“Not until you agree to have dinner with me.” He crossed the room and sat in the chair opposite her desk. No intention of leaving, obviously.
“That can’t happen. Please leave before someone sees you in here.” God, she’d have so much explaining to do if one of the partners saw him. And if Lyle did, he’d keep Ben there all afternoon, signing every Avalanche logoed item in his office. And she needed him gone—out of sight—immediately. In a pair of gray dress pants that hugged his thighs in droolworthy fashion and a light blue dress shirt—which was the exact color of his eyes—opened at the top to give her a glimpse of the muscular chest her hands had explored at his lake house, he was the hottest man she’d ever had to turn down.
Ignoring her, he picked up a magazine from her desk. “I’m not playing tonight, so I’ve got nowhere to be.”
Why was he making this so hard? He had women falling all over themselves just to be near him, and yet he wanted to have dinner with her? She’d be flattered if her own common sense wasn’t cautioning her to stand her ground. Ben saw her as a challenge. As soon as she gave in, he’d lose interest, and she’d be the one looking like an idiot.
Hearing the door buzzer, she checked the hallway quickly. “Stay right there while I let Madison back into the building.”
“Seriously not going anywhere,” he said, flipping the pages of the magazine.
Rushing out into the lobby, she went behind the desk and hit the outside intercom button. “Madison, come in,” she hissed.
“Sorry he…”
She released the button and ran back to the office, closing the door. “What do you think you’re doing? Flowers? Showing up? Even though your case is resolved, this is all such a huge conflict of interest. If the partners find out you’re here…” She fanned herself with a hand. The office suddenly felt too small with him in it, and had someone turned off the air-conditioning? Breathing became a challenge, and she unbuttoned the top button on her blouse.
His eyes left hers and fell to the opening she’d created in the fabric.
The desire in his expression was undeniable, and she felt a rush of heat flow to her cheeks. A memory of the same look right before he’d kissed her had her mouth going dry. When he stood and walked toward her, she willed herself to retreat away from him, but her feet were glued to the carpet.
“Yeah, and if they knew we kissed and spent time together…” He let out a low whistle and shook his head, stopping just inches from her. “We’d really be in trouble.” His eyes dropped once more to the opening in her blouse. “Is that pink lace?”
She quickly redid the button, her cheeks on fire. “You think this is a joke?” This was career-jeopardizing for her. Dating him so soon after dropping the case would raise eyebrows and could lead to an investigation into her conduct. “Ben, please leave,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared at anything other than him. If he didn’t go soon, she was afraid her resolve would weaken. Ben Westmore was a man who normally got what he wanted, and now she could understand why.
He touched her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Leave? Or leave you alone?”
Damn, those eyes! She could get lost in them if she allowed herself. Which she couldn’t. Wouldn’t. He had heartbreaker written on every bone in his body. “Both.”
“Wrong answer.”
She released a desperate-sounding sigh as she took a step back. “Look, I realize this might be fun for you. I’m sure you rarely get to experience the thrill of a chase, but I’m not interested.”
He laughed.
“Wow. You take arrogance to a whole new level.”
He moved toward her again, and one more step back took her to the office wall. Nowhere else to go. “It’s not arrogance. It’s the way you kissed me with as much passion and desperation as I kissed you that has me believing you may be just the tiniest bit interested.”
Understatement. And he knew it. And he knew she knew it. She released a deep breath. She couldn’t believe she was going to do this. “I’m having a baby.”
Target hit.
He blinked, looking genuinely confused. “You’re pregnant?” His eyes went to her stomach, and she wrapped her arms around her waist.
“Not yet.”
“Clarification needed.”
“I’m doing in vitro. Artificial insemination with a sperm donor.”
He looked dubious. “I’m not sure I believe you.”
“That’s why I was in Glenwood Falls that day you saw me outside of the market.”
“I like to refer to it as the day we kissed.”
“Please don’t, and shhhh…” The walls of her office were paper-thin. “I was at the Glenwood Falls Fertility Treatment Center to see Dr. Chelsey—a man who thinks you’re a freaking saint, by the way,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’d just gotten…inseminated.” Having this conversation with Ben was sucking the life out of her. No one else knew—except Madison—and Ben was the last person she’d ever expected to be telling. But surely now he’d back off.
Which was a good thing, so why was her chest hurting?
He studied her, taking several steps away from her.
Did he think pregnancy was contagious?
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.” Any second now, he would hightail it toward the door. Her gut twisted at the thought, and a deep disappointment she knew was stupid to feel overwhelmed her. It was for the best, but the idea of not seeing him again made a lump rise in her throat.
Crazy hormones.
Instead, he continued to stand there. He was silent for so long, she picked up a piece of paper, balled it, and tossed it at his forehead. “Wake up!”
He watched the paper land at his feet, then slowly picked it up, took aim, and tossed it expertly into the wastebasket near the door. “I don’t care,” he said with a shrug.
“What?”
“I still want a dinner date.”
Was the guy out of his mind? The temptation to give in was strong. “No.”
