Читать книгу Pregnant By The Maverick Millionaire - Joss Wood - Страница 8

Two

“Whose stupid idea was this?”

Kade Webb scowled at his two best friends and rolled his shoulders under his suit jacket, wishing he was anywhere but in the crowded, over-perfumed bar area of Taste, one of the best restaurants in Vancouver. He’d spent most of last night reading P&L statements and had spent a long, tedious morning with Josh Logan’s hard-ass agent negotiating a deal to buy the hotshot wing, and all he wanted was to plant himself behind his messy desk and make a dent in his paperwork. He was trying to finalize their—his, Mac’s and Quinn’s—partnership with old man Bayliss, Wren’s grandfather, so the four of them could make a solid counteroffer to buy the Mavericks franchise before Vernon’s widow sold it to Boris Chenko, a Russian billionaire who owned a string of now generic sports franchises.

Kade didn’t have the time to socialize. To play nice.

What he really wanted, despite it only being noon, was a cold beer, a long shower and some hot sex. Or, to save time, some long, hot sex in a shower. Since he hadn’t had time to date lately the hot sex would have to be a solo act later—how sad, too bad—but really, he’d give it all up, sex included, for a solid eight hours of sleep.

He was burning the candle at both ends and somewhere in the middle, as well.

“Will you please take that scowl off your face?”

Kade looked down into the face of his newly appointed director of public relations and wondered, for the hundredth time, why there was no sexual attraction between him and Wren. She was gorgeous, slim, vivacious and smart, but she didn’t rock his boat. He didn’t rock hers, either. They were friends, just like he was with Mac’s new fiancée, Rory, and for the first time in Kade’s life he was enjoying uncomplicated female relationships.

That being said, he still wouldn’t say no to some uncomplicated sex.

“Kade, concentrate!” Wren slammed her elbow into his side and he pulled his attention back to business.

“Your guests of honor, the main sponsors, should be arriving any minute and you need to pay them some special attention,” Wren insisted, a tiny foot tapping her only indication of nervousness.

“Who are they again?”

Frustration flashed in Wren’s blue eyes and Kade held up his hands in apology. “Wren, I’ve been dealing with player negotiations and your grandfather as our new partner, and fending off Myra’s demands for us to make a counteroffer. Sponsors for this ball haven’t been high on my priority list.”

“Did you read any of the memos I sent you?”

Kade shrugged. “Sorry, no. But you can tell me now and I’ll remember.”

He had a phenomenal memory. It was a skill he acquired as a child hopping from town to town and school to school following the whims of his artist father. Within a day of arriving in a new place, he’d find a map and memorize the street names so he’d know exactly where he was at all times. He’d felt emotionally lost so often that being physically lost was going a step too far. His memory helped him catch up with schoolwork and remember the names of teachers and potential friends, so he could ease his way through another set of new experiences.

Wren ran through the list of the bigger donations and then said, “The Forde Gallery donated one of your father’s paintings, a small watercolor but pretty.”

Jeez, he remembered when his father had to swap paintings for food or gas or rent money. Even his small paintings now went for ten grand or more... It was a hell of a donation.

“We have dinners on yachts, holidays, jewelry, the usual bits and pieces businesses donate. The item that will be the most fun and will get the crowd buzzing is the matchmaking service...”

“The what?”

“Brodie Stewart and Colin Jones are providing their matchmaking services. The winners, one girl and one guy, will be matched up and sent on three dates to find a potential mate. Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?”

Brodie Stewart? His Brodie? The girl who’d kissed like a dream but who’d bailed on him before they got to the bedroom?

“It sounds like hell.” Kade managed to utter the response even though his mind was filled with memories of Brodie, dark hair spilling over her shoulders as she lay against his chest, bright green eyes languid and dreamy after one spectacular hot, wet kiss. He dimly recalled her saying something about her having her own business but why did he think she was in consulting?

“Is she attending this lunch?” Kade asked and hoped Wren, or his friends, didn’t hear the note of excitement in his voice.

“You know this Brodie person?” Quinn demanded. And there was the problem with being friends with someone for so damn long. There was little you could get past them.

“Not really,” Kade replied, sounding bored.

“Let me give you a hint about your boss, Wren,” Mac stated, his arm around Rory’s waist. “When he lies he always sounds disinterested, faraway, detached.”

Unfortunately, being in love hadn’t affected Mac’s observational skills and he was as sharp as ever. “Shut the hell up, McCaskill, you have no idea what you are talking about. I met Brodie once, a while ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about her?” Quinn demanded, unsatisfied.

“Do you tell me about the women you meet?” Kade responded.

