by Tania Joyce
A lazy smile slid across Kyle’s face. “We confirmed a date for our wedding. October. Belize, here we come.”
“All right, bud.” He high-fived Kyle. “That’s awesome.”
Hunter did a quick calculation in his head. That was three months after his baby was due. Kara should be able to make it.
“Excuse me, Mr. Collins, Mr. McIntyre.” Juliette, their flight attendant, rested her hand on the back of Kyle’s chair. “The snowfall has caused some minor delays. We have about thirty minutes to wait before takeoff. Can I get you anything in the meantime?”
Hunter shook his head and looked out at the tarmac of the Charles de Gaulle airport. Airplanes taxied toward the takeoff runway, wind gusts swirled clouds of snow, and vehicles with flashing lights zipped past.
“Um . . . yes,” Kyle said. “Two coffees, please?”
“Sure.” Juliette took off toward the galley at the back.
Hunter strummed his fingers on the mahogany table between them. “If we’re celebrating wedding dates, shouldn’t you have ordered champagne?”
Kyle dragged his hands down his face. “Ergh, I can’t face alcohol right now. And besides, we need to talk.”
What did Kyle want to talk about? The wedding? Hunter inhaled a sharp breath. “Sure. What is it? I’ve already agreed to be your best man.”
“Ah, no. Not about weddings.” Kyle looked over his shoulder in the direction of the flight attendant, then back at him. “That. You ignored a smoking hot attendant again. Normally you’d be all over her in an instant.”
Hunter leaned out into the aisle and checked out Juliette. With her blond hair knotted into a bun, she had a nice smile, curvy hips, and long legs. She had that sexy, sweet, come-and-do-me look about her. Yeah. Normally, she was someone he’d bang in an instant. But nothing about him was normal. Not anymore. “She’s all right. But I’ll pass.” He shrugged it off like it was no big deal.
“This is more serious than I thought.” Kyle leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “Sam said you left last night with Amie. Like . . . what the hell? She’s the devil.”
Hunter winced. Amie was the devil. Seductive. Alluring. Hot. And someone he should stay away from.
Carla and Margo shuffled past them. Carla play-punched him in the arm as she passed. They joined Gemma’s conversation at the front.
Kyle straightened his legs. “Who let Amie into our private bar area?”
“I did.” Hunter’s leg jiggled at speed.
“You what?” Kyle’s sharp tone hit him like an uppercut to the chin. “Why?”
“When I saw her by the main bar, I had to see her. See how she was doing.” He needed to find out if she’d suffered like he had, regretted hurting him, held any remorse for screwing up Everhide’s contract with SureHaven Records. She didn’t. It had hardened his heart even more. “I wanted to find out why she was there. I thought . . . that we could talk.”
But he was kidding himself. When he was with Amie, they’d rarely talked. All they’d done was fuck. Fuck like rabbits. That was all he was good for. Sex. Nothing else. He’d meant nothing to her.
Juliette returned with their coffees and placed them on the table between them.
“Thanks.” Kyle dismissed her and grabbed his cup. “Please tell me you did nothing stupid, Hunt?”
“It depends on what you define as stupid.” Hunter smirked, picked up his coffee, and took a sip. “I didn’t know she was high on coke until we got back to my room.”
Kyle slammed his cup down. “Why did you take her to your room?”
“To get away from everyone—the cameras, the gossipers, the fans.”
“Please tell me you didn’t fuck her? Or do drugs?”
The temptation to do both had been there. For less than a second. He wasn’t going to end up a screwed-up mess again—over her, or drugs. He had a baby due in a few months. That was all that mattered.
“She can be very persuasive.” Hunter sighed. “You know Amie.” The moment the door to his room closed, she’d tried to tear his clothes off. Her lips had been hot on his. She’d torn his shirt open. Her frantic hands had been through his hair, on his ass, all over his body.
He closed his eyes and tried to block the memory from his mind. She’d felt so good, her flesh pressing against his. He’d been so hard. Turned on. But when she’d reached for his belt, he’d stopped her. He’d stopped her because all he could think about was Kara. About Ryan.
