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“You’re such a busybody. And I thank you for it.”
Kari giggled hard. “You know by now I’ve got your back. You’re gonna be happy whether you want to or not, damn it. I’m gonna make sure of it.”
Amara stood, determined, and wearing a wide grin. “I know. Thank you, Kari. Seriously, for everything. I’ll talk to you later, all right?”
“Yeah, yeah. No reason to thank me. But tell me if he’s got a brother or a cousin or something. You know I’m still looking for a good man, and anybody around him has got to be something special.”
Amara said goodbye and padded quietly back into the main room of the suite. Quint was walking with Hampton, rocking him gently in his arms, a half-empty bottle sticking out of his suit-jacket pocket.
Hampton was fast asleep, bundled up in the soft, crochet blanket Raneesha made for him after he was brought home from the hospital.
Quint looked up with a broad smile, giving a slight nod of his head toward Hampton, and spoke in a near-whisper. “He’s an angel, Amara. I’d like to say he got his temperament from me, but I’m told I was a little terror.”
Amara chuckled softly and went over to him. She scooped Hampton up carefully and rocked him as she carried him to the cradle they’d set up in her room. She lowered him into the cradle and started a slow, gentle rock before turning back to Quint.
He moved back and motioned for her, and once she turned on the baby monitor, she stepped outside. He closed the door quietly behind her and made his way into the living area, his voice picking up once they were well away from the door.
“These last few days have been magical, Amara. It’s surreal, getting to hold my son.”
She spoke up almost abruptly, finding no way to introduce the topic more subtly or gently. “Quint, why did you choose me? Why pick me to have your baby?”
Chapter Thirty Nine
QUINT’S BROW RAISED IN SURPRISE and confusion. “What kind of question is that?”
“A good question.”
“I thought we discussed that when I made my offer to you. I need a drink. You want a drink?”
“Yeah, I think I’m going to need one.”
Quint headed over to the small bar. “I’m afraid to know what you mean by that.”
Amara followed him and leaned on the gleaming, polished wood bar top. “You didn’t answer my question.”
He poured some single malt scotch into a pair of short tumblers. “You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman. Need I have other reasons?”
Amara shook her head and accepted the glass he offered her. “I don’t think that’s it, Quint. That’s not enough. Kari’s as smart, maybe smarter. And she’s beautiful. So is my friend Jaslene. There are plenty of women around who fit those criteria, and it’s not like you and I knew each other all that well after that conference, no matter how quickly we got close.”
Quint took a sip of the scotch, stalling for time by savoring the fine drink. Finally, he heaved a heavy sigh of resignation and straightened up. “Fine. I admit it. I couldn’t stop thinking about you after we met and things fell apart. The thought of what might have been between us was a real thorn in my side.”
“You weren’t used to being told no.”
“True. But it was more than that. You made me feel things I hadn’t felt in a long time, probably ever. And you forced me to think more critically about the wider world view of poverty. You brought their reality right to my doorstep, and I couldn’t go back after that, not after being so close to you.”
A warmth grew in Amara’s chest, and it wasn’t caused by the smooth whiskey she was sipping. “Did I truly change your mind about economically disadvantaged people just because I wouldn’t sleep with you?”
Quint laughed heartily. “It does sound like that, I guess. No, it’s not that simple, and yet, it’s partly true. I needed to wake up, to get past myself and stop thinking everything was about me. I felt protective of you, hungry for your attention and your approval.”
“So you came and played Rumpelstiltskin with me. That was sure to get my approval.”
He laughed again. “Damn, that’s why I can’t resist you. You slice right to the bone of the matter.”
They sipped their drinks and silently regarded each other.
When Quint spoke again, there was a vulnerability in his tone. “I always believed that you felt something too, something about me, something that lasted past being angry at me. Did you feel something, or was that only my wishful thinking?”
She shook her head slowly. “I didn’t want to admit it to myself, Quint, but yes, I did. I read everything I could find about you after that, so I was watching you grow. And I did approve.”
