It was the same old song. Her apartment. His house by the river. Kayla had been dividing herself between the two places for months. More so since their spur-of-the-moment wedding. “We’ve been through this before, Liam. You know how I feel and I can’t simply switch myself off from the rest of my life.” Emotion thickened her throat. “I know what you want from me, but I can’t break my father’s heart because it suits me to do so.”
“Are you so sure that you will?”
“Yes,” she shot back quickly. “I know my father. And I know he will have trouble accepting this...accepting you...accepting us. You’re J.D. O’Sullivan’s son and I’m Derek Rickard’s daughter. In his eyes it will be...impossible.”
He frowned a little. “Nonetheless, it’s a fact. One that can’t be avoided forever.”
“I can’t do it,” she insisted. “Not yet. I know I said I would...but I need more time, especially now that I’m possibly pregnant. You know my grandmother hasn’t been well and I don’t want to make things worse for my parents. Not right now. Please try to understand.”
Thinking about her ailing grandmother made her ache inside. She loved her family dearly. But she loved Liam, too. And to her parents it would be seen as the worst kind of betrayal.
But if there is a baby...
She would have to tell them. She would have to choose. Liam and her child, or her parents and her child. It was untenable. Unthinkable.
“Then, when?” he asked, clearly stuck on the idea. “When our kid is twenty-one?”
Kayla met his eyes and watched as his expression shifted. She recognized the way his strong jaw was suddenly tense and his shoulders twitched. He was mad. With her. At her. And obviously in spite of himself because Liam rarely let anyone witness his moods.
“You’re being impossible,” she said hotly and then shrugged, knowing it would inflame him, but she wasn’t about to start appeasing his moods.
“Once you start showing you won’t have anything to hide behind,” he shot back. “Unless you plan on saying the baby is someone else’s.”
Irritation curled up her spine. “Of course I don’t. And I’m not hiding,” she refuted. “Frankly, I don’t understand this sudden need to announce our relationship to the world,” she said and raised both brows. “Unless you want to deliberately stick it to your father, because let’s be honest—he won’t be any happier about this than my dad will be.”
He stayed perfectly still. “My father has nothing to do with this. Neither should yours.”
That was where they differed, she thought hotly. “Perhaps I’m not as good at trampling over people’s feelings as you are.”
“Really?” he fired back, his blue eyes glittering. “Because you seem to do a damned fine job of trampling over mine!”
There it was. Out in the open. Exactly what he believed.
Emotion clutched at her throat. Kayla hadn’t planned on crying, but tears filled her eyes just the same. She blinked, forcing back the heat behind her eyes, and then swallowed hard. He saw it all and within seconds was in front of her. He reached out to touch her, but she stepped back, her legs colliding with the edge of the sofa as she folded her arms tightly.
“Kayla...” He said her name, quieter now, his anger quickly defused. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout at you. I’m just so...” His words trailed off as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m just really...”
Kayla knew exactly what he was. Frustrated. Annoyed. And impatient.
With good reason...
Logically, she knew he had every right to be angry. But when it came to hurting her parents, logic flew out the window. “You should go,” she said flatly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He sighed heavily. “Is this really how you want to leave things tonight?”
She shrugged. “I don’t have the energy for another argument.”
He winced, like she’d struck a nerve. Then he reached out to cup her cheek. Kayla pulled back instinctively and he frowned as he dropped his hand. “Okay, I’ll leave you alone. Good night, Kayla.”
“Good night.”
Any other time he would have passionately kissed her good-night. Held her and touched her a while before he left. And she would have let him. But tonight felt different. There was more tension than usual between them. More unsaid words. More distance.
Then he was gone. Out of the apartment. Out of the building. And Kayla didn’t take a breath until she heard his footsteps going down the stairs.
Alone in his bed hours after he walked out of Kayla’s apartment, Liam spent most of the night staring at the ceiling and twisting in sheets, longing for Kayla’s body beside him. The scent of her perfume seemed to haunt him like a ghost, reminding him that it had been close to a week since they’d spent the night under the same roof.
The huge, Western red cedar house seemed unusually quiet and all he could hear was the familiar sound of the river nearby and the rhythmic chorus of insects in the trees. He had the house built a couple of years ago on a three-acre block that was mostly forest and very private, with a long gravel driveway that was plowed regularly in the snow season. There was a stone path leading to the river and a jetty where he kept his pair of Jet Skis; the boat he was rebuilding was in the boathouse.
He sighed, opening his eyes, and then looked directly out the open window. The moonlight filtered light across the river and the water was eerily luminescent. From the roomy loft-style main bedroom he had a great view of the river. On warm summer nights he mostly left the window open and enjoyed the breeze that swept through the upper level. Liam inhaled deeply and the scent of jasmine in the air reminded him of Kayla.
Everything reminded him of Kayla.
The air, the sheets...every damned thing.
His gut was in knots. Today they would find out if she was pregnant. The idea intensified his love for her tenfold. He wanted children and he wanted them with her. He knew what this would do to her family and perhaps his own. But with the idea that they were going to be parents now firmly etched into his mind, Liam didn’t care. They would have to deal with it, or deal out. Kayla and the baby she might be carrying were the only things that mattered.
He closed his eyes and imagined her belly round with his child. Her beauty would be amplified, her skin would glow, her breasts would be fuller. Then he remembered her pale, smooth skin and her perfect breasts and how they’d fit in his hands, and immediately his palms itched and his groin ached.
Liam groaned, sat up and swung his legs off the side of the big bed. He checked the clock on the bedside table. Three fifteen. He grabbed his phone and stood, pulling on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, and then headed downstairs.
The cat, a scruffy-looking black-and-white stray he’d randomly named Peanuts, which had turned up on his doorstep the week after he’d moved in, began meowing the moment he was spotted on the stairs. The cat always slept in a basket by the big fireplace, summer or winter. Liam had no real feelings about the feline one way or another. But he kept it fed and housed and had even installed a cat flap in the back door so it could come and go as it pleased. It did seem to stay more than leave, no doubt due to the comfy bed and endless supply of kibble.
He flicked on a couple of lights and headed for the huge galley-style kitchen. The Shaker-style cupboards were crafted from local ponderosa pine and the countertops were dark gray marble. The double ceramic sink and stainless-steel appliances were all top-of-the-line and mostly imported. Like with everything