by Taryn Quinn
But he couldn’t. Not until he knew why she’d lied. And getting the lube wasn’t going to bring him one iota closer to the answer. He needed to be honest with her and demand the same. Perhaps she’d have a good explanation and then they could—
What? Play house? Have crazy sex until her baby was born, at which time he’d give it—and her—his last name and they’d all live happily ever after?
He rubbed his temple and opened her bedroom door. This was all going too fast. He should turn around and insist they talk. She’d tell him that she was hot for his cock or something along those lines but just didn’t see him as anything beyond a lover. Surely that would cool his ardor. He didn’t chase women who didn’t want him. Ever. Talking would be the best move all the way around.
Instead he went to her nightstand and took out the small tube of lube—raspberry flavored, of course, to match her shampoo—from where it was so nicely nestled next to a pink, curved item that was not a motorized toothbrush, despite the fact it had little bristly-looking things on one end. Beside that was a loop of something silky that she probably didn’t use as a hair tie.
Quickly, he closed the drawer. He was so out of his depth in this arena. That didn’t mean he couldn’t learn to swim, right? Motivation and desire were as important as inherent skill. And he’d always been a fast learner.
Even so, it took him a couple of minutes to get his wits about him enough to return to his bedroom. Stupid to be nervous. He’d always managed to pleasure her so far. Well, minus that unfortunate first time when she’d most likely faked her orgasm. Since then everything had been good. More than. This would be too.
He inhaled deeply and headed down the hall to his room. On the threshold, he stopped and smiled.
Ang had curled up in the center of the bed, the covers huddled over her back and nearly covering her head. She must’ve just shut her eyes for a second and boom, out like a light. Either that or she’d decided to fake sleeping to get out of having anal sex with the uptight dude who wasn’t quite sure about taking control on every level yet.
Then she let out a soft snore and his smile widened. Guess she wasn’t faking.
He set the lube on the nightstand and sat down beside her on the bed to stroke her hair. Her lips curved, but she didn’t open her eyes. Another moment later, she was quietly snoring again. So cute.
Watching her sleep was addictive. He spent half an hour doing just that, then rose to make her breakfast.
Taking care of her felt too natural. Right. Just like everything else he was trying hard as hell not to get used to.
When he returned with a tray containing bacon, eggs, fresh grapefruit, wheat toast and orange juice, she was still sound asleep. He set the tray on the nightstand and eased in beside her before stroking her cheek. “Baby, there’s bacon.”
Nothing.
He rubbed his thumb over her lips. “Ang. Time to eat.”
Her lashes fluttered and she opened her eyes, stifling a yawn. “Morning already?” She blinked, her gaze narrowing on his as her cheeks pinkened. “Oh shit. I totally wigged on you.”
“Come again?”
“I fell asleep. Oh my God.” She sat up and shoved a hand through her hair. “We were going to have totally wild ass sex and I took a nap. Lame. God. I’m so sorry. This pregnancy is turning me into a grandma.”
He couldn’t help grinning. “Wild ass sex. Those are three words I never expected to hear in my lifetime in reference to me.”
“Why not? You’re such a wild man.” She leaned over and bit his thigh, soothing the sting with a wet kiss. “It’s fun corrupting you.”
“Oh, is it now?” He knotted a hand in her hair and drew her up on his lap, groaning as she settled over him. His dick had already decided to rise and shine. “Maybe I should work on corrupting you.”
She crossed her arms behind her head and stretched, thrusting her full breasts near his face. “Go ahead, stud.”
He seized one of her rosy nipples, pinching lightly. “I have the strangest urge to buy you nipple adornments whenever I’m confronted with these.”
She laughed, low and smoky. “Why, Mr. Vance, as if you’d even know where to buy that kind of jewelry.”
“Oh, I have my ways.”