Quinn thought for a moment before grinning. “Pretty much, yeah. And if I don’t tell you, then the press will.”

Kade pulled a face. The society pages of their local papers and many internet sites devoted far too much time speculating about their love lives. Mac had provided a break for Kade and Quinn as the media devoured the news that he was settling down with the lovely Rory, but recently they’d restarted their probing inquiries about the state of his and Quinn’s love lives. Many of the papers hinted, or outright demanded, it was time the other two “Maverick-teers” followed Mac’s example.

Kade felt that he would rather kiss an Amazonian dart frog.

Only Mac and Quinn knew his past, knew about his unconventional upbringing as the son of a mostly itinerant artist who dragged him from place to place and town to town on a whim. They understood his need to feel financially secure and because they worked together, invested together and always stuck together, the three of them, along with Wren’s grandfather, were in the position to buy their beloved hockey team, the Vancouver Mavericks.

Yeah, he might be, along with Quinn, a wealthy, eligible and elusive bachelor, but he had every intention of staying that way. Legalities and partnership agreements and a million miles of red tape—and his belief in the loyalty of his friends—had allowed him to commit to his career with the Mavericks, formerly as a player and now as the CEO and, hopefully, as a future co-owner. But a personal commitment? Hell no.

He’d learned that hard lesson as a child. As soon as he found someone to love—a dog, a friend, a teacher, a coach—his father would rip it away by packing up their lives and moving them along. Emotional involvement sent Kade backward to his powerless childhood.

He’d hated that feeling then and he loathed it now. His theory was if you didn’t play in a rainstorm, then you wouldn’t get hit by lightning. He made damn sure the women he dated had no expectations, that they thoroughly understood he was a here-now-gone-tomorrow type of guy. That they shouldn’t expect anything from him.

Despite his up-front attitude, there were always women who thought they could change his mind so he’d still had to ease himself out of situations. Sometimes he managed it with charm, sometimes he had to be blunt, but when he sensed his lovers were becoming emotionally invested, he backed off. Way, way off.

Brodie Stewart was the only woman who’d ever turned the tables on him, who’d backed away before he could. Backed away before he’d even gotten her into bed.

“...she had all the emotional depth of a puddle!”

Kade pulled his attention back to the conversation and caught the tail end of Rory’s comment. She was scowling at Quinn and he looked unrepentant, being his bad-boy self.

“Honey, I wasn’t dating her for her conversational skills,” Quinn stated.

Rory shook her head and rested her chin on Mac’s shoulder. “One day you are going to meet someone who you can’t resist and I hope she gives you hell,” Rory said, her tone and expression fierce.

“Rorks, unfortunately butt-face here claimed you before I did so I am destined to be a free spirit.” Quinn put his hand on his heart, his eyes laughing.

Rory, smart girl that she was, didn’t fall for Quinn’s BS. Instead, she poked Quinn’s stomach. “You will meet her and I will not only laugh while I watch you run around her like a headless chicken, I will encourage her to give you as much trouble as possible.” She stretched past Quinn to jab Kade in the stomach. “That goes for you, too, Kade. The female population of Vancouver has spoiled you two rotten.”

“I’m not complaining.” Kade smiled, taking a sip of his lime-flavored water.

“Me neither,” Quinn quickly agreed. He stuck his tongue in his cheek as he continued to tease Rory. “And I don’t think we’ve been spoiled—we’ve been treated as per our elevated status as hockey gods.”

“That just shows how moronic some women can be,” Rory muttered. She looked up at Mac and narrowed her eyes. “You’re very quiet, McCaskill. Got anything to say?”

Mac dropped a kiss on her forehead and another on her mouth. “Hell no! This is your argument with my friends. But, since I am taking you home and hoping to get lucky, I’ll just agree with everything you say.”

Quinn made the sound of a cracking whip and Kade rolled his eyes before he said, “Wimp.”

“You might wear the trousers but Rory picks them out,” Quinn added and immediately stepped back to lessen the impact of Mac’s big fist smacking his shoulder. “May I point out that before Rory snagged you, you were—”

“No, you absolutely may not.” Wren’s cool voice interrupted their smack talk. “Can you three please act like the responsible, smart businessmen that people—mistakenly I might add—think you are and behave yourselves? The first sponsor has arrived.”

Kade didn’t need Wren’s nod toward the ballroom to tell him Brodie had arrived. He’d felt the prickle of anticipation between his shoulder blades, felt the energy in the room change. He was super aware of her. As he slowly turned, he felt the world fade away.

