A Tricky Proposition

by Cat Schield

  Had she said that, or had he? The events of the night were blurry. In fact, the only thing she remembered with crystal clarity was the feel of his lips on hers. The way her head spun as he plunged his tongue into her mouth and set her afire.

  “It was a mistake because we were best friends and hooking up would have messed up our relationship.”

  “But we’re not hormone-driven teenagers anymore,” he reminded her. “We can approach the sex as a naked hug between friends.”

  “A naked hug?” She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or hit him.

  What he wanted from her threatened to turn her emotions into a Gordian knot, and yet she found herself wondering if she could do as he asked. If she went into it without expectations, maybe it was possible for her to enjoy a few glorious nights in Jason’s bed and get away with her head clear and her heart unharmed.

  “Having…” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Making…” Her throat closed up. Completing the sentence made the prospect so much more real. She wasn’t ready to go there yet.

  Jason took pity on her inability to finish her thought. “Love?”

  “It’s intimate and…” Her skin tingled at the thought of just how intimate.

  “You don’t think I know that?”

  Jason’s velvet voice slid against her senses. Her entire body flushed as desire pulsed hot and insistent. How many times since her engagement ended had she awakened from a salacious dream about him, feeling like this? Heavy with need and too frustrated to go back to sleep? Too many nights to count.

  “Let me finish,” she said. “We know each other too well. We’re too comfortable. There’s no romance between us. It would be like brushing each other’s teeth.”

  “Brushing each other’s teeth?” he echoed, laughter dancing in his voice. “You underestimate my powers of seduction.”

  The wicked light in his eye promised that he was not going to be deterred from his request. A tremor threatened to upend the small amount of her confidence still standing.

  “You overestimate my ability to take you seriously.”

  All at once he stopped trying to push her buttons and his humor faded. “If you are going to become a mother, you don’t want that to happen in the sterile environment of a doctor’s office. Your conception should be memorable.”

  She wasn’t looking for memorable. Memorable lasted. It clogged up her emotions and made her long for impossible things. She wanted clinical. Practical. Uncomplicated.

  Which is why her decision to ask him to be her child’s father made so little sense. What if her son or daughter inherited his habit of mixing his food together on the plate before eating because he liked the way it all tasted together? That drove her crazy. She hated it when the different types of food touched each other.

  Would her baby be cursed by his carefree nature and impulsiveness? His love of danger and enthusiasm for risk taking?

  Or blessed with his flirtatious grin, overpowering charisma, leadership skills and athletic ability.

  For someone who thought everything through, it now occurred to her that she’d settled too fast on Jason for her baby’s father. As much as she’d insisted that he wouldn’t be tied either legally or financially to the child, she hadn’t considered how her child would be part of him.

  “I would prefer my conception to be fast and efficient,” she countered.

  “Why not start off slow and explore where it takes us?”

  Slow?

  Explore?

  Ming’s tongue went numb. Her emotions simmered in a pot of anticipation and anxiety.

  “I’m going to need to think about it.”

  “Take your time.” If he was disappointed by her indecisiveness, he gave no indication. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  *

  Three days passed without any contact from Ming. Was she considering his proposal or had she rejected the idea and was too angry at his presumption to speak to him? He shouldn’t care what she chose. Either she said yes and he could have the opportunity to satisfy his craving for her, or she would refuse and he’d get over the fantasy of her moaning beneath him.

  “Jason? Jason?” Max’s shoulder punch brought Jason back to the racetrack. “Geez, man, where the hell’s your head today?”

  Cars streaked by, their powerful engines drowning out his unsettling thoughts. It was Saturday afternoon. He and Max were due to race in an hour. Driving distracted at over a hundred miles an hour was a recipe for trouble.

  “Got something I didn’t resolve this week.”

  “It’s not like you to worry about work with the smell of gasoline and hot rubber on the wind.”

  Max’s good-natured ribbing annoyed Jason as much as his slow time in the qualifying round. Or maybe more so because it wasn’t work that preoccupied Jason, but a woman.

  “Yeah, well, it’s a pretty big something.”

  Never in his life had he let a female take his mind off the business at hand. Especially when he was so determined to win this year’s overall points trophy and show Max what he was missing by falling in love and getting engaged.

  “Let me guess, you think someone’s embezzling from Sterling Bridge.”

  “Hardly.” As CFO of the company his grandfather began in the mid-fifties, Jason had an eagle eye for any discrepancies in the financials. “Let’s just say I’ve put in an offer and I’m waiting to hear if it’s been accepted.”

  “Let me guess, that ’68 Shelby you were lusting after last month?”

  “I’m not talking about it,” Jason retorted. Let Max think he was preoccupied with a car. He’d promised Ming that he’d keep quiet about fathering her child. Granted, she hadn’t agreed to let him father the child the way he wanted to, but he sensed she’d come around. It was only a matter of when.

  “If it’s the Shelby then it’s already too late. I bought it two days ago.” Max grinned at Jason’s disgruntled frown. “I had a space in my garage that needed to be filled.”

  “And whose fault is that?” Jason spoke with more hostility than he meant to.

