0373659490 (R)

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0373659490 (R) Page 8

by Michelle Major


  “You told Amanda you had plans.”

  “I do.” He held out a hand. “With you.”

  “I haven’t said yes. Maybe I already have a lunch date.”

  “Say yes, Alice.”

  She sucked in a breath and opened her mouth to refuse him. If she was going to have any chance of surviving the next eighteen years of her son’s life, she had to set boundaries with Charles that wouldn’t end with her heart being broken.

  But he looked so hopeful waiting for her answer, as if he really wanted to be with her and not Amanda or Meredith or any other of his usual bevy of beautiful women. And despite what she tried to tell herself, Alice wanted to be with Charles more than was smart or safe.

  She’d spent most of her life being prudent. The one time she hadn’t been, she’d ended up pregnant. But Flynn was the best thing that had happened to her, so maybe a bit of recklessness thrown into the mix wasn’t so bad.

  “We can’t be seen walking out of the office together,” she told him. “It would seem weird to everyone.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “Because men like you don’t take women like me to lunch.”

  “This man does.”

  Her heart hammered in her chest. “Do you like Indian food?”

  “I’m British,” he said, as if that was an answer.

  “What does that mean?”

  “A real curry is almost as popular as fish and chips in London.” He grinned again. “Yes, I like Indian.”

  “Good, because no one but me in this office does. There’s a restaurant called Indian Palace around the corner from the building. You can order for both of us, and I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.”

  His smile widened. “Cloak and dagger. I like it.”

  “Charles, be serious. You know we can’t be seen together.”

  He nodded, but the smile remained. “If you really want privacy, my hotel is only a few blocks away.”

  “No hotel,” she said, her voice coming out a squeak.

  He laughed. “I’ll see you in a bit, Alice.” He stepped into her space before she could protest, traced his lips against her ear. “You really were brilliant today, love.”

  Alice’s whole body heated and she grabbed hold of a chair to steady herself as she watched him disappear out of the conference room.

  So much for guarding her heart against the sexy Brit.

  * * *

  Fatherhood was making him crazy. There was no other way for Charles to explain his actions today. He’d promised his siblings he had no intention of bedding Alice again, and he’d meant the words when he’d said them.

  Then he’d proceeded to race back to Austin from Horseback Hollow with the hopes of spending more time with her. With Flynn, he corrected himself. He wanted to see his son. That was true, but not the whole truth. He’d missed both the boy and Alice during his short trip north to Horseback Hollow. The fact that Alice hadn’t welcomed him back with open arms both irritated and intrigued him.

  Women never avoided Charles. Never. Her reluctance to see him had made him only more intent on being with her. He’d tried to rationalize that he wanted to keep a friendly relationship with Alice for the sake of their baby, but that was ridiculous. He’d felt desperate to check in with her, to make sure he hadn’t done something to cock up their tenuous bond.

  Or maybe he just imagined a connection between them. Perhaps Alice wanted space to give him the subtle message that their relationship was simply two unattached parents working to raise their child. But he couldn’t have forced himself to stay away from her even if he’d tried. From the moment she’d walked into that conference room, the anxious buzzing in his head had quieted and he’d felt an emotion strangely akin to contentment settle over him.

  It had been impulsive to make a play for her at the tourism board office. He knew it was imperative they keep their ties to each other private, yet Charles couldn’t resist the opportunity to see her, and working together would provide the most innocuous cover for doing so.

  She walked into the restaurant at that moment, and all his doubts disappeared. She was as stunning in her business suit as she had been dressed for her role as mom, and Charles realized that he wanted to know more about every aspect of her life. Thanks to his famous family, his life was an open book. Now he wanted details about Alice and what made her tick.

  He stood as she approached the booth he’d chosen in the far corner of the restaurant. A small smile played at the corner of her mouth, and he had the almost irresistible urge to brush his lips against hers again. But this wasn’t her apartment or his hotel room, and while the half-empty restaurant appeared safe, he had to be careful whenever they were out together.

