“Your body still burns for me. Think about that while you weigh pros and cons of what I offered earlier.”
For a split second she thought he hadn’t been into the kiss at all, that it had just been a gambit. But he was breathing harder than usual, and had definitely been affected. He chose not to act on it because he wanted to win, to have another key point in his favor. More than anything, Gavin hated losing.
Before she could say a word, he gave her an unreadable look and walked away, leaving her weak-kneed and full of frustrated longing.
Chapter Eight
THE MOMENT THE APARTMENT DOOR CLOSED, Brooke hopped off the couch. “Spill!”
Amandine handed her the bag of Chinese.
“What’s this?”
“Your favorite.”
“Lobster?” Brooke asked, brightening immediately. Nothing made her happier than free food.
She pulled out a plate and helped herself to a heaping pile of fried rice and lobster. After taking a small forkful of the shellfish dripping with velvety sauce, she put the plate into the microwave. “Now, spill!”
“What do you want me to say?” Amandine took a seat at the dining table and fished out a fortune cookie. That was one of her favorite things about Chinese. She broke it in half, then growled.
“What?” Brooke said.
“It’s empty.” She crumbled the rest of the cookie. “I’ve been robbed of my fortune!”
“I can give you your fortune: Stay strong even in presence of brand new jet.” When the microwave dinged, Brooke pulled out the plate and joined Amandine at the table. “Come on, what did Gavin say?”
Amandine rested her chin on her fist and started talking, though she decided to keep the part about the kiss to herself. She didn’t want any grief about being weak. When she was done, Brooke said, “Wow.”
“I know. It sucks majorly.”
“No. I mean the ultimatum. I can just see Gavin being all like, I’m a Lloyd.” As she spoke, Brooke frowned impressively, which was not at all what Gavin had looked like. He had been imperial. “But then it totally fits his kind, doesn’t it?”
“His kind?”
“His family. His friends. That whole group. They think they can get away with murder because of who they are and how much money they have.” Brooke tilted the carton of lobster. “Sure you don’t want any?”
“I’m fine.”
“All right. I’m gonna put it in the fridge.”
Amandine nodded.
“I wonder why he wants the baby,” Brooke said, as she placed the two cartons into her serviceable white fridge. Everything in her kitchen was simple and functional. “He barely knows what to do with a wife. What’s he going to do with a kid?”
“He probably feels responsible. Says he doesn’t want his kid to grow up without a father.” There hadn’t been any mention of love for her or the baby. True, he’d said he loved children before, in a general way, but was that the same thing?
“Let’s talk about a scenario where he stays the course, since I’m not sure if he’s capable of reprioritizing his life.” Brooke reclaimed her seat and tapped her chin. “He’ll never have any time to properly care for the child, and you’ll end up having to invent lame excuse after even lamer excuse for his absences.”
“Probably.”
“He’s going to miss the kid’s school plays and baseball games. Just like he missed the anniversary dinner.”
Because he’d been too busy doing yard work for Catherine. Would he ignore the child because of Catherine’s needs?
That’d devastate the child and break Amandine’s heart.
She wanted to believe she was strong and resilient, but she knew she’d eventually become hardened and bitter from resentment, and it might affect her relationship with her child. No, there was no might about it. It would affect her relationship with her child. What other outcome could there be?