The Millionaire Affair(44)

This is how arrangements were done. He knew because he'd set the terms  for an arrangement with Lissa. With Megan. With Natalie. The three  girlfriends he'd had since Rachel had ruined his heart. Although, now,  the title of "Heart Ruiner" could be awarded to Kimber. She'd not only  destroyed his heart-hey, he had one, go figure-but she would continue to  destroy it for years to come. He traced the line of her delicate neck  to the arms that had once held on to him like he was her port in a  storm.

You deserve this.

He did. He deserved this hurt. For attempting to marginalize her. For  ignoring his true feelings each and every time he sank into her body.  For lying to her right now instead of admitting how unfair this was. For  both of them.

For the three of us.

But he couldn't change who he was this late in the game, could he? If he  was Evan, he could swear and yell, and slam doors, showing his feelings  through overzealous behavior. If he was Aiden, he'd have the right  words, be brave enough to tell Kimber the truth, and bare his heart.

But Landon wasn't his brothers. He was stuck with his own personality.  An air of control, a penchant for order and organization, and a past  that had primed him to expertly execute the arrangement Kimber had asked  for.

And that's what he'd do.

Because he loved her.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


Kimber didn't know what sucked worse. That Landon hadn't argued with her  or that he'd made a plan with so much efficiency it masqueraded as  relief.

Only he hadn't been relieved …  she didn't think. He'd been almost cold.  His usually bright eyes had been shuttered; flat and dark. Emotionless.  Now that she thought about it, he'd avoided her eyes the entire time  they talked, despite her attempt to lighten the conversation with a  gentle joke here and there. He'd simply kept his eyes on the sheet of  paper in front of him and filled in the blanks.

Did I do the right thing?

She studied the agreement now, sliding her fingers over his neat  penmanship. In one part he'd requested copies of the doctor's bills and  prior knowledge of any special visits or emergencies. He'd been very  amicable. They'd agreed on most things, to her surprise. And the items  they hadn't agreed on weren't deal-breakers.

Which made her think they really would have been good together. But  maybe she misread him. Maybe his amicability, his distance, had  everything to do with his concern for their baby, not her. If he cared  for her at all, would he have allowed her to make this list in the first  place?

Something felt wrong. Then again, every time she'd trusted her feelings,  she'd made a mistake. She thought of Glo, her mother, Mick. Everyone  around her agreed single motherhood was better than staying with Landon.  And since she couldn't trust her own feelings, she had defaulted to the  people closest to her. Her hand strayed to her stomach. She had more to  think about than herself.

Her heart ached as she pictured Landon at the door before he left. His  face wasn't set in stone like it had been earlier, but his eyes were as  expressionless as before. "If your insurance doesn't cover something,  will you let me help?" he'd asked. Asked instead of demanded. Which was  likely why she'd agreed.

At least we have guidelines, she thought the next day while spacing the  hangers on a rack in Hobo Chic. Their new list wasn't as fun as the  original list they'd worked their way through. The list of ten ways to  curl her toes and make her feel like a woman. Cherished. She'd asked him  to cherish her that first night, and oh, he had. He had every day.  Until yesterday.

"Whoa, sweetheart." Neil stepped in her range of vision, and she blinked  at his overly gelled hair. "You've been zoning out at this rack of  peasant dresses for a while now. Either you're about to get your Little  House on the Prairie on, or your mind is on someone tall, hot, and  wealthy." He lifted a manicured eyebrow.

"I'm pregnant," she blurted.

Neil's expression clearly revealed his thoughts, but he spoke them, too. "Whaaaaat?"

"May as well tell everyone. It'll be obvious soon, anyway." If not by  her expanding belly, then by the way she'd been inhaling rocky-road  brownies from the bakery across the street. If she wasn't careful, that  could become a seriously bad habit.         

