All for This (17 page)

Liz scowls. “Why do you think I went back despite my better judgment?”

“Details,” Nix demands.

Liz takes a sip of her martini and licks her lips slowly. I can’t tell if she’s remembering or trying to figure out how to change the subject. Then Maggie gets struck with the same revelation I had at her party.

“You
like
him,” she whispers. “This isn’t just sex. You really like him.”

Liz shakes her head. “I’m a grown woman, and I’m done playing games. I want something
real
. Wicked-hot sex and handcuffs and the best orgasms ever aren’t really a foundation for a successful relationship.”

Across from me, Nix actually whimpers. “I really hate you.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad to me,” I say.

Liz shrugs. “I shared. On to someone else, please.” She looks to Maggie. “How about you? Can you share some dirty newly married sex stories for Nix to live vicariously through?”

“Do you really think I’m the kind of girl who would kiss and tell?” Maggie asks.

“Yes,” we all say in unison.

She snickers and turns in the booth to eye her husband across the room. When she turns back to us, she has that wicked smile on her face. “He’s still got it.” She turns to Cally. “And married sex is the best, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes.” Cally grins. “But married, pregnant sex is even better.”

I sigh. “Lucky bitches.”

“Where are we?” I rub my eyes, trying to wake up.

After he promised he wouldn’t try to get in my pants again, I let Nate drive to my doctor’s appointment in Indianapolis. We had lunch afterward, and I must have fallen asleep on the way home. Now, we’re parked on the street in front of a house I don’t recognize, and the sun is sinking lower in the sky. We’re in the newer part of New Hope, in the recently developed area by the river where my mom and Asher live.

“Are we visiting someone?”

Nate doesn’t answer me. Instead, he climbs out of the car and walks around to open my door. When I step onto the sidewalk, I see a “For Sale” sign in the front yard and a “SOLD” magnet across the center of it.

I turn to him and narrow my eyes. “What is this?”

He shifts awkwardly and gives me a tentative smile. He actually looks
nervous.

“What are we doing here?” I ask again.

The house is beautiful. Not as big as my mom’s and definitely not the size of Asher’s, but it’s a Cape Cod-style home with a covered wraparound porch and blue shutters.

I follow Nate to the door, and he produces a key from his pocket to unlock it. “Why do you have a key?”

“I know the owner,” he says, pushing through the front door.

Whoever sold the house must not have moved their furniture out yet, because right inside the door is a fully furnished living room—fluffy, overstuffed couches, oversized chairs, all situated around a soft beige rug.

I’m still not sure what we’re doing here, but I follow Nate into the kitchen. He turns on lights as I take in the dark cabinets, gleaming countertops, and shining appliances. The sink sits under a big picture window that looks out into a large, fenced backyard.

“Could you live somewhere like this?” Nate asks quietly. “It’s not right on the river like your mom’s and Asher’s places, but I thought this might be safer for the twins. You can let them run out back and play without having to worry about them going too close to the water.”

“Sure,” I say. “Someday, this would be great.” But this is a house for a family—a couple of kids and their parents. Not a screw-up single mom who loves two men and doesn’t deserve either of them. Someone with a steady job who can pay the mortgage, not a floundering new business. “For now, I’m fine in the apartment above the bakery.”

Nate shoves his hands into his pockets and his shoulders draw up around his ears. “No, you’re not.”

“That’s hardly your choice to make.”

He raises a brow. “You think I shouldn’t have a choice in where my children live?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“No? I think it was. I think you’re still convinced that, by the time you have those babies, I’m going to be back in LA and out of your life for good.” He stalks up to me slowly, determination in his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you, angel, but that’s not going to happen. You can’t push me out of your life.”

“I’m not trying to!” I squeeze my eyes shut and take a breath. We had such a nice, pleasant day, and I don’t want to ruin it. “I never want to make you feel like you aren’t welcome in the twins’ lives. You’re their father. They’ll need you.” I lift my gaze to his, and he drops his shoulders.

“So let me do this,” he says softly. “If not for you, then for them.”

“Do what?”

“Give them a home. This home. I know you think you can make it work in that little apartment, but even if it weren’t way too small for two children, it also has those damn stairs. Have you really thought about what it’s going to be like, lugging two babies up those stairs along with strollers and groceries? And what about when it gets icy in the winter? What if you fell again? What if you were holding the babies when you fell?”

I let out a long, slow breath. He’s right. That apartment isn’t going to work once the twins are here. “Okay,” I agree. “I need a different place to live, but I’m not in a position to have a place like this yet.”

“I am.”

I wrap my arms around myself and shake my head. “No. It’s too much. I can’t let you do that for me.”

“I already have,” he says softly.

He takes my hand and leads me through the house—the breakfast nook beside the kitchen with a great view of the backyard, the dining room.

“The master is on the main floor,” he says, “but there’s an attached office you can use as a nursery until the twins are old enough to move upstairs.” He takes me into the large bedroom.

