Winning Wyatt (The Billionaire Brotherhood Book 1) (5 page)

“I
should have seen him.” Instead of giving him insight into the time he’d missed,
his request for details had highlighted his exclusion from it. “I should have
been there, Kara. I don’t plan to miss anything else.”

Her
chin came up. “How are you going to manage that?”

“I
haven’t worked out the details yet, but I plan to be involved from now on.”

She
shook her head. “We’ve gotten along just fine without you so far.”

“I
didn’t know my son existed then! You can’t expect me to walk away now.”

“You
said you didn’t want a child. When did you change your mind?”

“When
I saw him.” The words came out sharp and hard and sliced through the air with
the efficiency of a sword. He softened as the reality of her unintended gift
assailed him again. “I can’t believe how instinctive my response to him is.
Family ties are important, Kara. You already know that. I’m not going to take
fatherhood lightly.”

“If
you’re looking for an heir to offer up to the mighty Maitland family, you can
go look somewhere else. Sean is mine, and you can’t have him.”

Finally,
the root of her fear had surfaced. Her fear of losing another child. A
completely rational fear, from her perspective. He could reassure her about his
intentions, but her history warned him that nothing he said would comfort her.
And his business experience at his mother’s side warned him not to launch
negotiations until he knew exactly what each party was willing to give up and
receive in return.

“I’ll
do whatever I have to do to become a part of his life. I know from my nephew’s
past how harmful it can be for a child not to know both of his parents.”

Even
though she stood in the center of the room, the way her eyes darted right and
left made him think of a mouse that had been backed into a corner, searching
for an escape route.“What do you intend to do?”

“I
think we both need some time to consider the situation.” Rising from the chair,
he took her arm and led her to the foyer. He stopped with his hand on the
doorknob. “I’ll be back in the morning. What time does Sean get up?”

“Around
eight.”

“See
you then.” As he stepped onto the porch, he allowed the enormous bubble of
pride and joy to flow through him again. In one short evening, his life had
changed irrevocably.

He
felt like he’d just won the lottery, or inherited the Mona Lisa, or landed on
the moon, or anything unbelievably good he could ever have imagined all rolled
up into one shiny package. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Kara?”

“Yes?”
Her voice trembled, and she shivered against the October chill.

“Thank
you for my son. He’s beautiful.”

Kara
watched the taillights of Wyatt’s car disappear down the drive, then barely
made it inside the house before sagging against the door. The strain of seeing
him again, having him near and having to guard her emotions against him left
her limp with exhaustion. For a few moments, she could only cover her head with
her arms and cry out in painful recognition that her carefully crafted life had
shattered with his reappearance.

His
unexpected arrival had always been a possibility. If he ever showed up—when he
showed up—she had thought she was prepared to withstand his possible
disapproval, anger, or even hostility. All of those emotions she’d anticipated.
But pleasure, delight, or elation? Those were options she’d never considered.

What
if he wanted joint custody? Her heart jumped to her throat as she imagined
having to share her son. Wyatt didn’t know anything about children, and he’d
have the right to take care of Sean. To take him places. Places outside the
house. Away from Kara. Possibly on an airplane, since he’d most certainly want
to take him to Atlanta to meet his relatives.

Or
in a car.

God,
no. I absolutely will not allow that to happen. She flew up the stairs to check
on her baby, sleeping like an angel with his blanket. Standing beside his crib,
she watched him until her breathing slowed and she replaced panic with reason.

Wyatt
had the patience of a saint but had he ever spent more than five minutes with a
two-year-old? Probably not. What interest would he have in building block
towers only to knock them down, or in rolling a ball endlessly back and forth?
None whatsoever.

Between
teaching in California and the family businesses in Atlanta, his interests in
the arts, and the legion of women who pursued him, he’d probably forget about
Sean as soon as the novelty wore off. Tiptoeing from the nursery, she stopped
on a new thought halfway down the hall.

Atlanta!
Once Wyatt’s mother knew about Sean, she’d never leave them in peace. Rosalie
would never let Wyatt forget his son for one minute. Her grandchild. Her second
grandson. And with the resources of the powerful Maitlands at their disposal,
how effective would Kara’s efforts be to keep Sean to herself?

She
quaked at the thought of sharing and losing another son. Wyatt’s emotional and
geographic distances were two of the reasons she’d originally considered him
acceptable father-material. Mike, Adam’s father, had been hands-on and
ever-present. She’d loved him completely, but look what had happened.

Turning,
she went downstairs to the kitchen. She paced the hardwood floor, round and
round the island. The faster she paced, the sharper the memories that raced
alongside her. Confusing recollections of the healing time she’d spent with
Wyatt jumbled together with other, earlier memories too painful to bear.

Indiana.
The blizzard. The police officers at her door. The adult-sized coffin beside
the tiny one.

No,
no, no, no! She would not relive those moments again. She needed to keep busy
or she’d go crazy. Glancing around the kitchen, her gaze fell to the floor. All
week, she’d intended to make time to mop the floor. Now seemed like a good
opportunity. Sean played on this floor. It couldn’t be too clean.