She hadn’t changed, yet...she had. It had only been six months, but somehow she was a great deal more attractive than he remembered. Her dress hugged a toned body and her long black hair was now a short, feathery cap against her head. What definitely hadn’t changed was her ability to send all his blood rocketing south to a very obvious and inconvenient place.

“Well, well, well...isn’t this interesting?” Mac drawled in Kade’s ear.

“First time I’ve seen our boy gobsmacked, dude,” Quinn added. “Shut your mouth, boyo, you’re drooling.”

Kade ignored his friends. Life had unexpectedly dropped Brodie back into his realm again and he wanted what he’d always wanted every time he’d laid eyes on her: Brodie in his bed, under him, naked and legs around him...eyes begging for him to come on in.

Her perfume reached him before she did and he realized it was the same scent he remembered. It took him straight back to those early-morning runs in the park, to crisp air and the hesitant smile of the black-haired girl who waited for him by the running store and kept up with his fast pace along the seawall. He hadn’t run in the park since the morning he’d heard about Vernon’s death.

And kissed Brodie.

It had been an incredible kiss and the one highlight of a couple of really tough, horrible months. If only he had the memory of taking her to bed, too...

So it turned out he didn’t want long, hot sex with any random woman. He wanted to make love to Brodie. Interesting.

Crazy.

And pretty damn dangerous. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—allow her to know the effect she had on him, how he instantly craved her and the crazy chemical reaction he was experiencing. It wasn’t clever to admit she was the only woman he’d ever encountered who could thoroughly disconcert him, who could wipe every rational thought from his brain.

Okay, he was officially losing it. Maybe it was time, as Wren had suggested, he started acting like the CEO he was supposed to be.

With anyone else, he could do it with his eyes closed. Around Brodie, he might have to put his back into it.

So here goes...

* * *

Brodie held out her hand to Kade and hoped her smile wasn’t as shaky as she felt. “Kade, it’s been a while.”

“Brodie.” Kade took her hand and she held his eyes even though her pulse skittered up her arm and straight to her belly. She met his eyes and felt her heart roll over, as it always did. She knew his eyes were a deep brown but today, against his olive complexion and dark blond hair, they glinted black.

Oh, this wasn’t good. He was a sexy man. They’d kissed but that wasn’t enough of a reason for her hormones to start doing their crazy dance. She looked down at their intertwined hands and could easily remember what his tanned fingers felt like on her back, his wide hand sliding over her butt, his lips on hers...

Dammit, Brodie!

Kade touched her elbow and gestured to his friends. Hot, hot and steamin’. Brodie wanted to fan herself. Quinn Rayne was the ultimate sexy bad boy, Mac McCaskill was even better looking—if that was possible—after falling in love with the attractive woman tucked into his side, and Kade...? Why, with him looking as fantastic as he did, the urge to jump him and do him on the nearest table was nearly overwhelming.

This was the problem with Kade Webb, Brodie reminded herself. He had the ability to turn her from a woman who considered all the angles into a wild child who acted first and regretted later. She hadn’t made an impulsive decision for nearly a decade and yet, around him, that was all she seemed to do! For weeks she’d met him in the park as the sun rose. Then she’d accompanied him home, kissed him senseless and been so tempted to make love to him. Around him, impulsive was her new middle name.

Stewart, start acting like the adult you are!

Immediately!

Pulling herself together, Brodie greeted Kade’s friends, kissed Wren hello and looked, and sounded, like the professional she normally was.

Quinn smiled at her. Whoo boy, it was a potent grin and she could easily imagine girls falling like flies at his feet. That smile should be registered as a weapon of mass destruction, but Brodie caught the wariness in his eyes and the intelligence he hid behind his charm. “So, you’re Brodie.”

“I am.”

“And you’re a matchmaker.”

“I am.” Brodie tipped her head, assessing him. “Would you like me to find you someone?”

She had to smile when Quinn flushed and sent a help-me look at his friends. Since Quinn’s exploits, mostly in love, kept Vancouver entertained on a weekly basis, she knew he had no problem finding a date. Finding a partner was a very different story.

“You know, most of my clients don’t have any problems meeting women and they often date a variety of women.”

Quinn frowned. “So why do they need you?”

“Because they are dating the wrong type of women. They want to be in a relationship,” Brodie patiently explained. “Do you want to be in a relationship, Mr. Rayne?”

She was taking the circuitous route to find out what she desperately wanted to know: would Kade be bidding for her matchmaking services? The thought of matching him to any of Colin’s clients made her stomach roil. Colin’s clients were wonderful women, but Brodie thought the ick factor was a bit too high to match her fantasy man with a flesh-and-bone woman.

She’d rather pick her eyes out with a cake fork.

