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Maybe he needed time to heal.
Maybe he would come back.
Maybe he wouldn’t.
Chapter 42
"What's your current temperature on kids?" Brant's voice was almost inaudible over the wind.
I glanced over, not sure if I’d heard him right. "What?" I held onto the seatbelt, my hair whipping across my face. A minivan passed us on the right, a boy's face pressed against the window, his eyes wide as he stared at Brant's convertible.
“Kids,” he repeated, glancing over at me and raising his voice over the wind. "You used to talk about having a family. You haven't mentioned it in a long time."
I looked past the minivan, watching as the setting sun cast a romantic glow over a city skyline with way too many people crammed in its depths. Hundreds of thousands of them, yet I’d be willing to bet that none were in my predicament.
I trapped a loose piece of hair and pinned it behind my ear and searched for the words to translate all of the things I couldn’t say. It was an impossible task, and I finally swallowed, aware that Brant had infinite patience and would simply wait me out. "I don't really think about a family anymore."
"Why not? You're born to be a mother."
I turned to him, surprised at the statement. "Why do you say that?"
"You come to life with the kids at HYA. They love you." He glanced away from the road for a moment and met my gaze long enough to communicate his sincerity.
I wrinkled my nose. "They're desperate. My own children might feel differently."
"Shut the hell up." The irritation in his voice was so out of character that I blinked, suddenly aware that the car was slowing and that his blinker was on, the vehicle moving to the right lane. He turned the wheel further and the tires vibrated against the change in asphalt as moved into the emergency lane. He pushed the car into park and turned to me.
“Layana. I’ve never seen someone like you—a woman who is perfectly made for every situation. You could stand by my side at the company. Lie in my bed and shatter every fantasy in my head. Raise children with me who are incredible as you. You challenge me. You fascinate me. I want to spend the rest of my life growing old beside you and discovering every facet of what a perfect creation you are. Look at me.”
I couldn’t. I couldn't deal with those words, that loving tone, but also couldn’t evade it—and a discussion about having kids just wasn’t something I was equipped to handle, not right now, even if it was blanketed in words that made my heart swoon.
“If you aren’t ready to get married yet, I can understand that. I won’t rush you into that.” He looked so handsome there, his white button-up shirt undone at the top, the sleeves rolled up on his forearms, his dark hair messy from the wind. He fit perfectly into the setting—the billionaire, behind the seat of his luxury car. So poised, so in control. So understanding. “I’m not trying to get you pregnant; I’m just asking the question. I like to think about our future, to imagine being your husband, and I’m wondering if I should include kids in that vision.”
Oh, Brant. I brought his hand to my mouth and kissed his knuckles, then turned his hand over and gently bit the flesh of his palm.
"I love you so much," he said, his fingers brushing over my cheek.
“I love you too.” I leaned forward and he met me halfway, his kiss tender, then deep. Maybe, he'd let it go. Maybe, if I gave him something small, this could be pushed off for another day. He stopped the kiss. "Is it us, Layana? Is that why you no longer want kids?"
Yes, of course it was us.
I tried to kiss him, but he held me back as his gaze searched my face, looking for an answer. I met his eyes and said what I had to. "No, Brant. No. I promise."
He let out a rough breath, his hand stealing into my hair and tugging me forward, his relief clear in the desperate return to my mouth. And, in that moment, with the wind and the cars and the hum of the city around us, I let myself believe the lie.
It wasn't him. It wasn't us.Wewere perfect.
Chapter 43
"Molly came back." Lee's voice was grim when he said the words.
I looked up from my spot on the couch, a flash of alarm shooting through me. "When?"
"She showed up at Toasty's the other night. A few minutes after I got there. Wanted me back." He rubbed a fresh callus on his palm and glanced at me, his expression guarded.
Molly wanted him back. Not a surprise. I thought of the way she’d rejected my plant, her almost steadfast loyalty to Lee. She had loved him, or at least thought she did. I tried to keep my voice level. "What did you do?"
"You mean, did I fuck her?" He stood from his spot by the living room’s front window. Moving closer, he stopped beside me, his body towering over mine. His eyes belied the dark look on his face. They were more cocky than angry and turning more sexual by the second.
