“Hi, honey. I’m home,” she teased.
The words sent the blood rushing in the opposite direction of his brain.
“Sorry I’m late. I stopped by my apartment to get a few things,” she said, hiking a duffle bag over her shoulder. “You gonna let me in?”
“Mi casa es su casa,” he replied, stepping out of her way.
“I hope you mean that because I’m starving.”
“Then by all means let’s feed you.” He couldn’t help watching her as she stepped past him, the floral notes of her perfume drifting in the air.
Maybe I’m starving, too.
Except his hunger wouldn’t be satisfied with food.
She dropped her bag in the entrance hall and made a beeline for the kitchen. He didn’t miss the uncertain look she tossed his way when the island came into view before he headed for the fridge.
Ignore it. Make smart decisions. What would Clara do?
Not twirl him up against a wall that was for sure.
Though I wouldn’t say no if she tried.
Mentally, he shook his head.
“There’s some hamburger in there,” he said, his voice gruffer than it should be.
“Excellent. Want one?”
“Sure.” He lay Hunter down in the playpen Emily had set up in the corner. Every room in the house was now equipped with one.
Sometimes a black card comes in handy.
He switched on the mobile above it and, after making sure Hunter was settled, returned to Clara’s side.
“Go sit down,” he said to her. “I can whip this up.”
“You’re the one who’s been cooped up with a baby all day,” she replied. “Besides, I’m a better cook than you are.”
“Says the woman who once made me eat a plate of uncooked spaghetti.”
“It wasn’t that awful.”
“It crunched.”
“I told you this place needed a chef, but did you listen? No.”
“I work all hours of the night. Executive chefs aren’t available at 3:00 a.m. when all I want is a Hot Pocket.”
“Then you have to make do with crunchy spaghetti and oversalted hamburgers,” she said while liberally sprinkling seasoning onto the ground meat.
“I’ll survive.” He eyed the meat. “Probably.”
She flicked a pinch of salt at him.
“Bad luck to drop salt.”
“Really? What else do you think can possibly happen to me this week?”
“Fair point.” Pushing off the side of the counter he gathered the plates and cutlery they’d need. “I like mine—”
“Rare. I know.” She slipped the patties into the pan.
Standing behind her, he folded his arms and watched her work. Though he teased her, she wasn’t a terrible cook, which she proved by moving expertly around his kitchen as if she owned the place.
It’s nice, having her here.
More than nice. He’d never longed for companionship, preferring his own space, but with Clara, he didn’t mind having her in his home.
Why is that? If any other woman tried to reach for what Clara sees as her right, I’d show them the door.
But not Clara. Never her.
She glanced over her shoulder and froze.
“What?” she demanded.
He cocked his head to the side. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Just thinking,” he replied. “Nothing more sinister than that.”
Though he’d go to the grave rather than admit while he liked seeing her in his kitchen, he’d prefer seeing her in his bedroom even more.
…
A shiver ran down her spine. Just thinking.
About what exactly?
Because there was a look in his eyes that made her suspect his thoughts weren’t focused on food.
Doesn’t mean he’s not hungry…
Mentally, she shook her head. Bad Clara. Don’t go down that road.
It was just Diane’s talk that was getting to her. Making her wonder about things that were better left alone.
“Wanna get the condiments?” she asked, turning back to the stove.
She heard him moving around behind her and did her best to concentrate on cooking the burgers. But that didn’t stop the hair on the back of her neck from rising when he brushed past her almost close enough to touch.
“How are they coming?” Walker asked, his warm breath tickling the skin of her neck as he leaned over her shoulder to inspect the frying pan.
Without thought, she turned toward the sound and found herself once again tantalizingly close to his mouth.
Inhaling sharply, she raised her gaze to his only to find him watching her with equal intensity.
Her mind blanked as she stared at him. His body pressed lightly against her back, and while there was nothing particularly small about her, next to Walker she felt vulnerable in a way she never had with anyone else.
“Burning.”
“What?” she asked, her gaze dropping to his lips. What would they taste like if she just leaned over the tiniest bit?
“The meat is burning.”
Jumping, she saw he was right. Smoke was slowly rising from the sizzling pan. “Hell,” she swore, flipping the burgers over to expose the charred underside. “This might be another meal for the storybooks.”
“We’ll just call it added flavor.” He handed her a plate to put the food on and stepped back.
“But—” She stopped herself before the question could escape her.
His head whipped back to her. “But what?”
But what is happening between us? But why do I want to kiss you?
A little forced proximity and all her good intentions went out the window.
“Nothing,” she said, forcing a smile. “I’m just going to grab a drink.”
The intensity in his gaze banked. “Sure.”
Getting a glass of water, she returned to the island and slid into the chair beside him. Usually their meals were filled with cheerful banter or companionable silence. This one was neither.