“Hell no! And why am I the focus of attention?” Quinn complained. “Kade is as much of a lone wolf as me!”

Brodie lifted an eyebrow in Kade’s direction, as if to say “Are you?” He immediately read her question and responded with an inscrutable smile.

Brodie looked around, her eyes falling on the honey blonde surgically attached to Mac’s side. Rory’s look was speculative, bouncing from Quinn to Kade and back again. Brodie recognized her assessing, mischievous look. This was a woman wanting to cause trouble...

Mac’s deep voice broke her train of thought. “Your hands are empty, Brodie. What would you like to drink? Wine? A soda?”

A small glass of wine couldn’t hurt, could it? “I’d love a glass of Tangled Vine Chardonnay.”

Rory tipped her head and looked at Quinn. “Is that the wine you brought over the other night? It was seriously yummy.”

Quinn nodded. “I’ll bring a case over tonight. What’s for supper?”

“Risotto. Troy is joining us tonight,” Rory replied.

Mac looked appalled. “We’re having them for supper again? Troy I don’t mind, but these two? Babe, they are like rats, if you keep feeding them, we are never going to get rid of them.”

“Kade and I are the rats,” Quinn told Brodie, smiling. He lifted a huge shoulder. “What can I say? She’s a good cook.”

Brodie looked into Mac’s eyes and noticed the amusement under his fake scowl. Yeah, he looked hard-ass and a bit scary—they all did—but she could see these men shared a bond that went beyond love. It was too easy to say they loved each other, but it was more than that; there was loyalty here and support, a deep and profound desire to make sure their “brothers” were happy. She couldn’t help feeling envious of their bond despite knowing she’d chosen her solitary state. She’d had friendships like that; bonds with Jay and Chels that couldn’t be broken by anything except death.

She still missed them, every day. She missed the people who could finish her sentences, who got her jokes. She missed the I-know-it’s-after-midnight-but-I-brought-you-pizza conversations. She missed Chelsea, missed those crazy antics—“I’m outside your window and I have a date. Toss down your lucky belt/new shoes/red lipstick/flirty dress.”

She missed Jay, the boy who knew her inside out, the man she’d just been getting to know. His sweet kisses, his endless support, his newly acquired fascination with her body. She still missed the man she thought she’d spend the rest of her life with...

She hadn’t been able to reconnect with people on that level again. She wasn’t prepared to risk heartbreak. Having her heart dented by loss and being left behind without any emotional support sucked. It stung. It burned. It made her cautious and wary. Scared.

She was very okay with being scared. “And I’m sending you a bill for the food we buy,” Mac grumbled. “Spongers.”

“Rory’s a great cook and she likes having us around. Maybe she needs a break from you,” Quinn told Mac as he took the glass of wine Kade had ordered for her off the waiter’s tray and handed it to Brodie, ignoring Kade’s scowl. “I’ll bring the wine.”

Rory grinned. “Excellent. I love that wine.”

“Might I remind you that you won’t be able to drink it for a year or so?” Mac muttered.

Rory frowned and then her expression cleared and a small, tender smile drifted across her face. She touched her stomach and Brodie immediately caught on. It took Mac’s friends seconds longer to catch up. And, judging by Quinn’s and Kade’s stunned faces, that wasn’t news they’d been expecting. But once they realized what Mac had revealed, they swept Rory into their arms for a long, emotional hug. Kade hugged Mac, as did Quinn, and Brodie felt tears prick her eyes at their joy for their friend. She stepped back, feeling she shouldn’t be here, sharing this precious, intimate moment. She half smiled when she noticed Wren doing the same thing.

Weird that Brodie seemed to be present for some of the big, personal Maverick moments. Vernon’s death, Mac’s baby... She was an outsider, on the wrong side of this magical circle, so it didn’t make sense that she was again in the position to hear something deeply personal. This time, at least, it was good news.

“This wasn’t how we planned on telling you,” Rory said, jamming her elbow into Mac’s side.

Brodie looked at Rory, who had her back to Mac’s chest, his big hands on her still very flat stomach. “Congratulations,” she murmured.

“Yeah, huge congratulations,” Kade said, before slanting a sly look at Mac. “Now you’re going to have two children under your feet, Rorks.”

“Ha-ha.” Mac scowled.

“I know, right?” Rory replied, her voice wobbly. “I’m going to be a mommy, Kade.”

“You’ll be great at it,” Kade assured her and tipped his head at Mac. “But he’ll need some training.”

“I’m not old enough to have friends who are about to be parents.” Quinn clapped Mac on the shoulder and nodded to the bar. “We definitely need champagne. I’ll get some.”

