And Able (17 page)

Read And Able Online

Authors: Lucy Monroe

Tags: #Romance, #General, #Fiction, #Contemporary, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Friendship

 

Hotwire sighed. She was angry and it was only going to get worse.

He had a plan to mitigate the consequence of his stupidity, but fixing a problem that should never have become a problem wasn’t something he liked doing. Nor was he used to being in this position.

At least not with him as the instigator of the debacle.

She came out less than a minute later, wearing the hotel bathrobe and looking ornery. She’d finger combed her red curls, but even wet, they showed signs of having a will all their own.

He wished she’d put on one of the outfits he’d gotten her. She was too damn alluring wearing a garment he’d always associated with the bedroom. And he was not going back in there until they had some things settled between them.

He hadn’t started making her tea yet and found himself moving out of her way so she could do it. He wasn’t going to mess with the aura of mulish irritation surrounding her, no sir.

For a woman who was pretty much a disaster in the kitchen, she sure was particular how she made her tea. She even timed how long she left it to steep before adding one perfectly level teaspoon of sugar to her cup and two heaping ones to a second mug he assumed was his.

She finished about the same time he finished putting away the few groceries he’d bought while he’d been out shopping.

She handed him the heavily sweetened tea. “Here. We can talk in the other room.”

He took the mug from her, noticing how careful she was not to touch him.

He frowned. “I don’t bite.”

She glared right back. “Maybe I do.”

He had to clamp down on an urge to laugh. That would not be a smart move right now, but she was the cutest testy person he’d ever seen. He sat at one end of the couch, but regretted his choice the second Claire followed suit. So close, she was way too tempting for his peace of mind or his self-control in the face of their need to talk.

Sitting in the spot right next to him, she faced him with her legs tucked up next to her. “So, does any of this grim fatalism you’ve been subjecting me to since coming in have something to do with the fact you didn’t use the condoms you bought?”

He’d been about to take a sip of his tea, but put it down right quick. He had no desire to scald himself as shock coursed through him. “You realized I didn’t use one?”

And was taking it this calmly?

“Not at the time, no.” She took a sip of her tea, her gaze steady over the rim of her mug. “But it did when I was in the shower. It probably should have occurred to me earlier, like when I woke up, but I was too busy wallowing in how good it had been. I never got as wet as I did the night you gave me pleasure to help me sleep, so I wasn’t entirely sure, but I suspected. I guess I’m slow about some things.”

“Your brain is really fast.”

“Not fast enough to remind you to use protection, apparently.”

“It wasn’t your job. I was the experienced one. It’s entirely my fault.”

She frowned at him. “You don’t honestly believe that, do you? Because if you do, it’s a terrible insult to my intelligence. I’m an adult and I’m responsible for my own actions, or lack thereof. And while I may not have a list of lovers as long as my arm, I’m no naïve virgin. I know the importance of using protection when having sex.”

“You didn’t know what you were getting into, how overwhelming it was going to be.” Hell, neither had he, but he should have had an inkling, considering how hot he’d been for her. And that was what he had to focus on here.
 
He should have known better
; therefore, he had been the one to make the mistake. “You said yourself, you’d never before had sex worth writing home about. I should have protected you, but I screwed up. Big time.”

They weren’t easy words to say. He worked hard never to have to say them, so when they were necessary, they were like sandpaper on his voice box.

“I don’t understand how this is your personal faux pas. You were as lost to what was happening between us as I was.”

“But I shouldn’t have been.”

She eyed him speculatively. “Are you saying you aren’t normally?”

“No,” he gritted, feeling like a fool.

“Do you forget the condom very often?” She didn’t sound worried.

In fact, if he didn’t know better, he’d think that was relief darkening her brown eyes…and a certain amount of smug satisfaction. But no woman would react that way to learning she had just had unprotected sex, especially a woman as practical as Claire.

“Of course not. I never rely on my partner for birth control.”

“So, I don’t have to be concerned about contracting any nasty diseases?”

“No,” he said, even more affronted by this question than the last.

Did she seriously think he would make love to her without warning her about such a thing? Not to mention the fact that he was a lot choosier about his sex partners than she seemed to give him credit for. “I am not carrying an STD.”

“Good. Neither am I.”

“Glad to hear it, but that’s not the main issue here.”

“So, what you are saying here is that you think because I was less experienced in the art of sex and mind-blowing orgasms that I was allowed to be brain-dead when it came to protecting myself from pregnancy?”

“No.” For a woman with intelligence as fine as hers, she made some strange assumptions. “I did not say you were brain-dead.”

“Then you agree that forgetting the condom was both our faults…both our responsibilities?”

“No.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” She was getting all squinty-eyed, and calm patience was not the emotion emanating from her right now.

“I’m being honest. It’s not easy to admit I made such a huge mistake, but I’m not going to shirk from it, either.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’ll make it right.”

“In what way?”

“I think we should get married.”

Chapter 15

H
 
otwire wanted to curse.

That had come out wrong. He hadn’t meant to blurt it out without any buildup. Even if theirs wasn’t the romance of the century, a woman deserved to be asked to be married with some finesse. Like over dinner with candlelight and a warm kiss, or two.

