by Joss Wood
Kade nodded. “I can eat.”
Brodie ordered two cheeseburgers with everything and when Jan left, Brodie smiled at Kade. “Her burgers are really good.” She reached into her bag, pulled out her reading glasses and slid them onto her face. “Shall we get started?”
* * *
Kade had never considered glasses to be sexy but Brodie’s black-rimmed frames turned her green eyes, already mesmerizing, to a deep emerald. He loved her eyes, he thought as he answered questions about his date of birth, his height, his weight. Then again, he also loved her high cheekbones, her stubborn chin, her small but very firm breasts and those long, slim legs.
He liked everything about her and he wished he could blow off lunch and take her to bed. When this stupidity was over, he promised himself. When it was done, he’d kidnap Brodie for the weekend, take her somewhere private and keep her naked in his bed until he’d burned this craving for her out of his system.
He was hardly sleeping and when he did, his dreams were erotic, with Brodie taking the starring role. He thought about her at the most inappropriate times. Memories from the night they shared obliterated his concentration. It was torture trying to negotiate when he recalled the way Brodie fell apart under his touch.
Brodie pinching his wrist pulled him back to their conversation. “What?”
“I asked...siblings?”
“None.” He’d always wanted a brother, someone to take the edge off the loneliness growing up. Someone to stand by his side as he entered the hallway of a new school or joined a new team. Someone who could help him recall the towns they’d lived in and in what order.
“Parents?”
“My father lives in the city, my mother died when I was ten.” He snapped the words out. He rubbed a hand over his jaw. God, he didn’t want to do this. He never discussed his childhood, his past, his on-off relationship with his socially inept, now reclusive father. “You don’t need information about my past so move along.”
He saw the furrow appear between Brodie’s eyebrows. Well, tough. His childhood was over. He finally had his brothers in Mac and Quinn and he was content. Sometimes he was even happy.
Kade leaned back in his seat. If he had to answer personal questions, then so did she. “And your parents? Where are they?”
“Dead.” Brodie didn’t lift her head. “I was twenty.”
“I’m sorry, Brodes.”
“Thanks. Moving on...what characteristic in a woman is most important to you? Looks, empathy, humor, intelligence?”
“All of them,” Kade flippantly answered, wishing he could ask how her parents died, but he could tell the subject was firmly off-limits. “Do you have siblings?”
“No.” Brodie tapped her fingernail against the screen of her tablet. “I’m asking the questions, Webb, not you.”
“Quid pro quo,” Kade replied. “Were you close to your parents?”
He saw the answer in her eyes. Sadness, regret, sheer, unrelenting pain. A glimmer suggesting tears was ruthlessly blinked away. Oh, yeah...they might’ve passed many years ago, but Brodie was still dealing with losing them.
He was fascinated by this softer, emotional Brodie. She was fiercely intelligent, sexy and independent, but beneath her tough shell she made his protective instincts stand up and pay attention. He wanted to dig deeper, uncover more of those hidden depths.
“Tell me about them, Brodie.”
“Where is our food?” Brodie demanded, looking around. “I could eat a horse.”
“Why won’t you talk about them?” Kade persisted. And why couldn’t he move off the topic? He never pushed this hard, was normally not this interested. Maybe he was getting sick? He was definitely sick of this matchmaking crap and he hadn’t even started with the dates yet. He just wanted to take Brodie home and make love to her again. Was that too much to ask?
Apparently it was.
Brodie finally, finally looked at him and when she did, her face was pale and bleak. “Because it hurts too damn much! Satisfied?”
Dammit, he hadn’t meant to hurt her. Brodie flung herself backward and stared out the window to watch the busy traffic.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured.
“Me, too.” Brodie, reluctantly, met his eyes. “Please don’t pry, Kade. I don’t talk about my past.”
Maybe she should. Someone, he realized, needed to hear her story and she definitely needed to tell it. It was a shock to realize he wanted to be the one to hear her tale. He wanted to be her friend, to offer comfort. To find out what made her tick.