     



 

That evening, over another of Jilly's SinSational brownies, Kimber  worked a pencil down the sketchpad on her lap. One of her favorite  hobbies before she'd opened her store had been designing her own  clothing. She used to create her own patterns, too, though she'd never  worn any of her creations. They'd been more for fun than function. Yet  another dream that hadn't come true.

She took another bite of her brownie, brushing crumbs from the page,  watching as the dress appeared almost magically. Whenever a vision was  in her head, getting it from her brain to paper happened seamlessly, in a  flurry of motion. Drawing complete, she finished the rest of her  brownie and admired her work, adding in a line here or a shadow there to  finish it off.

One of my better ones, she thought without an ounce of bragging. She  used to believe at one point she'd be designing dresses like these for  the Lissa Francines of the fashion world. She'd pictured her creations  prancing across the catwalk while she watched from behind the curtain.

Man plans and God laughs. Ain't it the truth?

After the snafu with fashion royalty Karl Kingsley, and her eventual  shunning from the fashion world, Kimber had slunk away, beaten and  bruised. None of it mattered now. Even if she would entertain the  outrageous possibility of reclaiming her passion for design, she was in  no position to act on it. Not now. Not with a baby on the way. She'd be  lucky to maintain her current schedule and care for an infant full-time.  Although Landon would have partial custody. She'd never take that from  him. He'd make an amazing father.

What would that be like? she thought with a dart of pain to the chest.  She pictured him cradling their child, murmuring softly to him in the  dark and shushing him to sleep. Just envisioning Landon in a rocking  chair, their tiny child in his large, capable hands, had a lump forming  in her throat.

She wouldn't get to witness those nights. She'd miss the moments where  he learned to be an amazing dad. And he would be. She'd seen the  evidence when he was with Lyon. He loved his nephew, had spoiled him  rotten. He'd do the same or more for their baby.

With a sad smile, she imagined what would have happened if she'd said  yes to his offer. Yes to the idea to moving her store, moving in with  him. To having a partner at her side when she became a mother, the most  difficult job on the planet.

But she hadn't said yes. She'd refused. She'd opted to work and struggle  and keep up with her apartment, the business, and the schedule, and be a  full-time mom. Because if their story didn't have a fairy-tale ending,  she couldn't bear tearing her child away from him. Leaving angry,  fighting for custody, being embittered like her mom or fading away like  her dad.

Landon had been right about one thing-probably many things-but at the  moment she'd grant him the one. Kimber needed help. She'd have to hire  someone else to work at Hobo Chic in her place. She'd have to lessen her  hours. That would cost money, time. Sacrifice.

She would sacrifice. Because she knew what waited at the end of the road  if she stayed with Landon. She knew what became of a relationship that  started and ended for the sake of a child. With her emotions and  hormones wreaking havoc in her body, how could she trust her heart? How  could she believe that she and Landon could have-against all odds-formed  an unbreakable, forever bond in such a short span of time?

She couldn't.

And because she couldn't trust herself, she would have to trust the  people around her who loved her. Her mother, Gloria. Neither of them had  a thing to gain by steering her in the wrong direction.

She glanced at her drawing again-at the smooth lines of the skirt, the  arching ruffles over the neckline, the marks meant to emulate winking  rhinestones-tore the page from the sketchbook, and crumbled it in one  fist.

A tear slid down her face, but she wasn't crying about the lost  opportunities of her youth or about the life of motherhood she'd chosen  with open eyes. No, the regret swimming in her stomach had nothing to do  with her and everything to do with Landon.

And how much she would miss him. Her heart said she loved him …  and more  than anything she wished she could allow herself to believe it.



"I'm leaving in an hour," Landon told Evan over the phone. He closed the  boardroom door behind him, leaving his capable team in charge while he  was away. He wouldn't miss Lyon turning seven for anything. Not even a  Cheez-Bitts account.

He ended the call and allowed himself to feel a modicum of pride at  successfully breaking into the food industry. Windy City had helped  Downey Design have a reputation for being capable of selling the common  man's brands.