Pregnant by the Maverick Millionaire (12 page)

“In an interview with Ms. Stewart, she candidly admitted she didn't believe in love. ‘I believe in sex. I believe in being independent, of standing on my own two feet. I believe in my career, in forging my own path, in keeping an emotional distance.'

“She doesn't seem to have much faith in Kade Webb, either. Webb, according to Ms. Stewart, won't stick around for the long haul. To Kade, having a baby is a novelty and she expects him to lose interest.”

Brodie gripped the arms of her chair. Oh, this was bad. This was very bad.

“Luckily for the Mavericks, Bennett is regarded as a trash-talking, sensation-seeking journalist. He is best to be ignored. Wren thought he was sucking the story out of thin air, but I heard your voice in those words. What happened?”

“He posed as a client and he fooled me,” Brodie reluctantly admitted.

Kade leaned a shoulder into the wall, his face a blank mask. His eyes were flat and emotionless and his mouth was a hard line. Kade was, she knew, incandescently angry. Maybe this was the final straw; she'd pushed him away so many times...maybe this time she'd pushed him too far. She'd tested his commitment to sticking by her and their child and he'd passed every test. But this was no longer a game, she realized; she'd pushed too hard and too far.

She didn't need him to verbalize his intentions; he was done. The moment she'd both dreaded and welcomed was here and the pain would follow. She would deal with it and then she would go back to her safe, emotion-free life.

The life she wanted, she reminded herself. The life she felt comfortable in. The lonely, color-free, safe, boring life.

“Did I ever give you reason to think I would fade away?”

“No.”

“That I was playing at being a father?”

Brodie shook her head.

“I read that blog while standing outside the gallery exhibiting my father's latest work. It struck me you could've been describing my father—that's the way he was, the way he acted.”

God, she hadn't thought of that. Hadn't meant him to think that. He was
nothing
like the man who sired him. “I'm sorry.”

“Being sorry doesn't help, neither does how I feel about you.” Kade shook his head. “I can't keep doing this, Brodie. I can't fight your fear anymore, you've got to do that yourself. I told you I'll be here for you but you don't want to believe it and I can't force you to.”

Kade shoved a hand into his hair. “For you to think that, verbalize it, means you either believe it or you want to believe it. It doesn't matter which. Either way it tells me you are intolerant of intimacy and you deliberately cut yourself off. And this—” Kade showed her the screen “—this is you running. I'm not going to be the sap who runs after you, begging you to give me another chance. I did that with my father, I will not do it again. I've given you enough chances. I'm worth more than that and, frankly, so are you.”

Brodie felt the kick in her stomach, in her heart, in her head. “Okay.”

“Okay? That's it? That's all you have to say?”

She wouldn't throw herself at his knees and beg him not to leave her. It was better this way; it had to be. “What do you want to do about the baby?”

“The baby? God!” Kade looked like he wanted to put his fist through a wall. “Right now I'm so damn mad at you I can't think! Do you not understand you are throwing away something pretty amazing to hide behind those walls you've built up? I'm scared, too, Brodie. Raising kids, being together, is meant to be scary!”

“There are no guarantees, Kade.”

“Of course there aren't! You just take what happiness you can and run with it. You just feel damn grateful for it.” Kade rubbed his hands over his face. “I'm talking to a freaking brick wall. Have fun hiding out, Brodie. As I said, I'm done.”

Brodie nodded once and bit her bottom lip, everything in her trying to keep the tears at bay. “Okay.”

“Okay? That's all you have? For God's sake...” Kade slapped his hand against the door frame as he whipped around. “Talking to a friggin' wall.”

Brodie waited until she heard the door to the outer office slam closed before she finally allowed herself to cry. Hunched over and hurting, she watched from a place far away as tears ran off her face and dropped to the carpet below.

Yeah, the pain was here, accompanied by desolation and despair. It was okay, she'd been here before and she'd handled it.

She could do it again.

But right now she just wanted to cry, for herself, for her child, for the butterflies in her stomach that were dying a slow and excruciating death.

* * *

Kade was convinced he held the record for the fastest heartbreak in the history of the world. Within the space of the afternoon he'd realized he loved Brodie and that nothing would ever come of it. His mind wanted to stop loving her but he knew his heart always would.

Kade loosened his tight grip on the stem of his wineglass and stared at False Creek, for the first time not seeing the beauty below him. It had been twilight when he returned home from work tonight, three weeks since he'd walked out of Brodie's office and her life. And while he could remember the exact date and time his life turned dark, he had no idea what time it was now.

