Indefinite

by Corinne Michaels

  “I see you called out of work.”

  “Not that it’s any of your business . . .”

  Quinn smirks. “No, it’s not, and I wasn’t judging. I missed you and wanted to talk.”

  My pulse spikes as fear hits me. What if he knows? What if Gretchen told Ben and he told Quinn? “Haven’t we done enough talking?” I ask, hoping he’ll reveal whatever it is he wants to discuss.

  Quinn steps forward. “You see, I think that’s the issue. We don’t talk, as you once pointed out. We never really have. We were together for years, but in that time, I was gone and you were here. It got me thinking, why would you believe me when I’ve never told you how I feel?” I take a step back, wondering what the hell has gotten into him. “Then I came back, thinking I could explain to you I had changed, but when that didn’t work, I forced you to be around me when you didn’t want to be, which was dumb.”

  “Yes, that is all true.”

  He looks up, and the determination in his eyes stuns me. “I want to prove it, Ashton. I want to show you that I mean what I say by giving you what you need. I haven’t done that.”

  “I think when we slept together it was a clear indication . . .”

  “No.” He shakes his head. “That night was the opposite of what I wanted to show you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  I thought the night we slept together was exactly what we do. We fight. We have sex. We mess everything up and then pretend it never happened. Only, this time, I won’t be able to pretend. I walked away with more than just the proverbial T-shirt.

  “I’m in love with you. So deeply in love with you that I don’t think there will ever be a way out. I know you don’t believe me, and I’ve done a pretty wonderful job of screwing up any chances to prove it, but that ends today. I don’t want angry sex, well”—Quinn smirks—“that’s a lie. I definitely want that, but not because you’re trying to make me leave you. Things are going to be different for us.”

  “Really? How?”

  Quinn takes another step forward. “I want us to date.”

  I stare at him, waiting for the punchline. “Didn’t we do that for three years? Didn’t pan out so well.”

  “We didn’t date, Ash. Not seriously. So, I would like to know if you’d be willing to have dinner with me or lunch or breakfast or, hell, just a snack?”

  “Are you seriously asking me on a date? Like a real date where you pick me up, pay, and I get all dressed up?”

  Quinn nods. “Not very well, it seems.”

  In all the time we’ve been together, I don’t think that’s ever happened. When we started our relationship, there wasn’t anything official. I was in Virginia Beach, we met, we were attracted to each other, and we slept together. Since it was really freaking good, we kept doing it. Then we were . . . a couple.

  Dates were more of us hanging out and lots of fantastic sex.

  But can I date him? I mean, we’re going to have a baby. I don’t know that it could ruin things any more than they already are. I love the stupid jerk. I’m already pregnant. What’s the harm in dating?

  There’s always the risk of getting my hopes destroyed. Although, I don’t have any hope that he’s serious this time. So, that should take care of that.

  “I’m not sure what to say . . .”

  He smiles and takes another step forward, clasping my hand in his. “Ashton Caputo, will you go on a date with me?”

  Butterflies take flight in my stomach, reminding me of how much Quinn can wreak havoc on my heart. Regardless, I would like us to find a way not to be enemies. It would make this less painful for both of us in the long run.

  “How about we start with something a little easier?” I offer.

  “Easier?”

  “Yeah, I took off today since I didn’t sleep much last night, so why don’t you do some sightseeing with me? If that goes well and I don’t throw you off the top of the Empire State Building, then we’ll have dinner. We can . . . just . . . be friends first.”

  Quinn grins and brings my hand to his lips, pressing with the slightest pressure. “I can’t wait for dinner.”

  So damn sure of himself. “I wouldn’t put the cart before the horse, Ladykiller.”

  His eyes meet mine, and I see the mischief in them. “They call me that for a reason.”

  I snort. “Yeah, because after a day with you, most women want to kill themselves . . . or you.”

  The sound of his laughter is so freeing I can’t help but smile. He pulls me into his arms, chest vibrating with the deep timbre of his amusement. “I guess we’ll find out how it goes today.”

  I extricate myself from his embrace. “Yeah, I guess we will.”

  No matter how charming he is, I will not allow myself to enjoy it.

  20

  Quinn

  I’ve visited Ashton in New York for a day or two in the past, but we usually spent our time holed up in her apartment, making up for lost time. I’ve never gotten to see the city like this.

  “And this is Times Square,” she says as we stand in the center.

  “It’s seriously exactly like I always thought it would be.”

  “How’s that?”

  I look around, watching the billboards change every few seconds, people snapping photos, the looks of awe on peoples’ faces as they are taking it in, and the crystal ball sitting there and reminding everyone that this is where the mark of the new year happens. “Just that it would be cool.”

  Ashton nods as she scans the crowds. “No matter what time of day, it’s always like this. When it’s dark out, it’s amazing. The brightness of these few blocks is pretty nuts and you can’t even begin to process it all because there’s too much to look at. We’ll have to make sure we come back at night sometime.”

  “I would like that,” I answer.

