“Kimber?”
She turned to see Landon stepping out of the elevator, one hand casually in his pants pocket, his sharp navy suit making his body appear powerful, solid. Like a good place to cast her worries. And her worries were ample. They walked toward each other, both stopping short of inappropriate distance.
“How are you?” she said.
His eyebrows were drawn together. He had to know what she was doing here after not seeing him for almost a month. There was only one reason for her to be here. Only, she was here for more than the obvious reason. She missed him.
Her life had been empty, strange, since they’d parted that day in Hobo Chic. Even though she knew she had no claim to him, she’d begun bargaining with herself. Asking questions like, why couldn’t she date him a while longer? And finding no suitable answer.
Her loft apartment above her store used to be her sanctuary. Over the last two weeks it’d felt less homey than before. She couldn’t explain why. Nothing had changed. Except for her. She felt like she hadn’t taken a full breath since she’d left Landon’s penthouse for the last time.
And now she wasn’t sure if she’d take a full breath ever again. Not until she talked to him.
His eyes flitted around the lobby before drilling into hers. “I’m late for a meeting across town.” He pulled his hand from his pocket and grimaced at the oversized watch on his wrist. “I can’t miss it, but I don’t want to leave you like this.”
Like this. He thought she was pregnant. “It can wait,” she insisted.
He breached the space between them and palmed her shoulder. “It can’t, but I have to go.” Anguish clouded his eyes. “Do me a favor.”
Anything to get the look of hurt off his face. She nodded.
“Go to my house. Order some lunch. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be home in two hours, three tops. But don’t…” He shook his head like he was at a loss for words. “Don’t do anything until we talk.”
Don’t do anything. Like have an abortion? Her thoughts went back to his confession about his college girlfriend. The pain and regret clouding his eyes when he’d confessed.
“Okay,” she promised.
He closed his eyes as he pulled in a breath, and she could swear he looked relieved. Then he shocked her by leaning in and kissing her. Nothing alarming about a chaste, feather-soft touch of their lips, other than the fact he’d done it in front of a sea of people he worked with; who worked for him.
“Wait for me,” he whispered. Then he strode out of his building and into the bustling street.
* * *
If he was at the business end of a loaded gun, Landon wouldn’t be able to recite a single topic covered of the two-hour meeting he’d just attended. Concentration had been a pipe dream; his thoughts trained only on Kimber, and how beautiful she’d looked standing in the lobby of Downey Design. The way she’d worn her hair, in smooth copper waves around her face. The oversize shirt and leggings coasting along those deliciously curved calves.
He had no idea if she was pregnant, or if she’d come to tell him she wasn’t, but whatever the news he wouldn’t ask her to blurt it out in the twelve seconds before he’d had to rush out the door.
He also had no idea what he was hoping for—positive results or negative. Yes, seeing Rachel last week had thrown him for a loop. Had cemented the decision that he’d like to have a child. In the future. He wasn’t sure when the best time was to start a family, but he knew now wasn’t ideal.
What about college? Was college ideal?
Impatiently, he pressed the button for the penthouse floor twice. One of his co-workers had quipped once that there was no perfect time to have kids, only bad timing and worse timing.
He chuffed a bone-dry laugh.
During the short elevator ride up to his house, he allowed himself to think what if. What if she was pregnant? He was a radically different man than he’d been in college. Income was no longer an issue. He owned a stable, thriving company that was relevant and sought after in a respectably big city. And he was older now, and hopefully wiser. He knew what it took to provide for a child.
On paper, anyway.
He wondered how Kimber felt about all of this. If she’d continue to run her clothing store if she was pregnant. He winced as he walked to the door and pulled his keys out of the lock. All those hours on her feet wouldn’t be good for her or the baby. And he’d have to see about moving the store to a safer neighborhood, somewhere closer to his place… near a good private school. Maybe a charter…