Brodie had done what he'd expected, maintained radio silence. They hadn't spoken, messaged, emailed or texted each other and he felt adrift. Before Brodie hurtled her way into his life he'd felt content with his lot, generally happy. He hadn't wanted a relationship and had been content to have an affair here, a one-night stand there. No promises, no hassle.

Brodie had been nothing but a hassle and an all-around pain in his ass, but when she wasn't annoying him, she brought light and laughter to his life. Kade placed his forearm over his eyes and cursed his burning eyes.

He finally loved someone with everything he had and she wanted jack from him. Life was laughing at him.

He wanted to go to Brodie, wanted to beg her to allow him to be part of her life, but he knew that was a road heading straight to a deeper level of hell. He'd be seeing her again in five months or so anyway, and maybe by then he would've stopped thinking about what they could've had.

Growing up with his father had taught Kade that chasing rainbows led to disappointment. You couldn't force someone to love you. Love wasn't something to be demanded; it either was or it...wasn't.

He loved Brodie and while he suspected she could love him, she didn't. She wouldn't allow herself to love him and he wasn't going to beg. He wanted everything and he wouldn't settle for anything less. He couldn't; the resentment would kill him and, worse, it would kill his love for her.

So he'd love her from a distance for the rest of his life. That was the way it had to be so the sooner he got used to feeling like crap, the better.

Kade sat up, rested his forearms on his thighs and dangled the glass between his knees. He could wallow or he could distract himself. He could call Quinn and they could go clubbing. He could go to Mac and Rory's for dinner. He could do some work or a gym session.

What he wasn't going to do was to sit on this couch in the dark and feel sorry for himself. Yet it was another fifteen minutes before he got up and another ten before he crossed the room to flick on some lights.

He just needed time, he told himself. A millennium or two might be long enough to get over her.

Twelve

T
he summer holidays were almost over and the vast beaches on the west side of Vancouver Island had been, for all intents and purposes, returned to the birds and the crabs that were the year-round residents of the island. Soon the leaves would start to turn, winter would drop the temperature and the storms would roll in.

But for now, Brodie and Poppy walked the empty beach, bare feet digging into the sand, watching the rolling waves kiss the shore. The stiff breeze pushed Brodie's thin hoodie against her round tummy and kicked sand up against her bright blue yoga pants. She loved this place, Brodie realized. Away from Vancouver, away from the city, she could breathe and think.

“When are you going to stop punishing yourself for living?” Poppy asked as she took Brodie's arm.

Brodie pushed a hunk of hair out of her eyes and squinted at Poppy. “I'm not punishing myself.”

“Really? Well, the way I see it there is a man on the mainland who wants to be part of your life, who wants to raise this baby with you, but you are determined to take the hard road and do it all by your little lonesome. Is that not punishing yourself?”

“That's me protecting myself,” Brodie retorted.

“From what? Pain?” Poppy asked. “From loneliness?”

Brodie stared out to sea and focused her attention on a ship on the horizon and ignored Poppy's probing questions. She didn't want to think about Kade, though there was little else she thought about these days. She definitely didn't want to talk about him.

But Poppy wasn't intimidated by Brodie's scowling face or her frown. “News flash, you are so damn lonely you don't know what to do with yourself.”

“Pops, please.”

Poppy dropped her arm and they stood side by side, looking out to sea. Poppy released a long breath. “Do you see that ship?”

She'd only been staring at it for the past half hour. Brodie nodded, glad Poppy had dropped the subject of Kade. “It's a container ship, probably headed for Japan.”

Poppy nodded, her expression contemplative. “There's a saying about ships and leaving the harbor...do you know it?”

Brodie shook her head.

“It goes something like this—‘a ship in the harbor is safe, but that's not what ships are built for.'”

Brodie wrinkled her nose. How silly she'd been to think Poppy had dropped the subject; Poppy only stopped when she'd brought you around to her way of thinking.

“Ships aren't built for safety but neither are humans. We should take risks. We
have
to take risks. You and Kade? Well, that's a risk worth taking.”

“I'm scared. Of loving him too much, scared it won't last forever. Scared he thinks he loves me but only loves me because of this baby. So scared he might—”

“Die?” Poppy interrupted. “What if you die? What if a freak tsunami washes you off the beach right now? What then? What if you die giving birth? What then?”

“That would suck,” Brodie admitted.

“It really would. But would you want Kade to be alone for the rest of his life, to—metaphorically speaking—wear black widower's weeds, too scared to love again, laugh again? To live again?”

Dammit. She knew where Poppy was going with this but she couldn't find anything to say to get out of this quandary. All she could think of was that it was easier for Poppy to say it than for Brodie to do it.

“Well?” Poppy demanded.

