CHAPTER FOUR

A little over twenty-four hours later, Reyna locked her door and set off toward Brady’s house on foot. It was about a mile, but it wasn’t too cold and she could use the walking time to clear her head. Or try to. She felt as if she hadn’t had a truly clear head since the idea of asking Brady to father her child had first popped into her mind.

On some level she’d known Brady wasn’t the kind of guy to just father a child and then walk away, even if it was something he’d agreed to up front. Unless one of them moved, they would always cross paths and he wouldn’t be able to ignore his own kid. She appreciated that he’d been honest about his unwillingness to be hands-off yesterday.

And when he’d talked about wanting a son or daughter close to Benny’s age, something had clicked inside her. Cousins. When she’d thought about being a mom, she’d pictured her and a baby. And her mother, of course.

She hadn’t imagined Brady actually in the picture with them.

But this way the baby would also have his or her father. And cousins, an aunt and uncle, and another grandmother. And as far as Reyna was concerned, the more people who loved her baby, the better.

When she reached his street, she realized there was an added bonus to walking because her car wouldn’t be seen sitting in Brady’s driveway. If all went well, it wouldn’t matter if the gossips talked about her visiting him at home. But if tonight ended in disappointment, she didn’t want that added sprinkle of salt in the wound. They were probably still talking about her turning down Lucas’s marriage proposal, so until there was good news for them to spread around, she’d rather give them nothing at all.

Once she reached Brady’s house, she stood on the sidewalk with her hands shoved deep into her coat pockets.

When she’d talked herself into believing Brady Nash was the perfect man to father her child, she hadn’t stopped to consider where he lived. He’d bought the place about six months after their disastrous interlude, which had taken place in the apartment he’d been renting over the credit union.

The two-story brick Colonial looked like a freaking postcard with an electric candle glowing in each window and the light dusting of the season’s first snow blanketing the roof. Because it was situated on a quiet back road she and her mother used as a shortcut when they walked to the lakefront park, she knew that the large front and backyards were bordered by colorful perennial garden beds in the summer.

It was a perfect home for a family. Too bad they weren’t actually going to be one.

The door opened, and the light inside the house silhouetted him in the doorway. “You trying to decide whether you’re coming in or turning around and going home?”

She didn’t want him to think she had any doubts about what she was asking him to do, so she shrugged and started up the walk toward him. “I was admiring the electric candles in the window. Trying to get a jump start on decorating?”

He laughed and stepped back to welcome her into the foyer. “I leave those up year-round because I like the way they look. But I might have already put in my wreath order with the ag class at the high school.”

“I’ve seen it with the wreaths and all the lights. When it’s done up for Christmas, it’s one of the prettiest houses in Blackberry Bay.”

“Thanks.” He closed the door and took her coat. “Still working on the final touches inside. The previous owners struggled with the upkeep and focused most of their time and money on the exterior.”

Reyna watched him hanging her coat in the closet, trying not to notice the way faded jeans and an old blue Henley shirt hugged his body, and failing miserably. She’d always found him physically attractive, which was why she’d been all the more disappointed the night she’d given in to his charm, despite knowing he wasn’t the kind of guy who stuck around.

“I’m almost done with the remodeling, though,” he continued as he closed the closet door.

“Did you do it yourself?” The interior was very simple in an elegant way, with warm cream walls and what looked like original woodwork, but meticulously refinished. The floors were hardwood, but she didn’t think they were original. The new boards were a good match for the trim, though.

“Most of it. After work if I had nothing going on and a lot of weekends. A lot of my weekends.” He chuckled as he led her down the hall into the kitchen. “I tried to stay true to the original design, but I did knock out a wall to open up the kitchen and dining area.”

“It’s beautiful.” Remodeling this house while running his own electrical business must not have left him a lot of free time. “Now that you’re almost done with the house, you decided to restore an old car?”

His laugh echoed because the house might be beautiful, but it had the bare minimum of furniture. “My mom always seems to have a project going, so I must have inherited that from her.”

“Dinner smells amazing, by the way.” There was a large island in the kitchen, with a smooth gray top, and she took a seat on one of the four stools set around it.

“I made a lasagna because, of course, I’d accidentally choose to make a dish with a red sauce on a night you’re wearing a cream sweater. I’ve had it on warm for a while, so it should be ready to eat as soon as the bread’s heated.”