“Amie’s an addictive drug.” He gripped his coffee cup tighter. “One I no longer need. I didn’t sleep with her. We talked about Ryan.” Before she passed out on his bed on a drugged-up high.
“Are you sure about that?” Kyle interrogated him like he was a criminal on trial.
“Yes.”
“Thank Christ for that. I don’t know what’s going on in your head, Hunt. You haven’t been yourself this tour. I understand Kara falling pregnant hasn’t been easy on you, or her. The past few weeks, you’re up and down all the time. You gotta stop bottling up whatever is eating you inside. You know you can talk to me, Gem, or both of us about anything.”
“That’s just it.” Hunter gulped down a mouthful of coffee as the jets on the engine roared to life. “I can’t think straight anymore. Kara’s fucked with my head, my life—my very existence.” Changed the path of my future.
The phone conversation with her flickered through his mind. Hearing her voice. Seeing Ryan. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face. “Kara texted last night. She felt the baby move for the first time. I called her. I couldn’t see him move, but I saw how much her tummy has grown. Ryan’s getting bigger every day. It’s so wicked.”
“A-ha.” Kyle scratched at the stubble on his cheek.
Hunter grabbed his cell phone from his jacket pocket and opened the photo Kara had sent him. He stroked his thumb over the picture of her smiling and showing off her baby bulge. So awesome. With a flick of his wrist, he flashed the picture to Kyle. “He’s eighteen weeks.”
“Look at you.” Kyle shook his head. “You’re gloating, and it isn’t even born yet. I never thought I’d see the day.”
Hunter stared at the image of Kara. She was sexy, lying on her bed, with a rosy glow in her cheeks. He swiped the screen to off.
“Can you be honest with me?” Kyle dropped his head back against the seat.
“Always.”
“Are you into Kara in any way? At all?”
“What?” That was one of the questions he asked himself every day. How could he reply to that when he couldn’t give a straight answer? Kara was a melody of mayhem. Funny. Irritating. Annoying. Sexy. Sassy. Frustrating. Stubborn. Smart. She drove him freaking crazy. One minute he wanted to kiss her, fuck her, and the next minute he couldn’t run in the opposite direction fast enough.
She’d altered his life. Trapped him. She’d taken him down a path he never knew he wanted. Ryan had changed everything, and not all for the better. “I think about her and the baby every day. How can I not? In a few months, my life is going to change forever. I’ve had to deal with it, accept it, and take responsibility. Seeing Amie last night made me realize I’ve changed. I’ve had to change.”
“I know. But you didn’t answer the question. Hunt, you should see the way your face lights up when you talk about Kara. And seeing that photo.” Kyle pointed to the cell phone in Hunter’s hand. “Is that buzz for the baby, her, or both?”
Kyle’s observation sent a chill through his veins. Made his head ache.
What Hunter had been feeling since New Year’s terrified him. He was so protective of his own family, and he couldn’t believe it now included his son. He’d do anything for Ryan. There’d been one crazy nanosecond when he danced with Kara, when her body had felt so perfect next to his, that he thought he wanted to let his guard down and take a chance on her. But it was just the JD talking. His dick wanting some action. There was no way he was into her. She’d made it perfectly clear they were only ever going to be friends. And
she was right. He didn’t want a relationship. He wasn’t ready to settle down. So that buzz for her had to be eradicated. He had to focus on his son. “It’s for Ryan.”
“And you’re sure about that?” Kyle swiveled his cup around on the table. “Because this is exactly what happened during our last tour. My head was so screwed up over Gem, and so was yours. The way you’re acting now is how you were back then when you struggled with your feelings for her. You question every look, every touch, and every moment. Is that what’s going on with you and Kara?”
Being with Gemma had been different. He’d had strong feelings for her. He’d taken a chance on seeing if it was something more. But there wasn’t. He loved her like a sister. Nothing else. But Kara? This was deeper. Harder. More intense. “I’ve questioned everything I feel about her. From hating her to thinking there might be something. But there’s not. It’s been hard coming to terms with having a baby. That’s all.”
The PA bell dinged. “This is your captain speaking. We have been given clearance for departure. Cabin crew, please prepare our guests for takeoff.”
