Laurel plopped onto the couch, sank back, and kicked off her shoes. Thankful to be free of the pumps, she wiggled her toes. “How was your evening?”
“Uneventful.” He handed her a stack of gift-wrapped presents. “These are for you.”
“For me?” Surprised and touched, she stared at the packages. “I…”
“Open them.”
Excitement surged. Laurel hadn’t opened anything new since her wedding night when she’d received a snow globe from Brett. She unwrapped the first gift. “Baby Names for a Happy Child.”
“I thought you might want to start thinking about names. There’s an eBook version if you prefer to read on your cell phone or tablet.”
“I like print books for nonfiction. Thank you.” Smiling, she opened the next gift. A second name book. She unwrapped the third and the fourth. More baby name books. “Oh, Brett. This is so sweet. You don’t know how much these books mean to me, but one would have been enough.”
“One book is never enough.”
She laughed. “Words to remember.”
“Words to live by.”
Laurel clutched one of the books against her chest. “I’ve been going through this pregnancy alone. No one cares….”
“I care.” Compassion shone in Brett’s eyes, and a warm glow flowed through her. “I’m not looking to be a figurehead, Laurel. I want to be a real father. Not only when the baby’s born, but also during the pregnancy. Like you said, there’s a life growing inside you, and I helped make that child.”
For the first time in months, between her new work friends and Brett, she didn’t feel so alone. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she managed a smile. “I see that.”
And she did.
He cared, and she was grateful for that. Laurel wanted someone to share the wonders of her pregnancy with. Now she knew where to start.
“There’s something I wanted to ask you. It’s, uh, time for my monthly OB visit. I made an appointment today with a doctor Sarah recommended. I was wondering if you wanted to…” Feeling oddly nervous, Laurel stared at the floor. “Never mind, you’re probably busy on Monday and—”
“You’d let me go?” The words rushed out.
His tone made her jerk her head up, and she scrutinized his expression. His face appeared hopeful. But he also looked wary, as if he were afraid to be disappointed. It made her feel oddly off balance, and her voice was barely above a whisper when she said, “If you wanted…”
“I do,” he said without missing a beat. “What time on Monday?”
“Two o’clock, but if that isn’t okay with you—”
“I’ll rearrange my schedule.”
“Really?”
Brett nodded.
“Great.” It might be slightly terrifying to let him in, but she would try for the baby’s sake. They might as well also work on how they would handle co-parenting. She handed him one of the baby name books. “Start reading, Daddy.”
His eyes widened. “Daddy?”
“Like you said, it’s your baby, too.”
He grinned.
As she skimmed through her book, he opened another and read. Several minutes later, she felt his gaze on her.
“What do you think of Emma?” Brett asked.
“It’s pretty.” Laurel flipped to the popularity chart in her book. “But the name’s been in the top ten for many years.”
“Forget that one. Maybe we should start a list.”
Was he going to be picky about names? She imagined he might. “Okay, but we have time.”
That didn’t seem to deter him. “What about Amelia?”
“That’s a nice name.”
“I think so, too.” He went back to his book.
Seeing him concentrate so intensely as he read gave her a warm and fuzzy feeling. They might not be a traditional family, but the baby would have two parents who cared, which was more than she’d had growing up. “Were your parents close?”
Taking his attention off the book, he cocked his head. “Why do you ask?”
“I’d like to know more about you and your family.”
“My mom’s the greatest. She’s the one who taught me how to throw a curveball and kick a field goal. She’s also an ace at geometry. When I was growing up, she had to work insane hours to support us, but she was always there when I needed her.”
Brett’s loving tone and soft gaze told Laurel how much his mother meant to him. She imagined he’d be the same with the baby. “And your father?”
“Never knew him. I don’t know what he did, what he looked like, or where he was from.” Brett shrugged, but the way his mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed suggested he wasn’t indifferent. “He ran out on my mother when she was pregnant with me. She never mentioned him. It was just my mom and me.”
“I’m sorry, Brett. I had no idea.” No wonder being a good father was so important to him. Laurel touched his shoulder. “Thank you for telling me.”
“There’s something else you don’t know.” Brett hesitated, and Laurel waited patiently.
“My mother was the Davenports’ housekeeper.” He sounded defensive. “We lived in an apartment above their garage until I graduated from college.”
It took a minute for what he said to register in Laurel’s brain. When the words did, she stared, feeling as if she were seeing him for the first time. Hearing this explained a lot about Brett. “When Henry said the two of you grew up together, he meant it.”
“I’ve known Henry for as long as I remember, but I was never part of his ‘squad.’ Just the housekeeper’s illegitimate son.”
“You’re so much more than that.” Laurel was more impressed with how Brett had made something of himself. “You’re an incredible man, Brett Matthews. You should be proud of yourself. I am.”
He slanted her a glance. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you’ve come so far,” she said. “You weren’t handed a trust fund and set loose in the world with no responsibilities or expectations. You pulled yourself up—worked to make something of yourself. On your own. That counts for a lot.”