As
she scoured, she planned.

One
improbable scenario after another flitted through her brain, and while she plotted,
a sense of relief mingled with her fears.

And
throughout her confusion ran the taunting image of her undeniable physical
reaction to Wyatt. And their kiss. And his reaction to her. Followed by visions
of making love in the sunset, dancing in the moonlight, and waking up to shared
moments of tenderness in the first light of day.

Whatever
the price to herself, she must set aside her personal response to Wyatt and
focus on what was best for Sean.

She
and Sean didn’t need Wyatt’s help, his financial support, or his presence in
their lives. Ever since her son’s birth, she had been in command of every
detail, of every decision that affected him. But suddenly, Wyatt controlled a
part of Sean’s future. In the blink of an eye, she’d been relegated to a reactionary
position. But not for long.

Even
if she was forced to allow Wyatt into Sean’s life, if would be on her terms.

When
the doorknocker sounded at eight the next morning, Kara answered the summons
with Sean in her arms. If she hadn’t been holding her son, she would have been
tempted to reach for his father.

Instead
of the Fortune 500 business attire Wyatt had worn the night before, this
morning he sported jeans, a black t-shirt and a brown jacket. Probably from the
GQ casual-adventurer line. All three items fit him to perfection and made Kara
want to rip them off with her teeth to get to the muscular body beneath them.
But there would be none of that ever again. There were more important issues at
hand.

Her
heart turned over as the child and the man exchanged identical grins.

Wyatt
held up a paper bag that might come in handy later, if she began to
hyper-ventilate. “I don't know what a two-year-old eats, but I remember Allie
pitching a fit when anyone gave Xander donuts. I hope blueberry muffins are a
better choice.” He chucked Sean under the chin with an index finger, then did
the same to Kara. “I remember that you like them.”

Sniffing,
she wanted to refuse the offering. She had no real grounds to do so except that
his good humor and unfailing memory irritated her worse than a case poison ivy.
“I’m fixing oatmeal for him, but he can have a muffin, too.”

Wyatt
followed them to the kitchen. When he remained silent, she looked at him over her
shoulder and found him making goofy faces at Sean. His uncharacteristic
boyishness annoyed the bejeesus out of her, but she bit her tongue, determined
to continue her usual morning routine.

After
buckling Sean into his high chair, Kara snapped a bib around his neck, and then
removed a bowl from the microwave. She dipped her little finger in to test the
oatmeal’s temperature before she gave it to him.

“I’ll
feed that to him.” Wyatt pulled up a chair in front of the tray.

“He’ll
feed himself. He does pretty well with a spoon.” Kara watched, almost, but not
quite, amused to see Wyatt so eager to involve himself in fatherly tasks. “If
you sit that close, you’ll wind up covered in oatmeal.”

“I’m
washable.” He looked around the kitchen from the washed pine cabinets to the
granite countertops, the copper clad pots, and the gleaming hardwood. “This is
great. Very warm and friendly.”

“Thanks.”
She handed Sean a sipper cup filled with milk. Placing the muffins on a
platter, she surreptitiously inhaled. They smelled like heaven. Slicing one in
fourths, she gave the child one of the sections, and popped one in her mouth.
“Coffee?” she asked Wyatt.

“Sure,
thanks,” he said, snitching a muffin bit for himself. He asked Sean, “Is that
good?”

Sean
held out his spoon for Wyatt to take a bite. Kara expected him to pretend to
sample the cereal, but he leaned over and actually tasted it, smacking his lips
with exaggerated pleasure. “Mmm, delicious.”

“Dee-yicious,”
Sean agreed.

Wyatt
accepted a muffin and coffee, but he kept his full attention on the child. Most
of Sean’s running commentary sounded incomprehensible to the untrained ear.
Several times Wyatt needed Kara to interpret the toddler’s unique vocabulary.

“Down,”
Sean commanded at last.

“Hang
on, little man,” Kara said. “Let’s wash your face and hands first.”

She
performed the clean-up, and then stood Sean on the floor. A pang of jealousy
stabbed her as he ran to Wyatt. Standing between his knees, the boy hung an arm
over each sturdy thigh and lifted his feet from the floor. He swung himself
from Wyatt’s legs, then looked up and grinned. “Play toys?”

“Sure.”
Wyatt lifted him onto his lap and turned to Kara. “What does he like to play?
And where?”

Kara
nodded toward the family room. “Put him down. He’ll show you.”

She
intended to straighten the kitchen, but couldn’t seem to allow the two of them
to go off alone together even a few feet away from her. Instead, she watched
the unflappable gazillionaire gamely stack blocks, sort shapes, hammer plastic
pegs, and make chugging sounds as Sean sent a wooden train hurtling around a
track. If Wyatt kept on like this, damn, him, she’d have to admit he’d be a
positive addition to Sean’s life.

The
ease with which the two took to one another caused Kara equal parts of
resentment and pride. She couldn’t help but be pleased when Sean brought her a
carousel to wind up. But when the horses whirled and the music began to play,
he promptly carried it back to Wyatt.