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He wasn’t letting that happen—wasn’t letting her discount him as easily as she’d thought.
“So you’re definitely going to have the baby.” He was fooling with a paper clip on his desk. Bending it into odd shapes with two fingers of his left hand. Did that mean he was left-handed? She hadn’t noticed before.
Did that mean her baby might be left-handed, as well?
“Yes, I’m going to have it.” She swallowed. Her baby. And this man’s.
He looked up, head cocked to one side, eyes narrowed. “I can’t be a father.”
The sigh of relief escaped Phyllis before she could prevent it. “Who asked you to be?”
Back to his paper clip. She wondered if he was staring at it so intently because he was really trying to create some particular design—or because he didn’t want to look at her.
“I’ll pay for everything.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
A baby. A baby with her traits and his, all mixed together. Growing inside her body.
He raised his head, frowning. “Of course it’s necessary. I’m responsible. I pay.”
Two could play that game. “I’m responsible. I pay.”
“Well, then, we’re both responsible. We split the bills fifty-fifty.”
No! That wasn’t the plan. She was doing this alone.
But he had her. They were both responsible. She just hadn’t figured he’d care. How was she to know he had a streak of responsibility in his reclusive body?
“Have you been to the doctor yet?”
Phyllis shook her head. Don’t do this, she silently begged him. Don’t confuse me. Don’t weaken me by carrying any of my load, or I might not be able to carry it all when you walk away.
“You’ll let me know when your appointment is?”
She couldn’t breathe. Needed to get outside, let the cool October air chill her skin. Remind herself that she was okay.
“Why?” Somehow her voice sounded almost normal.
He shrugged. “I’m half-responsible. I should know stuff like that.”
“Just how much are you counting on here? What exactly will you want to know?”
“Not sure.” He’d picked up another paper clip. This one with his right hand. “I’m new at this, too. I guess when something costs money, I should know about it.”
That wasn’t as bad as she’d begun to think. It wasn’t personal. Merely financial.
“I’ll see that you get copies of the bills.”
His face expressionless, he nodded.
“There’s one other thing,” she added quickly.
Matt looked up at her, his eyes wary, questioning.
“Cassie Montford knows you’re the father—it seemed necessary that someone know in case something happens—but she’s been sworn to secrecy. I don’t want anyone else knowing.”
He seemed to consider that for several moments. “It would probably make things easier on both of us,” he said at last.
