Читать книгу Brides, Babies And Billionaires - Мишель Смарт, Rebecca Winters - Страница 88

Seven

“I take it from the expression on your face that this one’s a no, too?”

Seth was all for wood-burning stoves, but not ones that left scorch marks up a wall and dark shadows on the ceiling. “How is it possible that the house hasn’t burned down?” Even as he said, his foot hit a particularly creaky board and he hoped like hell he wasn’t about to fall through.

Kate sighed and put a hand to her lower back. “These are the houses at this price range,” she began, closing her eyes and stretching.

“Then we go up.” He had the money.

Even though Seth and his mom had lived comfortably—more than comfortably—for ten years with Billy Bolton, old habits died mighty hard. Seth had been looking at the cheaper end of homes simply because there was a part of his brain convinced that was all he should spend on a house.

That part of his brain was wrong. He could afford homes that cost four times the ones they’d spent the day staring at.

He was a partner in a wildly successful business. He had to start thinking like one. And living like one, too. Which would be good for Kate, too. A more expensive house for him would be a bigger commission for her.

He watched Kate sway as she massaged her lower back. They had walked through thirteen houses—only three of which were even remotely habitable. And she was pregnant. He had kept her on her feet all afternoon and clearly, she was tiring.

God, he was a cad. He wished he could make this easier on her. But he wasn’t going to buy a mediocre house just so she wasn’t on her feet as much.

Not that she looked pregnant. Instead, she looked lush and it took most of his willpower to keep from touching her. Her hair shone and her figure—she was a perfect hourglass. A voluptuous, decadent hourglass figure that he wanted to appreciate properly.

But he didn’t. He was a gentleman, by God. But then she made a moaning noise and what was left of his willpower went up in smoke.

He stepped in close and pushed her hands aside. This was a bad idea, and yet he settled his hands on her hips, rubbing his thumbs in circles along the small of her back, and damned if she didn’t feel right under his touch.

“Would you buy any of these houses?” he asked, trying to focus on relieving her tension instead of the way her body filled his hands.

For a long second, she didn’t respond. She held her back straight, and her arms awkwardly hung at her sides. But then he must’ve found the right spot because all of a sudden, she sighed heavily and leaned back into his touch. “I would not,” she admitted. “But my housing needs are different than yours. If I were to buy a home, it’d need to be a family home.”

“Where are you living now? Not with Roger, right?” When Seth had found her at the scenic overlook, she had made it very clear that she couldn’t go back to the place she’d shared with Roger. Seth knew that she had been at the hotel for a week—because the room had been charged to his credit card. But where she’d gone after she’d checked out, he didn’t know.

“No, not with Roger.” She sighed again, leaning back into him some more. “We... You shouldn’t...”

“Hush,” he said, closer to her ear than he should’ve been. She was right—he shouldn’t be touching her like this and certainly not in a crappy house he wasn’t going to buy. Funny how that wasn’t stopping him. “Was this the last house?”

She nodded, not pulling away as he worked at her tired muscles.

“I’m taking you to dinner. No argument,” he said quickly when she jolted. “We’ll discuss real estate things. But I’m hungry and you need to get off your feet.”

He could feel the tension in her body and there was a moment when he knew she was going to say no. And really, why had he asked? He was tired, too. He’d been sociable and chatty all afternoon and he should’ve been absolutely done with other people.

Instead, he was kneading her tired muscles and hoping she’d say yes. To dinner, that was. Nothing else.

But she wasn’t going to. He let go of her hips as she stepped away from him. When she turned, her eyes were in shadows. “Dinner?”

It wasn’t a no. He wanted to take her to an expensive place, with haute cuisine and complicated wine lists. He wanted to show her he was more than a biker, more mature than any other twenty-five-year-old. God knew he had the money now to wine and dine her. Hell, he could buy a restaurant for her if she wanted.

Suddenly, he realized he didn’t want to take her to a fancy place. Yeah, he wanted to impress her—but for some reason, it also felt important that he show her who he really was.

And who he really was, was a biker. A multimillionaire business owner, yeah—but choppers were his life. “Sure. There’s a great burger place not too far from here, but it’s whatever you want.”

She tucked her lower lip under her teeth and worried at it. The effort it took not to stare was surprising. “I should buy you dinner,” she announced. “You paid for the hotel.”

No way was that happening. “The hotel was a wedding gift. A not-wedding gift,” he corrected with a smile when she opened her mouth to argue. “Dinner’s on me. What are you in the mood for?”