“But not enough for you to marry me.”
Her mouth dropped open, but she understood why he hadn’t been nice to her. “Is that why you thought I said no?”
“Old money and new money don’t mix.”
“I have no money.” She grinned, hoping to lighten his serious mood. “I don’t care about your past.”
His lips tightened. “Would you say that if you hadn’t lost all your money?”
“I can’t answer that.” Though she wished with every fiber of her being she could. “I do know I’m not the same person I used to be, and that’s a good thing. I’m not sure I liked that woman.”
His surprised gaze met hers. “Then why did you say no to my proposal?”
If they were going to move forward with this child, they had to be open and honest with each other. “I want to be like you.”
“Like me?”
The puzzlement in his eyes was cute. He didn’t get it, but that was okay. She was eager to share a sliver of her dream with him after he’d shared a bit of his past. “You went against the odds, and you made it on your own. You showed the world that nothing was beyond your reach. I want to do that, too.”
“You can do that and still be married to me.”
“I can’t,” she said. “Not after what happened with my parents. I want to be a person my child can be proud of and look up to. The way you do with your mother. I need to make it on my own. Do you understand?”
“I think so, but do you know how badly I want our child to have a family?”
“I do,” she admitted. “But there are no guarantees a family will be together forever. Me and my parents are a prime example.”
“But the alternative… Growing up without a father is not an easy thing.” Emotion filled his voice. “My mom did the best she could, but she struggled, trying to balance work with being a parent.”
“Times have changed.”
“Not that much,” he said. “Talk to Sarah if you want to know what it’s like to be a single parent today.”
Laurel wasn’t living in a dream world. “Sarah told me about the difficulties she’s faced.”
His eyes filled with worry. “I don’t want that for my child. Or for you.”
“I appreciate the concern, but I can do it.”
“I don’t want you to have to ‘do it.’” His words took on a gravelly edge. “I don’t want our baby to go through what I went through growing up.”
The pain in his voice pierced her heart. “Was it that bad?”
He nodded. “Do you know what it’s like to grow up envying your closest friend? Henry Davenport had the greatest dad in the entire world. I would sit and watch them. They were always doing something together—golfing, reading, playing. I was so jealous. I thought if only my father had stuck around, I could have had all that Henry did.”
Everything was becoming clearer. Too bad Brett couldn’t see what she did—he would be the kind of father he wished he’d had whether she married him or not. She wanted to touch his face. Soften the tense set of his jaw. But she couldn’t. They didn’t have that kind of relationship.
“Oh, Brett. I wish things had been different for you.”
“I don’t want my child to feel the way I…” He cleared his throat. “It’s important to me to be able to give my baby everything I can.”
“That’s wonderful as long as you remember what’s most important.”
“What?”
She pointed to her heart. “Love.”
“Love doesn’t put food on the table or a roof over your head.”
“True, but children don’t think about those things. At least I never did,” she admitted. “You might not have had everything Henry had, but did you ever question your mother’s love?”
“Not once,” Brett said without the slightest hesitation.
“Then you were rich in the truest sense of the word.” As Laurel shifted on the couch, her book tumbled from her lap. She reached for it at the same time as Brett. Their hands touched. Their faces were mere inches apart.
When he glanced up, some of his hair brushed her cheek. “You believe that, don’t you?”
“I do.” Her voice sounded hoarse. He smelled so good. A mix of soap and something she couldn’t define as anything other than male. The scent made her want to take a deep breath and never exhale.
She convinced her brain to move her hand away from his.
He gave the book back to her. His warm breath caressed her neck.
Laurel could barely think, let alone speak.
She expected him to back away, to retreat to his corner of the couch, to do anything but remain where he was. Yet he stayed as if spellbound. Not that she was doing better herself.
“Laurel?” His whisper was unsure, a way she hadn’t heard him sound before.
She wet her lips and then parted them. An invitation? She wasn’t sure of anything.
Brett lowered his mouth to hers. As their lips met, an electric shock jolted her.
Jackpot.
Seven-seven-seven.
Bells whistled, lights flashed, and the slot machine bucket filled with silver dollars.
She opened her mouth farther, wanting to soak up the taste that was uniquely his. The texture, the heat…
His lips explored, ravished, tortured. Talk about heaven.
His hands splayed across her back, pulling her toward him, and she was helpless. She wanted to be closer, much closer, and inched toward him until she was practically on his lap. He felt so good, so warm, and so very strong.
His arms offered a sense of security she hadn’t felt since their night in Reno. The security she wanted to pretend she didn’t need. And she didn’t want it to stop.
She wanted one last taste, one last feel of him. Kissing Brett made her feel so carefree. A way Laurel had forgotten to feel.
She wanted him.
She wanted the magic they’d shared in Reno.
She wanted her feelings to be real.