She appreciated his easy humor as he moved around the kitchen, but all she could think about now that she was here was the conversation that lay ahead of them. It wasn’t clear to her if they were going to talk about her proposition before they ate or after, and she was too nervous to bring it up herself. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to enjoy the lasagna with the knot in her stomach, though, so maybe she should work up the courage to broach the subject.

After he’d taken the lasagna out and set it on top of the stove, he popped a foil-wrapped loaf in the oven and then turned to the island. He fiddled with the jar of garlic powder for a few seconds before rubbing his hands together while inhaling deeply through his nose. At least he was as nervous as she was.

“So,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I think you and I would make a great kid together.”

“I can’t really tell if there’s a but coming or not.” She smiled, keeping her hands clenched in her lap so she wouldn’t be tempted to fiddle like he had been. And maybe to hide the fact her hands were shaking. Maybe even her entire body, actually, though she hoped he couldn’t see it.

Were they having a baby together or not?

* * *

Having Reyna sitting in his kitchen, looking gorgeous with her red hair spilling loose over her cream sweater, was something Brady had allowed himself to imagine a time or two while remodeling the room. It was a house made for a family, and it was hard to picture a woman in the house without seeing Reyna’s face.

“There’s definitely no but when it comes to knowing you and I would make a great kid,” he said. “But… I do have a question.”

She chuckled. “Just one?”

“No, I probably have a lot of questions, but most of them are the typical questions two parents who are splitting up would have to answer. There’s one big one that’s unique to our situation that stuck in my head last night, and that is how long you see us trying.”

“How long…” He watched the real question he was asking sink in and realized she didn’t have an answer. “Oh.”

Underneath his very real desire to have a child, there was another layer for Brady. He wanted redemption. He wanted to take this woman to his bed and show her that he did care about her and her satisfaction. Would it be easy? No, because he still wanted her as badly as he had that awful night, and for years before that. But he’d do algebra equations or run through box scores in his head, or whatever he had to do to make sure she left his bed with a smile on her face.

But he also knew it wouldn’t be healthy for him to let it go on too long. This arrangement called for him to walk away from Reyna at some point, and the longer they pretended to be a couple—and the longer she was in his bed—the harder it was going to be.

“Obviously we’re talking months here,” he said. “The pretending to date part. The actual conception, which isn’t even in our control. And then the continuing to date until we go our separate ways. That all adds up, but there has to come a point when we’ve tried, but maybe it wasn’t meant to be. I just need to know if you have an expectation of how long we’ll try.”

“Maybe we try for three months? I know it might not happen because a lot of people try longer than that, but you can’t put your life on hold forever. Even if we only try for three months, that’s at least six months you’ll be wrapped up in this.” She frowned, catching her bottom lip between her teeth for a second. “That sounds like a long time.”

“Not in the grand scheme of things,” he replied, trying to put her mind at ease. “Six months from now, we’ll probably be doing the same stuff in life we are now, except in shorts and T-shirts. Except, maybe this time when six months from now rolls around, we’ll be expecting a baby.”

Her face practically glowed when he said that, and the warmth in her eyes melted him inside. “So you want to do this?”

He nodded. “I want to do this.”

Her entire body shuddered as tears filled her eyes, and she laughed as she swiped at them. “Sorry. I’m just… I’ve wanted to be a mom for a long time and just to actually have a chance means a lot to me.”

“Me, too.” He wasn’t sure what to do next, so he went to the oven and pulled out the wrapped loaf of garlic bread. “Now we can eat and we’ll figure out the rest as we go, I guess.”

They managed small talk while he cut and served the lasagna, and some of the tension had eased out of his body by the time they were sitting across from each other at his small dining room table. But when she slid the first bite of lasagna between her lips and made a low sound of appreciation that was almost a moan, his muscles began tightening again.

He was going to make love to this woman. At her request. It was like a very early Christmas present—though he wasn’t sure if wanting a second chance to take a woman to bed meant he’d been very good or very naughty—and this time he was going to take his time enjoying her, and he would do anything she asked of him.

“You made this yourself?” she asked, one eyebrow raised as she gave him a challenging look across the table.

“I’m a man with many skills,” he replied, but he regretted the quip when her mouth twitched from her effort not to show how amused she was by that statement.

Reyna had cause to doubt his skills in the bedroom, but that was going to change soon. He’d make sure of it. The next time she made that sound of pleasure, he wanted it to be in his bed.