The attached bathroom is gorgeous—stone countertops, a jetted tub, and a large tile shower that has room for a small family. Off to the left of the bedroom is a sunny room with dark mahogany nursery furniture—two cribs, mechanical swings, a rocking chair, and a changing table.

“Do the current owners have twins too?” I ask.

“I’m the current owner,” Nate says. He watches me carefully. “I bought the house and furniture for you. I hope you like it. I didn’t get any of the bedding or decorations because I thought you’d want to choose that.”

My breath feels stuck in my throat and my eyes burn with unshed tears. “It’s too much.”

He gathers me against his chest and wraps his arms around me. I’m so overwhelmed that I let him, breathing in his good, clean scent and wishing life were simpler.

Suddenly I'm hit with a memory of Vivian crying in my office, asking me to give her a future with Nate. He deserves that future. And if it weren’t for me, he’d want it.

“It’s not nearly enough,” he whispers against my hair. “You’re carrying my children. There is no gift that amounts to that.”

“Thank you.”

“I tried to remember everything you told me you wanted in your life. It’s close to your family, so someday, when Maggie has kids, the cousins can play. It’s a five-minute drive from the bakery. The fenced backyard will be perfect for a dog when you decide you’re ready for that.”

I pull out of his arms and wipe my eyes. “You thought of everything.”

“I tried.” He studies me. “There are four bedrooms upstairs, so the twins can each have their own room when they’re older, but there’s still room for more kids if that’s what you want.”

I chuckle softly. “And who exactly would I have these children with?” I regret the question as soon as it’s out of my mouth.

Some emotion I don’t recognize flashes over Nate’s face, and then he’s stepping toward me, cupping my jaw in his big hand, skimming his thumb over my lips. “May I, angel?”

I’m too caught up and trying to process his nearness—the amazing and forbidden unfurling of need low in my belly—and before I realize what he’s asking, his mouth is on mine. Warm and tender, coaxing and wicked, the kiss is everything that turns me on about this man. It’s the sweet against the sensual, the protective against the need to consume. His lips sweep over mine and his tongue slides into my mouth, and I feel wanton and sexy and cherished all at once. I want to stay here, locked under the power of his kiss as his hand slides under my shirt. I could. I know he’d take me as far I as I wanted to go, and it would feel so damn good.

Between my shirt and bra, his thumb grazes over my sensitive nipple, and I gasp at the faint contact. My knees go weak and the hot, needy ache between my legs turns molten.

Somewhere deep within me, I find the will to step away from his kiss, and we stare at each other, chests heaving, eyes hot, bodies on fire.

“You bought me a house,” I say. “You didn’t buy me.” But my mind is already conjuring up all the things we could do in that bathroom, and some really horny, slutty part of me is whispering that it wouldn’t be right to let him buy me that big four-poster bed without trying it out.

Some of the heat has dissipated from his eyes and his jaw is hard. “I’m not some asshole who’s trying to buy you off. I didn’t kiss you because I think you owe me.”

“Then why did you do it?” I ask.

“Because you were looking at me like you wished I would.”

I swallow the guilt gathering in my throat. “It’s too complicated. We’re going to be in each other’s lives. We need to set boundaries.”

“You still want Max.”

For a minute, I can only blink at him and wonder how he thinks Max has anything to do with this. I’ll accept this gift because it’s done and I know he can afford it, that he’d insist if I argued. In reality, I’d rather have him—here, in New Hope, making
me
his first family. I’ll accept the house because I can’t ask for more.

“I don’t want anyone.”

He flinches, and for a moment, I wonder how I learned to lie so quickly.

Three Days Before Hanna’s Accident

T
HE BELL
at the front of the bakery dings, and I head up front to find a leggy, raven-haired beauty, her lips parted slightly as she studies my shop. A tall, blond Viking of a man follows behind her, his broad shoulders filling up the doorway. There are more dead-sexy men in this city every day.

“May I help you?” I ask, tearing my eyes off her young-Fabio companion.

“This town is unreal,” she says. “Like something out of a movie. So flipping cute.”

I can’t help but grin because most people dismiss New Hope as a dumb, little hick town. I appreciate anyone who can see it the way I do. “Thank you. I think so too. Would you like some coffee? Breakfast? The scones are especially delicious, I’m told.”

“Oh, I’d love a cup of green tea if you have it.” She flushes sweetly. As she looks at me straight on for the first time, it hits me—this isn’t just any out-of-towner. This is Vivian Payne. The actress. The mother of Nate’s child. “Does asking for green tea make me sound like Los Angel-bitch? Little bit, right?”

“Not at all.” I fill a cup with hot water with remarkably steady hands and grab a tea bag before handing them to her across the pastry case. “On the house. What brings you to New Hope?”

“I’m hoping to track down Hanna Thompson?”