Lethal Affair (11 page)

“
Being pregnant just doesn't
seem like a good enough premise for marriage. Not in this era
anyway.” She shook her head. “As you can see, I'm one confused
girl.”

Woman. All woman, he thought. He
admired her honesty and the fact that she wasn't jumping into
something foolishly.

He guided her to the deck and said,
“Sit for a while. I've got something to tell you that might
help.”

Curious, she laid back on a lounger
while he sat on one opposite. Sunlight dappled across his lightly
tanned skin and tripped into his blue eyes, picking out flecks of
gold. She felt... safe.

He took her hand, played absently with
her fingers as he began to speak. There was something intimate yet
noncommittal about the gesture.

“
Ten years ago I had a son
with my high school friend. Now, I say friend because that's what
we are, nothing more, nothing less. We were young and foolish and
we thought we could beat the odds of getting pregnant while we both
learned how to be lovers. I admit we had a physical thing for each
other. But we both knew getting hitched would never work for either
of us.”

Kylie was surprised. It had never
occurred to her that Will was a father, let alone to a ten year old
boy.

“
Her name is Julia McMillan
and his name is Max. Julia and I live very different lives. The one
thing we do have in common is our love for our boy. We make it
work. I'm a big part of Max's life and it would never come into her
mind to deny me that. We share the expense of raising him as well
as time spent with him.”

He took a moment to sort out his
thoughts. “I won't tell you it's been easy. There have been bumps
in the road and we've just hit one because they live on the
mainland and Max has put it in his head to come and live with me.
Julia's getting married early next year and says that Max likes the
dude well enough but he doesn't want him to be his Dad. Try
explaining to a ten year old that it doesn't work that way. That
I'll always be his Dad no matter what.”

Kylie's fingers were still linked with
his and it felt entirely natural. “Crazy world. New age principles
and all.”

Will's laugh was a wheeze. “I'm
surprising myself by saying this, but old world values are still
some of the best ones. I've got to make the right call here. But
hey, it's not your problem and not my point. I'm telling you this
because I want you to know that having a child out of wedlock is
do-able.”

She squeezed his hand and then let go.
“I'm coming to terms with that, and I'm giving Drew's proposal some
serious thought. It's a matter of spending more time with him to
see if he's the guy for me.”

Her statement zinged his heart and he
fervently wished he didn't agree with her. It wouldn't be fair to
muddy her thoughts seeing as she was trying to do right by the
child. He'd back off now, wouldn't interfere.

She looked at her watch. “Speaking of
which, I'm due at his place for dinner.”

Regretfully he pulled her to her feet
and walked her to his front door.

“
You're a sunbeam in my
life, Kylie Lambert,” he told her. “I hope at the very least we can
be friends.” He'd always hated that line when he heard it in the
movies and here he was now, using it.

“
I don't see why
not.”

Will watched her SUV turn the corner
and realized he could see exactly why they couldn't be just
friends. He felt completely drained. It took more energy to hold
himself back than it did to let go.

*

Three dates in one day. This last one
should have her dancing on air. Instead she felt wary.

Probably just tired, she thought, as
she rode the elevator up to Drew's condo. Catching her distorted
reflection in the buffed metal interior, she placed a hand on
either side of her head and imitated Edvard Munch's, The Scream,
laughing at herself.

Drew ushered her inside his apartment.
Aromatic smells hung in the air, garlic, onions, and something was
roasting.

“
Anything I can do to
help?”

“
Yeah. Decant the wine. Pick
out whatever you want from the wine cooler.”

“
What are we
eating?”

“
Roast beef with all the
trimmings.”

She marveled. “I'll have to pass on
the wine but there's no reason you can't enjoy some. So you can
cook. Didn't know that about you Drew.”

He deftly tossed quartered potatoes
into a pot of boiling water, added a dash of salt. “Doesn't happen
often. How about you? You've never invited me over for a home
cooked meal.” However innocent the comment, it carried a distinct
pout.

Kylie uncorked a bottle of Piñot Noir.
Watching Drew rinse green beans in a colander, she imagined what it
might be like to live with him. To come home to him every day after
work and have the father of her child be there for them. She
couldn't quite formulate it in her mind.

Drew was waiting for a reply. His
casual attire of t-shirt and lounging pants made him less severe,
more approachable. Yet a part of her remained on guard, her nerves
on alert. She felt like she was taking a test and that her answers
would be judged.

“
The occasion never arose. I
have a roommate.”

He grunted. “The invisible Jolene. Why
haven't you introduced me to her? It's kinda creepy how she hovers
at the top of the stairs whenever I pick you up.”

“
We have an agreement. No
interfering in each others dating life.” Of course that rule had
long since flown out the window.

He came around to her side of the
counter, perched on a stool. “We're not just dating anymore, Kylie.
What we have here is a real agenda. You're going turn this thing
inside out and in the end you'll realize I'm a good
catch.”

She laughed. Then caught herself when
she realized he was dead serious and felt his instant
irritation.

“
I want you to meet my
parents before the baby begins to show. I've scheduled a dinner at
their place for this coming Saturday.”

“
You haven't told
them?”

He looked shocked. “They'd be
mortified. That's why I want to move this along, Kylie. I want them
to like you for who you are and not just because you're pregnant
with their grandchild.”

Okay, that made sense. “Sounds
reasonable. I already told my folks this morning at
brunch.”

He tensed. “What did they
say?”