“Mmm. I don’t doubt it.” She wiggled on his lap, sliding sinuously up and down. He wasn’t inside her, but she definitely made him wish he was. “While you’re at it, feel free to pick up a pair of bedazzled handcuffs. I left mine at Brandy’s, and I think she permanently borrowed them.”
Sterling pressed his mouth to the top of her breast and laughed, utterly enchanted by her. “How did I not know you were like this before?”
She grinned. “You never spent much time at Shooters.”
“That’s better than what I thought you’d say. I figured you’d mention something about hanging out with a younger crowd. Feeling like an old predatory pervert isn’t one of my kinks.”
“Age is a number. Besides, in this scenario I think it’s obvious who the predator is.” She tugged on his hair and dragged his face up to hers. “You’re sweet. So sweet.” She swallowed, her voice dropping. “I’m not.”
“Says who?”
“Oh, I don’t know. My ex doesn’t think I am.” She traced the compass tattoo on his chest. Even that light, airy touch had his breath coming short. “He thinks I’m delusional even spending time with you.”
Something dark and slippery twisted through his stomach. “Delusional how?”
“You’re way above my pay grade. In his eyes, I’m good for a bang, but—”
“Do you think that’s what we’ve been doing? Banging?” When she didn’t respond, he blew out a breath and tipped back his head. “I’ve never banged anyone in my life. If I was going to start, it wouldn’t be with you. Your father is important to me. You’re important to me.” Your baby is important to me.
But he didn’t add that. Because her child wasn’t his, and he needed to be careful not to overstep. Or scare her away.
“I know.” She swallowed audibly. “But sex changes things.”
“You’re right.” He lowered his head and met her gaze. “I’ve never been more intoxicated by who you are than I am now. I can’t imagine you not being in my life anymore. Nor do I want to.”
Her lips trembled, her hips going still. Then, when he began to think she’d never speak again, she whispered, “I have my due date sonogram today.”
He frowned. “That sonogram is supposed to be done between weeks ten and—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. My doctor read me the riot act already. This is later than he would’ve preferred. If I didn’t have such crazy periods, I wouldn’t even need one to pin down the date.”
“That’s not the only reason to have an early ultrasound. It helps to detect abnormalities, or if there are two fetuses—”
“Hush your mouth. Do not even say those words.”
He grinned. “They say two are actually easier to deal with once you get past the toddler stage. Built-in playmate and all.”
“Dear God.” She shuddered. “One’s plenty right now, thanks.”
“Still, you should’ve had the ultrasound earlier.”
“Duly noted, Doctor Dolittle. Better late than never, right? No one ever said I was going to be June Cleaver with my kid. But I’m trying.” She started to climb off his lap.
“Ang, wait.” He locked his hands on her shoulders, and her limbs loosened as the tension left her body. Somewhere down deep, she was more submissive than she realized. “Why did you tell me?”
She shrugged and glanced at the nightstand. Her eyes lit. “That bacon smells really good. You didn’t have to go to all the trouble to cook.”
“Angelina.”
She sucked in a breath. “I’m not good at this stuff.”
“And I am?”
That made her smile. “Your ex must think you’re good at plenty if she’s still all over you.”
Liar, liar, ass on fire. He cleared his throat. “There’s n
o accounting for personal taste.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. I can totally see why she wants to get back on your rollercoaster.”
He shouldn’t grin. “Really?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m not sure it’s about speed or…ah, motion so much as maybe she’s lonely.” He shrugged. Perhaps it was still possible to do damage control on his lie. “I might’ve misinterpreted her interest. We used to be good friends.”
“You are a great friend. The very best.” Her own smile faded and she puffed out a breath. “So, um, would you come to my sonogram with me?”
Warmth bloomed inside him and crowded out every concern. “Yes. I would be honored to.”
“Are you sure? You must have work—”
“Whatever I have isn’t half as important as being with you.” He cupped her cheeks as color and heat flooded them. “Thank you for asking me.”
Shrugging, she looked away. “Well, it’s not like her father cares.”
“Ang,” he said softly.
