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“I want to be a part of the baby’s life.”
I don’t know what exactly I was expecting from this phone call, but this isn’t it. I sit up straighter on the sofa, one hand protectively over my stomach. “That’s not what we agreed to, Ian.” My eyes flit to my tote bag that holds my laptop and somewhere the electronic version of the contract. The unsigned contract.
“If you want to fight me, you need to lawyer up. Because I’m fairly certain, given I never signed your contract, the courts will support my paternity rights. And we didn’t follow the standard donor channels, so I’m guessing you’re not really going to want to go to court on this.”
Court? I don’t have the money. Or the heart. Tears well up and spill over. But this doesn’t have to be a bad thing. This is Ian. He’s a friend. He wouldn’t take my baby away from me. Would he?
“What, exactly, do you want, Ian? What are you asking for?” He said he doesn’t want to be a father. This doesn’t make sense.
“Joint custody.” My hand rises from my belly to my heart, and I clutch at the fabric.
“Have you told your family?” Did he already tell Mrs. Duke? Earlier today, did she know it’s his?
“That is the thing you’d be most worried about, isn’t it?”
ChapterThirty-One
Sandra
Oliver and Kate’s Engagement Weekend
As I approach the Duke ranch house, my lips quiver and my blasted eyes well up. I breathe in deeply, sniffing hard, attempting to keep all that down. Since Ian’s phone call, I’ve been more emotional than a bachelorette contestant. I haven’t been able to bring myself to tell Aunt Nora. I’m too ashamed. I didn’t get the contract signed. And now he’s insisting we tell everyone. And I don’t know if he’s thought about it, but I can’t help but wonder, does he envision taking my baby away half the time? Like a divorced couple?
I’d known this was a bad idea. But I did it anyway. Only now I’m confused as all get-out. I offered him exactly what he wanted. Sex. Lots of it for many, many weekends. No strings fun times with zero responsibilities or expectations, and now he’s angry? And he wants responsibilities?
I haven’t contacted a lawyer. I have zero plans to fight Ian on parental rights. If he wants to be involved in the baby’s life, of course he can be. But I don’t know how he’ll have time. He always said he wouldn’t have time. He’s switched on me, which is exactly why I should’ve had that contract signed.
Normally, I’d go to Oliver about something like this. Or Noah. But I can’t go to either of them. I won’t put them in the middle between me and Ian.
So, in a weak moment, on the bathroom floor at the salon, I did something that’s unlike me. I opened up to Kara. She’d suspected because of the morning nausea. But she gave me something I didn’t expect. A friend. More than a friend. A warrior. In a flash, Ian became persona non grata. Enemy of the state. An asshole of epic proportions. A man not worthy of me or my time. Do I agree with her? Not necessarily. I’m so confused. But damn if it doesn’t feel good to have someone leap to my side. And somehow I know that if she’s around when someone says something nasty, she’ll pull out a defensive shield to protect me, and her sword if needed.
Nausea swirls in my belly, more than normal, as does an unprecedented degree of trepidation. I’d like to think Ian wouldn’t spill our secrets to his family without us agreeing on what we will say, but I just don’t know. The Ian on the phone the other day poured vitriol. So much anger. He wasn’t the Ian I know and love. He sounded hurt, but we followed the plan. And then Sam showed up, and I’m not even sure what happened, other than our arrangement felt wrong. Like one very bad idea.
Mrs. Duke answers the door with an enormous smile. She lifts the puppy crate from my hand and glances sideways across my stomach to the shiny present tucked against my side.
“The engagement gift might be premature, but…” I shrug. Etiquette for being a part of the onlooking crowd of a marriage proposal is murky.
“Ollie keeps calling the pup his magic lasso.” Mrs. Duke hustles down the hall to the back of the house, and from behind her, I roll my eyes. As if someone should lasso a woman.
The fine hairs on my arms lift. Sensing him, I scan the hallway and the living area, searching.
He’s here.
Through the sliding glass door, Ian’s dark gaze burns. Blasted tears rise from nowhere.
Fuck. I really just cannot. Bile rises in the back of my throat.
Mrs. Duke hustles right on out, by-stepping her son. She busies herself getting the puppy set up on the back porch. Ian steps through the glass door and shuts it behind him. They don’t always keep the door shut, but the pollen has been bad this spring. Either that, or he wants to get our talk done with right now.
He doesn’t need a lawyer. I should start with that, but instead I say, “I didn’t realize you’d be here.” My gaze falls to the table, and a tear spills over.
As promised, there are no balloons or anything to clue Kate in that this is a special day. Oliver wanted it that way, so he’d get the maximum bang out of his surprise. I set my present on the kitchen table and inhale deeply to quell the slight dizziness and to dry up some of those inconvenient tears.
“As I understand it, this is a family event. Last time I checked, I’m a member of the Duke family.”
I nod, absorbing his harsh words while staring at the scratches in the varnish on the wood floor.
“I wouldn’t have come here if I’d known you’d be here.” I step away from him, down the hall. He doesn’t want to see me, and this is his home. I should’ve known—
