Читать книгу Brides, Babies And Billionaires - Мишель Смарт, Rebecca Winters - Страница 38

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CALLIE TRIED TO KEEP a neutral expression on her face as she looked up at the place where Blake lived.

The house was a combination of brick and glass, with brown frames outlining the doors and windows. A deck on the upper level of the house overlooked a vast estate, including a small pond that Callie could see from where she was standing outside his car. She walked forward, caught a glimpse of the city lights, and imagined that standing on his deck would be quite an experience.

When Blake had unlocked the large oak door he stepped aside for her to walk past and her neutral expression gave way to a jaw-drop.

Brick walls, wooden furniture and sparks of green were scattered across the living room in a design that screamed warmth. A fireplace was the focal point of the room—and rightly so, she thought as she took in its impressive design, and then walked through the room to a passage that opened onto the kitchen and dining room.

The kitchen space was huge, and had the same homely yet modern design as the living room. Granite counters were highlighted by pops of colour and a window looked out onto a garden that made her salivate. The dining room was more elegant—wooden floors and a black dining room set that was decked out with cutlery and crockery that looked incredibly expensive.

‘This is not what I expected from you.’

‘Did you think I lived in a cold black and white room?’ He smirked as he said it, but his eyes grew serious when she nodded.

‘Something like that. This is a lot more...inviting than I expected.’

He looked around, as though seeing it for the first time. ‘It is, isn’t it? Though it’s wasted on me. I’ve barely spent any time here, and the decor was pretty much left to the interior designer I hired.’

‘Perhaps they decorated according to what they thought the house needed instead of thinking about its owner.’

He narrowed his eyes. ‘I’m not sure if you just complimented me or insulted me.’

She laughed, and felt a bit of the tension of the day leave her. ‘I was only agreeing with you that this house needs to be somewhere people are invited to.’ She ran a hand over the kitchen counter. ‘It deserves a family.’

The words felt fatalistic as she said them, and although she knew why it felt that way for her, she wasn’t sure what the expression on Blake’s face meant.

Then it cleared and he smiled. ‘Well, you haven’t seen the second floor, where I spend most of my time. It’s a lot colder than this.’

He winked and she laughed.

‘Now, shall we have some supper?’

She nodded, and settled back on a bar stool at the kitchen counter. Though she wanted to offer her help, there was something about watching him go through the motions of making a meal that helped soothe the turmoil inside her. She also wanted to speak, to tell him of all that was going through her head, but she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt what seemed surprisingly easy for him. So she just sat and watched him—watched as he spiced the meat, seared it in a pan, and popped it into the oven.

He took out two wine glasses, poured a liberal amount of wine into each, and handed a glass to her.

‘Now, will you tell me what’s happening in that head of yours?’

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, but she didn’t look him in the eye.

‘Callie, come on. You and I both know you’ve been distracted today. We promised each other we would be open.’

She looked up at him when he paused, and felt alarm go through her as he clenched his teeth.

‘If this is because of Julia, then—’

‘What?’ she exclaimed, and then she placed her wine down and walked around the counter until she was in front of him. She brushed the piece of hair he should really have cut out of his face and kept her hand on his cheek for a moment. ‘No, Blake. This isn’t about Julia—or you.’

He took her hands and squeezed. ‘Then what’s wrong?’

She bit her lip and then she said, very softly, ‘Connor is going to be a father.’

* * *

Blake felt his eyebrows lift, and then carefully rearranged his features. ‘And that’s a bad thing?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

She walked back around the counter, and Blake thought it might be symbolic, somehow, her placing an obstacle between them.

‘I mean, it isn’t the best thing that could happen to him right now, what with our jobs being on the line and him only knowing his girlfriend for six months...’

This time Blake didn’t try to hide his surprise, and Callie grinned at him.

‘That’s not like the man you thought you knew so well, is it?’

‘No, it isn’t.’ He looked up at her, and saw something in her eyes that prompted him to ask, ‘Or is it?’

‘I’m beginning to think it is.’

She lifted her wine glass slowly, not meeting his eye. And when she did, he saw a flash of pain that quickly settled into something he couldn’t quite identify.

‘I mean, not the getting-a-girl-pregnant thing. But the baby...’ She trailed off. ‘I think it helped Connor cope with my parents’ deaths when he had to help me.’

‘What do you mean?’

She looked at him, then sighed. ‘Should we be making a salad, or something else to go with the steak?’

He didn’t respond, recognising her ploy, but walked to the fridge and started removing vegetables. He was glad he had made a visit to the shop the day before—he’d wanted steak and his conscience had guilted him into buying the ingredients for a salad. He’d have to do it more often if Callie visited regularly.

