A baby.
His baby. Not mine.
My ex-fiancée.
I almost turned around and bolted.
Would I ever get used to it?
To them?
I was already exhausted, and the night had just started. “Izzy, I take it this is all you?” I leaned in and pressed a kiss to each cheek.
She didn’t let me get away without a hug.
Ever since the beginning of her pregnancy she’d been emotional. She’d even called me, bawling and apologizing—yet again—for everything during the coma.
I told her I forgave her.
And I did.
But that didn’t mean it was easy to hug her then return her to my brother.
“Bridge.” I shook his hand.
He too pulled me in for a hug, then whispered in my ear, “They locked all exits, I checked.”
I laughed. “She actually let you out of her sight?”
He glared. “I can be stealthy.”
Izzy rolled her eyes. “Easily defeated, both of you. Now, go inside, sip some champagne and—” Her eyes lit up. “Actually don’t go inside. Julian, count to three and turn around.”
“Izzy, swear to me you didn’t get a giant cake with a person in it.” I groaned.
Bridge’s eyebrows shot up. “Not a giant cake.”
Izzy beamed. “Before you get mad at me for meddling . . . know that I didn’t even have to convince her.”
“Her?”
“Three seconds is over, bro.” Bridge grinned just as someone tapped me on the shoulder.
Slowly I turned, and then I nearly had a heart attack on the stairs.
“Keaton.” Stunned, I gaped at her as though I’d never seen an attractive woman before. Her golden hair cascaded in loose waves around her heart-shaped face. Her big blue eyes were lined with the barest hint of makeup, and her lips were a bright hot pink that instantly made me hard, because I suddenly associated bright pink with her underwear and ripping them off. Her white off-the-shoulder dress was so pretty I was afraid to touch it—to touch her.
“Hi.” Her smile was shy.
I wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss her.
I wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked.
I wanted to ask her if she regretted the cabin.
“Keaton! Beautiful! Turn around. Who are you wearing?” Media shouted louder for her than they had for any of us, and I knew if I kissed her, touched her, did anything that would show that I’d seen her naked—that I wanted to see more—they would have a field day.
I reached for her instinctively and didn’t miss the flinch on her face as she turned away.
Rejection slammed into me. It’s not like I was going to maul her on the stairs. I was going to kiss her cheek and tell her she was beautiful. Instead, one slight move from her was all it took to ruin the entire night and remind me yet again what people thought of me. What she thought of me.
Julian Tennyson, bad boy of the finance world, did not touch pure Hollywood royalty. Lesson fucking learned.
Keaton looked over her shoulder and waved while people screamed louder and then faced me again. “Happy birthday, by the way.”
“Thank you.” I was just about to offer her my arm when a man I didn’t recognize walked up and grabbed her hand.
Seriously? I can’t even kiss her cheek and this bastard gets to touch her? My eyes narrowed into tiny slits. I’d never been the kind of guy that resorted to violence to get what I wanted—I had too much money to need to.
But right then? I was ready to shove him down the stairs.
“Sorry I’m late, K. It was madness getting in here.” He bent over and kissed her cheek then faced me with a wide, way-too-attractive-to-be-touching-her smile. “Hey! Happy birthday. You Julian or Bridge?”
I couldn’t keep my lips from pressing into an irritated line as I shook his hand and looked between them. “Julian.”
Defeat didn’t even cover it.
“Well, thanks for inviting us, this is great publicity for Keaton’s new charity, and I think it will—”
She elbowed him. “Don’t mind Rob. His sole focus is business.”
“Like someone else we all know.” Izzy laughed softly. “So Rob . . .” Bless her, she glided right in, took his hand, and led him into the building. “What is it you do?”
Bridge followed, leaving me and Keaton. I held out my hand and she hesitated, briefly looking uncomfortable as people shouted questions about us being together.
And that was when it hit me.
She didn’t want people to assume anything about us.
I wasn’t a man she would be proud to have on her arm, was I?
I’d never been a dirty secret until that moment.
And I’d never felt so low in my entire life, not even when I woke up from that coma. Not when I saw my brother and my fiancée kiss.
Nothing compared to the pain I had in my chest when Keaton looked at the media before tentatively grabbing my hand like she was afraid touching my skin would transfer all my sins to her.