When they’d had their fill of lasagna and garlic bread, Reyna insisted on helping him clean up. He would have left it to deal with later, but there was something calming about performing a simple domestic chore with her at his side. Their relationship had been something of a roller coaster—from good friends to a night of bad sex to several years of avoiding each other to deciding to have a baby—and the quiet task made him feel as if his feet were firmly under him.

Then she reached for a plate at the same time he did and her hand landed on his. They both froze and, just like that, he was on the roller coaster again. He expected her to pull away, but she didn’t move. Instead, they both looked at their hands, resting on the edge of the plate.

“Is this weird?” she whispered.

“I think it’s a little bit weird.” He rested his other hand at the small of her back and turned his body to face her slightly. “The question is, do we care?”

“That it’s weird?” She tilted her head, smiling at him. “No, I guess I don’t care.”

“We’re adults and we can do whatever makes us happy.” Kissing her would make him happy right about now, but he didn’t want to push her. He wanted her to be the one to initiate the intimacy their arrangement was going to require because it was the only way he could be sure she was totally comfortable with it.

He didn’t want to initiate the kiss, but he also didn’t want to move away, so he decided to talk instead. “We’ll have to, like, track when it’s most likely to happen and all that, right?”

“I have been, for a while. Since before I started seeing Lucas, actually, because I knew at some point, having a baby alone might be my best option. Of course, I didn’t know then how much it costs.” Pink colored her cheeks as she chuckled. “I just got in the habit of keeping everything in a journal and, ironically, my most fertile time should be right now. The next couple of nights are the best time, so we’ll just have to figure out when we want to start and count from there.”

Brady’s train of thought came to such an abrupt stop, he was surprised he didn’t hear the squeal of the brakes in his head.

The next couple of nights are the best time.

Their gazes locked and he gave her a slow smile. “There’s no time like the present, right?”

* * *

Reyna’s breath caught as Brady’s lips curved into a naughty grin, and she couldn’t seem to make herself stop staring at his mouth.

There’s no time like the present, right?

Why was she tingling in all the best places? Her head knew not to get her hopes up because they’d been there, done that, and it hadn’t been all that. But her body seemed to have forgotten that she’d surrendered to the promise in those blue eyes before and been disappointed.

But she was keenly aware of the warmth and weight of his hand on her back, and all she had to do was lean in and kiss him.

And she should. Wasn’t that the point? They were going to have to get naked in order to make a baby, so this jolt of desire currently scrambling her thoughts was actually a good thing.

“That must be quite an argument you’re having with yourself,” he said in a low voice that made her shiver, and then his hand fell away.

She took a step back, trying to get a hold of herself. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she wasn’t into him. The fact they’d been avoiding each other for several years was proof enough that he was as aware as she was that the sex hadn’t been good between them.

“I just…” She just what? She couldn’t tell him she was struggling with how much she wanted him to kiss her. That didn’t even make sense. “Getting pregnant means unprotected sex and there are other ramifications of that.”

“Oh,” he said when he got what she was trying to say. “I get tested for everything when I get my yearly physical and I haven’t been with anybody since my last one, which I passed with flying colors. I can probably find the results recap if I go rummage around in my filing cabinet.”

“I believe you.” Brady would never lie to her about something that important. She wouldn’t be having this conversation with him at all if she thought he was capable of that. “I don’t know if I have results on paper lying around because, unless they’re work orders, I’m bad with paper. I write on the back or throw them out or spill coffee on them, but I’m the same.”

“And I believe you. No need to dig through stacks of crumpled, coffee-stained papers.”

When he put his hands on her waist, sliding them just under the hem of her sweater so his thumbs brushed her bare skin, she sucked in a breath.

“I guess the only thing now,” he said in a husky voice that made her shiver, “is making sure you absolutely want to do this.”

“I absolutely do.”

“I’m not taking about having a baby.” He kissed the side of her neck. “I’m talking about you and me making a baby.”

She knew what he was doing. He was testing her—being just forward enough to make her uncomfortable if she wasn’t ready for the next step. And maybe testing his comfort level, too, although he didn’t seem very shy about sliding his hands down to cup the curve of her bottom.

“I know what you’re talking about,” she said, sliding her hands up his back and pulling him even closer. “And I absolutely want to do this.”

“Let me know if you change your mind at any point,” he told her right before he backed her up against the island and kissed her so fiercely her fingers clenched the fabric of his shirt and balled it in her fists.