“
I told them about your
proposal and that I want to take some time to get to know you
better first.”

“
Your Dad didn't pull out a
shotgun?”

“
They said they'd stand by
whatever decision I make.”

“
You mean we, whatever
decision we make.”

“
Well yes, technically, but
it's my body and my...”

He grabbed her arms fast in a bruising
grip. “Kylie, listen to me. I intend to be part of this child's
life. By association that means I'll be part of your life, for
good. So get used to it. Don't even suggest what I think you were
about to, because if you try it I'll find a way to circumvent
you.”

The vehement statement stunned Kylie
into momentary silence. Pupils dilated, nostrils flared, he glared
at her.

“
Let, me, go. That
hurts.”

He looked down at his hands and
released her instantly. Closing his eyes he took a calming breath.
“Sorry. This is important. It's my life here.”

“
Mine and junior's too.”
Kylie rubbed her arms, her dander up. “I can promise you this: I
won't have an abortion and I won't let the kid go out for adoption.
This child will have the full support of my family. Watch your
step, Drew. Grab me like that again and I'll disappear from your
life so fast your head will spin.”

A muscle worked in his cheek. She'd
seen that same muscle do its little sit-up routine before. Was this
a regular thing, this ill-controlled temper?

Contrition won over and he turned back
to the kitchen, checked the oven. When he was done, all traces of
anger had dissipated.

“
Sometimes I'm a little
wound up. I don't know my own strength. I love you, Kylie. There,
I've said it. Does that count for anything?”

Why did it sound like a backhanded
compliment instead of a lover's confession?

“
What's love for you,
Drew?”

He snorted. “Are you going to quiz me
on definitions of how If feel?”

“
It's a fair
question.”

He pulled the roasting pan from the
oven and placed it on top of the stove. Steam rose, and with it
mouthwatering aromas.

“
Don't turn this into a
debate,” he said, draining the potatoes and placing them in a bowl.
“Why are you making this so hard?”

Why indeed? Kylie watched as he added
cream, butter and chives to the potatoes and began to mash them.
His moves were jerky, an indication he was again wrestling with his
temper.

Worrisome. Add in the fact that since
she'd last seen him she hadn't pined for him or awaited his next
call with bated breath.

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for an
answer.

“
Sorry, thought it was a
rhetorical question. Guess I'm just tired. Pregnancy is draining.
I'll set the table. Where do you keep your plates?”

He pointed the masher at a cupboard.
“I already have a house picked out for us when we marry,” he
announced.

She wouldn't have a say in
it?

“
You won't work. You'll stay
home with the kid.”

“
Barefoot and pregnant? Not
me. I happen to like my job, my work. I wouldn't want to give it
up.”

“
There you go again, making
things difficult. Do you know how many women would jump at the
chance? Most, I think.”

Then go and get one of
them
. My God, but he got her back up. It
was irritating to be lumped into a certain type and have major
decisions made for her. While it was true that some women would put
up with any number of irritations to land a man in holy matrimony,
and that marriage came with a capital C for compromise, she also
knew that love meant honoring and supporting each others aims,
wishes, and goals in life.

Formidable sides of Drew's character
seemed to be leaking out. Red flags were popping up left and right.
Did he think he had her over a barrel? That she was obligated to be
his wife because he'd refused to wear a condom?

“
Didn't you tell me your
parents' marriage is a disaster because they didn't take the time
to know who they were marrying?” she asked.

Drew's expression soured. “You're
determined to ruin this, aren't you? I'm doing the best I can here.
What more do you want?”

She wanted to feel something
for him other than intimidation, but that was what he was giving
her. He made her hackles go up in self-defense. She didn't need
more time with him, she thought bitterly, to know that
love
wasn't likely to
bloom. At least not for her.

He'd gone to a lot of effort to cook
this meal, so she'd be polite. “Let's eat. Brunch was a long time
ago and I'm starving.”

The gravy made, they sat
down at his dining table overlooking the view of the narrow passage
leading into the Inner Harbor where lights glimmered on the water.
Candles flickered and glassware glistened. The beef was tender and
succulent. It was an ultra-romantic setting that ideally should
have led into a night of wild and sweaty sex. But Drew had
withdrawn into a childish sulk and she felt a mantle of exhaustion
pull at her, not so much physical but emotional. It shouldn't
be
work
to be with
somebody, and if he couldn't stand up to a little verbal jousting,
then how would he handle life's more difficult moments?

Logic told her his proposal should
have elevated her to cloud nine. Instinct told her she still had
her feet firmly planted on the ground, and the fact that those feet
were ready to go home spoke volumes.

Drew had other ideas. When she
declined dessert he did a one-eighty as though there had been no
exchange of harsh words earlier and presumptuously led her toward
his bedroom.

When she realized what was happening
she dug in. “No, Drew. I'm really tired. Monday morning can be a
bitch.”

He gave her a sharp look. “Don't cuss.
It's not something I can tolerate in a woman.”

This was news to her. As a rule she
wasn't one to spew out foul language but the occasional slip now
and then was only natural. The cons on her Drew list were starting
to outnumber the pros.

Kylie angled toward the kitchen. “I'll
load the dishwasher, then I'm out of here.” She carried their
plates to the sink and started to scrape them when Drew folded his
arms around her in a too tight hug from behind, murmuring in her
ear, “C'mon Kylie, let's have a little rumble in the sack. It will
relax you, I guarantee it.”

She tried to move away but his arms
tightened like steel bands, trapping her.