  A couple of months ago Jason had shared with Max his theory that the Lansing Employment Agency was not in the business of placing personal assistants with executives, but in matchmaking. Max thought that was crazy. So he wagered his rare ’69 ’Cuda that he wouldn’t marry the temporary assistant the employment agency sent him. But when the owner of the placement company turned out to be the long-lost love of Max’s life, Jason gained a car but lost his best buddy.

  “Why are you still so angry about winning the bet?” Despite his complaint, Max wore a good-natured grin. Everything about Max was good-natured these days. “You got the car I spent five years convincing a guy to sell me. I love that car.”

  He loved his beautiful fiancée more.

  “I’m not angry,” Jason grumbled. He missed his cynical-about-love friend. The guy who understood and agreed that love and marriage were to be avoided because falling head over heels for a woman was dangerous and risky.

  “Rachel thinks you feel abandoned. Like because she and I are together, you’ve lost your best friend.”

  Jason shot Max a skeptical look. “Ming’s my best friend. You’re just some guy I used to hang out with before you got all stupid about a girl.”

  Max acted as if he hadn’t heard Jason’s dig. “I think she’s right.”

  “Of course you do,” Jason grumbled, pulling his ball cap off and swiping at the sweat on his forehead. “You’ve become one of those guys who keeps his woman happy by agreeing with everything she says.”

  Max smirked. “That’s not how I keep Rachel happy.”

  For a second Jason felt a stab of envy so acute he almost winced. Silent curses filled his head as he shoved the sensation away. He had no reason to resent his friend’s happiness. Max was going to spend the rest of his life devoted to a woman who might someday leave him and take his happiness with her.

  “What happened to you?”

  Max looked surprised by the question.
“I fell in love.”

  “I know that.” But how had he let that happen? They’d both sworn they were never going to let any woman in. After the way Max’s dad cheated on his wife, Max swore he’d never trust anyone enough to fall in love. “I don’t get why.”

  “I’d rather be with Rachel than without her.”

  How similar was that to what had gone through his father’s mind after he’d lost his wife? His parents were best friends. Soul mates. Every cliché in the book. She was everything to him. Jason paused for breath. It had almost killed his dad to lose her.

  “What if she leaves you?”

  “She won’t.”

  “What if something bad happens to her?”

  “This is about what happened to your mom, isn’t it?” Max gave his friend a sympathetic smile. “Being in love doesn’t guarantee you’ll get hurt.”

  “Maybe not.” Jason found no glimmers of light in the shadows around his heart. “But staying single guarantees that I won’t.”

  *

  A week went by before Ming responded to Jason’s offer to get her pregnant. She’d spent the seven days wondering what had prompted him to suggest they have sex—she just couldn’t think of it as making love—and analyzing her emotional response.

  Jason wasn’t interested in complicating their friendship with romance any more than she was. He was the one person in her life who never expected anything from her, and she returned the favor. And yet, they were always there to help and support each other. Why risk that on the chance that the chemistry between them was out-of-this-world explosive?

  Of course, it had dawned on her a couple of days ago that he’d probably decided helping her get pregnant offered him a free pass. He could get her into bed no strings attached. No worries that expectations about where things might go in the future would churn up emotions.

  It would be an interlude. A couple of passionate encounters that would satisfy both their curiosities. In the end, she would be pregnant. He would go off in search of new hearts to break, and their friendship would continue on as always.

  The absolute simplicity of the plan warned Ming that she was missing something.

  Jason was in his garage when Ming parked her car in his driveway and killed the engine. She hadn’t completely decided to accept his terms, but she was leaning that way. It made her more sensitive to how attractive Jason looked in faded jeans and a snug black T-shirt with a Ford Mustang logo. Wholly masculine, supremely confident. Her stomach flipped in full-out feminine appreciation as he came to meet her.

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  Light-headed from the impact of his sexy grin, she indicated the beer in his hand. “Got one of those for me?”

  “Sure.”

  He headed for the small, well-stocked fridge at the back of the garage, and she followed. When he bent down to pull out a bottle, her gaze locked on his perfect butt. Hammered by the urge to slide her hands over those taut curves, she knew she was going to do this. Correction. She wanted to do this.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, applying the cold bottle to one overheated cheek.

  Jason watched her through narrowed eyes. “I thought you didn’t drink beer anymore.”

  “Do you have any wine?” she countered, sipping the beer and trying not to grimace.

  “No.”

  “Then I’m drinking beer.” She prowled past racing trophies and photos of Jason and Max in one-piece driving suits. “How’d your weekend go?”

  “Come upstairs and see.”

  Jason led the way into the house and together they ascended the staircase to Jason’s second floor. He’d bought the home for investment purposes and had had it professionally decorated. The traditional furnishings weren’t her taste, but they suited the home’s colonial styling.

  He’d taken one of the four bedrooms as his man cave. A wall-to-wall tribute to his great passion for amateur car racing. On one wall, a worn leather couch, left over from his college days, sat facing a sixty-inch flat-screen TV. If Jason wasn’t racing his Mustang or in the garage restoring a car, he was here, watching NASCAR events or recaps of his previous races.

