Looking down at Kailey, I whisper, “I would’ve never agreed.”
“And who are you?” Kailey asks.
Maggie gives a half smile. She’s not a big smiler by nature. That’s about all you get out of her except on very rare occasions. “Kailey, this is Maggie. She’s my publicist, and . . .”
“And everything else,” Maggie says, extending her hand to Kailey, who folds her arms across her chest.
Kailey looks up at me. “You let her do this. You let her put that picture up on national television. You let her ruin my life.”
“I didn’t know,” I say, throwing Maggie a death stare, still unable to believe she went that far. She crossed a line, and believe me, she knows it.
“For argument’s sake, let’s say I believe that,” Kailey says.
“Good, because it’s the truth.”
“Then why is she still working for you?” Kailey asks.
If Maggie ever laughed, it would be now. “She’s been with me since I was playing street corners in Nashville,” I say, flashing another look to Maggie. “She won’t do anything like this again.”
“You have to understand, my job is to protect Ryder,” Maggie says.
“From me, or at my expense?” Kailey asks. “I told you I didn’t want anything from him.”
“Mostly from himself,” Maggie says, smirking at me. “You blew him off when he came to your sister’s. You didn’t come to the charity show. You wouldn’t talk to him. He wanted to talk to you. I made it happen. You’re here now.”
“So you win, and my life will never be the same,” Kailey says, wiping her face.
“It won’t happen again,” I say softly, taking one of Kailey’s hands. “Maggie knows she overstepped.”
Kailey’s hand slips out of mine, and she turns, walking to the windows that line the back of the house. God, she looks wounded. She crosses her arms like she’s giving herself a hug, the shirt of her pajamas tightening around her, making her little baby bump more noticeable.
This is a lot, and it’s not even ten in the morning yet. I know she needs some time, but patience has never been my strong suit, and it’s not Maggie’s, either. Clearly in a hurry to wrap this up, Maggie turns to me and asks, “So you signing the purchase papers on the house or not?”
Kailey’s eyes fly to me. I know her answer. Against my better judgment, I say, “Not just yet.”
Maggie whips out her phone. “Okay, then, I’ll have the delivery made to the hotel.”
“What delivery?” Kailey asks. “What hotel?”
“The hotel where I’m staying,” I say.
“I’m not going to any hotel with you!” she snaps. “That’s what got me in this situation!”
I like that she mentioned our night together—it puts a grin on my face. She can act like it was the biggest mistake of her life all she wants, but the blush on her cheeks tells a different story.
“You can’t go back to your sister’s. You’re not sure about this house. That leaves you staying with me,” I say.
“Then why are we going to a hotel?” she asks.
“I move around a lot,” I say. “I prefer hotels to a house.”
“You don’t own a house?” she asks.
“No.”
“A condo? An apartment? Anything?”
“No.”
“So you’re basically homeless?” she asks.
“We should go,” Maggie says, motioning with her hand for us to get moving. “It won’t take long before the paparazzi figure out where you are.”
I give her a nod, then place my hand at the small of Kailey’s back, attempting to lead her out to the car, but she steps away from me, hurrying to the door, not even allowing me to open it for her.
Stepping outside, the sun temporarily blinds me. Pretty much every day is sunny here. You’d think that would help Kailey’s mood, but it’s going to take more than the California sun to fix this.
Geoffrey steps towards me, saying, “I’ll follow you, sir.”
I open the passenger car door for Kailey to get in, but she says, “I’ll ride with Geoffrey.”
Geoffrey smiles, like he’d be happy to take her. Leave it to Kailey to charm the baddest motherfucking security guard money can buy.
“We’re having a child together,” I say. “It would be nice if his or her parents could spend thirty minutes alone together, don’t you think?”
Kailey releases a deep breath before sliding in the passenger seat. “Fine! But I will find my own place to stay.”
“Afraid to be alone with me?” I ask.
Right as she opens her mouth to give me some attitude, I slam her car door closed then walk around to get behind the wheel. As soon as I open my door, she lets loose, saying, “I’ll get my own hotel room!”
I eye her up and down. “In your pajamas?”
“This is California. I’ve seen worse things walking down the street.”
“With what money?” I ask, quickly regretting my words when I watch as her eyes fill with tears. I hate sounding like an arrogant prick. She looks down, smoothly her shirt down over her belly. “Shit, I’m sorry,” I say.
“I hate feeling helpless,” she confesses in a whisper.
Releasing a deep breath, I say, “You’re not. I’ve got clothes, a phone, everything you might need at the hotel. That’s the delivery Maggie was talking about.”
She wipes her cheek then turns her head, staring out the window as I start the car. What a fucking mess this is. Honestly, I expected her to be pissed, but I didn’t count on her ability to wrap me around her little finger so easily. The house should’ve been a non-negotiable, but maybe it’s for the best. If I can convince her to stay with me, that would be even better, but I have to get her to stop yelling at me first.
“Where does your mail get delivered?” she asks quietly.
“Huh?”
“Your mail?” she says, turning her head to me. “If you don’t have a permanent address, where does your mail get delivered?”
“Maggie takes care of all that.”
“Is this car even yours?” she asks.
I can’t help but grin. “Rental.”
“Of course,” she mumbles. “Can’t commit to a house, a car, or a woman.”
Damn it! I guess my lifestyle doesn’t exude dependability, but I have reasons for my lack of material possessions, and commitment has nothing to do with it. I look over at her, her legs curled under her. “You understand why I had Geoffrey come get you, right?”
“Kidnap me,” she snaps.
“I want to make sure you and the baby are safe.”
“Just find some tower to lock me away in,” she says.
Pregnancy has made her dramatic. “That’s the reason,” I say, “but even if your identity hadn’t gotten out, I’d still be knocking on your door every day until you saw me.”
“I should’ve never found you,” she says.
I know she doesn’t mean that. Granted, we spent less than a day with each other, but you still get a sense about a person, and she’s just pissed right now.