He nodded, barely. A sign for her to speak.
She didn’t know where to start… “We’re going to have a baby.” There. Start with the basics. “I’m not interested in moving in with you. Or taking your money to buy Hobo Chic from Mick,” she added. “That’s something I’m saving for on my own. Something I will do on my own.” His eyebrows pinched but he remained silent, so she said the next thing on her mind. “We can share custody. We can share parenting. And I think we should make as many major decisions as we can before we have a slobbery, pink, adorable baby distracting our focus.” Bringing up their baby tightened her chest, but she swallowed down her feelings. This was for the best.
Meanwhile, his face had fallen during her mini monologue. She didn’t know if his reaction was due to her saying she wasn’t moving in with him, or more because she’d taken control of the conversation. She liked that control. Liked creating her future instead of him creating it for her. Glo was right. This was easier without lust sullying her brain.
“As far as us…” This was the hardest part. Suggesting the one thing she didn’t want to suggest. But she had to. For their child’s sake. They couldn’t raise a kid together who didn’t know where his or her parents stood. They couldn’t just keep doing what felt good and lay waste to anyone in the path between. “We can be partners in raising our child. But as far as us…” She shook her head, the words refusing to come. “We can’t…” She closed her eyes. Say it. But she didn’t have to. Landon said it for her.
“We can’t be lovers,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.
* * *
Oh, the irony.
If he wasn’t mistaken, Kimber had just suggested an arrangement. An arrangement with the Tin Man.
He’d spent his life making lists, drawing up agreements, arranging his relationships to prevent them from eking into territory beyond his control. For the first time in his life, someone was doing the same thing to him. And, for the first time in a long time, he had no control.
She wanted to categorize him, maintain an emotionless, neutral position where he was concerned. He’d be angry if he didn’t see her point of view so clearly. It’d been his view as well, at least until the redhead before him turned his world upside down. Still, he couldn’t work up the anger to storm out.
He didn’t want what she offered. He didn’t want her living here, keeping her distance from him, working with Mick. But, he amended, he could get over that part if forced. And he didn’t mind discussing and debating topics regarding their child. He wanted to talk about what would be best for their bundle of joy from birth to college—if he or she decided to go. What he did mind, what was tearing his heart in two, was her suggestion to stop seeing each other.
He wondered what she would say if she learned that for him, what they had superseded sex. That he wanted affection more than her body. Hell, he wanted both. For the second time in his lonely, miserable life, he wanted it all and couldn’t have it.
He raked a hand through his hair, closed his eyes, and tried to think of a way out of this. A way around it. He was a smart guy… normally.
If he argued, he doubted she’d welcome the disagreement. He could tell it hadn’t been easy for her to lay out how she’s feeling, and he respected her for telling him so bluntly. He supposed he could go along with what she offered for a little while, then seduce her into seeing things his way. While that would be fun, for both of them, he knew they’d wind up right back here again, at her kitchen counter or his, discussing this same topic. Only then she’d be ten times angrier. He didn’t want her to hate him.
I want her to love me.
At one point, she’d claimed to. Should he remind her of the day she laid across from him in bed? The day her eyes softened as she touched his cheek and told him under no uncertain terms “I love you”? Or had she simply been on the emotional roller coaster of did-we-or-didn’t-we-make-a-baby? And now that they had, she what… decided she didn’t love him after all?
Pain speared him. His own indecisiveness pissed him off. He used to be in control. He knew his limits, was capable of checking his emotions at the door. Now he was all over the place. And not just over a baby—A baby. Would that ever sink in?—but also over Kimber. He opened his mouth to remind her of the day she’d made that promise, that vow he’d been so sure he hadn’t wanted to hear.
But the words “I agree” came out of his mouth instead.
It was the first time he’d ever lied to her. It wouldn’t be the last. Each and every time he saw her over the next eighteen years, whenever he met her new significant other, whenever they exchanged their child, he’d have to pretend he didn’t love her. Hide how hurt he was that they weren’t together, that he couldn’t touch her.