He hadn’t heard a no yet—but he still hadn’t gotten a yes, either. “I’m sure you have someone you’d rather have dinner with.”

Well, wasn’t that an interesting statement? Was it possible that Kate Burroughs was jealous? It was, of course. But—jealous of who?

Then she answered the question for him. “This Julie—she’s probably waiting on you?”

Seth knew it was not a good idea to laugh at an expectant mother. He fought it as hard as he could, but he lost ground little by little. His lips twitched up and then they broke open into a wild grin and the next thing he knew, he was chuckling.

Kate looked indignant. “What’s so funny?” she demanded, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

The sight of that had Seth standing straighter at attention. “Julie’s my little sister. She just turned ten. She’s a year younger than Clara, and almost the same age as Eliza. We’re all cousins.” At this point, he couldn’t explain his family tree without a whiteboard and color-coded markers. The all-purpose designation of “cousins” would have to do. “They are a tough pack of middle-school girls. You should see them play soccer sometime—they’re brutal.”

He didn’t know what she had expected him to say, but it was pretty clear that wasn’t it. Kate’s mouth opened and then shut, her brow furrowed, then her mouth opened and shut again.

Seth smirked and took her by the elbow, leading her out of the house that might well burn down tomorrow. Gallantly, he opened the driver’s-side door and bowed her into her seat. “You have two minutes to decide if you want burgers or not. I’m hungry.”

It took less than two seconds before Kate said, “I would kill for some french fries,” in a tone of voice that made it sound like french fry cravings were a crime. “Does this place have ice cream?” she asked hopefully.

“Malts and milkshakes.”

She sighed, a noise that shot straight through him. “Burgers it is.”

* * *

In short order, they were sitting in Seth’s favorite booth at Mike’s All Night Diner. Kate looked around nervously because Mike’s was not quite a bar, but it was popular with a certain clientele. In fact, her car had been the only car in a parking lot full of bikes. But this was a family restaurant. People came here to eat. If they wanted to get drunk and brawl, there were bars for that.

“You come here often?” she asked as a guy in motorcycle leathers walked past them.

Seth shrugged. “Often enough. Don’t forget, I own part of a motorcycle company. This was normal when I was growing up.”

In fact, now that he had her here, he wasn’t sure that this was a good idea. The odds of him being recognized by one of his dad’s buddies were pretty decent and this could be an intimidating crowd. Kate stuck out worse than a thumb, sore or not, and word would probably get back to his dad.

Damn.

She really didn’t belong in a place like this. He should’ve taken her to a classy place, with linen tablecloths and snooty waiters and artistically displayed food on oddly shaped plates.

Then again, he’d been so busy since he’d officially returned to Rapid City that he hadn’t had time to catch up with the old gang. It just wasn’t a priority—not right now, anyway.

Not that he would ever admit it out loud and certainly not in a joint like this, but Seth had missed his sister and even his parents. However, the phrase “you can’t go home again” turned out not just to be a tired cliché but an absolute truth. Seth loved his family, but he didn’t fit in their household anymore.

Still, he hadn’t seen a single home today that made him want to give up his suite of rooms at the Mason Hotel. There, at least, he could come and go as he pleased, the bed was always freshly made and if he ate out too much, well, it wasn’t that different from how he’d lived in LA.

The waitress took their orders—Kate went with a chocolate shake and Seth ordered an extra side of fries. Once they were alone again, he waited.

She didn’t make him wait long. “Can I ask you a question?”

God only knew where this would go. “Of course.”

“How old are you?”

Seth notched an eyebrow at her. “Does it matter?”

He had the feeling she was older than he was—not much older, but she might be anywhere from twenty-five to her early thirties. And really, was that such a big leap from twenty-five? No. It wasn’t. It wasn’t like he was thinking improper thoughts about a grandmother, for crying out loud.

He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. It wasn’t like he was thinking improper thoughts about her at all. She was his real estate agent. The only thing that mattered between them was that she helped him find the right properties.

Yeah, right.

“No, no,” she defended weakly. “It’s just that you seem a little...old to have a sister who’s only ten.”

He couldn’t stop the smirk if he wanted to. “Technically, she’s my half sister. My mom married into the Bolton family when I was fourteen.”

He could see her doing the math in her head. It really wasn’t complicated—except, of course it was. And he still didn’t have a whiteboard to help explain the ways the Bolton half of his family overlapped with the Lakota half.

“Oh. I just assumed...”