Kyle cupped the nape of his neck and stretched it back. “Hunt, you’re not picking up girls. You’ve got this vacant look about you half the time. You’re here physically, not mentally. You switch on for the shows, then off the minute we’re offstage. It’s gotta stop.”
“I’m sorry this is affecting you and Gem.” He dug his fingers into thighs. “I’m doing my best to deal with everything.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“Who made you Dr. Phil?” Why did his best mate have to know him so well?
“Remember, I’m the deep, brooding, emotional musician?” Kyle said with a glint in his eye. “I observe things.”
“You’re a dick.” Hunter’s head slumped back and he glared at the overhead locker. “Stop with your psychoanalysis.”
Kyle chuckled and shook his head. A huge grin spread across his face. “Never. Kara’s a great girl. The minute she broke up with Conrad, you couldn’t wait to get in her panties. She falls pregnant. You’ve had to face your worst nightmares. She’s met your family. You’ve done everything to ensure she’s safe and looked after. You left us on New Year’s to see her. You call and text her. All you do is think about her.”
“So? What’s your point?”
“You’re into her. Admit it.”
“No,” he snapped, clenching his hand into a fist. He liked her but wasn’t into her. Why consider the possibility of something more when she wasn’t into him? And even if she was, he couldn’t go down a road that would only end in hurt. He couldn’t do that to the mother of his child. “We’re friends. That’s it.”
“All right.” Kyle held up his palms. “I’m sorry. I’ll back off. I get it. It’s all about the baby. Not Kara.”
Hunter’s jaw ached from straining his muscles. Kara had gotten to him. She’d weaved her way into his life. Forced him to reassess everything—his lifestyle, his plans, his behavior. His future wasn’t just about him, Gem, and Kyle, and their music anymore. Somehow, he had to fit a baby into the mix. Become a responsible father. Me? Responsible? Who would have thought? But he’d do it. “That’s right. It’s all about Ryan.”
The seatbelt sign came on and the girls took to their seats. Gemma came and gave Kyle a kiss before she sat in the bay of seats across the aisle with Bec. Juliette cruised through the cabin and closed the overhead lockers. The door was shut, and the plane taxied toward the runway.
“Kyle, you wanna know what’s really been getting to me?” Hunter wiped his hands down his jeans and glimpsed at the airport buildings as the plane passed. “Take out Kara, and the lawyers, and all the drama—this has been the hardest thing to comprehend since the scan. And it’s been growing every day.” It was the one thing that set a spark through his veins and had him counting down the days until the end of tour. “Last night, it blew into epic proportions.”
“What is it?” Kyle asked.
The plane pointed down the runway to take off. The jets roared as the plane thundered down the tarmac and launched into the air.
Hunter put his stresses aside and smiled a beaming smile. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this.” He sucked in a deep breath, and warmth filled his heart. “But . . . I’m excited. I still don’t know how the hell Kara and I are going to make it work, but I’m actually looking forward to having a baby. I’m going to be a daddy. A fucking daddy. I’m going to have a son.”
Chapter 16
Kara held onto her baby bump as her driver navigated through the crazed streets and avenues of Midtown, dodging potholes and clattering over subway grates, taking her back to work after her lunchtime obstetrician appointment. With every yard they covered, more worry rippled through her mind, and tension tugged at the base of her neck. Her twenty-four-week scan showed that Ryan was on the small side, and her blood pressure was too high. She had to be careful, lower her stress levels, and get more rest. Was that possible with her current job demands? Would Conrad let her reduce her workload, maybe even her hours? Her health and Ryan were all that mattered.
First thing: she grabbed her cell phone and texted Hunter with the latest Ryan update.
Went to doctor. 24 weeks today.
A huge grin spread across her face when her phone tinkled, and she saw Hunter’s reply.
Send me a picture.
Did he ever sleep?
During the past month, Hunter had texted her more often. She loved the messages and the random phone calls they now shared. Most of them were baby-oriented, with him insisting she send him a picture of her growing belly every week. Some days it was hard to not let the protective shield around her heart falter.
