“Are you just saying that?”
The uncertainty in her voice added to her charm. They were already in so much trouble, Carter almost felt still being attracted to her couldn’t make things worse. Except he knew it could. A relationship would only complicate the situation. Better to keep his head and think clearly. If only she didn’t smell so good.
“I don’t do lines,” he told her. “You’re beautiful and sexy and funny. You dress like a nun and you have a body made for…ah, making love,” he said, self-editing to something less graphic. “What’s not to like?”
“Wow. When you say it like that, you were lucky to have me.”
He smiled. “Yes, I was. Only now there are consequences for us to deal with.”
“The baby.”
“Right. Rachel, I’m not giving up my daughter.”
“You don’t actually know the baby is a girl.”
“Yes, I do, but that doesn’t matter. We’re going to have to work something out, because I won’t sign those papers.”
He’d understood why she’d thought he might. Many guys would jump at the chance to walk away from this kind of responsibility, but he couldn’t. He’d been raised to believe family mattered more than anything.
She leaned forward and fingered the thick envelope. “I know. I mean I didn’t know before, but I do now.” She straightened and touched her stomach. “So what do we do? No offense, but I’m not going to accept your mother’s suggestion.”
“You don’t want to marry me?” he asked, his voice teasing.
“I don’t know you.”
“I’m a great catch.”
“You certainly don’t seem to have an ego problem.”
He grinned. “I have references.”
“Apparently in the hundreds.”
“Not that many.” He stood and moved to the sofa, where he angled toward her. “How about this. We have what, eight months until the baby is born?”
“Just about.”
“Okay, let’s take that time and figure out what we want to do. Not what my mother says is best. We’ll talk about the situation and come up with a plan.” He hesitated. “You’re going to keep the baby, aren’t you?”
She stiffened. “Of course. I want this child.”
“Me, too. So what do you say? We’ll take our time and consider our options. You live in the area, I live in the area, we could easily share custody. Or figure out something else that works. Let’s get to know each other and find out what works best for us.”
She bit her lower lip, which made him think about doing that for her, which made him think about other things. They were alone in the house.
Only that wasn’t a very good idea right now.
“You’re right,” she said, obviously oblivious to the temptation she represented. “We have time. We should use it.”
“Great.” He grabbed a pen and paper from the end table and wrote down his home and cell number. Then he held the sheet out to her. “You’re not going to throw it out again, are you?”
“No, I promise I won’t.”
She reached for the paper, but he held it out of reach. “Why didn’t you call me?”
She sighed. “Are you ever going to let that go?”
“Probably not until you answer the question.”
She sank back against the sofa. “I couldn’t call you, Carter. I honestly didn’t know what to say. I’d never done anything like that in my life. I was afraid of what you’d think of me. And I was afraid of what I’d think of myself.”
He dropped the paper in her lap and gave an exaggerated sigh. “I knew it. You were just using me for sex.”
She groaned. “You’re impossible.”
“Sometimes I’m even better than that.”
“Give me those.”
She reached across the sofa and grabbed the pen and paper from him. Suddenly they were very close, with her breasts pressing against his arm and one of her hands lightly touching his stomach.
His reaction was instant and predictable. Blood rushed south, and his brain went blank, except for the burning need to pull her into his arms.
Her gaze locked with his and he was gratified to see an answering fire there. Unfortunately, she had more self-control.
“I’ll, ah, give you my number,” she murmured as she drew back and quickly wrote down the information. “We should plan to get together and talk some more.”
“How about Saturday?” he asked.
She handed him back the pad. “Okay. Do you want to go out or…” She shook her head. “No matter what I say, it’s going to sound like a date.”
“It’s not a date,” he told her, suddenly wishing it was. “Let’s go casual. I’ll bring dinner to your place. That way we won’t be interrupted.”
She blinked several times.
“While we talk,” he added, emphasizing the last word. “Just talk.”
“Okay. That’s fine. We’ll talk.”
Carter went out back and whistled for Goldie. The golden Lab, named by one of his nieces, strolled out of her plush doghouse, stretched and ambled toward him. She gave him a quick lick on the hand by way of greeting, then bumped her head against his thigh so he would rub her ears.
“Have you noticed everything in this relationship is about you?” he asked conversationally as he obliged her for a couple of minutes. “Come on. We’re going to see Mama.”
The magic name perked up Goldie and she trotted eagerly to the side gate. Carter let her out, then followed her down the street. Goldie paused at the curb until he’d checked for traffic, then dashed across to a tidy front yard. She sniffed the big tree in front, raced up the two steps, rose on her back legs and pressed her paw against the bell.
The front door opened and his mother appeared.
“Goldie. Such a pretty dog. Come in, come in. I have some nice pot roast from last night. I saved you some.” His mother held open the screen door for the dog, then glanced at him. “If you’re going to tell me to mind my own business, you can go home now.”
“That’s exactly what I’m going to tell you and you know you’d never send me away without feeding me first.”
“You think you know everything,” his mother grumbled, but held the screen door open for him, too, then shooed him into the kitchen.
