Jane didn’t have a chance to worry about Kurt’s response to her warning, didn’t even have time to question it, because once he unlatched her bra, and she let it fall to the floor with her sweater, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her even more deeply. Then, after a few kisses that grew deeper and deeper, everything started moving faster.
She’d planned to put on her teddy first thing, had imagined this evening going step by step—purposeful, if not downright mechanical. After all, she wouldn’t have to carry so much guilt about it if she didn’t feel anything when it happened. She was merely joining a sperm with an egg, no different than a doctor would do with artificial insemination. They were just saving a little money, trouble and time by doing it the old-fashioned way. If it ever came out that he was the father, she wanted to be able to claim—to herself and Kate and anyone else who asked—that the sex aspect, if they admitted to that, hadn’t meant anything.
But what came next was nothing like what she’d scripted in her mind. It was too spontaneous and got messy very quickly as they hurried to get their clothes off. The next few minutes were also filled with far more urgency and intensity than she’d anticipated. The best part—or worst part, depending on her perspective—was that it felt so natural.
She remembered climbing onto the bed as Kurt removed his pants, feeling the crisp white sheets beneath her back and the soft pillow give way before Kurt climbed on top of her and his chest came into contact with her breasts.
She could scarcely breathe as she looked up at him, knew she’d never forget the pirate’s smile he gave her. That expression, the victory and excitement it conveyed, as well as a measure of male pride, was oddly captivating. She told herself to close her eyes so she wouldn’t see it or him as they continued. Allowing herself to be swept away like this was probably the worst thing she could do.
But she couldn’t bring herself to break eye contact. She was mesmerized by the look on his face. She’d never seen him quite so focused, and that evoked a strong reaction because she could tell how much he wanted her.
He kissed her deeply again before running his lips over her jawline, up to her ear and then slowly down her throat, pulling her skin into his mouth and nipping at her as he went along. Her chest was rising and falling fast by the time he reached her breasts, and her nerves were so sensitive she jumped when he focused on her nipples. How she’d thought she could ever remain detached was a mystery.
She wanted more and more and more of him, but at the same time grew increasingly worried. When he pressed inside her, she nearly panicked and tried to push him off. What was she doing? Had she just opened Pandora’s box? Instead of remaining in tight control—instead of going about this in a measured, matter-of-fact, get-it-done sort of way—she was moaning and arching her back to encourage him, and the muscles of his arms and chest were bunching as he drove into her as if it was all he could do not to climax immediately.
“Jane, I don’t think—”
“What?” she gasped when he stopped speaking.
“I can’t hold off,” he said, and she felt his body jerk as he ejaculated inside her.
“That wasn’t how I imagined it going,” he mumbled with a laugh as he supported most of his weight on his elbows and caught his breath. “In my dreams, you came at the same time.”
“There’s no need to apologize.” Truth be told, she was relieved. The rushed, too-soon ending had reined in everything, made her feel as though she hadn’t gone too far, after all.
I can handle this, she reassured herself, feeling as though she was gaining a small amount of control.
But once they cleaned up so they could go out to dinner, he told her not to get dressed quite yet. He guided her to the bed and pressed her back onto it, then pushed away the towel she was wrapped in and began kissing his way up her thighs.
This had nothing to do with having a baby. Her brain ordered her body to stop him, and she promised herself she would in a second, but that slight procrastination changed everything. Her willpower dissolved almost immediately, and she clenched her hands in his hair.
“Kurt?” She was breathing so heavily she barely had the breath to call out his name.
His response was a mere grunt. “Hmm?”
She was planning to make one more concerted effort to stop. She needed to get her mind on something else. But then every muscle in her body went taut, and the pleasure she’d been denied a few minutes earlier began to radiate from deep inside her, and her only answer was a satisfied groan.
As they walked into the restaurant, Jane told herself she’d forget about that last part. She’d simply been too aroused to refuse—that was all. It was years since she’d been with a man, and a young, healthy woman would naturally crave the kind of completion Kurt had brought her.