He’d changed. His attitude toward the baby had done a complete turnaround since the first scan. But she had to remember he cared about Ryan—not her.
A new resilience had taken hold of her in the past few weeks. She was stronger. Grateful that she and Hunter had become friends.
Sitting up straight on the car seat, her belly popped out, round like a melon beneath her maternity top. She took a snap of her tummy and sent it to Hunter. Giles, sitting next to her, shook his head and turned to look out the window. At first, doing the photos had been weird, but now she loved taking the images. They gave her a record of her pregnancy, and the beautiful baby growing inside her. Treasured memories she could keepsake.
She attached the image to her message.
Here you go. Doc says baby small. Must eat more.
Seconds later, her phone buzzed.
Look after yourself. You’re eating for two. H.
She also sent him a photo of the baby outfits she’d bought at the store across the street from her doctor’s. Two onesies, white, and covered in music notes. How could she resist?
Cool. XOXO.
Hugs and kisses? They were for Ryan, but still, a warm glow washed over her and she hugged her cell phone to her chest. In eight weeks, he’d be home from tour. How would things change then?
Did he want to come to her neonatal classes? Did he want to help prep the nursery she hadn’t got to yet? How often should they catch up before the baby? And what about after Ryan was born? Would she be doing the late nights and dealing with a screaming baby all alone? Nothing had been set in concrete.
Ergh! She couldn’t worry about that now. She had too much to do. Orders had been flooding into Conrad’s since fashion week, and she was already working with her team on next season’s line.
When she arrived at the office, Giles ushered her into the building. No one on the street gave her a sideways glance.
“Thanks, Giles. See you tonight. Six o’clock, unless you hear from me.”
“Yes, ma’am. Have a good day.” He waved goodbye, slipped back out to the car, and the driver took off.
Why Hunter insisted she still have security baffled her. Life was somewhat normal.
She stepped out of the elevators onto her floor, hoping to have an easy afternoon at work, but Melissa, the re
ceptionist, pulled her up straight away.
“Conrad wants to see you.” Melissa yanked off her headset and jumped up, sending her chair spinning backward. “In his office. I don’t know what it’s about, but I warn you, he’s been flying off at everyone for the past two hours. I think you could be the next.”
“Great. What have I done now?” Kara adjusted her purse strap on her shoulder while juggling her shopping bag in her hand. The baby kicked violently. Ow! Kara grunted and clutched at the ache in her belly.
“You okay?” Melissa stepped forward, holding out her hand.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Baby’s not happy about having to meet with Conrad either.”
Walking through the design room, Kara weaved past workstations where colleagues huddled together going over design sketches and fabric swatches. Pattern-cutting tables were covered in scraps of material and paper. Sewing machines hummed and whirred. Seamstresses focused on their stitches. Half-dressed mannequins stood about the floor showing dresses due next week for the Tribeca Film Festival.
“Morning, gang.” Kara dumped her bags underneath her desk, turned on her laptop, and smiled at her two team members. “Did we get those combed cotton samples in from Italy?” she asked Jon, the textile technician.
“Yes, we did.” He swept his hand through his fire-truck red hair. “They’re gorgeous. The weave is divine.”
“Excellent.” She straightened her shirt. “Conrad wants to see me and then we’ll go through them. Tim, can you make sure we have all the briefs from Conrad?”
“All ready to go.” He patted his pile of color-coded folders—red for pants, green for tops, and blue for dresses.
“Awesome. I won’t be long.”
“KARA!” Conrad boomed from his office doorway on the other side of the work floor. “My office. Now.”
Kara drew in a steady breath. They’d had their strategy meetings and planning sessions earlier in the week. Her team’s designs were on schedule, orders had been met, and production was happening. What could he want with her?
Holding her chin high, she entered his elaborate office and shut the door behind her. Bright, natural light beamed in through the huge windows that overlooked Bryant Park. Even with its bare trees and frosted brown grass, the park had a greater variety of colors than Conrad’s office. Almost every item in it was black—the leather sofa, the desk, the chairs—or orange—the cushions, the wall art, the stationery. Kara would kill to add different colored cushions and a vibrant flower arrangement.