  “Tell me about you,” he said as she scooted into the booth across from him.

  She seemed to stiffen under his regard. “There’s not much to tell. Not everyone can be a jet-setting playboy.”

  He waved away the comment. “Old and boring news.”

  “No one thinks you’re boring, Charles,” she answered with a laugh. “Especially not women.”

  “There’s only one woman I’m interested in, Alice.”

  She took a long sip of water. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

  “It’s true.”

  She considered him for a moment. “I’m an Austin native. My father teaches American history at UT and my mom worked part-time as a teaching assistant at my elementary school.”

  “What were you like as a girl?” He leaned closer. “How will Flynn take after his mum?”

  “He won’t, I hope.”

  “You don’t mean that. You’re lovely, Alice. He’d be lucky to inherit your sweetness, not to mention your intelligence. Everyone on the board was blown away by you today.”

  She bit down on her lip as if his compliments made her uneasy. He started to ask her why, but the waiter brought the food.

  “Chicken tikka masala, saag paneer and vindaloo,” he said, placing the steaming dishes on the table. The young Indian waiter turned to the busboy who’d followed him to the table. “We also have basmati rice and naan for you to enjoy today.”

  “Thank you,” Charles told the two men. “It looks delicious.”

  Alice’s features relaxed as she looked at the food. “No one else I know likes Indian,” she said, rubbing her palms together. “Sometimes I get it as takeout, but this is so much better.”

  Charles spooned a portion of each dish onto their plates and watched Alice take her first bite. Her eyes drifted closed, as if to better help her savor the taste, and she gave a soft moan.

  “It’s so good,” she said with a sigh, her cheeks flushing when she opened her eyes to find him staring at her. “Silly to have that reaction to food, I know.” She dabbed a napkin at the corner of her mouth.

  “It’s charming.” Charles tore off a piece of naan, the bread warm between his fingers. “There is an amazing Indian place a couple of blocks from my flat in London. This is good...” He dipped the naan into the deep orange-red masala sauce. “But that restaurant takes it to a whole new level. We’ll go there one day.”

  Her eyes widened, and the fork she held dropped to the table with a clatter.

  “No pressure, Alice,” he said quickly. “I know you want to take things slow.”

  She picked up the fork again and gave him a sheepish smile. “I don’t even have a passport.”

  “You’ve never traveled abroad?”

  “I’ve barely been out of Texas. My family went to California for a week when I was a girl because my dad had a conference there. And my grandparents retired to southern Colorado, so we’d drive to their cabin every summer. Otherwise...” She shrugged, as if apologizing. “You must think I’m a total country bumpkin. You’re sophisticated and have traveled all over the world. I’ve been nowhere.”

  “You may live in Texas,” Charles told her, reaching for her free hand, “but your taste in shoes definitely makes you more than a country girl.”

  She
laughed at that and it made him enormously glad to be the man to put a smile on her face. “I do own cowboy boots,” she told him.

  “I can’t wait to see them. Knowing you, they’re something special.” He laced her fingers with his. “I don’t care that you haven’t traveled.” It was strangely appealing to think that he might be the one to introduce her to some of his favorite international destinations. Charles traveled so much for his work with the British Tourism Council, he’d become jaded, his senses dulled to the exotic locations and cosmopolitan cities. He wanted to see the world through Alice’s eyes. “Where you’ve been doesn’t matter to me. It’s where we’re going that counts.”

  “With Flynn,” she said quickly, pulling her hand away.

  “Of course,” Charles agreed, tamping down the niggling sense of disappointment that curled through his gut. Alice was a fantastic mother, and he should be glad that their son was her first priority. Charles was, but it didn’t stop him from wanting more. “When can I see him again?”

  “He’s usually tired and a little cranky in the evenings at the end of the workweek.” She smiled. “Both of us are.”

  “I’ll take tired and cranky,” Charles told her. “From both of you.”