“You okay?” Kurt asked after the hostess seated them in a corner booth at the restaurant where he’d made reservations.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Why?”
“Because you’ll look anywhere but at me,” he said. “Are you upset, freaked out, embarrassed?”
“All three,” she admitted. “I didn’t expect to...”
He leaned forward. “What?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious, maybe even slightly concerned.
“Get so carried away.”
His teeth appeared in a quick smile. “I, for one, enjoyed that aspect.”
“It was just unexpected that...that... Never mind,” she said. “I guess I’m still trying to process everything.”
The waitress approached with two waters.
“Now that it’s over and we can’t take it back, you don’t regret what we’ve done, do you?” he asked, after they’d accepted their glasses and the waitress had left.
“No, of course not,” she replied.
His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed. He was saying and doing all the right things, but something gave her the impression he might be a little overwhelmed himself. The possible consequences of what they were doing couldn’t be overstated. “So what do you think?” he asked. “Are you possibly expecting?”
“It’s not a high probability.”
His eyebrows slid up. “That was the first time I’ve ever had unprotected sex. I guess when you’re that careful, you feel one time is all it takes.”
“It’s more likely to happen if you don’t want it to,” she said jokingly. “Murphy’s Law, right?”
He nodded.
“Maybe I should’ve explained better from the beginning, but according to the statistics I’ve seen online, only about thirty percent of women who start trying to get pregnant do so in the first month.”
He managed to swallow the water in his mouth as he put down his glass, but she got the feeling he’d nearly spit it out. “Did you say month?”
“That surprises you?”
“Such a long time would have to take into account multiple attempts.”
When she’d solicited his help, it’d seemed that gaining his participation would be all it took. Although she’d done the research, she hadn’t been thinking beyond the first hurdle—getting him to say yes. But now she had to face the fact that accomplishing her goal might not be so easy. “That’s how I interpret the data, too. And the statistics probably include all age groups—from teenage girls on up.”
He seemed perplexed. “Meaning?”
“Since I’m on the, um, older side of the spectrum, it could take longer.” She looked away as she said this because she was still sensitive to the age gap between them. “From what I read, by thirty, fertility begins to decline, and the decline becomes more rapid as you reach your midthirties.”
“That’s just five years,” he scoffed.
“But an important five years when it comes to fertility.”
“You’re saying it might take several tries...beyond this weekend?”
“It could. Would that be a problem?” she asked and held her breath as she awaited his response.
He shifted in the booth. “Um...”
“We could set a time limit, so this doesn’t drag on forever,” she volunteered.
He rubbed his chin as if this was something he hadn’t fully considered. “I say we just...take it one day at a time.”
“Okay.” She picked up her menu and began skimming the selections, but it was more of an orchestrated effort to make what she had to say next sound casual. “If I do get pregnant, are you thinking you’d want to come forward as the father?”
He looked troubled as he considered his answer. “That depends.”
“On?”
“A lot of factors,” he said.
“You don’t want to talk about it right now?”
“No. I just want to enjoy dinner and the rest of the evening. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Jane would’ve liked an answer one way or the other. The next few weeks and months would be easier if she knew what she could count on where he was concerned—which way he wanted to go. But he was doing her a huge favor, so she figured she could have a little patience. “Okay. I’m open to...whatever you want.”
It was only fair that she let him make the decision. Giving her a child was no small thing. But every time she imagined how Kate or Talulah or Brant—especially Brant and the rest of Kurt’s family—would react to the news, she cringed.
If she could say she’d used a cryobank, the gossip and criticism would be bad but nothing like what she’d face if she had to admit that her baby would be related to the Elways.
Kurt had never flipped back and forth on a decision so many times in his life. He’d been convinced that sex would be the catalyst he needed to bring him and Jane together. But since they’d left the motel, her defenses had gone back up. He could tell that she was busy mentally walling him out even while they had dinner.