Jan approached them with two loaded plates. She set the first one down on the table in front of Brodie and then put a plate in front of him. If the burger tasted as good as it smelled, then he was in for a treat, he thought, as he snagged a crispy fry and shoved it into his mouth.
He reached for the salt and frowned when he saw Brodie’s now white face. She stared at her plate and, using one finger, pushed it away.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded. “I thought you said you were hungry?”
“I was, not anymore.” Brodie swallowed and reached for her water. “I think I am definitely getting sick. I’m hot and feeling light-headed.”
Jan narrowed her eyes at her, then silently, and without argument, picked up Brodie’s plate. Kade didn’t understand the long, knowing look Jan sent Brodie and he didn’t give her another thought after she walked away.
He frowned when Brodie picked up her tablet and swiped her finger across the screen. “Just choose three women, Brodie, I’m begging you. Any three.”
Brodie, who, he was discovering, could give lessons in stubbornness to mules, just shook her head. “Not happening. So here we go...”
Do you base your life decisions more on feelings or rational thinking?
Are you more extroverted or introverted?
Is your bedroom, right now, messy or neat?
Are you more driven or laid-back in your approach to life?
After twenty-five minutes, Kade had a headache to match hers.
* * *
A week later Brodie tucked her wallet back into her tote bag and stuffed her phone into the back pocket of her oldest, most comfortable Levi’s. Slinging her tote over her shoulder, she took a long sip of the bottled water she’d just purchased and ignored the craziness of the airport. Brodie looked up at the arrivals board, thankful Poppy’s flight had landed fifteen minutes ago. Brodie really didn’t want to spend her Saturday morning hanging around waiting.
As per usual, there were no empty seats.
Brodie shook her head and headed for a small piece of wall next to a bank of phone booths. Propping her tote behind her back, she placed her booted foot up on the wall, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. God, she couldn’t remember when last she’d felt this overwhelming tiredness.
She was overworked, run-down, stressed out. Maybe she was flirting with burnout. She’d been working fourteen-and sixteen-hour days for the last few weeks, partly to keep up with her ever increasing client list. The publicity around Kade had resulted in a surge of business. Work was also an excellent way to stop thinking—obsessing—about Kade.
She really didn’t like the amount of space he was renting in her brain. And she wished she could just make a decision on who was going to be his first date. She knew she was being ultra picky but she couldn’t help it. She wanted pretty but not blow-your-socks-off attractive. She wanted a good conversationalist but not someone who was intriguing. She wanted smart but not too smart.
She didn’t want him to date anyone at all.
Which was ludicrous—she had no claim on the man and hadn’t she decided they needed some distance? God, maybe she was the source of her own exhaustion. Donating to the charity auction had not been one of her smarter ideas. Sure, it was a good cause, but following up her one-night
stand with finding her said ONS someone else to have a one-night stand with left a sour taste in her mouth.
Brodie silently urged her great-aunt to hurry up. Poppy had the energy and enthusiasm of a ten-year-old with a tendency to talk to everyone she encountered. Brodie wondered how long Poppy would be staying in town before the travel bug bit again. She’d visited more countries in three years than most people did in a lifetime and Brodie couldn’t help but admire her great-aunt’s sense of adventure. It took courage to travel on her own and to make friends along the way.
Just hurry yourself up, Poppy. I really am feeling, well, like hell. And the sooner we get out of here, the happier I’ll be.
A cramping stomach accompanied Brodie’s nausea. She clenched her jaw and clutched her stomach, frantically thinking about what she had recently eaten that could have given her food poisoning. Cornflakes? Last night’s boiled egg?
Brodie took a series of deep breaths, sucked on some more water and felt the nausea recede. When she opened her eyes again she saw Poppy, one hand on her travel case and the other on her hip, a speculative look on her face.
Brodie managed a wan smile. “Hey, you’re here. That was quick.” She kissed Poppy’s cheek and gave her a long hug. “How was Bali?”
