Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Renn.”
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I know this sounds crazy, and hot, but—”
“Renn. Stop.” I gulp as fire streaks through my veins. “You just asked me to … My God.”
“Will you just think about it?”
My mouth hangs open. “No, I won’t just think about it. I’m not having a baby with you!”
“Why?”
The question is a full-on sentence, a challenge for me to explain why having a baby with my brother’s best friend is a terrible idea. While I know that’s true and that there are a million reasons for it, the only thing I can focus on is the heat in his eyes … and the heat building in my core.
“This is the perfect answer,” he says. “You’ll realize it if you think about it.”
“This is … ridiculous! That’s what this is.”
“Ridiculous? I’m asking for a ninety-day commitment and I’m offering you eighteen years. I think it sounds pretty damn generous.”
I roll my eyes. “You’ve lost your mind.”
“Do you not want a baby?”
“Yes.”
“I can give you that. I’ll pay child support. You’ll have a whole family waiting to embrace you and the baby. Hell, I’ll play by your rules. I’ll sign a contract—whatever you want. It wouldn’t want for a thing.”
Except the love of a father. “I can’t believe we’re discussing this right now. Yesterday, I was in a bikini in Vegas wanting to see a male strip show and today I’m married and discussing having your baby.”
“So you’re considering it?”
“No.”
He smirks. “You have to admit, our baby would hit the genetic lottery.”
I lean forward to smack him, but he catches my hand in the air. The feeling of his fingers wrapped around my wrist is electric. He releases me slowly, one digit at a time.
Once I’m free, I fall back onto the sofa cushions and drag in a shaky breath.
“To be perfectly honest with you, I want a kid too,” he says, flexing his fingers as if they’re buzzing from the contact like mine. “But I’ve never met someone I’d trust enough to have a child with … until now.”
“You’re just saying that to get what you want.”
“If you know me as well as you say you do, then you know the one thing I won’t do is lie.”
As much as I don’t want to admit it, he’s right. Renn Brewer isn’t a liar. That’s what gets him in trouble most of the time—his failure to pass the blame. Sure, he might skirt it and try to minimize the damage. But he never lies.
“Somehow, you just complicated the hell out of an already overcomplicated situation,” I say.
“Mr. Brewer,” Kimbra says. “May I please see you for a moment?”
He turns to me. I motion for him to go, thankful for the interruption.
“In exchange for you not ending it, I’ll give you a baby.”
I hold my forehead. What the hell is happening? I chuckle quietly, in disbelief with myself. Could I still be drunk?
Although I want a baby with a man I love, I’m not sure I’ll ever find him. People are weird. They have secrets. Having a child with someone means you’re bonded with them in one way or another for the rest of your life—or not. But which is worse? Falling out of love with someone or having your child’s father not being in their life?
Renn’s voice drifts through the room and a warmth flows over me.
He has his flaws, sure, but he is a good person. I trust him—mostly. If he says he’ll play by my rules and sign a contract, I believe him. And he seems to have a strong family. Besides his father. Fuck that guy.
I was considering a sperm bank. Would having a child with Renn be that much worse? At least I know him, and he could be a part of our child’s life, maybe. Our child could have more than just me and Brock … Am I really considering this?
If he could stay out of the spotlight and not make a mockery of me—which, as Renn suggests, would be counterintuitive to this whole process—maybe this could work. It’s only a ninety-day investment, after all. Right?
Why does this kind of make sense?
“At least you look less shocked now,” he says, sitting again.
Less shocked? How am I looking less shocked? This is the most bizarre day I’ve ever had.
I shift in my seat. “If I agreed, and I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this—what is wrong with me?—I’m on birth control. I don’t know if I can get pregnant in ninety days.”
“If not, I’ll give you my DNA in a little cup or however they do it.”
“You realize you’re talking about a child like a business transaction, right?”
“Is it that much worse that getting pregnant accidentally with some guy you don’t even know? You know me. Hell, we’re married.” He bites back a laugh. “Look, you want a child, and I’m more than willing to give you one. I’ll take care of it. I’ll be a part of its life. I’m kind of excited about it. I get a kid, and I don’t have to deal with a woman I don’t like. And it’ll even be conceived during our marriage, Blakely. I don’t see why this is a terrible plan.”