Vegas Pregnancy Surprise (12 page)

“Molly.”

She turned at the sound of his voice, surprised, and the tote bag in her hands slipped to the floor, spilling its contents. She bent quickly to gather them up again, but not before he saw the book that landed on top. Linc bent down, picked it up—

And froze.

A hardcover Memories for Your Baby journal.

A baby journal? Why would she have something like that? Maybe it was a gift for a friend?

Molly snatched it out of his hand and shoved the book into her bag. “Uh, thank you.”

He thought about today. About her going green at the sight of the bait. At the little bit of extra weight around her waist. And now the book. Most of all he thought of that night—that crazy, intoxicating night when both of them had been acting too fast, too rashly—

“Are you pregnant?” he said, the words blurting out of him before he could think of a better way to ask the question.

“I…” Her eyes widened, and a flush filled her cheeks.

That was answer enough for him. “When were you going to tell me?”

“Soon, I swear. I just…I couldn’t find the right time.”

“Is it…mine?”

She recoiled, as if he’d slapped her, and he wanted to take the question back. “Of course. You think I run around having one-night stands with strangers all the time?”

“I didn’t mean that, Molly. At all. I meant that…well, you could have been in a relationship when we met. It’s not like we talked about a lot of those kinds of things.”

She busied herself with picking up the rest of the books. He bent to help her, and his hand brushed against hers. She jerked away. “I haven’t been in a relationship or with anyone in…a long time.”

“Oh.” That meant only one thing. The child was his.

Linc turned away and ran a hand through his hair. “This was a complication I wasn’t planning on.”

She snorted. “It’s a baby, Linc. Not a complication.”

“I’m not prepared to have a family. In fact, it’s not in my plans at all.”

He saw the disappointment that shimmered in her eyes, the way her face fell, and the distance she put between them in two steps. But what was he supposed to do? Lie? Or tell her the truth—that for just a split second there he’d imagined having it all? That he’d looked at her belly and thought of what it would be like to hold his newborn son or daughter?

Then he’d remembered that he, of all people, shouldn’t be a parent. He’d been a terrible older brother. What made him think he could be any kind of parent?

“I’m not asking you to do anything at all,” Molly said.

“But there are certain things I should do,” Linc said. “As the father.”

“Such as?”

His mind went to the first, most obvious need, and he reached into the breast pocket of his suit to withdraw a leather checkbook and a pen. “You’ll need money for the child. For diapers and cribs and—”

“Are you paying me off?” The shock in her voice raised the words by several decibels.

“Not at all. I’m merely giving you money—”

“To get rid of the problem. The ‘complication.’” She threw air quotes around the word, nearly spitting it back into his face. Molly shook her head, then headed for the door. “I thought I knew you, Linc, I really did. But I was wrong.”

Before he could stop her, she was gone. The door slammed behind her, leaving no doubt about Molly’s feelings. She wanted nothing to do with Linc. Did he blame her, really? He couldn’t have handled that worse if he tried.

Damn.

He’d turned to leave when he noticed something parked against the leg of the desk. Molly’s tote bag. As he picked up the bag, the book resting atop the others inside toppled out of the tote and fell to the floor. The Memories for Your Baby journal. Linc began to flip through it.

It was one of those books you filled in, the kind that asked questions, and the parents-to-be supplied the answers. A few pages in, he found one labeled “A
BOUT
Y
OUR
D
ADDY
.”

F
ATHER’S
N
AME
:
Lincoln Curtis

B
IRTHDAY
:
??

E
YE
C
OLOR
:
Blue

H
AIR
C
OLOR
:
Dark Brown

O
CCUPATION
:
CEO

W
HERE
W
E
M
ET
:
Over a glass of wine in Las Vegas

His mind rocketed back to that night in the Bellagio, to the frenzied passion between the two of them, their rush to get upstairs to a room, and the first time they’d made love—

Without taking precautions first.

Stupid, he’d known, but then, the next time, when his mind had been clearer and he’d taken his time making love to Molly, he’d been smart. Thinking, like an idiot who hadn’t taken Health class in fifth grade, just one time wasn’t enough to get anyone pregnant.