“That I’m really a Bolton? I am—Dad adopted me. But I’m also a full-blooded member of the Pine Ridge Lakota tribe.” He hoped that was enough of an answer for her, because he didn’t want to get into his birth father, the sperm donor. Not at Mike’s, not ever.

She dropped her gaze to the table, and he saw that she was nervously twisting the straw wrapper around her fingers. Seth had a moment of panic—his heritage wasn’t going to be an issue, was it? He’d grown up on the reservation with his tribe, where he’d been loved and protected and then, when Billy had adopted him, the Bolton name—and reputation of his dad—had shielded him from the worst of the bullying off the reservation.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t know racism existed, in both subtle and overt ways. Once he’d left the rez, he’d seen how kids at his new high school had talked about other Native kids. He heard stories from his friends on the rez. And his dad had made damn sure he knew how to defend himself.

Part of that defense mechanism was not announcing his heritage until he was sure of his reception. And sometimes, that meant he never found the right time to tell a paramour before the relationship drifted away.

Within his family, his ethnicity wasn’t just accepted, it was normal. Welcomed. His dad and his uncles came to powwows and helped out at the school on the rez and had married into the tribe. They hired Seth’s uncles and cousins and friends from the rez to work in the factory. It all overlapped and blended together. Just like it had in Seth.

They’d never demanded that to be a Bolton, he had to give up being a Wawausuck. His legal name was Seth James Wawausuck Bolton. He was safe to be both, and that freedom was not something he took lightly.

It shouldn’t matter what Kate believed, really it shouldn’t. Because there was nothing more than a professional business relationship between them.

Except...

Except for the way she’d leaned into his touch as he’d rubbed circles on the small of her back. And the way she’d looked when he’d stripped the petticoat off her. And the way her entire face had lit up when he’d walked into her office—and that was before he’d told her why he was there.

Okay, it mattered, what she thought. It mattered a lot.

Kate opened her mouth just as the waitress arrived with their food and said, “Anything else?” as she unloaded enough french fries to feed an army.

Seth eyed the plates of food. Mike didn’t mess around with his burgers, and the malt was huge. There was easily enough food for five on the table, but Kate was staring at it with something that looked like devotion. “I think we’re good,” he said.

The waitress left and Seth turned his attention back to Kate. She was staring at him openly. “Is it a problem?” He wasn’t talking about the food.

“Of course not,” she said easily. But she looked worried. “It’s just...”

She picked up a fry and slid it slowly between her lips as she nibbled at the tip.

Who knew that eating french fries could be so erotic?

“You obviously have a really complex family history,” she finally said.

Seth snorted. “That doesn’t begin to cover it.” Which was not an observation that let him relax. Crap, why had he brought it up at all? Oh, right—because Kate had thought Julie was a girlfriend and it had been important to make sure Kate knew that wasn’t true.

He sighed and picked up his burger. Deep thoughts about identity and fathers could wait. “Eat, Kate. I know you’re starving.” And one fry at a time wasn’t going to make much of a dent in this meal.

They made good headway into the food. Kate ate delicately—but she ate, thank God. Finally, she said, “I’m glad you came for me at Zanger, Seth.”

“Are you?” Because there were several different ways he could interpret that statement. She might be happy about the commission, the chance to say thank you for the hotel room or...

“I’d been wondering about you,” she replied, not quite meeting his gaze.

He let that statement settle around the table as he scooted the extra fries toward her. She’d cleared her plate. “In a good way?”

She nodded. “I...” She took an especially deep breath. “Most people wouldn’t have done what you did for me.”

Which part? Depositing her safely at a hotel? Or stripping off her petticoat? “I think you underestimate people.”

That got a rueful chuckle out of her. “No, I don’t. I almost married Roger. And you haven’t even met my father. People like you are rare, Seth.” She looked at him through thick eyelashes. “You’re special. You just don’t realize it.”

That sure as hell seemed to answer at least one question. A question that set his blood to pounding in his veins.

His hands itched to settle around her waist again. She wanted special? Hell, he could show her special. Slow and tender and hot and very, very special.

He put the brakes on those thoughts—something he was doing a lot around her. She was not technically available. She was expecting and they were working together and he didn’t have any interest in being a rebound.

Well, not a lot of interest, anyway. But when she looked at him like that he had to admit that yeah, maybe he was a little interested.

“You know what I think?” he said, snagging a few more fries.

“Split-level ranches are the work of the devil?”

He snorted and damn near choked on a fry. “That, too. But seriously—I think you don’t realize how special you are.”

Her cheeks shot past a delicate blush and straight on over into red. “I’m not special. I’m a mess. You know that.”