As his mouth claimed hers, his hands slid under her sweater again, and she savored the feeling of his work-hardened skin against the soft flesh of her back.

She tried to dampen the hot, aching need building inside of her. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt Brady’s hands on her, and she’d left still aching that night. But when his fingertips skimmed over her ribs, she couldn’t hold back a small moan against his lips.

“Should we take this upstairs?” he whispered against her mouth, and she reluctantly broke off the kiss only because there was the promise of something better.

“Definitely,” she said, and he took her hand to lead her up the stairs.

She had a glimpse of the same simple color scheme and sparse furnishings on the way to his bed, but she cared less about the decor and more about the fact they started shedding clothing as soon as they crossed the threshold from the hall.

Unlike their first time together, though, there was no rushed fumbling. He kissed her between every item of clothing they removed, his hands exploring each new inch of revealed skin.

When she was naked, he stretched her out on the bed and kissed every part of her body. He talked to her, too, telling her how sexy she was and how hot she made him. She ran her hands over his shoulders, her short nails digging into his muscles as he licked his way down her stomach, and then she tangled her fingers in his hair when he reached her thighs.

It wasn’t until she stopped shaking from her first orgasm that he kissed his way back up her body, stopping to lavish attention on her breasts while she scraped her fingernails up his back to encourage him to keep moving.

His grin when he looked down at her was wicked and maybe even a little smug as he settled between her thighs. And then he was inside her, moving with slow and measured strokes, and she sighed at the sensation.

His hand cupped her face and he stared into her eyes. Beneath the sizzle was a tenderness that took her breath away. He stroked her cheek with his thumb, all the while moving deep within her, and then lowered his mouth to kiss her.

She moaned against his mouth as he thrust deeper into her, and the strokes quickened in response. When she buried her hand in his hair and whispered his name, he groaned and bit gently at her bottom lip.

When he reached down and stroked her with his thumb, it was too much and she cried out when the orgasm hit. She dug her fingers into his upper arms as her back arched off the bed, and he groaned as her body clenched around him.

He quickened his pace, thrusting deeper and faster until his orgasm shook him. And then he gently lowered himself on top of her, kissing first her mouth, and then her breast and finally her neck as he settled onto her body.

She ran her hands over the slick muscles of his back, trying to catch her breath and enjoying the feel of his heart beating against her chest.

They lay like that for a few minutes, until he kissed her neck again and carefully rolled off of her. But he didn’t roll away. He rested one arm across her, his fingers toying with her hair, and captured one of her legs under his.

Reyna was more than content beside him, until she felt sleep creeping up on her. And she could tell by the way Brady’s breathing slowed and grew more even that he wasn’t far from it.

“I should go,” she whispered.

“Are you done already?” he whispered back.

She laughed, slapping his arm. “Are you done?”

He was not done, and he spent the next twenty minutes or so proving it to her. It wasn’t until she was draped over the bed, totally out of breath and with muscles that felt liquid, that he allowed himself a second orgasm, and he gave a ragged chuckle as he collapsed next to her.

“Okay, now I’m done.”

She came even closer to falling asleep that time, not only because her body was in a state of blissful exhaustion, but because it was probably past her bedtime.

“Now I really have to go,” she murmured, nudging him because it sounded like he was starting to fall asleep.

“Just stay. We don’t even have to turn around and put our heads on the pillow. We can just stay like this.”

“I can’t stay here all night. And you don’t have to move because walking home is no big deal.”

“First, there’s no way you’re walking home alone at this time of night, no matter how small this town is. If you want to go home, I’ll drive you. But secondly, why can’t you stay the night? I get up early, so I can get you home in time to get ready for work.”

She didn’t know how to explain that sleeping and waking up with him seemed too intimate, considering what they’d just done, and that maybe that was a boundary line for this relationship. And the silence was starting to feel loud in the room.

“Hey.” He kissed her shoulder before he sat up. “I’ll drive you home. And don’t tell me again how you can just walk. That’s not happening.”

She slid out of bed and started pulling on her clothes, while he did the same. “Are you trying to be the boss of me, Brady Nash?”

“Never.” He chuckled. “Okay, so you can walk home. But I’m going to follow you in my truck the entire way and we’ll just look ridiculous.”

She let him drive her home, and she tried not to dwell on how sweet it was that he sat in his idling truck until she was upstairs and had closed her door behind her. The fact he was not bad in bed was enough to process. She didn’t need him turning on the charm, too.