  She said we and night. I’m going to take that as a win. So far, I’ve done everything I could to keep it light and make her smile. We have talked about what she wanted to see on the train and her very non-plan of a plan to maximize the day. The only thing I asked her to see was the Empire State Building.

  My plan is to get her to Central Park, though. I got a tip from a friend of hers that it’s her favorite place. She and Catherine used to go there around lunch and she swears there’s magic there.

  “Okay.” There’s a sense of unease in her voice.

  “What about shopping on 5th Avenue?” I change the subject, not wanting her to go in her head. God knows that’s never a good thing. We’ve managed to keep all talk of us and a future completely out of our conversations. I think that’s the best option if I have any hopes at dinner.

  Her smile is wide. “Tiffany’s is on 5th.”

  I knew that was coming. Gretchen also happened to mention that a man in the dog house could always inch a little farther out with a certain blue box.

  Hell, I’m so far inside that house I’ll need several blue boxes to gain an inch out of it. “Do you want to go?”

  Ashton’s eyes narrow. “Do cows like to moo?”

  “I’m not sure if they like it or if it’s a reflex.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “I know this. Do you want to go?”

  She looks as though she’s at war with herself, but I don’t know that she can avoid the pull to shop. “Why do you want to go?”

  I take a step closer. “We’re on a trip to see all the things in the city, and isn’t that part of it?”

  “I hope you know what you’re asking for,” Ashton tells me as she runs her hand along my chest.

  “All I’m asking is for you to enjoy the day.”

  “Well, if a trip to Tiffany’s is in the cards, then you’ve secured that.”

  And then I’m going to take you to the park, and after that, I’m going to do whatever else I can to give you a day you never forget.

  “Good. Lead the way,” I say extending my arm.

  We take the subway, and for the first time since I came back, Ashton seems relaxed ar
ound me. There are no seats and all the poles are taken, so I find a space and pull her against my chest, allowing her to use me as the pole. I stand, unmoving, hoping she sees that I want to be what holds her up. I don’t want to tear her down or allow her to fall, but I’m not delusional enough to think her trust will happen without a fight.

  Not with her.

  She’s going to make me work long and hard.

  Once we reach our stop and exit the subway, the loss of her touch is all I can focus on. For those few minutes, I felt alive again. I take her hand and wrap it around my arm. She looks over, and her eyes dance to where her hand is resting. “What is this for?”

  “I don’t want you to get lost.”

  Ashton smirks with one of her classic eye rolls. “Right.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I don’t believe that’s the reason you want me to hold on to you, but . . .”

  “But you’ll go with it?”

  She shrugs. “For now.”

  We walk a bit and this side of the city is no less busy, but it’s nothing like Times Square. People aren’t snapping pictures like crazy, they’re just moving around with bags from whatever stores they were in. It feels slightly calmer.

  “Here we are,” Ashton announces.

  “So this is the Tiffany’s?”

  “The very one.”

  My plan was to let her pick out a few things, not giving a shit about how much money it costs me because she’s more than owed it, but now I want to be the one to choose. I want to show her that I know her. If she picks it out, then it’s less meaningful.

  “Do you want to go in?”

  Ashton shrugs. “Do you?”

  Fuck, I’m screwing this up already. “Come on, let’s go look.”

  Her smile brightens, and she nods. “I’ve never gotten a box.”

  “Never?” I ask with a bit of smug pride building inside. I don’t want any other man to give her things. I want to be the one who does these things from now on. She will have whatever firsts I can provide.

  I want to ruin her for any other man or the idea that there could be another man, just like she’s ruined me.

  “You were tipped off!” She accuses as we enter Central Park.

  “About what?”

  “My love of this place, you sneaky asshole. You and my friends are dead to me.”

  Her friends aren’t my only allies in this fight. I had a very long talk with her parents, explaining what my feelings and intentions are. She knows her dad is on my side, but she has no idea her mother has switched allegiances. While I may have won over the people in her life, I know I haven’t come close to getting her there.

  “Go easy on them, fragolina, I can be very persuasive.”

  Ashton huffs. “Yeah, I see that.”

  I move to take her hand, but she surprises me by doing it first. Her fingers wrap around my arm as we move through the park. “Are you getting hungry?” I ask.

  “A little, but it’s so nice out, so let’s enjoy the warmth and fresh air for a bit.”

  “It’s much better than the dungeons of your lab, isn’t it?”

  She laughs. “Yeah, it’s a bit dark there, but I love what I do.”

  So much so that you’re going to do it to yourself.

  I stop myself because fighting with her is the last damn thing I want. I need to be patient. The fucking idea of her pregnant with another man’s baby makes me absolutely out of my mind with rage, but I will not show my hand.

  I lost that right when I let her walk out that door. At least that’s what Liam, Natalie, Catherine, Gretchen, and Ben have reminded me of. Each one has not so subtly explained that pushing her is the biggest mistake I could make.

  And that if she does this, it’ll be something I have to accept.

  Which isn’t going to happen because I have a few weeks to make her fall in love with me again.

  “If you couldn’t be in the lab, what would you do?”

  Ashton stares off as she purses her lips. “I don’t know. How sad is that?”