He considered that statement. “The situation is messy, maybe. But,” he went on as she gave him an arch look, “that doesn’t make you a mess. You believe leaving Roger at the altar makes you an utter failure, and when I look at you, all I see is one of the strongest, bravest women I’ve ever met.”

She gasped, a hand covering her chest, right over her heart. “Seth...”

“No, I’m serious.” He wasn’t going to let her undermine her worth. “You walked away from a crap marriage and gave up your family business, right?”

She nodded, her eyes getting suspiciously bright.

“You know why? Because you’re going to have a baby and you’d do anything—anything—to give that child the very best life possible. To walk away from everything you know, even though you know it’s going to be hard—because it’s the right thing to do? You amaze me, Kate. You simply amaze me.”

Aw, hell. Sincere compliments were a bad idea, because now she was crying. Quiet tears slipped down her cheeks, and he couldn’t stand that.

He leaned over the table and cupped her face in his hand, swiping at her tears.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Don’t you dare take that back.” She sniffed, grabbing a napkin and dabbing at her eyes. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Wasn’t that a shame? Her former fiancé, her father—had anyone ever noticed who Kate really was?

He sat back as she took a bunch of deep breaths and got herself under control. “Sorry—hormones,” she said, giving him a watery smile.

“Don’t apologize. It was rude of me to ambush you with compliments.”

That got him a slightly less watery smile. “It was, wasn’t it?”

A strange silence settled over the table and then a movement behind Kate caught Seth’s eye. Oh, hell—it was Jack Roy, one of Billy Bolton’s oldest friends. Seth gave a friendly nod of his head to Jack, hoping the man would just keep moving without stopping.

No such luck. “Seth! Finally out and about?” Jack stood over the table, grinning down at Kate. “And who do we have here? Hello, beautiful.”

Later? Seth was going to stab the man. Repeatedly. Jack Roy was a born flirt and had the kind of face a lot of women went for. And now he was smiling down at Kate and she was blinking up at the man, stunned by the force of his smile.

“Jack,” Seth said, hearing the tension in his voice but seemingly unable to sound any more relaxed, “this is Kate Burroughs, my real estate agent. Kate,” he went on, mentally willing Jack to get the hint and leave, “this is Jack Roy, head painter at Crazy Horse.”

“And a whole lot more,” Jack murmured in a seductive voice that Seth had heard him use on every female he’d ever met.

Kate’s cheeks colored again as she dropped her gaze to the table. Crap, this was terrible. Not only was Jack interrupting just as things had gotten interesting, now the man would probably call Dad up and ask if Billy knew Seth had been having dinner with a pretty real estate agent. How much had Jack caught? Had he seen Seth cup Kate’s cheek? Or wipe away Kate’s tears?

Damn it all. Seth pivoted and launched a careful kick in the direction of Jack’s shins. The man flinched but, to his credit, didn’t even let out a stream of obscenities.

Instead, he turned that smile up to full power. “You make sure this one treats you right,” he said, a hint of steel behind his seductive voice as he nodded at Seth.

Kate’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, no—we’re just working together.”

The quick defense pricked at Seth’s pride, even if it was exactly what she should have said because it was the truth. “I’m buying a house,” he added.

By God, if Jack made some sort of crack about how Seth was all grown up and a big boy now, the man’s handsome nose would never look the same.

Jack’s mouth opened and then he closed it. “Well, then,” he said, notching a knowing eyebrow at Seth. Hopefully Kate couldn’t see it. “I’ll let you two get back to business.” He reached down and appropriated one of Kate’s hands, bowing over it. “Ms. Burroughs, it has been a true pleasure.” Then the bastard kissed her knuckles.

A rumbling noise startled everyone at the table. It was only when both Kate and Jack turned to look at Seth that he realized the noise—a growl—was coming from him.

Jack’s mouth curved into a knowing grin and Seth realized he’d walked right into Jack’s trap. The jerk had intentionally provoked Seth with that kiss.

“Jack,” Seth managed to get out without strangling the man.

“Seth—be good,” Jack said with another wink before he finally, finally left.

Seth scowled at the man’s back as he walked away. When he glanced back over at Kate, she was staring at him with what looked uncomfortably like confusion on her face.

Well, this evening was shot to hell. And he wasn’t even sure what he’d wanted before Jack had interrupted. This wasn’t a date—Kate had said so herself. This was business.

This wasn’t personal.

“Come on,” Seth said, leaving a fifty on the table. “I think we’re done here.”