“Loved it,” Poppy replied. “I was considering staying another month but then I was invited to join a cruise to Alaska leaving in the next month.”
“You’re leaving again?”
Poppy dropped into a recently vacated empty seat. “You look dreadful. Are you sick?”
“Yeah, so nauseous. I must’ve eaten something bad last night.
Poppy grinned. “Unless you’ve discovered sex in the last six weeks and someone has dropped a bun in your oven. But that’s not likely since you have the world’s most boring sex life.”
Brodie stared at her great-aunt while Poppy’s words sank in.
No, no... God, no!
“I’m not pregnant.” Brodie ground out the words, pushing back her hair. She wasn’t even going to consider such a ridiculous scenario. She was on the pill! Brodie scrabbled in her bag for another bottle of water and after trying to open it with a shaking hand, passed it over to Poppy for help twisting off the cap. Brodie felt her body ice up with every drop she swallowed.
“Pregnancy would explain how you are feeling and is a result of sex. So, have you had any lately?”
Admitting to sex made the possibility of her being pregnant terribly real. “One time, weeks ago. The condom split.”
“Ah, that would explain it.”
“It explains nothing! I’m on the pill!”
“Even the pill can fail sometimes.”
Brodie lowered the bottle and started to shake. Could she possibly be pregnant with Kade’s baby?
From a universe far away Brodie felt Poppy’s hand on her back. “Come on, Mata Hari, let’s find you a pregnancy test and you can tell me who, what, where and when.”
* * *
Three pregnancy tests could not be wrong. Unfortunately.
It had taken a week of Poppy’s nagging for Brodie to find her courage to do a pregnancy test and now she desperately wished she hadn’t.
Brodie stared at the three sticks lined up on the edge of her bathroom counter and hoped her Jedi mind trick would turn the positive signs to negative. After five minutes her brain felt like it was about to explode so she sat down on the toilet seat and placed her head in her hands.
She was pregnant. Tears ran down her face as she admitted that Poppy had called it—the girl who had the sex life of a nun was pregnant because Kade Webb carried around a faulty condom.
Jerk. Dipstick. Moron.
Brodie bit her lip. What was the moron/jerk/dipstick doing tonight? It was Saturday. He might be on a date with one of her suggestions for his first date. Which one? The redhead with the engineering degree? The blonde teacher? The Brazilian doctor? Brodie pulled her hair. If she thought about Kade dating, she’d go crazy.
Maybe, instead of feeling jealous of those women, it would be sensible to consider the much bigger problem growing inside her. The exploding bundle of cells that would, in a couple of weeks, become a fetus and then a little human, a perfect mixture of Kade and her.
She wasn’t ready to be a mommy. Hell, she wasn’t ready—possibly wouldn’t ever be ready—for a relationship. And motherhood was the biggest relationship of them all. It never ended. Until death...
Brodie felt the room spin and knew she was close to panicking. She couldn’t be responsible for another life. She couldn’t even emotionally connect to anyone else. How would she raise a well-balanced, well-adjusted kid with all her trust and loss and abandonment issues?
How could she raise a kid at all? She couldn’t do this. She didn’t have to do this. It was the twenty-first century and if she wanted, she could un-pregnant herself. Her life could go back to what it was before... She could be back in control. She wouldn’t have to confront Kade. She wouldn’t have to change her life. By tomorrow, or the day after, she’d be back to normal.
Brodie stood up and looked at her pale face in the mirror. Back to normal. She wanted normal... Didn’t she? She wanted smooth, unemotional, uncluttered. She wasn’t the type who wanted to sail her ship through stormy seas. She’d experienced the tempests and vagaries and sheer brutality of life and she didn’t want to be on another rocking boat.
Right. Sorted. She had a plan. So why wasn’t she feeling at peace with the decision? Why did she feel at odds with herself and the universe?
“You can’t hide in there forever.” Poppy’s voice drifted under the door. Brodie reached over and flipped the lock. Within ten seconds Poppy’s keen eyes saw the tests and the results. Poppy, being Poppy, just raised her eyebrows. “What are you going to do?”