The food tasted like ash on her tongue. She was acutely aware of the man beside her even in the uncomfortable silence that for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out how to break. Every topic of discussion she thought up seemed like a transparent effort to avoid talking about the one thing she wanted to know.
Do you want me too?
But instead of asking, she bit into her charred black burger and forced herself to swallow.
Talk about something. Anything. Nothing could be worse than this silence.
She racked her brain for a neutral topic. His work was always a safe bet. Not that she’d understand half the words he used, but it was a start.
But when she opened her mouth to ask about his newest piece of code, different words popped out entirely.
“I have a date on Thursday.”
Walker choked on his burger.
“Not quite the reaction I expected.”
Coughing, he looked at her sideways. “What were you hoping for?”
“‘Congrats on getting out of the house more, Clara.’ That’s what you told me last time.”
“Last time was different.”
Her heart rate increased. “Why?”
“Because we didn’t have a baby we were trying to keep alive.”
The hope growing inside her crashed back to the ground. “It’s a couple days away. You have time to get more used to Hunter. I’ll make sure not to be out too late in case there’s an emergency and you need me. We could always ask Emily to extend her hours that night if you think it will be a problem.”
“Good idea,” he said, pushing his plate away and turning in his chair to face her. “Who’s the date with?”
“A friend of Diane’s. His name is Todd.”
“Todd.” His voice was deadpan.
“He’s in finance. I’ve met him a few times when he’s done some freelance work for us.”
Walker didn’t say anything.
“He’s really tall. And kind and smart with a good sense of humor. Exactly the sort of guy you always tell me to go after.”
“What a catch.”
She dug her fingers into the side of the island. “I know the timing is bad. But I agreed to this date ages ago before everything…well, before everything happened.”
“Before I made a mess of your life.” He turned away from her. “Go for it. Your last few selections weren’t exactly winning any awards.”
“Hey. I’ve dated a couple decent guys.”
He snorted. “You have terrible taste in men, Clara.”
Not true. I’m attracted to you, aren’t I?
Then again, Walker might see those words as further proving his point.
“We’ll have to see about that. Thursday won’t be a problem?”
“Hunter and I will make it work. Enjoy yourself with Ted.”
“Todd.”
“Him, too.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’d tell me if this bothered you, right?”
“Just as I’m sure you would.”
She smiled tightly, knowing she hadn’t always been honest about the women in Walker’s life. She’d wanted to like them, really, she had, but they never seemed…right for him. They didn’t fit him the way he needed them to. But those weren’t words she had any right to say, so she’d waved him off and pretended the odd girlfriend here and there drifting through his life was fine by her.
Had he been doing the same?
“Hunter looks peaceful,” he said, pointing to the sleeping baby. “I should take him to my room to get him settled for the night.”
“Great. I’ve got a story to work on. Diane is giving me a lot of leeway with hours, though, which means I can work from here tomorrow.”
“I need to call in to my board so we can trade shifts.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Not knowing what else to do, she took their plates to the sink and shifted nervously from foot to foot. “I’ll call it a night then. Do you need help getting the baby upstairs?”
“I’ve got it. Go get some rest.”
“Good night then.” She hesitated for one last moment before shaking her head and walking out into the hall.
Don’t make things more complicated. Focus on the baby. That’s why you’re here.
But that advice had seemed more reasonable before she lived with Walker. Before she’d seen him smile down at a baby that shared his eyes.
“Clara.”
She stopped, one foot on the first stair, to see him standing in the kitchen doorway.
“Yes?” she asked.
He ran a hand through his hair. “I make all the wrong decisions.”
She frowned. “I’ve been telling you that for years.”
“Well, I’m about to make another one.” He strode forward and before she could stop him, he wrapped an arm around her waist and claimed her mouth with his.
Chapter Seven
Heat surged through her body as his lips slanted over hers. She was too shocked to respond, but once her brain caught up with her body she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders to pull him closer.
There was nothing hesitant about his touch. No uncertainty about what, or who, he was kissing. He controlled the kiss with practiced ease, taking his time to taste her, tease her.
Her fingers clenched in the fabric of his shirt. This was wrong. She should push him away, but it felt so good there was no stopping the desire surging through her.
This is Walker. Your best friend. You don’t make out with your best friend.
Looks like I do now.
And hell, had she ever received a kiss that made her toes curl the way this one did?
His hands slid down her body, molding her to him as his tongue traced the seam of her lips. She parted them without pause, giving him the access he’d demanded. One hand rose to twist in her hair, angling her head to the side, and she smiled against his mouth. How would it feel if he tugged her head back to run his lips down her throat? Or if he waltzed her back against the wall, pressing her body up against his?
Or if he took her hand and led her to his bedroom?
Would I go?
She didn’t have an answer. She never wanted this moment to end.