“But—”

“There are no buts. Jay would hate to see you like this. Your parents would be so disappointed in you.” Poppy grabbed Brodie's chin and forced her to meet faded blue eyes. Poppy's body might be old but her eyes were alive and fierce and determined.

“Do you love him?”

Brodie couldn't lie, wouldn't lie. “Yes.”

“These are your choices and you need to think them through. You can wallow and live a miserable half life until you die. You can keep punishing yourself, keep disappointing yourself because you don't have the balls to choose differently.”

“God, Poppy.”

Poppy ignored Brodie's desperate laugh. “Or you can take your butt back to the city, throw yourself at his feet and apologize for being an ass. Find out if he loves you, if this is a forever thing. Face your fears.”

“That's a hard decision to make, even harder to do,” Brodie protested.

“Do it anyway,” Poppy suggested. “Be brave enough to be happy, Brodie. Don't let your fear win. You are stronger than that, more courageous than you think. Just do it, my darling. Reach out and grab the future you've always wanted.”

“But what if I'm too late?” Brodie asked, unsure why she was asking this question because she wasn't going to go to Kade, wasn't going to ask for another chance. That was crazy talk...wasn't it?

Poppy's sweet smile held more than a trace of satisfaction. And triumph. “What if you're not?” She placed a wrinkled hand on Brodie's face. “Don't make me get tough with you, Brodie.”

“This isn't you being tough?” Brodie demanded with a sarcastic laugh.

“Honey, I haven't even warmed up yet. I can go on for hours,” Poppy stated prosaically. “You might as well just give in now and save us both the time and energy.”

Brodie put her arms around Poppy's waist and rested her head on her great-aunt's shoulder. “Well, when you put it like that...”

* * *

Brodie used her shaking index finger to key in the code that would take her straight up to Kade's apartment. She hoped he hadn't changed the code. That would be mortifying. She entered the last number and waited for the elevator doors to slide open. When they did she had to force herself to step inside.

She could do this. She had to do this.

If she didn't speak to Kade tonight, she never would. She would talk herself out of being brave. She'd allow herself to backslide, to rationalize why she would be better off alone.

Talk the truth, even if your voice shakes.

Poppy's words stuck with Brodie and she repeated them to herself as the elevator took her higher, and closer, to the love of her life.

And he was that. Jay, dear Jay, had been marvelous, but her feelings for Kade were deeper, harder and stronger. Maybe that's why she'd been fighting this so hard. Loving Kade wouldn't be easy but he'd be worth it.

She had to tell him, had to see if he felt the same.

As the elevator stopped at the top floor she touched her stomach in that age-old protective gesture women had been using through the centuries.

Wish me luck, baby. Here's hoping we get to be a family.

Brodie stepped into the dark loft, the lights from downtown Vancouver dancing in the floor-to-ceiling windows. The apartment was ridiculously quiet and she bit her lip, feeling like an idiot. She hadn't considered the notion that Kade might not be here. He could be anywhere—with his friends, out of town, on a date. The only thing worse than Kade coming home with a date would be finding Kade upstairs in bed with another woman. With the doors closed, she wouldn't be able to hear a thing.

It had only been three weeks. He wouldn't have moved on so soon, would he? Then again, she'd kept pushing him away, telling him that what they had was only sex. Maybe he was upstairs, doing all those fabulous things he did to her...

Brodie threw her bag onto the couch and stormed toward the staircase. If she'd been bawling her eyes out while he slept his way through the pack of puck bunnies, Brodie might be forced to do something drastic.

What, she wasn't sure, but it would hurt. A lot.

Brodie flung open the door to his bedroom and hurtled over the threshold, stopping when she realized his enormous bed was neatly made and, crucially, empty. Brodie closed her eyes and hauled in a deep breath.

“You're acting like a crazy woman, Stewart,” she muttered.

“Can't say that I disagree.”

Brodie whirled around and saw Kade standing in the doorway to his en suite bathroom, a towel wrapped around his narrow hips. Man, he was gorgeous. How could she have walked away from that?

He was sexy and hot but he was also a good man. Someone who was loyal and kind and considerate and...hers.

“What are you doing here, Brodie?” Kade asked, his expression forbidding.

“Uh...” Okay, she was being silly but she just had to make sure. “Is there anyone in there with you?”

Kade turned his head to look back into the bathroom. “Busted. Come on out, honey,” he called.

Brodie's heart ker-plunked. She placed a hand on her sternum and tried to find something to say.

“God, Brodie, don't be an idiot,” Kade snapped. “There's no one here. I was just messing with you.”

Brodie scowled. “Don't do that, okay?”

