“Mick. Out.” She pointed, authority ringing in her voice. In spite of the situation, or maybe because of it, she sounded sexy. “Close the door behind you. Please and thank you.”
Mick wasn’t happy about it, but he went. Landon started to put Kimber’s gift on the couch, but the cushions were already littered with Babies ‘R’ Us bags.
What the hell?
Had they gone baby shopping together? Landon suddenly felt like he’d been missing some major component. Was it possible the baby she carried wasn’t his? Possible that she’d been pregnant before they’d slept together? Or worse. Maybe she’d always wanted a child and had rigged the condom to—
“Would you stop jumping to a hundred different conclusions and let me explain?” she asked.
He turned to find her arms crossed over her chest. Miffed that she’d read his mind, he mirrored her posture. Fine. He’d let her explain.
She pointed at the bag in his hand. “Is that for me?”
“Yes.” He held fast.
A slightly bemused smile lit her lips like this wasn’t a big deal. But it was a huge deal. Enormous. He took in her simple, patterned dress, weathered leather bracelets, and sandals. She looked pretty today, inviting and familiar. And like that, his heart softened to room temperature butter. Wait. No. He was angry.
“My mother bought this stuff for me,” she explained. “I drove to Osborn yesterday morning to tell her in person. She’s excited, by the way.”
Very angry, he reminded himself, keeping his expression stony.
“I got home a few minutes ago and I couldn’t carry all this stuff up the back stairs so I asked for Mick’s help.”
Some of his anger dissipated. That sounded… reasonable. “And the kiss?” He hated to ask, for fear of the answer. But he deserved an explanation.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. He kissed me. I was taking a clip out of his hair.” She still held it. She opened and closed the plastic jaws before resting the clip on the kitchen counter. “I think he has some sort of misguided, innate male protectiveness. He didn’t want to be a part of my life when it was just him and me. And, more importantly, I don’t want him.”
Her words hovered in the air, and he waited for her to say I want you or some other proclamation that would make him feel like less of a cuckold. That he felt this way at all made him want to hit something, and he wasn’t a violent guy. Though wrapping his hands around Mick’s skinny neck would make him feel better.
With a gentle touch, she loosened his fingers around the handle and took the bag out of his hand. He let her, watching silently as she set it aside. Before he could remind himself he was still upset with her, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and her scent looped his brain. Not the cucumber fragrance he’d grown accustomed to, but something tangy and sweet, and one hundred percent Kimber. “Thank you for the present.”
“You haven’t opened it yet,” he said rigidly. He was still sulking, but he really hadn’t liked the way Mick had touched her. The way he’d kissed her. Like he was staking a claim on her. Or because Mick had kissed her before? Yes. That pissed him off most of all.
“I don’t care what it is. It’s from you,” Kimber said sweetly. “I’m sorry about Mick.”
The slide of her silky dress beneath his palms did wonders to lower his blood pressure. He’d missed her over the past few days, but had resisted calling more than the one time. He wanted to give her some space to think. Give himself some space to think. What he’d figured out during his alone time was that he wanted her and this baby in his life more often than not. Like all the time.
She was lucky he hadn’t slipped an engagement ring in with her gift. But even he wasn’t that stupid.
“I wish you’d kiss me,” she murmured, closing in on him and wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. “I miss you.”
Predictably, he caved at her request. But first… Palm cupping her jaw, he swiped his thumb across her lips. Knowing what he was doing, and why, she scrubbed her mouth with the back of her hand before smiling up at him.
Landon took her lips captive, the kiss starting sweet and edging into wet, wild territory in a manner of seconds. All of their kisses had been like this one. Hot. Ferocious. Combustible. His jealousy melted into the need to claim her. He spied a bed on the other side of the room and backed her toward it, careful to sidestep the stroller—a stroller, too?—and other bags littered around the room.
At the bed, she sat, then fell back. “I’m exhausted.”