Yours for Christmas (Fool's Gold #15.5)(29)

The guy who owned the jet company turned out to be pretty nice. His wife, a stay-at-home mom, used her phone to show off pictures of their kids.

“I see Taryn,” Bailey told Kenny a few minutes later. “I need to talk to her for a second.”

“Don’t go far.”

“I won’t.” Later there was supposed to be dancing. Bailey hoped Kenny planned to dance the night away with her. Who wouldn’t want that in her future?

She excused herself and crossed the room toward her friend. Taryn had on a black, strapless, fitted evening gown that sparkled and dazzled nearly as much as the woman herself. Her hair was long and straight, her makeup dramatic. Large diamonds gleamed from her ears and around her wrists. She looked exotic, wanton and powerful.

Bailey gave herself a second to admire the view, then approached her friend. Taryn saw her and hurried over.

“You look fantastic,” Taryn said. “My God, every guy in the place is going to want to haul you off and have his way with you.”

“Oh, please,” Bailey said. “As if. You look amazing.”

Taryn dismissed the compliment with a flick of her wrist. “This old thing? We just got back two days ago. I didn’t have time to shop. Not that anyone here has seen the dress, but still.”

Bailey laughed. Obviously her month away hadn’t changed Taryn at all. It was good to know that some things were consistent. “Thank you for my accessories.” She held up the bag and pointed to the earrings. “You’re very sweet to me.”

“Don’t say that out loud,” Taryn told her, glancing around as she spoke. “You think I want people to know I’m nice?”

Bailey grinned. “Sorry. I won’t say anything. How are you? How was your trip?”

“Wonderful. Romantic. Angel is a god—not that I want him to know.” She took Bailey by the arm and led her to an alcove in the corner. “I need to talk to you.”

Gone was the teasing and sassy attitude. Taryn’s eyes were wide and filled with an emotion Bailey didn’t recognize. On anyone else she would have said it was fear.

“What’s wrong?”

Taryn drew in a breath. “I think, I mean I’m pretty sure...” She swallowed. “I’m pregnant.”

Bailey laughed. “That’s wonderful. You scared me. Aren’t you happy?”

“Happy? No. Terrified. I’m not like you. I’m not sweet or giving or huggy. I want to be a good mom, but what if I screw up? What if my kid doesn’t like me?” Tears filled her eyes. “You don’t understand. I had horrible parents. I don’t know how to do this.”

Bailey wrapped her arms around her friend. “You’ll be fine. Trust me. You have everything you need inside of you. You’re warm and caring. I’m wearing the shoes that prove it. You know how to love. That’s all children want. To be loved. You’ll provide a stable home and lots of attention. It’s going to be fine.”

Taryn stepped back. “I’m not convinced. Can you teach me how to be more like you?”

Bailey held in more laughter. “Sure. We can start right away so you’re ready.”

“Okay. Thank you. I’m not going to tell anyone else until I’m in my fourth month. Just to be sure everything is okay. But I wanted to tell you.” She sniffed. “Do you think they make couture maternity clothes?”

Bailey laughed. “I’m sure of it.”

* * *

PART OF GROWING up with a parent in the State Department and living overseas meant learning to adjust to different cultures and traditions. Kenny had gotten good at adapting when necessary. It was a skill that had served him well on the football field and in life. But no matter how he smiled and talked with his business partners, his friends and clients, he couldn’t shake the sensation of something not being right.

Maybe it was the tux. He would rather be in jeans. Maybe it was the party itself—too many people having too much fun. Only he liked parties and he enjoyed the holidays and hell, wearing a tux now and then wasn’t a big deal. So why did he keep feeling as if his collar was too tight and that he should be scanning the room for exits?

The most obvious reason was standing about two feet away, laughing at something Jack had said. In a word—Bailey. She looked stunning in her black-and-gold evening gown. Sexy and beautiful and more temptation than any man should have to resist.

The problem wasn’t that he wanted her. He could accept the longing, the heated blood, the need to pull her into a dark corner and kiss her until neither of them could breathe. That was fine. Desire was easy. Familiar. Comfortable. No, what had him unable to relax was more complicated and a lot more terrifying.

It was that he liked her. He liked hanging out with her. He liked listening to her talk and the sound of her laughter. He liked how she painted a room and baked cookies and took care of her daughter. He liked how he felt when he was around her. He liked that she made him feel protective. He wanted to take care of her, to be with her. He wanted to be a part of her and her daughter’s lives, and that was where it all went sideways for him.

The battle of what he wanted and what he knew was safe wasn’t easy. Telling himself that she wasn’t his ex didn’t help the situation. Because in the end, he could still lose her. That was bad enough, but to also lose Chloe—he didn’t think he could survive the loss of both of them.