The Boy Toy

by Nicola Marsh

  “This sounds serious.” Worry creased Kushi’s brow. “It’s not your health, is it? Sushma’s sister-in-law’s cousin had a recent scare with ovarian cancer—”

  “I’m pregnant, Mom.”

  Samira had planned on easing into it, but with her mom likely to go off on many dire tangents like she usually did, she had to tell her.

  Kushi’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened to saucer proportions. “What?”

  “I’m having a baby.” Samira placed a protective hand over her belly. “It’s early days, but I’ve had a blood test, and the doctor at work confirmed it.”

  “But . . . but . . . how . . .” Kushi shook her head, still slack-jawed as she stared at her in bewilderment. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say that you’re happy for me, that you’ll support me, that you’ll love this baby as much as I will.”

  Samira heard the pleading in her tone, and it must’ve got through to her mom, because Kushi leaned forward and pulled her into her arms.

  “Of course I will, betee. I love you, and I will love my first grandchild with every fiber of my being.”

  Tears pooled in Samira’s eyes, and she blinked them away. She couldn’t afford to cry, because she had a feeling if she started, it would be difficult to stop and she might blurt out the whole sorry mess with Pia and Rory.

  When they eased apart, Samira glimpsed the sheen in her mom’s eyes too.

  “That Aussie you’re seeing is the father?”

  Samira nodded. “Rory.”

  “So you said.” Kushi made it sound like a curse. “Have you told him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is he going to marry you?”

  Right now, Samira didn’t know if Rory even wanted to be involved in his child’s life, let alone anything else. Besides, she would never marry for convention. Never again.

  “We don’t need to be married to raise a child.”

  “Oh dear.” Kushi pressed her knuckles against her temples in a familiar gesture of disapproval. “This is not good.”

  “This is very good. A grandchild, Mom. How exciting.” She reached out and clasped Kushi’s hands in hers. “I know you will have a million questions and want me to do this the traditional way. But I’m thirty-seven. I’d given up hope of ever meeting someone I’d love enough to want to marry, let alone procreate with, so this baby is a miracle, considering I have three periods a year and the condom broke once.”

  Embarrassment flushed Kushi’s cheeks, before she slowly nodded. “You are right. This baby is a miracle.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “A grandchild . . .”

  A beatific smile spread across her face. “I’m going to be a grandmother.”

  This time when they embraced, Samira felt safe, cocooned in her mom’s love, knowing that no matter what happened, she had her mom in her corner.

  Thirty-Three

  Rory took it as a good sign that Samira agreed to see him. He’d tried calling her after leaving his dad’s two days ago, but it had gone through to voice mail, so he’d left a message, and while she hadn’t called him back, she’d sent a text asking him to meet her at work on her lunch break today.

  Lucky he’d been called in to meet with his agent yesterday for a rundown on his upcoming trip to north Queensland to scout out the Renegades location, because it took most of the day and kept his mind off dwelling on how much he’d screwed up when she’d told him about the baby.

  Now, as he waited for her in the foyer so they could stroll to a nearby café, with the rattle in his jacket pocket, he hoped to make amends. While he still couldn’t see himself as a father and all that entailed, he needed to do right by her. Starting now.

  The receptionist had left the front desk unattended. Then again, the place was quiet at this time of day. With its sleek ambience and excellent position in town, he expected the center to be busier. But technically, it was a start-up, so it would take time to build clientele. He’d happily sing its praises, considering Pia’s expertise had helped him land the biggest role of his career.

  As if thinking about her conjured her up, he saw Pia slip into the corridor via a side door and glance furtively around. Guess that meant she hadn’t made up with Samira yet, because it looked like she was scanning her surroundings to avoid someone.

  She caught sight of him, and he waved. She hesitated, but it would be rude to avoid him, so she strode down the corridor toward him.

  “Hi, Rory, how are you?”

  “Great, you?”

  As she drew nearer, he had his answer before she spoke. Pia had looked like a supermodel during their sessions, with flawless makeup, glossy hair, and stylish Indian pants and loose flowing top combos. Today, no amount of concealer could hide the dark smudges under her eyes, her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and her skin looked dull rather than glowing.

  “I’m okay.” She managed a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

  “Thanks again for all the work you did with me. I’ll make sure to spread the word among colleagues who need dialect coaching.”

  “Thanks.”

  Rory heard a door open behind him, and by Pia’s startled look, it had to be Samira.

  “I have to get back to work, Rory. Nice seeing you,” she said, turning away and all but breaking into a sprint to escape.

  Man, Samira must really feel like crap if Pia was still avoiding her. He turned, not surprised to see Samira staring at Pia’s rapidly retreating back, sadness clouding her eyes.

  “Hey,” he said, bundling her into his arms before she had a chance to say anything. She looked like she needed a hug, and he still felt shitty about the way he’d reacted to the baby news.