“Unless you’re married—which you’re not—or a lesbian—which again, you’re not—there’s no reason you can give me that I’ll accept. My case is settled and we are both free to do whatever we want. Whatever we want,” he repeated, his blue eyes blazing heat as they fell to her lips.
Oh God. “I could have you arrested for harassment,” she said, but the argument was weak. They both knew she wouldn’t. His persistence was starting to break her.
“Do it.” He folded his arms across his chest, the fabric of his collared shirt tight on his biceps the sleeves rolled up in an impossibly sexy casualness that had her mouth watering and palms sweating. Whatever they wanted.
She was screwed.
“Fine.” She must be out of her mind. Not a good idea. Definitely not a good idea. “One dinner, then you promise to leave me alone?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Ben!”
“Text me your address. I’ll pick you up at seven.” He headed toward the door.
“No!” There was no way she was telling him where she lived. “I’ll meet you somewhere.” Maybe.
He cocked one eyebrow. “You must want company this afternoon,” he said, moving back toward the chair he’d vacated.
He was dead serious about this date. Even though she’d just given him the best reason possible to walk away. He was killing her. “Fine, fine, fine! Just get out.” She could feel sweat beading on her spine.
He looked as cool and unfazed as always. Smiling, he headed toward the door. “Text me the address.”
She picked up the phone angrily and did. “Done.”
“Thank you. You won’t regret this decision.”
“I already am,” she muttered. “And fair warning—if your cell phone rings tonight with a call from Rebecca, Isabelle, or any other woman—date’s over.”
He grinned, and she immediately wished she could pull the jealous-sounding words back. “Phone on silent all evening, I promise.”
She no
ticed he couldn’t promise there wouldn’t be any calls.
“Oh, and I rescued the lilies before Madison could toss them. I’ll bring them to your place tonight,” he said with a wink.
Chapter 16
It was too early to test. Implantation was only three weeks ago. Technically, she hadn’t even missed a period yet. But she felt…different. Pregnant women had a sense about this, didn’t they? Maybe not the ones on that show where the participants didn’t know they were pregnant, but most women. She applied a pale pink gloss to her lips, her gaze locked on the home pregnancy test box sitting on the sink. She’d surrounded herself with positive images to help the positive thinking…yet having this out in plain view with Ben on his way to pick her up—probably not the best idea.
Oh, sure—because that was the bad idea. Once again, her chest tightened at the thought of what she’d agreed to do. A date? With a man who most certainly, without a doubt, she’d never see again after this dinner? After she was no longer a challenge? Every ounce of her common sense screamed the reasons why she was crazy to be doing this, but her stomach fluttered at the thought of him, and common sense took a flying leap.
She bit her lip and leaned against the sink in her bra and underwear, staring at the test box. What if she wasn’t pregnant? What if one more reason not to be with Ben was removed from the equation?
But then she wouldn’t be pregnant. The in vitro would have failed. And she’d be devastated.
Screw it. She had enough tests to test every week for six months. She reached for the box, tore it open, and removed the stick. She didn’t need to read to instructions—she had a masters’ degree in law. Just pee and wait. How hard could it be?
Of course she didn’t have to pee, so she had to mentally will a few drops out of her bladder. Then replacing the cap, she sat clutching it and waited. One pink line appeared immediately, but the box said that would happen to let her know the test was working. It said the other pink line—should it come—could take…
Oh my God! There it was. Faint. But there. Definitely there. She squinted and blinked. Still there. She waited for it to darken, but it never did.
But it was there. She was pregnant?
Thankfully her past self knew her future self pretty darn well. She reached for another box from the drawer—the yes/no kind. She couldn’t leave the biggest moment of her life up to a faint, barely there pink line.
And of course, she still didn’t have to pee.
Sheer will and determination produced just enough, and she waited again.
This one took longer, and as she sat with the two pink lines in one hand and the taunting I’m-going-to-take-my-designated-three-minutes test in the other hand, her heart raced.
She’d been nervous about her date with Ben. Now that anxiety paled in comparison. If she was pregnant, how was she supposed to go through with this date?
This wasn’t exactly the way most women celebrated this news. No, most women trying to get pregnant had a loving, supporting partner to share the anxiety, the waiting, the squinting at two indefinite pink lines. She swallowed hard. It was her decision to do it this way.
Finally, the display lit up and the word yes on the screen left no more room for doubt. She was pregnant. The treatment had worked. Tears threatened to destroy her freshly applied mascara, and she took several deep breaths as she stood and tossed the sticks into the trash can—she wasn’t that sentimental to keep sticks she’d peed on.
Was she?
She retrieved them and tucked them into the bathroom drawer.
She smiled as she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She was pregnant. In thirty-seven weeks she would have a baby, the family she wanted. Emotions spiraled through her as her doorbell buzzer rang.
And in thirty-seven seconds, her date would be on his way to her apartment.
* * *
Being unable to read Olivia’s expression wasn’t new. The woman had mastered confusing, noncommittal looks. When she opened the door that evening, Ben studied her, dissecting the layers, as though evaluating a fine wine. Apprehension was definitely there—understandably so. But also an excitement…with a tinge of pre-date regret?