Linc turned every page in the journal, and found nothing but blank pages for things like “Where Your Father Grew Up.” “His Happiest Childhood Memory.” “Names He Wanted for You.”

Deep in the book he found a few lines filled in, with information clearly gleaned from the conversation with Harry at the aquarium. However, the questions she’d asked him over the last few days suddenly made sense. And the blank pages were testament to how little he had opened up to her.

He hadn’t opened his heart at all. Merely his checkbook.

Linc let out a long sigh and put the tote bag back where he had found it. But he took the journal with him, turned off the light and left the room.

M
OLLY
woke up before the sun. Her morning sickness had begun to abate, and after a few crackers and a little ginger ale she felt fine—at least from the pregnancy nausea. But from her emotions—

Not so good.

What had she expected Linc to do when he found out about the baby? Open his arms, welcome her into his embrace and propose some version of the three of them living happily ever after?

Well…

Yes. Part of her, deep down inside, had hoped for that, as insane as it sounded. Even the side of her that was realistic and cautious had not expected him to throw money at her, like she was a problem he could buy his way out of.

She drew herself up, refusing to give in to the turmoil of emotions churning inside her. She was fine, just fine, she told herself, and that was what she was going to tell Linc, too. So he hadn’t leaped for joy, exploded with a smile or danced around the room with her.

That was to be expected. She had, after all, kept this a secret, and probably shouldn’t have. She refused to acknowledge the disappointment about his reaction settling inside her.

Molly thought of her own father, of how he’d been there to teach her to ride a bike, to build a birdhouse, to shoot a basketball. She wanted her child to have the same things. Surely Linc did, too?

She would talk to him. Maybe he’d been shocked, and that explained his reaction.

She got dressed, then left her apartment. In the elevator, instead of pressing the button for lobby, she hit the
P
for penthouse. In her mind, she composed a thousand different things she wanted to say to him, but as soon as he opened the door she went mute.

Linc stood in his spacious apartment, shirtless, wearing only dark blue dress pants. He had a defined, well-built body, muscular, with a firm six-pack and a solid strength that seemed to beg a woman to step into his arms and rely on him. Despite her best intentions, desire coursed through Molly’s veins, and her mind went back to the day before, to being in the water and pressed against Linc’s warm, solid chest. The vivid dream she’d had yesterday had done nothing but compound those feelings, and remind her all over again how good being with him could be.

God, she wanted him.

Even if having him was all wrong for her. And he had made it clear he wanted the complete opposite of what she did.

Focus, Molly. Focus.

“Molly.” Surprise lit his features. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I wanted to talk to you. Alone.”

Linc stepped back and gestured her into the apartment. As soon as she entered Linc’s personal space, she was struck by how—

How un-Linc it was.

She’d expected an apartment as stark and linear as the corporate offices of Curtis Systems. Instead, she found a warm, cozy and inviting place filled with overstuffed caramel leather furniture, deep, plush, off-white rugs, and pictures—

Tons and tons of pictures. Frames of all shapes, sizes and styles dominated the sofa table, the shelves on either side of the fireplace, the long windowsill against the far wall.

“Your apartment is…wonderful,” she said, turning a slow circle, taking in the cook’s kitchen, the intimate dining room, the comfortable living room. He had an eclectic mix of furniture, from the antique cherry buffet table to the more modern leather furniture. Yet somehow it all seemed to flow in a happy marriage of style. “Not at all what I thought it would look like.”

“Thank you. A lot of the pieces I inherited when my parents passed away ten years ago,” he said. “But I have to admit I hired a decorator to put it all together. My talents don’t extend very far past the boardroom.”

She shot him a smile. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

And just like that, she was flirting with him again. Every time she turned around, she got sidetracked, derailed by her hormones. That was what it had to be—the overload of estrogen from the pregnancy.

Not the fact that a muscular, sexy Lincoln Curtis was standing less than a foot away from her. Bare-chested. Tempting.

And sending her mind right back to that dream she’d had yesterday. To the memory of his chest against hers in the water, that sensuous slippery feeling of skin on skin. Of kissing him—oh, kissing him.

Yeah, right. Not that at all.

“Coffee?”

“Huh?” She had to drag her gaze away from his chest and focus again. He’d asked her a question.