“I know, I know. I’m nervous. What if she has two heads? What if they discover I’ve been forgetting to take all my prenatal vitamins and that I haven’t been getting enough sleep?” She shut her eyes. “I don’t want to let her down.”
“You won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know you.” That, more than anything, was why he could push the lie between them to the back burner. As a PI, he relied on his instincts. And his told him that Ang would never hurt him intentionally. He believed she had his best interests at heart, even if she twisted the knife a bit more every day she withheld the truth.
Perhaps the answer was to love it out of her. To offer her a caring environment where telling the truth was safer for her than building walls to keep him out.
“Do you?” Her voice trembled.
“Yes. As well as I know myself.” He reached for the glass of water he’d put on the tray for himself and pushed it gently into her hand. “Drink this.”
Her eyes flew open and she wrinkled her nose. “Water?”
“You’re supposed to be well hydrated before your sonogram. When you finish that one, I’ll go get you another.”
“I can’t decide if it’s creepy or sweet that you know more about pregnancy than I do.”
He reached for a piece of bacon and dangled it above her head. Her eyes wheeled and he laughed. “Let’s go with sweet.”
She leaned up and nipped the bacon out of his fingers, grazing his skin with her teeth. She chewed and swallowed before flashing him a grin. “Give me more of that bacon and I’ll call you anything you like.”
Chapter Ten
“Now look at the monitor. There’s your baby.” The nurse tapped the screen. “See the ears?”
Ang took a panicked breath and lifted her shoulders as she stared at the screen. “No. I can’t see them. It’s a blob. Are you sure those are ears?”
“Sure they are. Look right here. This is the front of the baby’s head—”
“It’s a blob.” She fumbled for Sterling’s hand on her shoulder. “Can you see anything, Sterling? What does it look like to you?”
“A blob.” He cleared his throat. “But a very attractive one.”
“I knew it. I’m not really pregnant. I just need to cut back on carbs.” Ang started to sit up, but Sterling’s hand tightened, holding her in place. The flutter of air from her movement made the cool gel on her stomach seem even colder.
“Easy, baby. Relax.” Sterling brushed a kiss over the top of her head. “Can you point everything out again? We’ll pay closer attention.”
Panic coiled tighter inside her, threatening to make her toss her cookies. “But there’s nothing there. It’s a sponge of…fat. All those Oreos I eat every night. I must’ve had a false positive test.” But seven of them? It could be possible. Sure.
“Ma’am, look here. This is the baby’s foot. See here?” More tapping on the monitor.
“No. I can’t see it. Why can’t I see it?”
“Oh, hey. I think I see the foot. Cute.” The awe in Sterling’s voice didn’t make her feel better. It made her sense of impending failure loom even larger.
“I’m a horrible mother who can’t see her own baby and no one even cares.”
Her whine made Sterling laugh. “We care. Relax and look again.”
She looked. “You really see a foot?”
“I really do. And a head and a little indentation for the eyes.” Sterling tapped the monitor in several places. “Let your eyes unfocus for a second and try again.”
Breathing deeply, she did as he asked. And she saw a freaking foot. And a head. And a little indentation for the eyes. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “It’s real. There’s really a baby in there.”
“Yes, there really is,” he said gruffly, bending down to brush his lips over her forehead. “You made a beautiful baby, Thumbelina.”
Like magic, the flood started in her eyes. “Oh God.”
“Do you two need a minute alone?” The nurse started backing away.
“No, we’re okay. Aren’t we okay?”
“We’re fine.” The reassurance in Sterling’s voice went miles to calming the nervous butterflies still whirling around in her belly. “It’s a big moment.”
The nurse smiled. “When parents see their baby for the first time, it always is.”
For a moment, silence reigned. Then everyone spoke at once.
“Oh, he’s not the father—”
“I’m not the—”
“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”
Then the silence returned.