And then he stopped, remembering her earlier words about his house needing family, and something nudged at him. But he forced it away and handed her cherry tomatoes and an avocado to cut. Before he knew it—and, he thought, before she was ready—they were done.

‘Nothing left to distract you now,’ he said, and laid a hand on her cheek. ‘Tell me.’

She sighed again, walked back around the counter and sat down. Then she spoke without looking at him. ‘I just mean that family has always meant something to Connor. To both of us, really, but to him most of all. And when our parents died they left a void that we both felt.’ She paused. ‘I thought that we’d filled it for one another. But I think this baby is going to do it for him.’

Blake watched her as she spoke. Her shoulders were tight, and he realised that she was embarrassed by what she was saying. Suddenly it clicked.

‘And you’re going to be left alone?’

She didn’t look up at him, but he thought he saw a tear roll down her cheek.

‘Yeah, that’s it. Except that admitting it makes me sound selfish.’

Before she had finished speaking Blake pulled her into his arms. He wanted to comfort her—needed to, perhaps—because he was feeling less and less comfortable with what she was saying and he wasn’t sure why. So he focused on her, and said what he thought she needed to hear.

‘Callie, I know that Connor helped you get through your parents’ deaths. And you have every right to be grateful to him for that. But he isn’t the reason you got through it.’ He leaned back so he could look into her eyes. ‘You are.’

She blinked, and two more tears escaped from her eyes. ‘Connor did help me get through my parents’ deaths.’ She said it slowly, deliberately, as though trying to convince him of the fact.

‘I know he did. But just because he helped you, it doesn’t mean he’s the reason you made it through.’

He repeated it, stopping only to check how his words were affecting her.

‘Callie, when you told me about how you dealt with everything you said that you were the one who became interested in your job. You chose to start interacting with the guests. You were the one who took the initiative to start tours. Connor could never have forced you to do it, even if he’d waited outside your house every single day for a year.’

He stopped, trying to gauge whether she was taking it in.

‘I know Connor is important to you, and that the two of you have been through a lot together, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do it alone. Besides, you won’t be alone.’

She looked up at him now, and the hope in her eyes knocked him in the gut.

‘I mean, I don’t think Connor won’t be there for you any more just because he’s having a baby.’ He said the words quickly, for reasons he didn’t want to examine. Not when they were so entwined with feelings he couldn’t explain. The hope in her eyes was quickly dimmed, and although he knew he had spoken in response to that hope its extinguishment disappointed him.

‘Yeah, maybe you’re right,’ she said, and was quiet as she waited for him to dish up.

And even though the meal was one of his favourites to make on the rare occasions he was at home, he didn’t taste it. His thoughts were too busy with why he had tried to back out of the support he wanted to offer her.

‘I think I forgot that Connor’s baby will be my family, too.’

Callie spoke softly, and dragged him from his thoughts. Her expression was pensive, but when she met his eyes there was a sparkle there that had been missing the entire day.

‘I’ve been thinking selfishly all day.’

‘Your reaction was completely normal. You weren’t being selfish.’

‘Maybe normal, but definitely selfish.’

She smiled at him, and his lips curved in response. ‘Maybe just a little.’

She laughed lightly, cut another piece from her steak, and then looked at him. ‘You’re the first person who’s ever made me feel like it’s okay to be alone. Or that I might have helped myself get out of my depression. Thank you.’

Her words were so sincere that they ripped at his heart, and immediately he felt like a fraud. He didn’t deserve her gratitude when he couldn’t even tell her that he would be there for her. When her simple comments about family had frozen him up.

‘You’re welcome.’

They ate the rest of their meal in silence, each lost in thought, and when they were done she ran the water for washing the dishes. He sat back, watching her as she pulled plates into the soapy water, rinsed them, and then placed them on the dish rack. Slowly, almost without realising it, he began to picture her there after a long day at work.

He could almost see the rain outside the window above where she was washing up, could hear the fire roaring in the living room. He even saw himself walking to her and offering a hand, drawing her close to him as he touched her stomach, where she was carrying their child...

‘You know, I think before today I hadn’t thought about family outside of my parents and brother. But it’s nice to think that we could expand.’

He was ripped out of his fantasy, felt his heart racing faster than he’d thought possible. ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’ She turned to him and her expression softened. ‘Wasn’t your time with Brent good?’

His heart still pounded as he answered her. ‘Yes, it was.’

‘I thought so.’ She nodded, and started washing again. ‘Connor’s going to be an amazing father. And being an aunt won’t be so bad.’

