frayed clothing and retro furniture."

Hmm. Her rust-colored couch would look odd in his elegant space. And  what about her clutter of papers and bills for Hobo Chic? His office was  pristine, everything in neat stacks and labeled …  or at least it had  been until he'd cleared the desk and threw her on top of it, she thought  with a satisfied smirk. A smirk she wiped off her face before Glo  caught her daydreaming about amazing sex with the father of her unborn  baby.

"Could you imagine sharing a closet with him?" Glo said, taking another bite of her ice cream.

Kimber pictured her beat-up wardrobe next to Landon's  multi-thousand-dollar suits and shoes so shiny they could signal a  plane. It was kind of ridiculous. Kind of like them.

He was a streamlined, sleek, suave businessman with a million-dollar  company and a zillion employees. She was lucky to hold on to the three  co-workers she had and tallied her inventory on a thirty-five-dollar  program she'd downloaded off the Internet. She was scrappy. He was  refined. She was mac-and-cheese-from-a-box. He was Tuna Tartare.

Glo cleaned the remainder of her ice cream from the stick. "What if he  wants to send junior to a private or charter school and you want public  or home school? What if he doesn't share your views on religion?  Vaccinations? Politics?"

Kimber's ice cream dripped on the napkin she'd spread on the table in  front of her. She hadn't considered any of those things. Shouldn't she  at least know his political affiliation or if he believed in God before  they raised a child together?

"The best thing for both of you"-Glo pointed at her with the bare  popsicle stick-"is to talk through the major issues now. Before the baby  is born and your judgment is completely clouded."

Well. That sounded reasonable.

"Work it out ahead of time." Kimber nodded, seeing the first glimmer of  hope since Glo had turned into Debbie Downer. Landon was in his element  in planning mode. If they sat down to have a conversation outlining the  basics of bringing up their child, he'd handle it perfectly. She stared  into the splashing water of the fountain next to her table, her worries  beginning to dissipate. He was pragmatic, organized, and thorough.  Everything she wasn't.

"Honey." Glo reached across the table to grasp her hand. "There's only  one way you'll be able to make unbiased decisions with this man."

She pegged Glo with a look that asked And that is?

"Break it off," Glo answered firmly.

She felt the side-to-side motion of her head shaking.

"I mean it, Kimber," her best friend insisted, concern coloring her blue  eyes. "As long as you keep having sex with him, you'll let him talk you  into anything."

"Ha!" She pointed her melting ice cream bar at Glo before making a face  and dropping the mess onto her napkin. "That's not true," she said,  cleaning off her fingers. "He didn't talk me into anything this  morning."

"You didn't have sex with him last night."

Damn. She was right. Was the sex clouding her judgment? It is and you know it.

"No más," Glo said with a wag of her finger. "It's the only way."         

     



 

The terrifying part was that she suspected Glo was right.



At dark, Kimber parked her clanking car in the alleyway behind Hobo Chic  and took the back stairs up to her apartment. As she slid the key in  the lock, a scuffling sound came from the bottom of the steps. The  safety light behind the man at ground level cast his face in shadow, but  she easily made out his long, lean build and spiked, stylish hair.

"Landon." Saying his name hurt, especially considering what she had to do.

"One and only." He climbed the long flight, and she waited, pushing the  door open and gesturing for him to go in ahead of her. He swept his arms  around her, she assumed to pull her close for a long, wet kiss. Since  that had been recently determined as ill-advised, she palmed his chest  and pushed, just a gentle shove.