Kade felt his jaw lock as the realization smacked him in the face: his child would be a distraction from his own career and a responsibility he’d never signed on for.
Like father, like son.
Except he wasn’t his father and he refused to follow in the man’s footsteps. It was his condom that broke; Kade was as responsible for the pregnancy as Brodie. He took responsibility for his actions, both in his business and in his personal life. He faced life like a man, not like the spoiled child he’d frequently thought his father to be.
And, for some reason, he couldn’t get the image of Brodie, soft and round with pregnancy, out of his head. He could see a child sleeping on her chest; he wanted to watch her nursing. Dammit, he could even imagine himself changing a diaper, running after his toddler on a beach, teaching the boy to skate.
For the first time ever, Kade could imagine being part of a family, working for and protecting his family. Having his own little tribe.
It wouldn’t be like that, really. Of course it wouldn’t. Nothing ever worked out like a fairy tale, but it was a nice daydream. He and Brodie weren’t going to have the dream but they could have something...different.
He could share the responsibility of raising their child. Taking responsibility meant paying all the bills their child incurred. From pregnancy to college and beyond, he’d supply the cash. Kade hauled in some much-needed air. Cash was the easy part. He had enough to financially support hundreds of kids. The notion of being a father had him gasping for air. Being a dad. Because there was a difference; he knew that as well as he knew his own body.
He couldn’t be like his father...
Kade never half-assed anything. He didn’t cut corners or skimp on the details. He worked. And then he worked some more. He worked at his friendships; he worked at his career. He gave 110 percent, every time.
And he’d give being a dad 110 percent, as well. His child would not grow up feeling like a failure, like an afterthought, like a burden. He wasn’t going to perpetuate that stupid cycle.
And if Brodie didn’t like that, then she’d better get with the program because that was the way it was going to be. He wasn’t going to be a husband or a long-term lover, but he’d be a damn good father and, more importantly, he’d be there every step of the way...
Seven
Brodie placed her heels on the edge of the Adirondack chair and rested her chin on her knees, the expansive view of the Florencia Bay blurry from the tears she refused to let fall. She was used to being alone. She’d made a point of it. But for the first time in nearly a decade she felt like she could do with some help. Just a shoulder to lean on, someone to tell her she could do this, that she was strong enough, brave enough.
She wanted a pair of arms to hold her, someone else’s strength to lift her, a little encouragement. This was the downside of being alone, Brodie realized. When you’d consistently kept yourself apart there was no one you could call on. She’d made this bed and now she had to sleep in it.
Alone.
Well, this sucked. Brodie shoved the heels of her hands into her eye sockets and pushed, hoping the pressure would stop the burning in her eyes. That she wanted to cry was utter madness. She was pregnant, not dying. She was financially able to raise this child and give it everything it needed—she had to stop calling it an it!—and this situation didn’t warrant tears. If memories didn’t make her cry, then her pregnancy had no right to. She was stronger than that.
Brodie straightened her shoulders. So she was going to be a single mother, big deal. Millions of women all over the world did it on a daily basis, a lot of them with fewer resources than she had. Stop being a wuss and get on with it. Rework those plans; write a list. Do something instead of just moping!
She needed to see a doctor and she needed to contact her lawyer. She needed to stop thinking about stupid Kade Webb and the fact he’d accused her of scamming him.
The jerk! Oh, she so wasn’t going to think about him again. From this moment on he was her baby’s sperm donor and nothing else.
She simply wasn’t going to think about him again.
“Brodie.”
Brodie looked up at the clear blue sky and shook her head. “Seriously?”
No one, not God, the universe or that bitch karma, answered her. Brodie reluctantly turned her head and watched Kade walk across the patio toward the other Adirondack chair. Without saying a word, he sat down, rested his forearms on his thighs and dropped his hands between his knees. Simon sat near the edge of the stairs and barked at a seagull flying over his head.
Kade had come straight from the beach, Brodie realized. Sand clung to his feet, which were shoved into expensive flips-flops, and clung to the hair on his bare calves. He had nice feet. Big feet. He was a big guy, everywhere.