  She melded to him, resting her head on his shoulder and sliding her arms around his waist. He liked the way they fit. It felt . . . right. He’d never felt this comfortable around a woman before. Maybe it had something to do with her maturity, but she didn’t play games like other women he’d dated. Though one or two dates didn’t equate with what he’d shared with Samira. They may not have spent a lot of time together, but it was the quality not quantity that counted.

  And now a baby bound them. Interesting, that every time the thought pinged around his brain, he didn’t feel so stressed anymore.

  He could do this.

  He had no idea how long he held her, and when she finally eased away to blink up at him with wide eyes filled with uncertainty, he wished he could hold her some more.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded. “You give the best hugs.”

  He smiled, placed his finger under her chin, and tipped it up. “And the best kisses.”

  He grazed his lips across hers, once, twice, clamping down on the urge to devour her when what she needed right now was tenderness.

  She sighed against his mouth before snuggling into him again, holding on tight.

  “You feel good,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her hair. “How is it possible that we haven’t known each other long yet it feels like a lifetime?”

  She stiffened for a moment, before straightening to look him in the eye. “Not only are your hugs and kisses pretty damn good, but you know the right thing to say exactly when I need to hear it.”

  “Not always,” he said, with a slight wince. “I’m sorry about how I reacted to the baby news. I was a jerk.”

  She placed a finger against his lips to silence him. “No, you were stunned, and I don’t blame you for asking what I planned on doing.” She bit down on her bottom lip. “Considering the brevity of our relationship, I should’ve expected it. We barely know each other, we live on different continents, I guess it’s only natural.”

  She was letting him off lightly, and they both knew it. “Shall we go have lunch and talk about our baby?”

  Her eyes sparked when he said “our baby,” and he smiled. “I may have been an idio
t when I first heard the news, but I’d like to make amends if you’ll let me.”

  “Let’s go,” she said, slipping her hand into his. But as she fell into step beside him, he saw her cast a longing glance down the corridor toward Pia’s office.

  That was one problem he couldn’t fix, but he hoped these two amazing women resolved their differences soon.

  * * *

  * * *

  It didn’t surprise him that neither of them were hungry and ordered coffees instead.

  They had a lot to talk about.

  “I’ve got something for you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the rattle, which he’d polished to gleaming. “It used to be mine.”

  He placed it on the table between them, where it shone in the café’s muted downlights. “It’s an apology of sorts, because I’m not proud of the way I reacted when I first heard the news.” He nudged it toward her. “I don’t know the history behind the rattle, but it looks ancient, and it’ll be nice for the baby to have something of mine.”

  He wondered if she’d understand the questions he was hedging around: Would she return to Melbourne permanently? Would he have a chance to parent his child?

  Her eyes sparked with understanding. Smart woman. “I haven’t made any decisions regarding where I’ll live after the baby is born.”

  She picked up the rattle and shook it, eliciting a soft tinkle. “And this is beautiful. Thank you.” Heat suffused her cheeks. “It means a lot to have your support.”

  “Not that I’ll be any good for the next few weeks. I’m on location in north Queensland, scouting things out for when filming commences.”

  “That’s fine. I don’t have any tests or anything scheduled, just my first appointment with an ob-gyn.” She hesitated, and he glimpsed uncertainty in her eyes. “Exactly how involved do you want to be? Do you want to come to appointments like that? To ultrasounds? And because of my age I’ll probably need to have an amnio. Then there’s pre-natal classes . . .”

  She huffed out a breath. “I’m exhausted already.”

  He chuckled and reached out to snag her hand. “I’ll be as involved as you want me to be. No pressure. Whatever you want.”

  She nodded, her lips curved in gratitude. “Let’s just play it by ear, okay?”

  Whatever that meant. The enormity of the situation, that he’d be helping support a child with little money and no clue, meant he should be glad she wasn’t pressuring him. But he’d always liked clear-cut guidelines: for refining his speech, for dealing with his father, for everything.

  So he blurted what he’d been contemplating the last few hours before their meeting.

  “We should get married.”

  Her eyebrows rose above wide eyes before she laughed. “Well, that’s just about the most romantic proposal I’ve ever heard.”

  Rueful, he swiped a hand over his face. “We should. It’s the right thing to do for the baby.”

  She leaned over and tapped the side of his head with her finger. “Hey, you in there. This isn’t the fifties. It’s no big deal to have a baby without the parents being married.”

  He grinned and swatted away her finger. “I know, but I grew up without a mom. Wouldn’t it be nice for our kid to have us together?”

  The amusement in her eyes faded, and she slid her hand out from his. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made light of your proposal. That must’ve been hard growing up without her.”

  She didn’t know the half of it. But now wasn’t the time to tell her about his dysfunctional upbringing.

  “It was, but that’s not the only reason I proposed.”

  “Yeah?”

  He nodded. “I like you. We’re good together. Our kid will be lucky to have parents like us.”

  The corners of her mouth curved into the smile that kicked him in the chest every time. “Again, not the most romantic proposal.”

  When he opened his mouth to respond, she held up her hand. “You’re a great guy, but I’ve already got one marriage under my belt. I’m not going to enter into another for the wrong reasons.”

