Brides, Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters
massaged her lower back. They had walked through thirteen houses—only three of which were even remotely habitable. And she was pregnant. He had kept her on her feet all afternoon and clearly, she was tiring.
God, he was a cad. He wished he could make this easier on her. But he wasn’t going to buy a mediocre house just so she wasn’t on her feet as much.
Not that she looked pregnant. Instead, she looked lush and it took most of his willpower to keep from touching her. Her hair shone and her figure—she was a perfect hourglass. A voluptuous, decadent hourglass figure that he wanted to appreciate properly.
But he didn’t. He was a gentleman, by God. But then she made a moaning noise and what was left of his willpower went up in smoke.
He stepped in close and pushed her hands aside. This was a bad idea, and yet he settled his hands on her hips, rubbing his thumbs in circles along the small of her back, and damned if she didn’t feel right under his touch.
“Would you buy any of these houses?” he asked, trying to focus on relieving her tension instead of the way her body filled his hands.
For a long second, she didn’t respond. She held her back straight, and her arms awkwardly hung at her sides. But then he must’ve found the right spot because all of a sudden, she sighed heavily and leaned back into his touch. “I would not,” she admitted. “But my housing needs are different than yours. If I were to buy a home, it’d need to be a family home.”
“Where are you living now? Not with Roger, right?” When Seth had found her at the scenic overlook, she had made it very clear that she couldn’t go back to the place she’d shared with Roger. Seth knew that she had been at the hotel for a week—because the room had been charged to his credit card. But where she’d gone after she’d checked out, he didn’t know.
“No, not with Roger.” She sighed again, leaning back into him some more. “We... You shouldn’t...”
“Hush,” he said, closer to her ear than he should’ve been. She was right—he shouldn’t be touching her like this and certainly not in a crappy house he wasn’t going to buy. Funny how that wasn’t stopping him. “Was this the last house?”
She nodded, not pulling away as he worked at her tired muscles.
“I’m taking you to dinner. No argument,” he said quickly when she jolted. “We’ll discuss real estate things. But I’m hungry and you need to get off your feet.”
He could feel the tension in her body and there was a moment when he knew she was going to say no. And really, why had he asked? He was tired, too. He’d been sociable and chatty all afternoon and he should’ve been absolutely done with other people.
Instead, he was kneading her tired muscles and hoping she’d say yes. To dinner, that was. Nothing else.
But she wasn’t going to. He let go of her hips as she stepped away from him. When she turned, her eyes were in shadows. “Dinner?”
It wasn’t a no. He wanted to take her to an expensive place, with haute cuisine and complicated wine lists. He wanted to show her he was more than a biker, more mature than any other twenty-five-year-old. God knew he had the money now to wine and dine her. Hell, he could buy a restaurant for her if she wanted.
Suddenly, he realized he didn’t want to take her to a fancy place. Yeah, he wanted to impress her—but for some reason, it also felt important that he show her who he really was.
And who he really was, was a biker. A multimillionaire business owner, yeah—but choppers were his life. “Sure. There’s a great burger place not too far from here, but it’s whatever you want.”
She tucked her lower lip under her teeth and worried at it. The effort it took not to stare was surprising. “I should buy you dinner,” she announced. “You paid for the hotel.”
No way was that happening. “The hotel was a wedding gift. A not-wedding gift,” he corrected with a smile when she opened her mouth to argue. “Dinner’s on me. What are you in the mood for?”
He hadn’t heard a no yet—but he still hadn’t gotten a yes, either. “I’m sure you have someone you’d rather have dinner with.”
Well, wasn’t that an interesting statement? Was it possible that Kate Burroughs was jealous? It was, of course. But—jealous of who?
Then she answered the question for him. “This Julie—she’s probably waiting on you?”
Seth knew it was not a good idea to laugh at an expectant mother. He fought it as hard as he could, but he lost ground little by little. His lips twitched up and then they broke open into a wild grin and the next thing he knew, he was chuckling.
Kate looked indignant. “What’s so funny?” she demanded, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
The sight of that had Seth standing straighter at attention. “Julie’s my little sister. She just turned ten. She’s a year younger than Clara, and almost the same age as Eliza. We’re all cousins.” At this point, he couldn’t explain his family tree without a whiteboard and color-coded markers. The all-purpose designation of “cousins” would have to do. “They are a tough pack of middle-school girls. You should see them play soccer sometime—they’re brutal.”
He didn’t know what she had expected him to say, but it was pretty clear that wasn’t it. Kate’s mouth opened and then shut, her brow furrowed, then her mouth opened and shut again.
Seth smirked and took her by the elbow, leading her out of the house that might well burn down tomorrow. Gallantly, he opened the driver’s-side door and bowed her into her seat. “You have two minutes to decide if you want burgers or not. I’m hungry.”
It took less than two seconds before Kate said, “I would kill for some french fries,” in a tone of voice that made it sound like french fry cravings were a crime. “Does this place have ice cream?” she asked hopefully.
“Malts and milkshakes.”
She sighed, a noise that shot straight through him. “Burgers it is.”
* * *
In short order, they were sitting in Seth’s favorite booth at Mike’s All Night Diner. Kate looked around nervously because Mike’s was not quite a bar, but it was popular with a certain clientele. In fact, her car had been the only car in a parking lot full of bikes. But this was a family restaurant. People came here to eat. If they wanted to get drunk and brawl, there were bars for that.
“You come here often?” she asked as a guy in motorcycle leathers walked past them.
Seth shrugged. “Often enough. Don’t forget, I own part of a motorcycle company. This was normal when I was growing up.”
In fact, now that he had her here, he wasn’t sure that this was a good idea. The odds of him being recognized by one of his dad’s buddies were pretty decent and this could be an intimidating crowd. Kate stuck out worse than a thumb, sore or not, and word would probably get back to his dad.
Damn.
She really didn’t belong in a place like this. He should’ve taken her to a classy place, with linen tablecloths and snooty waiters and artistically displayed food on oddly shaped plates.
Then again, he’d been so busy since he’d officially returned to Rapid City that he hadn’t had time to catch up with the old gang. It just wasn’t a priority—not right now, anyway.
Not that he would ever admit it out loud and certainly not in a joint like this, but Seth had missed his sister and even his parents. However, the phrase “you can’t go home again” turned out not just to be a tired cliché but an absolute truth. Seth loved his family, but he didn’t fit in their household anymore.
Still, he hadn’t seen a single home today that made him want to give up his suite of rooms at the Mason Hotel. There, at least, he could come and go as he pleased, the bed was always freshly made and if he ate out too much,