  She studied him for a moment, as if trying to determine if he really meant that. “I don’t want to take him out tonight, but you could come over for dinner. Or stop by later if you have other plans.”

  “No other plans, and I’d love to come for dinner. I’ll pick up a pizza. Everyone in America likes pizza, right?”

  She laughed at that. “Not everyone, but most of us. A pizza would be great. Thank you.”

  “Two dates in one day.” Charles saluted her with his water glass. “I’m a very lucky bloke.”

  Chapter Eight

  Alice had just slipped into a pair of loose yoga pants when the doorbell rang. She glanced in the mirror and immediately regretted her decision to change from her suit into more comfortable clothes. At least dressed for work, she looked a bit put together. In her T-shirt and sweatpants she was the quintessential exhausted new mom. That couldn’t be appealing to someone like Charles.

  She pulled out the elastic band that held back her hair, letting her blond waves curl against her cheeks. Her hair might be a mess, but at least it falling in her face might camouflage her wan complexion.

  The doorbell buzzed again, and she lifted Flynn from where he lay on her bed and went to answer it.

  Unlike Alice, Charles looked totally put together, even in his casual jeans and T-shirt.

  “Delivery,” he said, holding up the cardboard pizza box.

  She laughed and stepped back to let him into her apartment. “If all delivery guys looked like you, every single woman in America would be eating pizza seven nights a week.”

  “You have it all wrong, love. Tonight I’m a ubiquitous Austin pizza guy,” he told her in an over-the-top American accent. “I like blending in.” He leaned forward to press a gentle kiss on Flynn’s forehead. “Hullo there, my wee man.”

  Alice caught a whiff of Charles’s shampoo over the tangy scent of the pizza and bit back a groan. Inviting him to dinner had seemed like a good idea a few hours ago, but now she remembered why she’d insisted on spending time with him in public locations. Even as exhausted as she was, Charles made her body hum to life. The soft cotton T-shirt stretched across the muscles of his back and the jeans fit him in a way that made her mouth water.

  “Shall I hold him?” he asked, setting the box on her coffee table.

  Alice blinked, trying to gain control of her raging need. She wanted to beg Charles to hold her, wanted to press against all that strength and forget about her exhaustion and stress. She wanted to lose herself, and the unwanted thought that she was already losing her heart washed over her, an icy dose of reality.

  “Sure,” she said, careful not to let herself touch Charles as she deposited the baby in his arms. “I’ll get plates. Would you like a beer or glass of wine?”

  “Beer, please.”

  Charles balanced the baby in his arms, and Flynn rubbed at his eyes, letting out a tired cry.

  “I’m sorry,” Alice said automatically. “I know you probably don’t want to deal with him fussy.”

  “I’m his father,” Charles said, quirking a thick brow. “I’d venture to guess this isn’t the worst I’m going to have to handle in the next few years.”

  Years. Alice gripped the pizza box tight in her hands. She’d have years to wallow in her unrequited lust for Charles. The only positive she could see was she’d save tons of money on hot water as she imagined many cold showers in her future.

  She set two plates and napkins on the small table in her dining area, then grabbed a couple bottles of locally brewed beer from the refrigerator. “I can take him while you eat,” she told Charles, opening the box he’d brought. The pizza was covered with fresh mozzarella, basil and tomatoes. Her stomach growled in response.

  Charles chuckled. “I’ll hold him while you eat.” He bounced Flynn gently and the baby let out another cry, but slowly settled into the crook of Charles’s arm with a yawn.

  “He needs his last bottle before he falls asleep.”

  “I think I can manage a bottle.”

  “I’ll make it,” Alice offered, but Charles shook his head. “Tell me what to do.”

  She thought about arguing. Alice was so used to doing everything on her own that it was hard to delegate tasks related to Flynn.

  “Alice, let me help.” Charles’s voice was low and coaxing.