  “I don’t think it’s sad,” I tell her with honesty. “I feel the same way. If I couldn’t be a SEAL, I don’t know what I’d do. Maybe I’d work for Jackson, which would be the closest I could be to actually doing what I love.”

  She tilts her head. “I guess I would teach. I love that part of my job. When we have a small change that leads to a breakthrough. Having something exciting that I can share gives me this immense joy. I would want to help others like that, you know?”

  I have no idea what she means, but the elation on her face makes my heart pound against my chest. “I could see every guy in your class needing extra help.”

  “You’re stupid.”

  “You’re gorgeous.”

  She stops, and her smile widens. “Well, that was sweet.”

  “Sweet enough to earn me dinner?”

  Her lips press into a thin line as she tries to hide her grin, but her eyes? They give it away. “Well, at least lunch.”

  “It’s a start.”

  “Yeah, I guess it is.”

  21

  Ashton

  “And did you agree to dinner?” Clara asks before she pops a wonton into her mouth.

  “No, I didn’t. Not this time. But there was a hot coffee sitting at my door when I left this morning, which was sweet.”

  “Yeah.” She smiles. “He had to wake up early to go get it for you.”

  “I know, it was . . . thoughtful.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  “Tell him about the baby?”

  Clara throws a fortune cookie at me. “No, I figured you didn’t do that yet. I mean did you tell him you thought it was sweet. Guys need reassurance, and Lord knows you’re the worst at that.”

  She’s not wrong, but I bristle in my seat anyway. “No, I’ll do that though.”

  We both fall silent, and then she brings the conversation back around to what the purpose of this lunch is. The case isn’t complex, but there’s been multiple issues with the eggs before. This woman has undergone so much to try to conceive, and each time, there’s been a loss. I don’t know how Clara handles watching someone go from elation that she’s pregnant to utter devastation when something goes wrong.

  “I think the last issue was with the actual embryo,” I tell her as I twist my fork around the Lo Mein. “It didn’t look bad under the microscope the first time, but there was a change right before we did the implantation.”

  Clara and I inspected it, and it was within the margin of error, plus it was the second to last egg. We both felt it would’ve been a mistake if we didn’t try.

  When she actually got pregnant, we were both beyond happy. Now, I wonder if we didn’t screw up.

  “Hopefully, with the measures we are all taking, the last one will have a different result,” Clara says with a bit of hope.

  “It’s the last idea we have.”

  “Yeah, pregnancy is such a mystery sometimes.”

  Sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn’t.

  “Speaking of . . .” Clara grins. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine.”

  She puts her chopsticks down and her features soften. “Ashton, let’s be honest here. You’re not fine. You called out of work yesterday to tour New York City. You’re having a baby, and that’s a big deal. Not to mention the guy is now courting you.”

  That’s funny. “Courting me?”

  “Well, what the hell would you call it?”

  I don’t know, trying to get back in my good graces, which he’s actually accomplishing.

  “He bought me flowers.”

  “Yes, he did. And he’s given you coffee, talked to your parents, gave you some orgasms . . .”

  “Thanks for reminding me,” I say as I lean back in my chair. “I don’t know, Clara. It scares me to let him in. I wish it were all just a little simpler.”

  Clara smiles. “Nothing is ever simple.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.”


  “I’m not trying to make you sad. I only want to make sure you know what you’re giving up if you push him away. Not everyone who gets accidentally pregnant has it happen with a guy who loves her and is willing to fight for her.”

  She’s right. He wants to fight, but he doesn’t know what he’s up against. Will things change? Will he run away? Will he even stay long enough to find out the news before he heads back and signs the papers? I don’t know. He is a SEAL who loves his job, and I’m not sold that he means it when he says that he loves me more.

  Quinn has talked about weakness, and I worry a child will be the ultimate one.

  “I appreciate it, but Quinn will walk away because we don’t want the same things. This is what he does when it comes to me. I’ll give him credit that this has lasted longer than the last time, and he’s definitely trying new methods, but I don’t know. I’m focusing on the baby and the fact that I saved a boatload of cash and got what I wanted.”

  She releases a heavy sigh and then leans forward. “I’m happy for you. I envy that you’re getting something you want. My husband never wanted kids, and at the time, I didn’t either. Especially thanks to the way I grew up. I thought I would be like my mother, and . . . well . . . time has a way of changing the things you want. By the time I did want to have kids, it was too late for me. I think it worked out okay, though. I could never have been half the doctor I am if I was trying to raise a family.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  Her dark brown eyes look away before coming back to me. “Mac and I thought about it for a minute last year, but he’s working so much at the bank, I’m here . . . it wouldn’t work. I don’t know that I regret it, but I think my daddy wishes I gave him grandkids. To answer your question though, no, I don’t regret it. I wanted the career, and a family was on the backburner.”

  It’s the one part that worries me too. I work insane hours. Sometimes, I’m here for fourteen hours a day when we’re really busy. There are times I need to come in the middle of the night because an alarm or something goes off. I don’t know how I’ll do any of this and take care of a child, but I’ll do it.