Wren shook her head and stepped forward. “As much as I hate to break up the party we have work to do and a lunch to host.”

Quinn wrinkled his nose. “Our head girl has spoken.”

Wren threaded a hand through his arm and pulled him toward the dining area. “C’mon, brat. I’ve put you at a table where you can’t misbehave.”

Brodie felt Kade’s hand on her back and she immediately, subconsciously moved closer to him, her fingers accidentally brushing the outside of his hard thigh.

Kade tipped his head and dropped his voice so only she could hear his words. “It hasn’t gone away, has it?”

Brodie wished she could deny it, dismiss his comment, but she couldn’t lie to him. Or herself. She forced herself to look him in the eye. “No.”

His fingers pushed into her back at her reluctant admission. “So, just to be clear, we’re saying this crazy attraction is still happening?”

“Yep.” One-syllable answers were all she could manage.

“So are we going to do anything about it this time?”

Wren’s efficient voice interrupted their low, intense conversation. “Kade, you’re at the main table up front. Brodie, I’ll show you to your seat.”

Brodie gave Kade a little shrug and followed Wren into the private dining room of Taste. When she tossed a look over her shoulder, she flushed when she noticed Kade was still watching her.

And he didn’t stop looking at her for the next ninety minutes.

* * *

He wanted her. The heated looks they’d exchanged over the three tables that separated them left her in no doubt of that. Jeez, it was a minor miracle the room hadn’t spontaneously combusted from the sparks they were throwing at each other.

He wanted her as much as he had six months ago, possibly more. It was insane; it was exciting.

What was she going to do about it?

She knew what he wanted, to take up where they’d left off in his loft. In the ladies’ room Brodie pulled a face at her reflection in the mirror above the bathroom sink and ran her wet fingers over the back of her neck, hoping to cool herself down but knowing it was a futile gesture. She was hot from the inside out and it was all Kade Webb’s fault.

Every look he’d sent her, every small smile, had told her he wanted her in the most basic, biblical way possible.

She was pretty sure she’d returned his message. With interest.

Brodie sighed. Having a fling with Kade wouldn’t hurt anyone. Unlike an affair with a married man it wasn’t icky, immoral or dishonest. It wouldn’t be embarrassing or hurtful. It wouldn’t—unless she did something really stupid, like fall for the guy—be painful.

She hadn’t had an affair, or sex, for a long, long time; she hadn’t been naked with a man since Jared the IT guy and he was around three, or was it four, years ago? She was nearly thirty and she was tired of dating herself.

Could she do it? Could she have a one-night stand with Kade? Was she okay with being another puck he shot into his sexual net? Brodie grimaced at her bad analogy. But could she be another of Webb’s Women?

If she was looking for a relationship, and she wasn’t because she was relationship-phobic, Kade would be the last person she’d be interested in. Brodie gripped the vanity and stared at the basin, thinking hard.

He was famous and she’d matched enough semifamous guys to know how much time and effort it took to date a celebrity. She couldn’t think of anything worse than having your life dissected on social media platforms or in the society columns, but some women got off on it.

She hadn’t considered any of this that long-ago morning when she’d agreed to coffee. Everything had moved so quickly and she’d only been thinking in terms of a couple of hours spent with him. But she had noticed that over the last six months the spotlight on Kade had become even bigger and brighter. His life was routinely dissected; his dates scrutinized. The press was relentless and easily turned a movie into a marriage proposal, a dinner into destiny.

Brodie shuddered. Yuck.

That being said, she still wanted him.

If she could go through with it this time—and that was a big if—she couldn’t ignore the fact that a quick fling with Vancouver’s most eligible, slippery bachelor could have consequences. If they did do the deed and it became public knowledge, as these things tended to do with the Mavericks, it would affect her business. She had a database of clients who trusted her, who confided in her. Quite a few of them thought she was engaged, and a liaison with Kade would not inspire her clients to trust her judgment.

Men, she’d realized, were frequently a lot more romantic—or traditional—than most woman gave them credit for. They could have affairs, play the field and have one-night stands, but they wouldn’t appreciate their matchmaker doing the same.

No, it was smarter and so much more sensible to ignore Kade’s suggestion that they continue what they’d started. Sleeping with him probably wouldn’t be as good as she imagined; she’d probably romanticized exactly how good Webb’s kissing was to excuse her crazy, uninhibited behaviour when she was alone with him. No, best to keep her distance...

Good decision, Brodie thought, eyeing her reflection in the mirror. Sensible decision.

Adult decision.

Safe decision.

So why did it feel so damn wrong?