  She felt ridiculous tears prick the back of her eyes. She wanted to, but was afraid to depend on him, then be left on her own again. It was irrational and probably a result of being so tired. Sometimes she felt that if she actually stopped moving, working, struggling—even for a few minutes—she’d crumple under the weight of her life and never surface again.

  But Charles was Flynn’s father, and she’d sought him out. She owed him a chance to be a real part of her baby’s life.

  “There’s a machine in the corner of the counter. Take a bottle from the cabinet above and put it under the spout like a coffeemaker. Hit the red button and the formula and heated water will mix. Just make sure you screw the cap on tight before feeding him.” She smiled. “I made that mistake once and ended up with formula all over both of us.”

  “Got it.” Charles held out a chair. “Sit down, Alice. Enjoy a beer and a slice of pizza. I’ll take care of Flynn.” He winked at her. “You can supervise.”

  “Supervise,” she murmured, dropping into the chair. “I’ll work on that.” She bit into a piece of pizza, amazed at how much better it tasted when she could actually take a moment to enjoy it. These days she scarfed down most of her meals while caring for Flynn, or at her desk at lunch so she wouldn’t be late picking him up from the sitter’s. Two meals in one day with Charles, and she’d felt pampered at both of them. It was embarrassing how easily she could get used to the sensation.

  “This is like an espresso machine for formula,” Charles said as the machine whirred.

  “It was a splurge,” Alice admitted. “I used some of the gift cards I’d gotten for his shower. With his nighttime sleeping patterns, it’s made things much easier.”

  “I’m all for easier,” Charles said as he balanced Flynn in one arm and tightened the cap. He sat in the chair across from her and tipped the bottle into Flynn’s mouth. The baby’s eyes drifted closed even as he gulped down the formula. “It’s like he’s asleep but still eating.” Charles smiled at Flynn. “An impressive lad, indeed.”

  “I’m going to start him on cereal this weekend,” Alice said, taking a sip of beer. “If you want to be here...”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Alice watched the two most important men in her life for a few minutes. There was a quiet intimacy to the three of them sitting in her small apartment, Flynn’s contented gurgling as he ate the only sound. She wished it could be like this all the time, then mentally kicked herself for e
ntertaining the thought. They weren’t a family, and pretending they were would only lead to heartbreak. “I can take him now, if you want pizza before it gets cold.”

  “I’m fine,” Charles told her, still looking at Flynn. “I can’t get over having a mini me running around in the world.”

  “Being carried and pushed by stroller through the world, you mean.”

  “He’ll be running soon enough.” Charles shot Alice an apologetic glance. “If Flynn is anything like me, he’ll keep you on your toes. My mum was constantly having to bail me out of scrapes and misadventures when I was a boy. She said I had enough energy for twins.”

  “Good to know.” Alice huffed out a laugh and took another drink of beer. “I bet you got away with a ton because you were too cute to stay mad at for long.”

  Charles grinned. “It still works that way.”

  Flynn had finished the bottle and was now dozing in Charles’s arms. Lucky baby. “I’m stuffed.” Alice stood and placed her plate in the sink. “I’ll change him and put him down for the night.” She took the baby from Charles. “Thank you for the help and for dinner.”

  “My pleasure on both counts.”

  She put Flynn into a fresh diaper and his pajamas and then settled him in his crib. He snuggled against the soft sheet with a sleepy sigh. Alice stifled a yawn. Flynn always went down without a fuss, although staying asleep for the night was a bigger challenge.

  By the time she returned to the kitchen, Charles had loaded the dishwasher, put the leftover pizza in the refrigerator and was wiping the table.

  “Are you always this perfect?” she asked, leaning against the door frame.

  “Hardly ever,” he said with a grin. “You seem to bring out the best in me.” He hung the dishrag over the faucet and turned.

  They watched each other for several moments, awareness ricocheting through the small space. Charles crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles of his arms bunching in a way that made Alice want to...

  Nope. Not going there.

  “I should probably go,” he said, but didn’t make a move to leave.

  “Do you want to watch a movie?”

 

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