Ang took a deep breath. Those couple of seconds where she’d been able to pretend that Sterling was her child’s father had been incredible. Reality always came too soon. “Everything’s fine.” She lifted her voice and started to reach for her belly. At the last instant, she diverted her hand to stroke her eyebrow ring. “Just perfect.”
“Okay, well, let me get you a printout of the baby’s first picture and we can get you on your way.”
“I get a picture?” Ang glanced at Sterling. “Did you know I got a picture?”
“Yes, darling. It’s standard.” He smiled at the nurse. “Could we get two? I’d like one too.”
The lump in Ang’s throat made it impossible to speak, so she listened while Sterling and the nurse chitchatted. After a quick discussion on time lines and the schedule for her upcoming appointments, they headed down the hall into the crowded waiting room.
She’d changed ob-gyns because she hadn’t been thrilled with her old one, and also to give herself some privacy. She’d chosen one on the outskirts of Long Island in the hopes of being more anonymous, but considering she’d already seen two distant acquaintances in the waiting room, she hadn’t picked wisely. That was part of the reason she walked faster than usual.
Only part. The small room she’d had the ultrasound in had felt claustrophobic, full of too many emotions she wasn’t ready to deal with. She’d cried enough already. And surely Sterling had better things to do than to hang around looking at the proof another guy had hit it and quit it.
Sterling caught her hand. “Hey, Speedy, where’s the fire?”
“I figured you had to get back to work.”
He pulled her to a stop and rubbed his hands up and down her bare arms. “That can wait. I’m actually thinking of blowing off the day.” He met her gaze. “What do you think?”
She wanted nothing more than to snuggle in bed with him and have that hot sex they’d teased each other about before sleeping the afternoon away in a blissful tangle of arms and legs. Then waking together to make an early dinner before she had to go to work at the parish center. She craved that normalcy more than she’d ever craved anything. Must be the baby was increasing her nesting instinct, because that wasn’t her. She wasn’t domestic. Wasn’t anyone’s little woman, especially his.
“Ang?”
She blinked the images behind her eyes away.
“I don’t want to take any more of your time than I have already. I’ve been nothing but a huge bother.”
“You’re not a bother. You couldn’t be.” He tipped up her face until his lips hovered over hers. “Guess I’m going to have to prove that to you, hmm?”
Backing away would be the smart thing. The logical one. She couldn’t risk her heart to him, not when so much of her was already on the line. She had a baby to think about now.
The baby he carried a picture of in his pocket.
She stepped closer and covered his hand on her jaw with her own. “Guess so. You got any ideas how you can accomplish that?”
“I may have one or two.” Lips curving, he lowered his head.
“Sterling? What are you doing here?”
Ang went still at the shrill feminine voice, but Sterling didn’t even seem to notice. He was much too occupied brushing his mouth over hers.
“Sterling,” Ang whispered. “We have an audience.”
“They’ll go away.”
“Sterling?”
Apparently not.
With a sigh, he moved back and slid his hand down to grip Ang’s as they faced the tall, impeccably dressed blond directly in front of them. If she’d gotten any closer, she could’ve joined in on their kiss. Jeez.
Sterling’s arm tensed. “Tricia. What are you doing here?”
Tricia. Sterling’s possibly sex-obsessed ex. Fabulous.
“I’m here with a friend.” Tricia frowned as her gaze drifted over Ang’s messy, dark hair with its fading streaks of blue chalk at the tips and her loose T-shirt and low-cut jeans. She stopped at Ang’s pink cowboy boots, then looked up again, her eyes widening as she stared at Ang’s midsection. “Angelina, isn’t it?”
“It is.” Her tone sounded a little snooty maybe, but she wasn’t giving an inch. Not when the dismissal in Tricia’s eyes hung in the air as heavily as her fancy perfume.
“Sterling and I had dinner with your parents a few times. They have pictures of you all over their home. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Ang didn’t miss the emphasis she put on your parents. A nice dig about her age. The secondary shot about hearing a lot about Ang barely registered. She was used to not measuring up.