Walker drew his lips across hers in a final gossamer touch and pulled back enough to face her without letting her go.
“What was that?” she whispered when she could speak again.
“A terrible idea,” he replied, his eyes on her mouth. “Enjoy your date.”
Releasing her, he spun around and headed back into the kitchen.
Grasping the rail, Clara blinked as she tried to process what had just happened.
Was it a terrible idea because he hadn’t found their kiss satisfying?
Or because he had?
She couldn’t stop herself from tracing her fingers over her lips. Walker had kissed her. Walker, the boy who’d helped her study to pass her stats class and the man who’d challenged her to a round of rock-paper-scissors to win his movie preference, had kissed her in a way that had nothing to do with friendship.
And everything to do with rolling naked between the sheets.
You can’t be standing here like a love-struck teen when he comes back with Hunter. Move.
Grabbing the stair rail, she jogged up the stairs two at a time. Running on silent feet to the guest room, she twirled inside and softly closed the door.
“What did I just do?” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. It was one thing to spin hypotheticals with Diane over almonds, but it was another entirely to cross the line she’d been trying to hold herself back from.
But the question remained about what would happen tomorrow when she had to face him again. Would this be the end of them?
Or the beginning?
…
Walker waited in the living room, red eyed from another sleepless night. Hunter hadn’t taken too kindly to being woken last night in order to be moved to the bedroom, and he’d had no trouble voicing his displeasure.
Never wake a sleeping baby. Clara had told him but he hadn’t listened.
I sure as hell will from now on.
He’d trekked down here early to avoid waking Clara when Hunter had demanded food at dawn. No doubt he’d be getting an earful as it was about his behavior last night when he finally faced her.
What was I thinking?
He’d kissed her. Not by mistake or because the situation was moving them both in that direction. No, he’d chased after her and made a very conscious choice.
Because he was apparently immature enough to be threatened by a faceless man he’d never met.
You can take on corporate giants and crush the competition, but you can’t handle Clara seeing someone else?
It’s not as if either of them had lived the life of a monk these past years. Hunter was proof enough of that.
But though the men in her life had annoyed him in a mild, don’t-want-to-examine-that-too-closely sort of way, they had never incited him to take action.
What was happening to him? Was it the sleep deprivation? The shock at Hunter’s presence?
Or the fact that for the first time in their lives, Clara wasn’t tucked away on the opposite end of the city. No, she was right here in front of him. Close enough that he could reach out to touch her any time he wanted.
Not that he thought she’d let him. But still, he could always try.
Though it was clear that living together came with drawbacks. In a couple of days, he’d have to watch her go off with another man when all he was allowed to do was smile and wish her well.
Those are the rules. If you cross lines with Clara, you could lose her. Do you want that to happen?
Last night the gamble had seemed worth it, but in the light of day he wasn’t sure. In the back of his mind, the sound of a door slammed. How often had he watched that door as a child, waiting for someone to finally walk back in?
&nbs
p; Shaking his head, he gazed down at Hunter. His son would never know the feeling of someone he loved walking out on him. He’d make sure of it.
The sound of footsteps from the second floor made him wince. Clara was up. Which meant he only had a few more minutes before he had to pay the piper.
Would she be furious at him for kissing her? Or would she want more?
He wasn’t sure which outcome was better.
What am I hoping comes out of all this?
He knew Clara looked for commitment when she dated. If she’d ever had a one-night stand she hadn’t told him about it. Which meant they’d never work, even if the attraction really was there. What could he offer right now beyond a little pleasure? He’d never be a boyfriend. Even the thought sent a cold chill down his spine. He should have thought this through before chasing after her last night. It had been a selfish move that he’d pay for today.
Right. Like you’d never kiss her again if the chance came up.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Why can’t any of this be easy?
He and Hunter waited while she went about her morning routine. The smell of coffee would lure her downstairs eventually.
Sure enough, ten minutes later she jogged down the stairs only to stop when she noticed him through the living room doorway.
“Hey,” she greeted, walking into the room. The uncertainty on her face would almost be adorable if the sight didn’t drive a spike through his chest.
“Morning,” he replied. “Hunter is an early bird it seems.”
She drifted closer until she stood uneasily by the edge of the couch. “Did he keep you up all night?”
He shrugged. “No more than I deserved for waking him. He could have slept quite happily in the kitchen.”
“I told you about sleeping babies.”
“You were right, as usual.”
Silence stretched as he watched her watch him. He’d been ready to apologize. Really, he had. But seeing her now he realized he had no regrets. He’d never forget the taste of her lips or the feeling of crushing her against his chest. He knew they wouldn’t work. They wanted different things from their lives. But if all he’d ever have was one moment with her, then he’d take it and damned if he’d apologize for it.
She chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “So,” she said.
A Baby for the Billionaire Page 6