Carter had grown up in this house. He’d painted walls, laid tile and, when he was nine, broken the front window with a high fly ball hit from Billy Hinton’s front yard. There were a lot of memories under this roof. Mostly good ones.
The kitchen was large and open, with painted cabinets and a six-burner stove that was always in use. Right now marinara sauce bubbled away.
He glanced around at the table. “Where are the girls?” He’d expected an inquisition.
“I sent them home. I wanted to talk to you alone.”
That was never good news, he thought glumly as he pulled up a stool at the island and took a cookie from the ever-present plate of them. Neither the alone part nor her confidence that he would stop by.
“I appreciate your interest,” he told his mother. “I love you, but stay out of this. Rachel and I have to figure out what to do ourselves.”
“What to do?”
His mother might be short, but she was formidable when she got her back up. Right now, with him on the stool, they were perilously close to eye level. She glared at him.
“What to do?” she repeated, sounding both outraged and furious. “If you get a girl pregnant, Carter, you marry her. I raised you to know that.”
There was something mythic about his mother. Carter had never figured out the source of her power, but he respected it. With the right look and tone of voice, she could make him feel as if he were ten years old again.
“Things have changed,” he said. “Lots of women have babies on their own. That’s what Rachel wants to do.” The woman had tried to get him to sign away his own child. Nothing about those actions indicated a burning desire to marry him.
“Did you propose? Did you of
fer to take responsibility?”
“I said I wanted to be a part of my child’s life. I want to share custody with her.”
His mother walked to the sink, where she began rinsing pots. “Share custody. What does that mean? Half a life with a child? You’re having a baby, Carter. This isn’t a game. You have to marry this girl.”
“She doesn’t want to marry me.”
“How do you know? Have you asked?”
He didn’t mention the legal paperwork. She wouldn’t understand a woman expecting a man to walk away from a child and it might make her dislike Rachel. Nina Brockett was a wonderful woman, but she could hold a grudge for decades. Better to take the fall himself. After all, Rachel was going to be his baby’s mother, so there would be plenty of contact between Rachel and his mother.
“I already know the answer,” he said.
“You think you do, but you could be wrong. Stranger things have happened.”
“Mama, give it a rest.”
She flung down a dishcloth and spun to face him. “I won’t give it a rest. You’re my son. We’re talking about your firstborn child. You have to be a father to that baby.”
He put down the cookie. “I’m going to be,” he said quietly. “I’ll be there.”
Her expression softened. “I know, Carter. I’m sorry. You know more than anyone what it’s like to grow up without a father.”
“Then trust me to do the right thing,” he said.
“I can’t even trust you to wear a condom.”
Every now and then she surprised the hell out of him. Desperate to escape he looked around for Goldie, who was nosing the now licked-clean dish on the floor by the pantry.
“I gotta go,” he said as he stood, then whistled for his dog.
“Marry the girl.”
“I love you, Mama.”
“I love you, too. I’d love you more if you’d marry Rachel.”
“Good to know.”
He let himself out and made his way back to his house, knowing he could run but he couldn’t hide. Once his mother had something lodged in her brain, she never let it go. She would be all over him until he and Rachel had tied the knot.
The thing was he didn’t object to marriage in theory…for other people. But honestly, he didn’t see the point. Why be with one person forever?
His sisters kept telling him he didn’t understand because he’d never been in love. That one day he would fall and fall hard, and they all couldn’t wait to be there.
He told them hell would freeze over first, but he hadn’t meant it. He wouldn’t mind falling in love. He wanted to feel that he couldn’t live without the one person who made him want to get up every morning. Only he’d never found anyone who came close to that. Eventually he’d decided that romantic love was a myth—a product of greeting card advertisers.
If Rachel had wanted to get married to give the baby his name, he probably would have said yes, as long as she understood he wasn’t about to fall in love with her. But from what he’d seen, that was the last thing on her mind. So they would work something out—a sensible plan that took care of all their needs and the baby’s as well. Because he knew one thing for sure—he might not believe in romantic love, but he knew about a parent’s love for a child and no one was going to keep him from that.
“I’m having wine,” Crissy said as they took their seats in the restaurant after knitting class. “I need it. I swear, I have an anti-knitting gene. If it wasn’t that I wanted to hang out with you two so much, I would have given up that first week.”
“You’re not that bad,” Noelle said kindly.
“Jan flinched when I showed her what I’d done. Did you see that?” Crissy asked, then shook her head. “I know you’re going to want to take the advanced class and she’s never going to let me. She’ll probably hire a security guard just to keep me out.”
Rachel laughed. “I don’t think she cares that much. You’re doing fine.”
Crissy picked up her menu. “You mean you’re able to rework what I’ve messed up and it looks okay.” She shook her head. “I need to let it go. I’m a good person with a successful career.”
“And a really nice car,” Noelle added.
“Very upscale,” Rachel said, remembering the too-cute coupe her friend had leased that week.
