Chapter Thirty-Eight
Leland
At first after Richard, it was like I’d finally swum up out of muddy water, and then it was like I was drowning again.
Richard. Decisions. My life. My wants as a man. Who I was and who he was at war in an entirely new, more perilous way. And for every ten reasons I came up with not to go to Georgetown, they were answered only with one, the same one: I wanted Richard.
I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. Time ticked onward toward Monday. As stupid as it seemed, it felt as though if I didn’t go, this chance at us would be lost forever.
Losing Richard a second time; no, I didn’t want that after the miracle of having found each other again.
Problems. So many problems. I couldn’t leave Layla alone in the house. It was too dangerous to place trust in her at that level, even under Rosa’s watchful eyes.
Disappearing on Jena during a field operation was just as perilous. Especially with her heightened concern that the FBI had an open investigation on me and she couldn’t track down the source of it.
Risking having my cartel associates find out I’d become the lover of a federal agent assigned to a joint task force in Mexico City was pure insanity. Hector had eyes watching all through the city. It’d be foolish to think he wouldn’t discover this.
The only element of my trap keeping Richard from my grasp I could easily eliminate—or rather remove—was Layla.
It was where I decided to start to fix my existence more into something less hazard-ridden for Leland.
We were eating dinner alone in the patio courtyard, as Layla liked to. No Jamie, but that wasn’t because of her. I wasn’t even remotely interested in being with him again. Not with Richard fresh in my body and very much in my mind.
I set down my wine and smiled at her. “How do you feel about taking a trip? Getting out of Mexico City for a while.”
Her blond brows puckered. “A trip. I don’t understand. Where would we go?”
I smiled. “You’ve never seen my house in Montecito. I thought you might like to spend some time in California getting the house ready for us before we move back permanently.”
“Permanently? I don’t understand.”
“I’ve already told you I wouldn’t be working in Mexico forever. I’m a Californian. I’d always planned to go back there.”
“Yes, but why now? Would we go there, Leland, or just me?”
Fuck, she sounded worried.
I took her hand and kissed her fingers. “You. I thought you’d like the idea of being away from me. You haven’t been back in the US for a long time. I think it’s time you make that move.”
Her delicate face twisted with anxiety and fear as she shook her head.
“It’s nothing to be alarmed about. I would never let anything happen to you and I’ll always take care of you. I promise, Layla. There’s nothing to fear.”
“You’re sending me away.” She closed her eyes. “That’s everything to fear for me. Why do you want me gone? What have I done?”
“Nothing. We’re friends. We always will be.”
Her potent blue stare filled me with unease. “Then don’t send me away.”
“It’s not sending you away. I’m giving you back your life,” I snapped in frustration.
Christ, why did the girl cling to me? It’d been months since I’d fucked her. I spent more and more time away from her and with Jamie. We coexisted, nothing more together. I’d never intended to keep her as my wife. I’d told her that ad nauseum.
I noted too late how my harsh voice affected her. Raking back my hair, I struggled against how unexpectedly difficult this was for me. I needed more freedom and fewer eyes on me. And fuck, what kind of slave didn’t want freedom as well?
“Tell me why you’re upset,” I said in a soothing voice.
She stared down at her plate, her dainty mouth puckered. “Leland, I’m pregnant.”
I could feel the blood draining from my face.
Oh fuck.
* * *
Clutching my skull, I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling. Pregnant. It was the only word in my head and banged around with such force I was numb.
How the fuck could I have let that happen?
Shit. Shit. Shit.
She was young and always slick. Without having a need to go for lube, I fucking forgot the rubbers. I’d fucked her bareback each and every time she’d come to my bed.
Jesus Christ, why the fuck had she let me?
Was this deliberate on her part?
Another cat trying not to drown move?
Women were always more cunning than men.
Fuck, what should I do now?
I was a NOC.
There was no getting out of the CIA.
A baby didn’t fit with that equation.
Shit.
It felt like the world was crushing in on me. I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t escape reality. Shuttling Layla off now wasn’t possible. Only the coldest bastard could do that to her, and I was far from that—at least I wanted to believe it was so.
Richard was lost. There was no managing Georgetown and this. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen in my world. Leland Edward Jensen the third—associate of criminals, covert spy, and gay—was becoming a father.
I wondered if my father had felt this way when he’d found out about me? I started to laugh. It wasn’t funny, but laughter felt better than tears.