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“I shouldn’t have asked if it was mine.”
“No kidding.”
“It’s just been months and you called to let me down easy—”
“Oh, no, buster, I did not call to let you down easy. This is your baby as much as mine.” I stepped forward and poked him in the chest. “I don’t want your stupid money for me, but you will provide for your child if there are things that I can’t. Though I’m going to try. I’m going to try to give him or her the fucking world.” I dashed at the tears dripping down my chin yet again with my other hand, smacking at them to make them disappear.
I was not some weak woman who couldn’t take care of her business. I was just so freaking irritated right now that I probably could’ve castrated him with my ice cream scoop and not even felt guilty.
At least until tomorrow.
He gripped my hand and held it tight while his gaze locked on mine. Only then did I see the deep lines around his eyes as if he hadn’t been sleeping well. And the way his shirt hung on him looser than it had in the past.
Had to be my imagination. I was the one who’d suffered during our separation.
Not him. He was the freewheeling playboy living the California lifestyle with all his rocker pals. Being the big shot and spending money while I scrambled for tips at the diner.
“Of course I’ll do my part. I would never shirk my responsibility.” The indignation in his tone soothed the side of me that had worried my income wouldn’t be enough to provide for my child.
No matter how hard I worked, I was starting a new business. Most businesses lost money the first few years, if they even survived. I liked to wear my rose-colored glasses, but I couldn’t right now. Not when I had a baby to consider.
Knowing Rory would be there financially if needed was a relief.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“You’re damn right I don’t. It’s your responsibility, as you just said. We were both reckless, but I wasn’t reckless alone.”
“Reckless by even having sex at all? We were careful—” He broke off and wiped his hand down the side of his face. “Except that one time I forgot, but I blame the copper for that.”
“How exactly is it fault of the ‘copper’ when we were mid-sex when he arrived?”
“I didn’t even finish!”
“Someone missed their high school health classes
. You can get knocked up without the full explosion.”
“There wasn’t even a partial explosion,” he muttered. “I barely got off three strokes.”
“As much as I love this trip down memory lane, that wasn’t when. We timed where I was in my cycle and the baby’s progress and it probably happened the first night we met. If not, certainly the next afternoon. So, you could’ve gotten off eighteen strokes bare, and it wouldn’t have mattered.”
He smacked the inside of his wrist and I jumped. “Bug?” I craned my neck to peer around the ceiling. “Are there bugs in here?”
“No.” His smile was sheepish. “Sorry. It’s this thing Ian taught me to divert—oh, never mind. It sounds even more ridiculous when I say it out loud.”
I said nothing.
He exhaled and dipped his hands into his pockets. “So, you’re well then?”
I braced my hand against the aching small of my back, which was more from all the work I’d been doing than my pea-sized baby. “We’re doing fine.”
“Yes. Of course. Both of you. That’s what I meant.” He rubbed his hand over his mouth and went back to staring at my belly as if it was radioactive and might spew at any time.
Rolling my eyes, I turned away and returned to my paintbrushes in the sink.
“So, that’s it then? You’re just going to ignore me until I leave?” He swore under his breath. “Can you really blame me for thinking you’d be calling to sever all ties? You gave me your word—”