The last piece of reality abandoned her, but he pulled away, leaving her aching for his lips against hers again.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his breathing ragged, eyes stormy. “I don’t want you to think I’m putting the moves on you, but there’s still some sort of chemistry between us.”
Understatement of the year.
Not trusting her voice, she nodded, trying to catch her breath.
“If you and I…we…” He inhaled deeply. “If we were married—”
“But we’re not, and we never will be.” Laurel said the words, but they didn’t come out as forcefully as she hoped.
His nostrils flared.
Confusion washed over her. Brett made her feel sexy, alive, and safe. Was that her attraction to him? It couldn’t be anything real. They barely knew each other. He didn’t love her. And she didn’t love him.
Brett stacked books on the table. They must have fallen during the kiss. She hadn’t noticed. Honestly, she wouldn’t have noticed if the walls collapsed.
Brett was too attractive. That made him dangerous.
She had to keep her distance. “We shouldn’t kiss again.”
“All right.” He drew his lips into a thin line. “We’ll go to bed.”
Bed? With her? Her pulse accelerated, her body betraying her mind and logic. “Excuse me?”
“You had a long day and need sleep.”
What she needed was a cold shower, not sleep.
“Don’t forget,” he reminded. “Tomorrow we’re looking at apartments.”
Laurel hoped she found one. The sooner she got away from Brett Matthews, the better.
♥ ♥ ♥
On Sunday afternoon, Brett sat in the breakfast nook with Laurel, who searched the rental listings on his tablet. A day and a half of driving around this weekend to see apartments near public transportation had discouraged her. He’d hoped that would happen; he’d wanted to show Laurel that life with him was the best choice.
So why did he feel like such a creep? Like he was trading on insider information?
Her long, drawn-out sigh of frustration matched the expression on her face. “I can’t believe those are the only apartments I can afford. A dingy studio with a fire-hazard kitchenette in an unsafe area? Staying in a four-star hotel used to mean roughing it. I had no understanding of the true definition until today.”
That summed up what he’d shown her. He’d skipped the better parts of town she could afford for her own good. “Rent in Portland is expensive.”
She frowned. “There has to be something…a way to make this work. Other people do it, but how? What am I not getting?”
Play it cool. He was about to close his position and lock in his profit. Yet… “If you make a budget and save your money, you’ll be able to afford a better place.”
The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. Never mind the conflict of interest. Or that he wasn’t furthering his own cause.
She gave a dejected laugh. “I don’t know how to do anything with money except spend it. Budget was a four-letter word in my family. I’ve never made one.”
“It’s not that difficult.”
What was he doing? He pressed his lips together.
Her wide, innocent-looking eyes settled on him. “You wrote a book about investing. You must know this stuff.”
The glimmer of hope in her gaze slayed him. “Well, I…”
“Oh, Brett, I don’t think I could stand if I lost everything I had again or had to live in one of those rundown, smelly apartments. Okay, it’s better than being homeless, but…” She placed her right palm over her heart. “I need to learn how to deal with my finances. Would you help me make a budget and teach me how to manage my money—what little I have, that is—so I could save enough to afford a decent apartment?”
Good going, Matthews. The idea is to get her to stay, not help her leave, in case you’d forgotten.
“Ple
ase?” Her face held such optimism and promise.
If he didn’t, she had nowhere else to turn. She was totally dependent on him whether she recognized that or not.
The truth smashed into him with the force of an eighteen-wheeler. He wanted to create a family with Laurel—one their child could count on through the years. A family she wanted as much as he did. His plan might be working, but he didn’t want her to settle for him out of sheer desperation. Forcing Laurel to bend to his will because she had no other choice was wrong. He wanted her to choose him, of her own free will, because he was her best choice. The only way she could make a choice—any choice—was from a position of strength. He had to help her get there.
Which meant he had to teach Laurel to manage her money so she could succeed on her own. The only question was how?
Stupid. The answer was all around him.
His house.
Laurel could turn his house into a home. A home she would want to live in.
“I have an idea.” Brett hoped he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life, but his first plan to trap her couldn’t continue unless he wanted to be a jerk and treat her unfairly. He needed to find a better way—the right way—for Laurel to choose him. “I’ll help you with a budget if you help me decorate my house.”
“You mean a trade?”
“Exactly. Modern-day bartering.”
“Well, I decorated my father’s pied-a-terre.” Her eyes brightened. “He received lots of compliments.” She bit her lower lip. “You’d really trade with me?”
“I’ve got something you want, and you…” She had a lot he wanted. “You could stay here—”
“I’ll pay rent.”
“Your task is bigger than mine, so I’ll give you room and board to make the deal a fair exchange. That way, you can save money for an apartment, and I get a house I can entertain in. A win-win.”
“You’ll answers my questions on the decorating, right? Tell me the styles and colors you prefer? Give your opinion?”
“I will.”
“And you only want me to decorate the house?” A hint of wariness sounded in her voice. “Nothing more?”
The Wedding Lullaby Page 8