“I think I've got a right,” Kade retorted. He pushed his hand through his wet hair. “I can't stand here, almost naked, with you in the room. Why don't you go downstairs and keep walking across the apartment until you hit the elevator. I doubt there's anything you have to say that I want to hear.”

“No.” Brodie lifted her chin.

“No?”

“No, I'm not going to do that.”

Kade shrugged, sent her a sarcastic smile and walked to his closet. Dropping the towel to the floor, Brodie watched him go into the small room, bare-ass naked. Man, he was so messing with her.

“So why are you here? Missing the sex?” Kade asked as he reached for a pair of sweats.

“Yes,” Brodie replied, thinking honesty was the best policy. “Of course I am. We are fabulous together and I love making love with you.”

Kade pulled on the sweats and turned, gripping the top of the door frame with white fingers. “Is that what you're back for?” He took in her leggings and bohemian shirt. “Fine. But you're a bit overdressed. Strip.”

“Stop being a jerk, Kade,” Brodie snapped.

“Then again, if it's just sex you're back for, then I am not interested.” Kade dropped his arms. He rubbed his hands over his face and when he looked at her again, those beautiful eyes were bleak. And his voice, when he spoke again, sounded desolate. “Just go, Brodie. Please.”

She'd done this, Brodie thought, ashamed of herself. She'd hurt him. She'd wounded this powerful, smart man just because she'd been too scared to take a chance. To live. Well, that stopped now, right this minute. She needed to be better than that; her child—their child—and Kade deserved better. But how to tell him? What to say?

Brodie walked past the bed to the open balcony doors and thought about Vancouver Island. Remembering Poppy and their conversation, Brodie pushed her shoulders back and placed her hands behind her, anchoring herself to the door frame.

“When I was about eleven, I was a bridesmaid and I fell in love with the idea of love. I became slightly obsessed with weddings, with the idea of happily-ever-after. Jay was the boy from down the road and even then, I thought he might be the one.”

Brodie risked looking at Kade, relieved to see he was interested in what she was saying. His expression was still remote and, to be honest, scarily forbidding, but he hadn't kicked her out. It was progress but she had a long way to go. “I made a scrapbook. What my dress would look like, the color scheme, my bridesmaids' dresses, the whole shebang.”

“Is there a point to this?” Kade asked, impatient.

Brodie ignored him. “Strangely, I pretty much nailed what I wanted for a wedding at eleven. When I flipped open the scrapbook shortly before the accident, excited because Jay and I were moving on from being best friends to something more, there was little I wanted changed. But one aspect jumped out at me and it's been bugging me.”

“Pray tell.”

Still sarcastic, Brodie sighed. “Jay was dark-haired and blue-eyed, short and stocky,” Brodie continued. “My eleven-year-old self didn't have him in mind when she was imagining her groom. Jay looked nothing like the tall, blond, sexy man in my scrapbook.”

Kade didn't say anything but Brodie noticed his expression had turned from remote to speculative.

“Do you think my younger self knew something I didn't? Even then? Don't you think that's spooky?”

“I don't give a damn about your eleven-year-old self,” Kade stated, his tone brisk. “I want to know what you want, right now.”

Right, time to jump off this cliff. God, she hoped he was going to catch her. “You.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “I just want you. Any way I can get you.”

“Explain that,” Kade demanded, his eyes locked on hers.

Brodie wished he would come to her, initiate contact. “This has nothing to do with the fact we have such incredible sexual chemistry, or that you're my baby's father. Or that you are hot, which, I have to say, is a bonus...” Brodie smiled but Kade didn't react. He didn't say a damn thing, just continued to stare at her with those hot, demanding eyes.

Oh, crap. He was going to make her say it. She hauled in a breath and gathered her courage. “I love you. I just want to be with you.” Brodie bit her bottom lip. “I'm so sorry about what I said, did. I was trying to fall out of love with you. But I need you to know I believe you are nothing like your father, that I know you will be a spectacular dad.”

Kade rubbed his jaw and then the back of his neck. “Jesus, Brodie.”

“I'm sorry. For everything I said because I was so damn scared.” Brodie stared at her red ballet pumps. She turned her head and looked at Kade. He seemed gobsmacked and, she had to admit, not very damn happy at her proclamation. She'd been too late. She'd lost him.

Brodie forced her rubbery legs to walk toward the door. She scooped up her bag as she walked past the bed.

“What do you want from me, Brodie?” Kade intercepted her and placed both his hands on her upper arms.

Brodie shrugged. “Nothing you can't give me, openly and honestly. I just want you in my life, any way I can get you. With or without the baby, I love you. It's taken me a while, but now it's suddenly simple. It's fine that you don't love me. I still want you to be my friend, to co-parent with you, to be our baby's dad.”