  He hit the play button on the remote and showed Ming the clip of the race’s conclusion.

  The results surprised her. “You didn’t win?” He’d been having his best season ever. “What happened?”

  His large frame slammed into the old couch as he sat down in a disgruntled huff. A man as competitive as Jason had a hard time coming in second. “Had a lot on my mind.”

  The way his gaze bore into her, Ming realized he blamed her for his loss. She joined him on the couch and jabbed her finger into his ribs. “I’m not going to apologize for taking a week to give your terms some thought.”

  “I would’ve been able to concentrate if I’d known your answer.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” she said, keeping her tone light. Mouth Sahara dry, she drank more beer.

  He dropped his arm over the back of the couch. His fingertips grazed her bare shoulder. “You don’t think the thought of us making love has preoccupied me this last week?”

  “Then you agree that we run the risk of changing things between us.”

  “It doesn’t have to.” Jason’s fingers continued to dwell on her skin, but now he was trailing lines of fire along her collarbone. “Besides, that’s not what preoccupied me.”

  This told Ming all she needed to know about why he’d suggested they skip the fertility clinic. For Jason this was all about the sex. Fine. It could be all about the sex for her, too.

  “Okay. Let’s do it.” She spoke the words before she could second-guess herself. She stared at the television screen. It would be easier to say this next part without meeting his penetrating gaze. “But I have a few conditions of my own.”

  He leaned close enough for her to feel his breath on her neck. “You want me to romance you?”

  As goose bumps appeared on her arms, she made herself laugh. “Hardly. There is a window of three days during which we can try. If I don’t get pregnant your way, then you agree to do it my way.” Stipulating her terms put her back on solid ground with him. “I’m not planning on dragging this out indefinitely.”

  “I agree to those three days, but I want uninterrupted time with you.”

  She dug her fingernails beneath the beer label. In typical Jason fashion, he was messing up her well-laid plans.

  She’d been thinking in terms of three short evenings of fantastic sex here at his house and then heading back home to relive the moments in the privacy of her bedroom. Not days and nights of all Jason all the time. What if she talked in her sleep and told him all her secret fantasies about him? What if he didn’t let her sleep and she grew so delirious from all the hours of making love that she said something in the heat of passion?

  “You’re crazy if you think our families are going to leave us alone for three days.”

  “They will if we’re not in Houston.”

  This was her baby. She should be the one who decided where and when it was conceived. The lack of control was making her edgy. Vulnerable.

  “I propose we go somewhere far away,” he continued. “A secluded spot where we can concentrate on the business at hand.”

  The business at hand? He caressed those four words with such a high degree of sensuality, her body vibrated with excitement.

  “I’ll figure out where and let you know.” At least if she took charge of where they went she wouldn’t have to worry about her baby being conceived in whatever town NASCAR was racing that weekend.

  She started to shift her weight forward, preparing to stand, when Jason’s hand slid across her abdomen and circled around to her spine.

  “Before you go.”

  He tugged her upper half toward him. The hand that had been skimming her shoulder now cupped the back of her head. She was trapped between the heat of his body and his strong arm, her breasts skimming his chest, nipples turning into buds as desire plunged her into a whirlpool of longing. The inte
nt in his eyes set her heart to thumping in an irregular rhythm.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, retreating from the lips dipping toward hers.

  “Sealing our deal with a kiss.”

  “A handshake will work fine.”

  Her brusque dismissal didn’t dim the smug smile curving his lips. She put her hand on his chest. Rock-hard pecs flexed beneath her fingers. The even thump of his heart mocked her wildly fluctuating pulse.

  “Not for me.” He captured and held her gaze before letting his mouth graze hers. With a brief survey of her expression, he nodded. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”

  “Right.” Her chest rose and fell, betraying her agitation. “Not bad.”

  “If you relax it will get even better.” He shifted his attention to her chin, the line of her jaw, dusting his lips over her skin and making her senses whirl.

  “I’m not ready to relax.” She’d geared up to tell him that she’d try getting pregnant his way. Getting physical with him would require a different sort of preparation.

  “You don’t have to get ready.” His chest vibrated with a low chuckle. “Just relax.”

  “Jason, how long have we known each other?”

  “Long time.” He found a spot that interested him just below her ear and lingered until she shivered. “Why?”

  Her voice lacked serenity as she said, “Then you know I don’t do anything without planning.”

  His exhalation tickled her sensitive skin and made holding still almost impossible. “You don’t need to plan. Just let go.”

  Right. And risk him discovering her secret? Ever since she’d decided to ask his help in getting pregnant, she’d realized that what she felt for him was deeper than friendship. Not love. Or not the romantic sort. At least she didn’t think so. Not yet. But it could become that sort of love if they made love over and over and over.

  And if he found out how her feelings had changed toward him, he’d bolt the way he’d run from every other woman who’d tried to claim his heart.

  Ming tensed to keep from responding to the persuasive magic of his touch. Just the sweep of his lips over her skin, the strength of his arms around her, raised her temperature and made her long for him to take her hard and fast.