Surrogate and Wife. Emily McKay

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СКАЧАТЬ reason to maintain her distance.

      So she stiffened her spine as well as her resolve, and said, “No, I don’t.”

      “Regardless of that, we’re in this together now.”

      “I disagree. If anyone is in this together, it’s Beth, Stewart and me. Your part in this is, thankfully, over.”

      “That might have been true before, but now—”

      “Nothing is different now.”

      “You can’t really be that naive.”

      She bristled at his words, even though there was nothing objectionable in his tone. She leaned forward over the table. “Trust me. I am anything but naive. I understand exactly—”

      “Okay, not naive then.” He held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “But you’ve got to admit, things are going to be a lot different than any of you planned.”

      “Yes, they’ll be different, but I’ll manage.”

      He continued as if he hadn’t heard her concession. “You were planning on Beth and Stew helping you out. Taking care of you. Things are going to be different now. They’ve got their own pregnancy to contend with.”

      “You think I can’t take care of myself? Trust me, I’ve been doing it for years. Far longer than most women my age, actually.”

      “That’s not what I meant.”

      “Then what did you mean?”

      “From what Beth has said, you haven’t had an easy first trimester, but it’s only going to get worse. The second trimester won’t be too bad, but by the time you hit the third trimester, you’ll—”

      “What makes you such an expert? Have you taken some sort of course in prenatal care?”

      He grimaced. “No, but five of my buddies have had babies in the past eighteen months. I’ve heard my share of complaints about late-night cravings and women who can’t tie their own shoelaces.”

      “Well, unless you’re planning on moving in with me, I don’t see how you could help with either one of those situations.” She chuckled, but the sound died in her throat when she realized he wasn’t laughing with her. “Oh my God. You can’t be serious.” She gaped at him in disbelief, waiting for him to crack a smile and laugh at her expense. He didn’t even blink. “You are serious. You think we should move in together.”

      Two

      Kate jerked away from him and shrank back into the booth. “Are you insane?”

      Okay, that could have gone a little more smoothly.

      “Just hear me out—”

      “I mean, I knew you were crazy in that, anyone-willing-to-run-into-a-burning-building kind of way, but this?”

      Okay, a lot more smoothly.

      “Or are you joking? Because this just isn’t funny.”

      “I’m not joking. And if you’ll just give me a chance to explain—”

      But before he could, the waitress approached with their food.

      Kate fumed in silence while their plates were distributed, glaring at him from across the table as if wishing she could charge him with contempt of court.

      “Okay, talk,” she ordered as soon as the waitress was out of earshot. “But make it good, because I’m having a hard time believing that you’ve been nursing a secret desire to cater to the whims of a second-trimester pregnant woman.”

      She continued her diatribe for a solid four more minutes. He didn’t bother interrupting—she wouldn’t have let him, anyway. Instead, he took the opportunity to study her.

      With her ivory complexion and thick black hair pulled back from her face, he’d have to be dead not to notice how beautiful she was. She wasn’t anything like the women he normally dated, but she piqued his interest. Smart, sexy and fiercely independent. Challenging enough to keep things interesting without ever being clingy or emotionally demanding.

      Not that he’d dream of pursuing her now. That would only screw up an already complicated situation. To make matters worse, he couldn’t help admiring how she resisted his help. Even though it made things more difficult for him.

      “I wouldn’t have to actually move in,” he pointed out once she seemed to lose steam. “But I could still help out.” Changing tactics, he said, “Beth and Stew are worried about you.”

      She rolled her eyes. “Beth and Stew always worry about me. Trust me, if it wasn’t this, it’d be something else. The part of town I live in or the hours I work. Beth is a worrier.”

      “Well, this time she feels responsible.” He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on either side of his plate. “Whether you like it or not, your life is changing. I can help you.”

      “What exactly is it you think I need help with?”

      “Whatever.” He shrugged. “Laundry, grocery shopping, cooking. The point is, you don’t have to be so stubborn. You don’t have to do everything on your own.”

      Her eyes flashed as she leaned forward and spoke with barely concealed annoyance. “I’m not being stubborn. I can take care of myself. I am not your problem. I—”

      He recognized the slipup as soon as the words were out of her mouth. The way she broke off, then pulled away from the table to toy with her napkin as if flustered, only confirmed that she hadn’t meant to give so much away.

      Maybe he should have just let it go, but he couldn’t resist digging a little. I never said you were.”

      She wiped her fingers on her napkin and tossed it to the side of her plate. “Fine. The baby is not your problem. None of this has anything to do with you.”

      “Ah, come on. Even you have to admit it has at least a little to do with me.”

      She waved her hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, your part was very important. I certainly didn’t mean to belittle your contribution of spending thirty minutes in a locked room with a plastic cup, but I daresay you’ve done enough. This end of the deal—” she gestured to her belly “—is all my responsibility.”

      Suddenly he didn’t feel like teasing her anymore. “You don’t have to do it all on your own.”

      She cleared her throat. He could practically see her struggling for a flip response, but in the end, her answer came out sounding as serious as his had. “Yes, I do.”

      “But—”

      “Look, even if your intentions are good, we’re talking about the next six months of your life. You’re bound to get bored of playing house.”

      “I’m not—”

      “I didn’t mean that as an insult,” she reassured him. “We’re talking about half a year СКАЧАТЬ