“Would you like some coffee?” Linc asked her.

“No, thank you.” She trailed a hand along the back of the leather sofa. She couldn’t stand here all day admiring his apartment. She had come here for a reason and she needed to get to it.

“Why did you connect with me that night in the bar?” she asked. “There are thousands of single women in Vegas on any given night. Why me?”

Why an ordinary kindergarten teacher from San Diego, when a man like Lincoln Curtis could have his choice of anyone?

He gestured toward the balcony, and to two wide wicker seats placed beneath an awning that provided welcome shade from the Vegas sun. They went outside, and settled into the comfortable furniture. “That answer’s simple. Because you weren’t then, and still aren’t, like any of the women I’ve ever met in Vegas. Not that I meet very many.”

The compliment warmed her. “What do you mean?”

He let out a long breath. “I don’t date a lot, as I’m sure you’ve realized, just based on my work schedule. And when I do meet women, most of them see me as…” He paused a moment. “As Lincoln Curtis, not Linc.”

“You mean as the CEO, not as the man.” She could see why. In a suit, and in his element at work, Linc cut an imposing figure. She hadn’t heard a single employee of Curtis Systems call him anything other than Mr. Curtis. She was sure no one could imagine him as anything else, picture him in a different setting than the corporate one.

“When I went into the bar that night, I purposely dressed down,” he said. “I didn’t want to be seen as a boss, or heck, even a businessman. I just wanted, for once, to be…me.”

She smiled. “I know the feeling.”

“How so?”

She let out a long sigh. If she wanted Linc to open up to her, then perhaps she needed to do a little opening up of her own. “I used to be married to a doctor. It didn’t last long and we got divorced two years ago. He was…very structured. Kept our lives in this tight little line. I didn’t realize how much that suffocated me until after I got divorced. It was like I took off the ring and suddenly became me again.” She’d later seen how she had lost herself in her marriage to Doug, and once they were apart she’d gone back to feeling happy. Free. Living a life that didn’t have every moment planned.

“I can’t imagine you married to someone like that,” Linc said.

“In the beginning, he was charming. I guess with the right smile you end up overlooking a lot of faults.” She shook her head. “Anyway, it’s over. And I’m not going to make that mistake again.”

Linc met her gaze, and she wondered if he knew that she meant she had no intentions of falling for him, regardless of those kisses yesterday. She didn’t want Lincoln Curtis, CEO. She wanted Linc, the man she’d met that night, the man she’d seen at Lake Mead and on the boat—

But he never seemed to stay around. Especially not yesterday. Disappointment filled her again.

“I know what you mean. I almost got married myself.”

“You did?”

He nodded. “But I couldn’t be the right kind of husband, so I broke things off. She deserved more than I could give.”

Molly wondered what he meant by that. What kind of husband he couldn’t be. Was it just then, or now, too?

“When I met you,” Linc went on, “it was like stepping into another world. Our conversation was so…ordinary. So normal. You didn’t start out with the sound-bite line.”

“Sound-bite line?”

“You know, when you hear someone interviewed on TV? The first few words out of any reporter’s mouth are the person’s name, age, occupation. A lot of the women I’ve met in the past have only been interested in that. Maybe they want to make sure I’m employed or have enough to cover the dinner bill.”

He let out a sharp laugh that spoke of a long line of disappointing dates. A wave of sympathy ran through Molly.

“But you…” His voice trailed off.

She dipped her head, remembering her opening line, spurred by the activities at the table across from them. Almost embarrassed by its simplicity. “I asked you about your most memorable birthday.”

“It was so…unexpected. So different.” He smiled. “And when I told you—”

“About your seventh birthday,” she finished, the memory still vivid, as clear today as it had been that night. Wishing she’d come up with something more clever. “When you got your first two-wheeler bike.”

“And my first broken bone.” Linc chuckled. “It was quite the ice-breaker.”

She shrugged, as if it was nothing. “That’s just something I use with my classes to help the kids get to know each other.”

His gaze met hers. “It works.”

She bit her lip, and asked the other big question that had bothered her ever since she’d arrived in Vegas. “And was the man I met that night, the dressed-down one, was he the real Linc?”