Brodie lifted her shoulders and let them hover somewhere around her ears. It would help to talk this through with someone and since Poppy was here Brodie figured she was a good candidate. “I’m thinking about—” she couldn’t articulate the process,“—becoming un-pregnant.”
If she couldn’t say it, how was she going to do it?
Poppy, unmarried by choice, didn’t react to that statement. “That’s one option,” she stated, crossing her arms over her chest, her bright blue eyes shrewd.
“Raising a child by myself is not much of an option,” Brodie snapped.
“Depends on your point of view,” Poppy replied, her voice easy. “Your parents thought you were the best thing to hit this planet and they had you in far more difficult circumstances than you are in now.”
Brodie frowned. “I’ll be a single mother, Poppy. My parents were together.”
“They were married, yes, but your father was in the army, stationed overseas. Your mom was alone for six, eight months at a time and she coped. Money was tight for them.” Poppy looked at Brodie’s designer jeans and pointed to her expensive toiletries. “Money is not an object for you. You are your own boss and you can juggle your time. You could take your child to work or you could start working more from home. This is not the disaster you think it is.”
Brodie tried to find an argument to counter Poppy’s, but she came up blank. Before she could speak, Poppy continued. “Your parents were practically broke and always apart and yet they never once regretted having you. They were so excited when you came along.”
Brodie’s mom had loved kids and had wanted a houseful but, because she’d had complications while she was pregnant with Brodie, she’d had to forgo that dream. “I can’t wait until you have kids,” she’d tell Brodie. “I hope you have lots and I’ll help you look after them.”
Except you are not here when I need you most. You won’t be here to help and I’ll have to do it...alone.
Poppy wouldn’t give up her traveling to become a nanny. Besides, knowing Poppy, she’d probably leave the baby at the s
upermarket or something.
“What about the man who impregnated you?”
“You make me sound like a broodmare, Pops,” Brodie complained, pushing her hand into her hair. She looked around and noticed they were having this life-changing discussion in her too-small bathroom. “And why are we talking in here?”
“Because I’m standing in the doorway and you can’t run away when the topic gets heated.”
“I don’t run away!” Brodie protested. Though, in her heart, she knew she did.
Poppy rolled her eyes at the blatant lie. “So, about the father.”
“What about him?” Brodie demanded.
“Are you going to tell him?”
Brodie groaned. “I don’t know what the hell I am going to do, Poppy!”
Poppy crossed one ankle over the other and Brodie saw she’d acquired a new tattoo in Bali, this one on her wrist. “I think you should talk to him. The decision lies with you but he was there. He helped create the situation and he has a right to be part of the solution.”
“He doesn’t have to know, either way.”
“Legally? No. Morally? You sure?” Poppy asked.
Brodie tipped her head up to look at the ceiling. “I was at the point of making a decision,” Brodie complained. “Thank you for complicating the situation for me, Great-aunt.”
“Someone needs to,” Poppy muttered, looking exasperated. She pointed a long finger at Brodie’s face. “Your problem is that since your parents and friends died, you always take the easy route, Brodie.”
“I do not!”
“Pfft. Of course you do! Not having this baby is the easy way. Not telling the father is the easy way. Living in this house and burying yourself in your work—finding other people love but not yourself!—is taking the easy route. You need to be braver!”
“I survived a multicar pileup that wiped out my parents and best friends!” Brodie shouted.
“But it didn’t kill you!” Poppy responded, her voice rising, too. “You are so damn scared to risk being hurt that you don’t live! You satisfy your need for love by setting up other people. You keep busy to stop yourself from feeling lonely, and you don’t do anything exciting or fun. Do you know how thrilled I am to find out that you’ve had a one-night stand? I think it’s brilliant because someone finally jolted you out of your safety bubble. And, dammit, I hope you are brave enough to talk to the father, to have this kid, because I think it will be the making of you.”