It was almost as though she was thinking out loud.

‘I’ll get to practise for when I have my own kids one day. Ha! I hadn’t even thought about having my own family until now.’

‘Do you want to have a family?’ he asked, before he could stop himself. He didn’t think he would have been able to stop himself even if he’d had the chance. Not when he still saw that picture of her pregnant in their house—no, his house—vividly in his mind.

She turned around and wiped her hands with a dry cloth. ‘Yeah—yeah, I think I do.’ She tilted her head and said, ‘It’s our legacy, I guess.’ She smiled at him. ‘Building on the foundation of family that our parents gave us.’

The words hit him right in the stomach, and finally he realised what it was that was bothering him. Family. The word that described his biggest disappointments. And now, he thought in panic, his biggest fear.

‘Callie, do you mind if I take you home?’ he asked, and ignored the voice in his head that called him a coward. ‘It’s getting late and I still have a couple of things to do before our next proposal tomorrow.’

‘Um...okay—sure,’ she said, and his heart clenched when he saw her bewildered expression.

He helped her with the dishes in silence as he tried to work through the thoughts in his head. He wanted it. Family. With Callie. Never before had he felt a need more intense. Never before had he seen something this clearly. But he’d lost things before. Things that hadn’t meant nearly as much to him. And those things had nearly broken him.

Like Brent, he thought as they made their way to the car. He’d loved that boy more than he’d thought he could, and his heart was still raw from not being near him. And like his parents, who had both, in their own way, left him. He fought the memories of those heartbreaks every day, still carried the scars of them with him.

More so than he had realised, he thought, remembering his conversation with Callie on the boat when she had pointed it out to him.

If somehow this didn’t work out between them—if, for some reason, Callie left him—he knew he wouldn’t be able to go on as though nothing had happened. No, he would be a broken man. And she would carry the pieces of him with her, so that he would never be able to put himself together again.

And even if she didn’t leave he would risk disappointing her. He knew nothing about family. Nothing about the foundation she spoke of—her legacy. He didn’t have much to contribute to that. His mother had left him and his father was more business partner than parent.

It didn’t matter that he wanted to be a part of her life, he thought sadly, and it didn’t matter that he wanted to have a family with her. What mattered was that he would fail her—just as he had Brent. And he knew that it would kill him if he failed her. And more importantly, he realised, it would devastate him to hurt her like that.

‘Hey, what’s going on?’ she said softly, taking one of his hands.

Blake turned to her and realised that he had pulled up in front of her driveway. He wondered when that had happened.

‘Nothing,’ he answered, feeling his heart hurting from the lie, but knowing it was for the best.

The only way to avoid disappointing, failing or hurting her—and himself—was to put some distance between them. And, though it killed him, that meant not talking to her about the way he felt. Not when he still needed to figure out what to do about it.

‘Really?’ she scoffed. ‘So we’ve been sitting here for ten minutes for you to think about nothing?’

He resisted the urge to tell her what was wrong, and forced himself to think about the look on Brent’s face the last time Blake had seen him. The memory of the mixture of emotions in the little boy’s eyes—especially the heartbreak—helped him steel his heart.

He never wanted to see that expression on Callie’s face.

‘It’s just been a long day, that’s all.’

She looked at him for a while, and then moved her hands to her lap. ‘So, is this “being open” you reminded me of earlier something that only I have to follow?’

Though his heart tightened at the emotion in her voice, he ignored it. He was doing the only thing that would protect both of them. ‘Look, there really isn’t anything going on. I’ve just had a long day, and I still need to get things done. I was thinking about that.’ He tried to smile, but knew he was failing miserably at it.

‘Fine. If that’s what you’re going with.’

She picked up her bag and got out of the car, but the tiny moment of relief Blake felt was shattered when she slammed the door shut.

‘Callie.’

He got out quickly, not knowing what he could say—not when he wanted space to think about everything—yet he needed her to be okay with him.

‘Please.’

She stopped on the first step of the path up to her house and then turned to him. He knew the hurt in her eyes was a picture that would stay with him through the night.

‘Look, if you need time to work through whatever’s going on, that’s fine. But don’t lie to me about it.’

He walked towards her, but stuffed the hands that itched to take hers into his pockets.

‘Okay.’ He paused, then exhaled slowly. ‘I need time.’

She nodded. ‘Okay.’ She kissed his cheek and walked to her house, shutting the door after a slight wave.

And for a long time afterwards Blake stood outside her house, thinking about the choice he needed to make and why he needed to make it.