But he’d already blurted it out. Now he needed to go with the momentum…such that it was.

Her eyes were wide with shock.
 
“What?”

“I
 
want
 
you to marry me. Please.” At least that sounded better. Saying
 
please
 
was a good touch.

Only she didn’t look even remotely more reconciled to the idea. Shock was still the only expression he could read on her face.

“Because we forgot to use a condom?” she asked in a voice that echoed astonishment.

“Because you might be pregnant.”

She gasped, as if he’d said something offensive. “How likely do you really think that is?”

“You tell me.”

“What do you mean?” she demanded belligerently.

“It’s
 
your
 
female cycle.”

“Oh.” She went still, as if counting the days, and then her brow wrinkled and she bit her bottom lip. “I’m right in the middle of my cycle.”

“So the timing couldn’t be worse.” Damn it. He’d done it again. “I mean, the chances we made a baby are pretty high.”

“No. The possibility of conception exists, yes, but statistics show that men and women make love all the time during the optimum days in a woman’s cycle without her getting pregnant. Why do you think fertility specialists are in such high demand here in the United States?”

“It’s a high risk,” he insisted. “Not everything is about statistics, Claire.”

“And because of what you consider a high risk, not even a definite reality, you’re willing to sacrifice your future and marry me?”

“It wouldn’t be a sacrifice.”

“Right. You don’t love me—you told me so—and you never once thought of marriage before forgetting the condom.”

He wasn’t going there. She was right, but admitting it would only add fuel to her arguments. He’d already messed up enough in this discussion. “Claire, you can’t tell me that after your childhood, you would take single motherhood lightly.”

“After my childhood, the prospect of being a mother at all is not something I want to contemplate.”

“Are you saying that you would terminate the pregnancy?” He’d never considered that possibility.

Maybe he should have.

Her expression filled with horrified revulsion. “I don’t eat meat because the thought of killing animals is so abhorrent to me! Do you really believe I could kill my own child?”

“Some people—”

“Are not me. I do not see abortion as a viable form of birth control.”

“I don’t, either.”

“Then why bring it up?”

“You said you didn’t want to be a mother.”

“I said it wasn’t something I wanted to think about, not that I wouldn’t do my best to be a good one if I had a child.”

“I knew you’d feel that way.”

“What way?” she asked warily.

“That giving our baby a chance at the best possible life would be worth whatever you had to do to ensure that.”

“And you think that good life includes me marrying you?”

“After growing up with your mom the way she was, you’d want to give your child two parents it could count on.”

“Are you trying to say that after your
 
normal
 
upbringing,
 
you
 
don’t feel that way?” The way she asked it made him feel like he’d insulted her.

“I didn’t mean to imply—”

“Let’s get something straight here—my mom wasn’t a rotten parent because she was single. She was a rotten parent because she drank. I don’t. I won’t. And I don’t have to get married to give any child of mine a life worth living.”

“But marrying me would make it easier. Admit it. You’re just finished with school…you haven’t established a career yet.
 
You need me
.” Couldn’t she see that?

She scooted away from him as if he were diseased. “I’m not your charity case. You don’t have to marry me out of some mistaken sense of chivalry or fear I’ll follow in my mother’s footsteps and rely on the largesse of the state to provide for my child.”

“That is one fear I will never have,” he said forcefully. “This is not about me thinking you’d be anything but a terrific mom. You’re too strong and too smart to ever make your mom’s choices, but why should you have to make any hard choices at all? The mistake was mine and there is nothing chivalrous in making it right.”

“It was both our mistakes!” She glared at him. “And I don’t need you
 
making it right
.”

What the heck was the matter with her? “You’re acting like I’ve grossly offended you.”

“You have.”

“Asking you to marry me is an offense?” he demanded, none too happy at the moment himself.

“You didn’t ask. You informed me it was the best solution to making up for a
 
mistake
 
you
 
regret
 
making.”

“I didn’t say I regretted it.”

“And you didn’t say you
 
didn’t
 
regret making love, either. I understand your attitude now, but I don’t appreciate it any more than I did before. What we did, we did together, and you can’t deny it was something you wanted as much as I did.”

“I don’t regret making love with you,” he practically shouted, unable to understand how their conversation had become a full-blown argument. “And I sure as heck wanted it.”

She should be happy he wanted to marry her. Intimacy meant more to her than she was willing to admit, and he’d known that from the beginning. It was why he had tried to keep from acting on his desire, but he hadn’t been able to keep his libido in lockdown mode living with her twenty-four-seven.

“Tell me about the other men you’ve had sex with.”

“What?” She stared at him as if he’d grown two horns. “Why?”

“I want to know.”

She frowned and shifted on the couch so her legs were in front of her, her feet on the floor. “There were only two.”

“Who were they?”

“They were both boys I dated in high school when I was young and stupid enough to believe in love and happily-ever-after despite what I’d seen.”

“Did you love them?”

“I thought I did.”

“Who broke it off?”

“Me.”

“Why?”