The one who could live an ordinary life, with a wife and a child? She left those words unspoken, because she didn’t want to see that damned checkbook again and have her heart broken twice in two days.

Linc’s gaze went to the desert, and he stared at it for so long Molly thought he wasn’t going to answer her. “It doesn’t matter if he was or he wasn’t. I can’t be that man, even if I wanted to be.”

Frustration bubbled up inside of her. “What does that mean? You can’t live an ordinary life?”

He turned back to her. “I shouldn’t. I’d be no good at it.”

Molly sighed. What had she been expecting? That just because she asked the question, Linc would supply the answer she wanted?

“I…I should go,” she said, getting to her feet. “I don’t want to make you late.”

And I don’t want to cry in front of you. Don’t want to let you know how much I wanted to hear you say something else. Wanted to hear you say you’d been wrong yesterday. You changed your mind
.

She had made it to the French doors and almost stepped back inside before he spoke.

“It’s not that I don’t want what everyone else has, Molly. Or want to be a father, especially to my own child. It’s that I can’t.”

Molly froze and turned back to him. “That’s insane. All you have to do is try, Linc.”

“I have. And I was awful at it.” He sighed. “I let down the one person I was supposed to protect.”

She couldn’t imagine powerful, dedicated Linc doing any such thing. “Who?”

He had turned back to the desert, and was silent for so long Molly was sure he wasn’t going to answer her. She stepped back out onto the patio and came up behind Linc, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Who?” she asked again.

“My brother.” The words slipped out softly.

“Marcus.”

He nodded, then let out a breath. “I made a promise to take care of him. To be there for him. And I broke that.” Linc pivoted toward Molly, and in his eyes she saw pain, grief, regret. “I wasn’t there for him when he needed me, and that’s why I can’t promise to be there for anyone else.”

“Linc—”

“No, Molly, don’t.” He put up a hand. “If you need money, you need a house, car, anything else, I’ll provide it. But don’t ask me to be a part of raising this child.”

Hurt and disappointment coursed through her. She should have known better than to come here, to try and change his mind. Hadn’t he made it clear from the beginning that he wasn’t the family man type? “I only came to Vegas to get to know you, in case the baby had questions. Just enough information to fill a few pages of that book, and then…” She forced herself to keep going, to push the words past that stubborn lump of despair that refused to go away. “I’ll go back to San Diego and raise the baby myself. I don’t expect you to marry me or be any more involved than that.”

“You don’t want me to be a part of the baby’s life? Or yours?”

“I don’t
expect
you to be,” she repeated, because expecting and wanting were two different things, and if she admitted that deep down inside she had hoped he’d want to be part of their lives, she would cry. “You’ve made yourself very clear.”

Her mind, her silly mind, couldn’t seem to let go of that Christmas card image. Of her, Linc, the baby in front of a Christmas tree, all smiles and hope.

Ridiculous. Why couldn’t she get over that and face reality?

“I’m not trying to hurt you, Molly, believe me.”

“It’s not me you’re hurting. It’s you, and our baby. Like it or not, this baby will be here in seven months. And you’re going to be missing something pretty spectacular when it arrives.” She turned away, then took a step back. “You know, the man I met two months ago was the kind of man I could have—” She cut off the sentence. She refused to be vulnerable. Refused to fall into that trap again. Hadn’t she learned her lesson with Doug? Sharing her dreams had done nothing but get them rejected. “The kind of man who could have taken a risk like this. Who wouldn’t have let fear hold him back from one of the best gifts life has to offer.”

He let out a sigh. “You know I’ll do right by you and this child. You don’t have to worry about that.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want your
money
, Linc. This was never about money.”

“I can’t settle down in the suburbs in the little picket fence house. I’m not that kind of man.”

“One of these days, this baby—our child,
your
child—is going to grow up and ask me…” She inhaled, because the next words hurt even before they left her throat. “Where’s my daddy? Why isn’t he here? Didn’t he want me? What do you want me to tell him or her?”

Linc turned around, placing his back against the railing. “The truth. That a man like me has no business raising a child. I’m good at being a CEO, Molly. But when it comes to people—”

He cut off the words, and she waited for him to finish.

“With people, I’m just not the one you want to pin all your hopes on.”