I’m getting better at this. He smiled, his confidence choosing to cling to the excitement part, as he handed her the lilies as promised. “You ready to go?” She looked ready and more beautiful than his imagination had done justice. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders in light waves, and the black v-neck cashmere sweater she wore looked soft and warm.
The strength of the desire to take her into his arms surprised him. He resisted. Barely. He wanted this date, he’d worked harder to get it than any other in his life, and he knew she’d never go through with it if he pushed too far, too fast.
“Just about…Come in for a sec,” she said, moving aside to let him in.
He stepped over the threshold into her apartment and nodded appreciatively. “Great place.” The dark hardwood flooring contrasting with the cream-colored furniture gave the space a modern classic look. The matching mocha-colored marble countertops and backsplash in the open-concept kitchen and dining room were similar to the color scheme in his home. In fact, their choice in décor was even similar; they both preferred basic, uncluttered, expensive pieces placed strategically for design and comfort.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll go put these away,” she said, but instead of going into her kitchen, she disappeared down a short hallway and into a bedroom.
He ignored the temptation to follow and rearrange the proper order of the typical date. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in eventually seeing her naked, but he was looking forward to taking her out, showing her there was more to him than what the tabloids proclaimed. He was interested in getting to know her.
It was a foreign concept to him. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. A red flag that should be sending him packing. Instead, he studied the pictures in a decorative dressing screen dividing the space. The first set of collage photos were obviously her as a little girl with her parents. He leaned closer to look. She was a cute kid—dark, uncontrollable ringlets and chubby cheeks. The woman she was now looked a lot like her mother, but she obviously got her coloring from her father.
In the next set she was older and the other woman in the picture wasn’t her mother. A grandmother, perhaps? Though she didn’t look much older than Olivia’s parents. But whoever she was, she remained the constant in the pics as he continued through Olivia’s timeline up to her high school graduation.
Had she lost her parents at a young age?
“That’s my aunt Helen,” she said, reappearing behind him.
“She raised you?” he asked, turning to face her.
She nodded. “My parents were in an accident…a drunk driver.”
Her tone was tight. Obviously time hadn’t made it easier to talk about. A loss so young was heartbreaking. “I’m sorry. And no brothers or sisters?” As much as they drove each other crazy growing up, Ben couldn’t imagine not having his siblings.
“Nope, just me.” Once again, her expression was unreadable, but one thing was clear: she didn’t want to talk about it. “Ready?” she asked.
“Yes.” She could change her mind at any minute, and he knew he had to seize the moment. He’d made dinner reservations at the best seafood restaurant downtown, and he had a public art walking tour planned for them in Denver’s Golden Triangle cultural district. “Do you have a jacket?”
She reached for a light denim jacket from the hook near the door. He took it and held it open while she slid her arms in. He lifted her hair gently over the fabric and allowed the smell of jasmine-scented shampoo to fill his senses as he rested his hands on her shoulders almost too long to be safe.
He’d missed that smell.
Luckily, she stepped away and opened the door; otherwise, he would have probably stood there, touching her, for who knew how long. He followed her outside and waited as she locked up, then he led the way to his Hummer.
/> “That’s right I forgot—you drive a tank,” she said.
He opened the passenger side door for her. “But, you’ll notice, I only took up one parking space this time.”
“How thoughtful,” she said, accepting his help into the tall vehicle.
Her soft hand in his sent an electric current through his arm. If a simple touch had that affect, he wondered what kind of damage she might inflict on his emotions if she were to touch him everywhere. Releasing her hand, he closed the door and got in behind the wheel a second later. “What kind of music do you like?” he asked, starting the car and immediately reaching for the radio dial to switch channels. He listened to old-school classic rock, and more than one date had wrinkled her nose at his taste.
“This is good,” she said as an old Bruce Springsteen song played.
“Really? Classic rock?” He nodded his appreciation, turning it up a little louder as he backed out of the space.
She laughed. “I’m probably the first woman you’ve had in here who’s old enough to recognize these songs, right?”
Damn. Come to think of it, she was probably right. She was far from old, but being in her thirties put her about ten years older than most of the girls he went out with. Young girls weren’t looking for commitment—they were out to have fun, which suited him and his own intentions—but explaining that would no doubt make him sound worse, not better, so he just grinned and shrugged. “My mom can sing along.”
She punched his arm and he grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips. He turned the palm up and kissed it gently before letting it go, aware of her surprised stare.
He cleared his throat. “So I thought we’d have dinner at Kleine’s—I hope you like seafood.”
“Ben, I’m pregnant,” she said, the words coming out in a rush.
He’d always been terrified of hearing a woman say that, but in this case, he couldn’t possibly be at fault. Still, his stomach knotted as he glanced at her. Hadn’t it just been three weeks since she’d done the egg thing? She’d said it was the day she’d been in Glenwood Falls…The day they’d kissed. And she was pregnant already? Wow. Had he known, would that have stopped him from kissing her? Probably not, seeing as how it hadn’t stopped him from wanting this date. “When did you find out?” Earlier in her office, she’d been unsure.
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