behind his desk. “It’s good to see you.” He coughed and held in a groan as she crossed long legs, giving him a glimpse of the chocolate silk of her inner thighs as her skirt rose above her knees. “How have you been?”
She wet full, glossy lips. “Fine. How about you?”
“Well. A bit anxious to hear from you.”
Janelle’s hands twisted in her lap and her large eyes grew moist. “We’re having a baby,” she whispered.
The sight of her tears nearly undid him, squashing his burgeoning excitement. Was she that unhappy about having his baby? He yanked out a couple of tissues from the box he kept on the corner of his desk and rounded the furniture, stopping when he crouched at her side. “Don’t cry.”
Her lower lip quivered a bit as she accepted the proffered tissues. “I’m sorry. I’m not going to cry. It’s the hormones. I tear up at everything. Have you ever noticed how sad commercials are?”
His eyes widened. “Um, no.” He glanced at his watch. “Listen, let me take you to dinner and we can discuss our options.”
“I’m not getting an abortion. It’s my baby, too, and this may not have been planned, but I want it.”
Aidan inhaled sharply. He was relieved that she wanted the baby, but disappointed that she would think that he’d want her to end the pregnancy. He reminded himself that she didn’t know him that well and that she probably hadn’t performed an Internet search on him as he’d done on her. “I would have never asked you to do that.”
Her brow wrinkled. “You said options.”
“Yes, but abortion isn’t one of them.” He stood and assisted her to her feet. “Come along. We can eat at my place. My housekeeper usually makes enough food for an army.”
* * * *
Janelle stared the great heaping plate of pasta Aidan placed before her. There was no way she’d be able to eat all of it. He sat across from her. They were seated at the small breakfast area adjacent to his kitchen rather than the large dining table he’d used during his house warming party.
Twirling noodles on her fork, she watched him beneath lowered lashes. She wondered what kind of options Aidan intended to propose. “So what did you—”
“Did you—” They’d begun talking at the same time. They stopped simultaneously. “Please, you go first,” Aidan said.
“I was going to ask about your options.”
“Oh.” He lifted his wine glass and sipped. “Well, there is the obvious, that we could share custody.”
“Yes.” She could have breathed a sigh of relief. She’d had two fears when confronting him with the pregnancy. One was that he wouldn’t want to have the baby and would try to force her to have an abortion so that she didn’t prove to be a drain on his finances. The other was that he would want complete custody so that he wasn’t saddled with her, a woman from which he’d only wanted a quick tumble.
“But if we do it that way, then we commit ourselves to a lifetime of dividing holidays, with the possibility of the occasional shared one.”
She stroked a finger over her frosted glass of tea. “That’s generally how it works.”
“I was raised by two parents. How about you?”
“Yes.”
“I want that for our child.”
“So what do you suggest?” She sipped her tea. It was satisfyingly sweet, just as she liked it.
“Marry me.”
Tea dribbled out of her slack mouth. She grabbed her napkin and dried her chin. “What?”
“Hear me out. It could be a platonic arrangement. We’d live together, raise our son or daughter together—”
She held up a hand to halt him. “So your idea is a loveless marriage?”
His gold eyes burned into hers. “I didn’t say that. Over time, I believe we could develop a friendship and perhaps more.”
“Aidan, that’s too much of a sacrifice to ask.” For him and for her.
“Think about it, Janelle. This would be for our child.”
“Children grow up in one-parent households everyday—”
“But ours doesn’t have to. If
She wet full, glossy lips. “Fine. How about you?”
“Well. A bit anxious to hear from you.”
Janelle’s hands twisted in her lap and her large eyes grew moist. “We’re having a baby,” she whispered.
The sight of her tears nearly undid him, squashing his burgeoning excitement. Was she that unhappy about having his baby? He yanked out a couple of tissues from the box he kept on the corner of his desk and rounded the furniture, stopping when he crouched at her side. “Don’t cry.”
Her lower lip quivered a bit as she accepted the proffered tissues. “I’m sorry. I’m not going to cry. It’s the hormones. I tear up at everything. Have you ever noticed how sad commercials are?”
His eyes widened. “Um, no.” He glanced at his watch. “Listen, let me take you to dinner and we can discuss our options.”
“I’m not getting an abortion. It’s my baby, too, and this may not have been planned, but I want it.”
Aidan inhaled sharply. He was relieved that she wanted the baby, but disappointed that she would think that he’d want her to end the pregnancy. He reminded himself that she didn’t know him that well and that she probably hadn’t performed an Internet search on him as he’d done on her. “I would have never asked you to do that.”
Her brow wrinkled. “You said options.”
“Yes, but abortion isn’t one of them.” He stood and assisted her to her feet. “Come along. We can eat at my place. My housekeeper usually makes enough food for an army.”
* * * *
Janelle stared the great heaping plate of pasta Aidan placed before her. There was no way she’d be able to eat all of it. He sat across from her. They were seated at the small breakfast area adjacent to his kitchen rather than the large dining table he’d used during his house warming party.
Twirling noodles on her fork, she watched him beneath lowered lashes. She wondered what kind of options Aidan intended to propose. “So what did you—”
“Did you—” They’d begun talking at the same time. They stopped simultaneously. “Please, you go first,” Aidan said.
“I was going to ask about your options.”
“Oh.” He lifted his wine glass and sipped. “Well, there is the obvious, that we could share custody.”
“Yes.” She could have breathed a sigh of relief. She’d had two fears when confronting him with the pregnancy. One was that he wouldn’t want to have the baby and would try to force her to have an abortion so that she didn’t prove to be a drain on his finances. The other was that he would want complete custody so that he wasn’t saddled with her, a woman from which he’d only wanted a quick tumble.
“But if we do it that way, then we commit ourselves to a lifetime of dividing holidays, with the possibility of the occasional shared one.”
She stroked a finger over her frosted glass of tea. “That’s generally how it works.”
“I was raised by two parents. How about you?”
“Yes.”
“I want that for our child.”
“So what do you suggest?” She sipped her tea. It was satisfyingly sweet, just as she liked it.
“Marry me.”
Tea dribbled out of her slack mouth. She grabbed her napkin and dried her chin. “What?”
“Hear me out. It could be a platonic arrangement. We’d live together, raise our son or daughter together—”
She held up a hand to halt him. “So your idea is a loveless marriage?”
His gold eyes burned into hers. “I didn’t say that. Over time, I believe we could develop a friendship and perhaps more.”
“Aidan, that’s too much of a sacrifice to ask.” For him and for her.
“Think about it, Janelle. This would be for our child.”
“Children grow up in one-parent households everyday—”
“But ours doesn’t have to. If
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