“I have good friends,” Crissy said. “That should be enough, right? I don’t date, but that’s by choice. Another first date is the last thing I need. So I’m good. I can let the knitting thing go.”
“Let it fly free,” Rachel told her. “The yarn will thank you.”
Noelle chuckled. Crissy rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault,” she muttered as she opened her menu. “I hate the yarn.”
“It knows,” Rachel said, hiding her smile. “It knows and it flinches when it sees you coming.”
Crissy set down her menu and leaned across the table. “It’s not fair. I have absolutely no crafty or homemaking type talents.”
Rachel thought of her friend’s minichain of women-only gyms. She’d opened her fourth the previous year and was looking at locations for a fifth.
“Want to trade paychecks?” Rachel asked brightly.
Crissy grinned. “Thanks, but no. You do a good thing, teaching those little kids, and you’ll get your reward in heaven. Mine is more immediate.”
“That’s okay,” Rachel assured her. “I’ve always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher.” She’d planned to dance for ten or fifteen years, then go teach. As it was, the teaching had started a little early.
Crissy picked up her menu. “What are we all having? Rachel, have some wine, please. I hate to drink alone and Noelle is obviously out of the running on that.”
Rachel opened her mouth, then closed it. She wasn’t sure what to say, or how. Of course she’d planned on telling her friends about the baby, but now? Like this?
Noelle glanced at her. “Are you all right? You’ve been a little quiet all evening.”
“I’m good,” Rachel said.
Crissy smiled. “So what’s going on? It had to be something, because I know you’re not pregnant like this one here.”
Rachel drew in a breath. “Actually, I am.”
Noelle’s eyes widened. “Rachel, are you serious? Really? That’s so great.”
Crissy blinked twice, then raised her arm. “Waiter, I need a margarita here. Right away.” She lowered her arm. “Pregnant? As in ‘with child’? Are you sure?”
Rachel nodded. “I peed on seven sticks. It was quite the event.”
“So there’s a guy,” Crissy said. “There has to be a guy. But I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.” She looked at Noelle. “Did you know?”
“No.” Noelle glanced between them. “She’s right. There’s a guy. So who is he?”
“A complicated question,” Rachel admitted.
The waiter appeared with Crissy’s drink. They placed their food order and when he was gone, Noelle leaned forward and rested her forearms on the table.
“Spill,” she said.
Rachel sipped her water. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but please don’t judge me. I never do this sort of thing. I don’t date much and I never ever sleep with a guy right away.”
Crissy picked up her drink. “You slept with a guy on the first date? Wow—my respect was linked to your ability to knit and hang out with little kids, but this is even better. Tell everything. Start at the beginning and talk slowly.”
Rachel explained about going to the bar with Diane and how Carter bought her a drink and that they got to talking. She detailed Diane driving off without her and that Carter had offered her a lift.
“It was supposed to just be a good-night kiss,” Rachel admitted. “I never expected to lose control like that.”
“It must have been some kiss,” Crissy said.
Rachel willed herself not to blush. “We, ah, got swept away. Like in the movies. He left the next morning for an early meeting. He wrote me a note and gave me his phone number.”
Noel
le folded her arms over her chest. “You’ve been going out all this time and never told us?”
“We haven’t been dating,” Rachel said.
Crissy sipped her drink. “You met a guy who kisses so great you were compelled to have sex with him and you’re not dating?”
“I didn’t call him.”
“Why not?” Noelle and Crissy asked together.
Rachel moved her fork around on her napkin. “I don’t know. I didn’t know what to say. I mean, what would he think of me after that night we’d spent together? I’m not really that kind of person.”
Crissy rolled her eyes. “You didn’t call him because you thought he’d think you were slutty.” She paused. “Do we still say ‘slutty’? Am I dating myself?”
“You’re doing fine,” Noelle told her, then turned to Rachel. “I know you’d feel awkward, but why wouldn’t you want to see him again?”
Rachel honestly didn’t have an answer. Now that she’d talked to Carter again, even under really difficult circumstances, she’d seen that she liked him, even without the sex thing.
“It’s complicated,” she said. “I thought avoiding him was for the best.”
“But then you turned up pregnant,” Crissy said. “That had to have been an interesting conversation. Or have you told him yet.”
“I told him,” she said. “Actually, first I went to a lawyer.”
She explained about the paperwork she’d had drawn up.
Noelle gasped. “Did he sign it? Did he really sign away his baby?”
“No,” Rachel admitted. “He refused. I think he was kind of insulted I’d even asked. Then his mother and two of his sisters walked in and they know I’m pregnant.”
Crissy and Noelle exchanged a confused look. “Where did his mother come from?” Crissy asked.
Rachel explained about meeting at the bar and Jenny and then following Carter home.
“His mother thinks we should get married.”
“She’s right,” Noelle said primly. “You’re having a baby together. It’s the right thing to do.”
“It’s a new century,” Crissy said. “No one has to get married anymore. At least not here. Rachel, honey, you do whatever you want. If that means being a single mom, then yay you.”
The Ladies' Man Page 5
