Wait. This was what he’d come here for. He said, “That’s the only thing I know. That I need to do some things right. Starting with taking care of you.”
“You don’t have to take care of me,” she said, because of course she did. She took her hands away, too. Straightened her dress. Got ready to be efficient and cheerful again. “And don’t tell me your lawyer’s advising you to say things like that, because I won’t believe it. He’s told you to keep your distance from me. Talked about implied promises. Told you that—”
“Stop.”
It was just a word, but she jumped, so he softened his tone. “Look. I don’t care what my lawyer says. I had a lousy dad. I don’t have a clue how to do this thing right, but I’m pretty sure you start by taking care of the mom. So that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Exactly what are you suggesting?” she asked. “I’m working. I’m fine. Or not exactly fine, but I’ll do it. I’ll find a way.”
“I don’t want you to find a way!” It came out too harsh, and she jumped again. He sighed. “Look. If you’re going to be living in Portland, I want you and Dyma with me. Well, I want you with me anyway. That’s the right thing, and it’s what I want. And I was glad when I found out the baby was mine. I was scared as hell, but I was glad, too. That’s what I came up here to tell you. And I think you should move in.”
She reared back. She did more than that. She stood up. “That’s …”
“Wait,” he said. “Hear me out. I’ve got a big place. Well, you’ve seen it. It’s got guest quarters above the garage. Little kitchen in there and everything.”
“I’m going to live above your garage.” She had her arms crossed now, which wasn’t a good sign. “Sure those aren’t the maid’s quarters?”
“Fine. Then how about this? I move you in all the way. You can have your own bedroom, or even better, I move you into mine. I see what you need, and I give it to you. Every single day.”
“Uh-huh.” She was looking at him narrow-eyed. “Like … clothes?”
“Well, hell, yeah, clothes. And anything else you need.”
“Like, for instance … an orgasm?”
“Aw, baby.” He got hold of her hand and pulled her into him where he sat on the bed. Slowly, because she wasn’t exactly resisting. He got her between his knees, put his hands on either side of her waist, and asked, “You only want one? You need to learn how to be a little more demanding. How to ask for what you want. I could help with that, too.” He leaned forward and kissed her through her pretty dress. Right there where his baby was growing.
“Yeah,” she said, but she sounded a little breathless. “That’s not happening.”
“Which is the reason for the guest quarters. Annabelle needs more than I can give her. A friend, at least. You and Dyma need a place to stay until Dyma starts at Washington. You’re going to be working in Portland, and I’m not going to have you living in some crappy, moldy, dangerous place.”
“Moldy?”
“It’s Portland. It’s wet. I need to know you’re safe and fed and happy, and that you’re not getting worn out.”
“You make me sound like a puppy.”
He had to smile, and he had to kiss her belly again, because it was right there, and pull her in a little closer, too. “No. Not a puppy. A woman.”
“How about if you want to date somebody else? How about if I do?”
He froze.
“Yeah,” she said. Still sounding breathless, and she wasn’t moving away—in fact, somehow, she had her hands on his shoulders now, and she was hanging on like she wanted to be there. “That’s a tricky one, huh? What if I invite my big, strong new boyfriend over, while I’m living in your maid’s quarters?”
He thought, I’ll have to hurt him, that’s what. Clearly the wrong answer. He said, “Where’s Dyma while this is happening?” A pretty good save, in his opinion.
“Dyma,” Jennifer said sweetly, “is hanging out with Annabelle, the same way she is right … now.” She’d lost her train of thought a little there, maybe, because his hand had drifted down the back of her leg and found its way under her skirt. And that was nice. Smooth skin, and those round thighs. He was a fan.
Focus.
He was focused.
Focus on the other part.
He didn’t say that she couldn’t find somebody new, not while she was pregnant. She was pregnant right now, and she’d look good to just about any guy, ripe and juicy and luscious as a peach straight off the tree. Blake had some ex-players working for him, and Harlan could think of two or three of them right now that he didn’t want anywhere near Jennifer.
She said, “That’s got you, huh.”
“Nope,” he said. “I just can’t manage to say anything that’s acceptable. I know the right thing to say. I just can’t say it.”
She didn’t want to say this, either.
She needed to say it anyway.
She said, “Yeah. You know? I realize … that’s not going to work for me.”
His hand stopped moving on her thigh, which was good. Well, not good, since it had made it most of the way up, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and that felt … Well, anyway. That was the exact reason this wouldn’t work.
She took a step away, looked at him sitting there in faded Levi’s and a Devils T-shirt, the extensions gone and his hair cut short again, making him tougher and harder, the way he’d been when she’d met him. The way that made her knees go weak. The way that felt like the real man.
Oh. He was waiting for her to say something.
She heard her mom’s voice. Tell the truth, and shame the devil.
“I can’t do that,” she said. “I had casual sex with you already. Once, because the second time wasn’t casual. I told myself it was, and I knew even while I did it that I was lying. The first time wasn’t, either, not really. Not for me. I had casual sex with you zero times, and that’s the truth. My heart can’t do casual, or it can’t do it with you. And I’m headed straight for pain.”
He started to say something, and she held up her hand and said, “Please. Let me try to say this. I just realized something. Something about how I felt when I saw you come in the door. About how I feel every time I’m with you. I can’t just date you and hope for the best. If I go any further down this road, I’m going to be so …” Another pause, but there was no way out except straight through this. “You’re not just going to be the father of my baby. You’re going to matter too much. It’s going to hurt so bad to fall in love with you, and I can’t go there. I can’t spend another four years of my life throwing my heart away. I can’t spend one more year like that, not when I know that you aren’t a staying-around guy, because you told me so. And that’s OK,” she hurried on. “You get to be any way you need to be. It’s your life. But what I need is for us to be friends.”
“Friends,” he said slowly.
“Yes. I care about you. I care about Annabelle, and I want to help you both. And you’re right that these next months are going to be …” Her chin wobbled, and she did her best to firm it up. “Hard for me. That I’m feeling financial pressure. That the thought of finding someplace to live in Portland that I can afford, trying to figure out how to take a couple months off to recover and be with the baby and still help Dyma, how to pay all that out-of-pocket medical, even if I have insurance, and how to help my grandpa, too, scares me to death. I’ve run the numbers every way I can, and I still keep coming up short. You can’t even sell plasma if you’re pregnant.” She smiled to show him it was a joke, and he didn’t smile back. She thought, finish it, and did. “I don’t see how Dyma doesn’t end up having to take a year off school to save money and help me with the baby, and I can’t stand for her to have to do that. I can’t stand it. She should get her life. She’s not the one who made my choices, and she shouldn’t have to pay for them. So …”