  It made sense, and relief filtered through him. He didn’t want to get hitched, not really. But among the relief, a small sliver of disappointment pierced him.

  Under different circumstances, even if they were madly in love, would someone like her say yes to him?

  The closer they got, the more his flaws would be revealed. His inherent insecurity couldn’t be denied.

  He wasn’t good enough for her.

  “Hey, you okay?” She touched his arm, and he nodded.

  “Yeah. My bruised ego will heal.” He winked. “And I know just the way to soothe it.”

  She laughed, not responding when the waitress deposited their coffees on the table, waiting until she’d walked away.

  “As much as I’d love to spend the afternoon in bed with you, I have to get back to work.”

  She tipped a sugar into her coffee and stirred it, staring at the swirling spoon as if hypnotized, but not before he saw the concern return to her eyes. She was thinking about Pia.

  “So you haven’t sorted things out with your cousin yet?”

  She shook her head as she raised her gaze to his. “I’m going to catch up with her after work tonight.”

  “Does she know this?”

  “No, but it’s been long enough. We need to get past this, and I’m taking over the management next week while she’s away, so we have to at least talk before then.”

  “If there’s anything I can do . . .” He sipped at his coffee, wishing he didn’t feel so out of his depth around her.

  Samira never brought up the age difference between them, and it didn’t register with him, but at times like this, he wished he had more experience with women so he knew what to do to make things easier for her.

  He cared about her. Seriously. And even if there wasn’t a baby involved, he knew that the longer they dated and the closer her time came to return to LA, the harder it would’ve been to say goodbye.

  “Thanks, but this is something I have to do,” she said, placing the spoon on the saucer but making no move to pick up her coffee. “Want to catch up at my place tonight?” She grimaced. “Though if things go badly with Pia, I can’t promise I’ll be good company.”

  “Maybe I can cheer you up?” He trailed a fingertip down her bare forearm. “I’ve been told I’m very good at it.”

  “You are,” she murmured, eyeballing him. “Just for the record, pregnant women have very high libidos.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “It is, one I can prove to you tonight.”

  He grinned, loving how they could switch from earnest to lighthearted so easily. He’d never had a serious relationship, and he’d never imagined it could be like this. Being with Samira was . . . easy. Maybe that was an age thing too; she was mature and self-confident and didn’t feel the need to play games.

  She would be a good mom.

  “Hey, I’ve just realized something,” he said.

  “What?”

  “We’ve never been on a real date.”

  “Sure we have. That day we spent together in Dandenong.” She pressed a hand to her heart and pretended to swoon. “Our first date. How could I forget?”

  He chuckled at her theatrics. “I was thinking along the lines of something classier, more elegant.”

  She smiled. “I don’t need all the bells and whistles. I just like spending time with you.”

  “Yeah, but I’m going away for a few weeks. I think it would be nice for us to go out tonight.”

  Joy sparked her eyes. “You’re a romantic. How quaint.”

  Embarrassment heated his cheeks. “I’m about the least romantic guy ever, but you’re special, and I want to do this.”

  A soft smile curved her lips. “It’s a date.”

  Thirty
-Four

  Having coffee with Rory at lunchtime had left Samira feeling warm and fuzzy all afternoon. Ironic, that she’d never date a guy ten years younger, usually, but Rory far surpassed her expectations in the maturity stakes.

  His proposal had been cute and reeked of old-fashioned chivalry, and while she’d never seriously take him up on it, it had been nice for him to ask. He wanted to be a part of this baby’s life, and that meant a lot.

  When she’d fled Melbourne over a decade ago, she never contemplated moving back. She’d established a great life in LA and loved living there. But the moment she’d discovered she was pregnant, she’d known she’d be facing some tough decisions about her living situation. And now with Rory wanting to be a part of their child’s life if she wanted him to be . . . and with her mom here . . . it made sense that she seriously consider moving back home.

  Hopefully, she’d have Pia’s support too, and she was about to take the first steps to mending their fractured relationship.

  Pia couldn’t resist rocky road, so Samira had ducked out to Haigh’s to purchase their delicious chocolate/marshmallow/nutty combo. They’d rarely argued as kids, but if they had a disagreement, Samira always softened up her cousin with chocolate.

  With the last patient gone and the receptionist locking the front door after exiting, Samira headed for Pia’s office, rocky road in hand. Pia had been avoiding her, coming in late, leaving early, and booked solid with patients when she was here. The fact she hadn’t left yet—Samira had checked with the receptionist—gave her hope that she may be ready to talk.

  She stood outside Pia’s door, steeling herself, when it opened and she came face-to-face with her startled cousin.

  “Thought you might be hungry after a busy day,” she said, holding out the rocky road.

  Pia’s eyes lit up as she spied her favorite chocolate, but the light soon faded when she glanced at Samira’s stomach.

  “You can’t avoid me forever, Cuz,” Samira said, hating this awkwardness between them. “We need to talk.”