She sighed. “What does it matter?”

“It just does,” he said, pretty sure he knew what she was going to say.

He’d known Claire for a couple of years now and had learned a lot more about her in that time than he was sure she realized. She was loyal to the point of fanaticism.

And she was ultra-committed in her friendships. Just look at the way she watched over Queenie, how hard Lester’s death had hit her, and her willingness to sacrifice her own comfort to make Josie happy by being in her wedding. Even though it had meant going to work on no sleep.

“I broke up with each boy when I realized he wasn’t as committed to the relationship as I was.”

“Not because the sex was bad?”

“Of course not.”

“I didn’t think so. You were expecting a long-term commitment and they refused to give it to you.”

“Yes, but that was a long time ago. I’ve grown up since then.”

He locked his jaw in frustration. Yeah, right. Growing up did not mean changing a person’s basic personality makeup. Her puritan soul should be rejoicing that he wanted to wrap their intimacy in the bonds of marriage, but she was fighting him with her typical intransigence. It made no sense to him.

Even if she didn’t love him, and he could see now that had been an arrogant assumption on his part, she
 
did
 
care and she
 
did
 
want him. Marriage meant she got him for a lifetime.

And he got her.

How was that a bad thing?

“So you’re saying that you like the idea of uncommitted sex with me?”

She smiled for the first time in several minutes. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. I realized when I woke up that for the first time in my life, I’m free. Really free. No major commitments, no one to take care of, no goals to live up to with backbreaking work. If I want to backpack across Europe or take a job working in another state, there’s nothing to stop me. I can go anywhere, be anything I want to be.”

“Not while someone is intent on either harming or nabbing you, you can’t.”

“That situation won’t last forever, and when it’s over, I—”

“Can go anywhere, do anything. Yeah, I heard it the first time,” he interrupted, his mood going sour with the speed of light. “And what about me?”

“Well, it’s pretty obvious you regretted intimacy, so maybe it’s best we don’t go there again.” At least she looked like the prospect of not making love again bothered her.

He had that much. “I don’t regret it.”

She snorted.

“I don’t.” His gut tightened with the desire to prove to her how much he didn’t regret it. “The only thing I’m sorry for is ruining our first time together by forgetting something so important.” He sighed, hoping she’d get it this time. “I screwed up and I won’t let you stand alone paying the price for my mistake.”

She jumped off the couch, her eyes snapping dark, furious fire. “I don’t know how you can begin to imagine I would want to marry a man who sees it as the only way to make up for the biggest mistake of his life.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Damn it, Claire. We don’t have a choice. It’s the only way to fix it.”

“Marriage is not a wrench to tighten a leaky pipe. It lasts a lifetime, Brett.”

“And you don’t think I’d make a good long-term risk?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It sure sounded like it, but maybe that’s not the problem. Maybe you don’t think I’d be a good father.”

For just a second, her eyes softened. “Of course you would be.”

“That’s all I’m asking for…the chance to be a father to our child in the fullest sense of the word. I can’t stand the thought of being a temporary or part-time fixture in my baby’s life.”

Her lower lip trembled, but she bit it. “You don’t even know if I’m pregnant.”

“My gut says you are.” And in this case, he did not mind listening.

“I don’t think you can trust your gut on this one.”

“Why not?”

She sighed. “You’re too far gone in guilt mode. In your mind a pregnancy is a foregone conclusion because you see yourself as having really messed up.”

“At least you admit it.”

“I admit nothing.” She looked ready to cry and he didn’t understand why. “I’m only pointing out that is how you feel.”

“Damn it, Claire—”

“Stop swearing at me. I don’t like it.”

“I apologize.”

“Fine.”

“Now, will you please start being reasonable?”

“It’s not reasonable for you to tell me we’re getting married because of the remote possibility I could be pregnant. It’s highly unlikely and if we don’t make love again, I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

“We are definitely making love again.”

“Now who is being unreasonable?”

“You think it’s unreasonable to face the truth? How do you imagine I ended up forgetting the condom? I want you so much and touching you is such a huge turn-on for me that I can’t even guarantee the
 
next
time we make love that I’ll remember. The only thing I can guarantee is that there will be a next time. In my mind, that is more than a decent basis for getting married.”

“If you married all the women you had sex with, you’d have had to move to a Muslim state where polygamy was legal a long time ago.”

“I only want to marry you.”

“But you
 
don’t
 
want to marry me. It’s just your guilt talking. Besides, what about your promise to Elena? If you break it, you’ll feel even guiltier.”

“I never promised not to get married.”

“Then what did you promise?”

“Never to love another woman like I loved her.”

“In other words, you want to marry me, but not only do you not love me now, you have no intention of ever loving me?” She made it sound like he was offering her a skunk’s entrails.

“We have passion, friendship, mutual respect. Those are good foundations for a marriage. And you just got through telling me how you don’t believe in love ever after anymore. That aspect shouldn’t bother you.”

“You’re right, it shouldn’t.” But it sure looked like it did. “Regardless, I’m not marrying you.” She said it quietly, with a conviction he refused to bow down to.

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