Maybe she wasn’t attracted to him. It had certainly seemed like she was when they were making love. Being with her had been as good as he’d hoped. She hadn’t been over-the-top wild or weird or anything like that—just excitable, fun, receptive and warm. The right amount of everything.
But she’d told him she hadn’t had sex in three years. Maybe that was the reason she’d enjoyed herself so much. It would certainly explain why it was so easy for her to turn off that level of engagement and go back to the way she’d been before—treating him like a casual friend.
Or maybe she was so set on being able to leave Coyote Canyon she simply refused to open up to him or anyone else who might get in the way.
Whatever the reason, he was pretty sure he’d just made a drastic mistake—another one, since he’d always had a habit of screwing up.
If he was lucky, what he’d done so far wouldn’t result in a baby. She’d just stated that chances were greater the weekend would end in a nonpregnancy. After feeling as though the last few hours hadn’t changed anything in their relationship, his heart would be a little worse for wear, but other than that—and a little wounded pride—he might be able to escape a very sticky situation if he didn’t make love to her again.
Except...how could he refuse? He’d said he’d help her conceive. He didn’t feel he could change his mind. He’d already reneged once.
With a sigh at his own hopeful stupidity, he read a text message Brant had just sent to their brothers’ chat group while he waited for Jane to get out of the bathroom so they could leave the restaurant.
Hey, Talulah has several slices of different cakes that are now two days old. You know what that means.
It meant she could no longer sell them, but they still tasted good, and the Elway boys were free to come eat what they wanted.
Only he couldn’t go to the diner, because he was almost two hours away, trying to get Talulah’s best friend pregnant.
He cringed. What he was doing sounded ridiculous to him now.
“All set,” Jane announced when he glanced up and saw her walking toward him.
He forced a smile. He supposed they were heading back to the motel. He couldn’t tell her he wanted to go home and eat cake. The job he’d agreed to do wasn’t done.
But...damn. If he didn’t even have a chance with her, what the hell was he doing?
He made love to Jane twice more, once when they got back to the motel and once in the morning before they packed up to head home. He enjoyed himself; he liked sex the way he liked her—too much. But having to do it for what he considered to be the wrong reason made those encounters far less than they could’ve been. What he really wanted was an emotional attachment, and he could already tell she wasn’t open to giving him that.
“You’re quiet,” Jane commented as he drove back to Coyote Canyon.
“Just...tired,” he lied. Actually, it wasn’t a complete lie. He’d been awake most of the night, lying on his side of the bed, feeling a strange sort of panic—like he wanted to run for the hills.
She looked over at him. He could feel her gaze, but he kept his eyes on the road. “Are you sure?” she asked.
He reached for his coffee in the cup holder. He’d gotten himself in deep on this one. He shouldn’t have agreed to help her in the first place. But even though he had agreed, he had the right to be honest, didn’t he?
He was just thinking about how to frame his response when she spoke again.
“Kurt? Are you upset?”
He almost came right out and told her he was having second thoughts, that he wouldn’t be able to continue. But he figured she was probably freaked out, too.
If he managed to escape this weekend without any consequences, he wouldn’t take the risk again. But there wasn’t any need to upset her by saying that right now when it was possible that she was already pregnant. Why make her feel he resented his contribution?
Even if she wasn’t pregnant, she was dealing with a lot. He knew she’d deny it, but he felt she wouldn’t be trying to have a baby on her own if not for her grandfather. If she felt free to leave town, go out and live her life and make the most of it, she wouldn’t need to change it up so drastically any way she could.
“I’m not upset,” he reassured her.
“You seem remote.”
“Like I said, I’m just tired.”
“I’m afraid I got you into something you wish you hadn’t done.”
“That’s not true,” he lied again. “Everything is fine.” He managed a smile for her sake, then turned up the radio so he wouldn’t have to continue to fend off allegations that were all too accurate.
“If last night didn’t work, I can go to a sperm bank in the future,” she said.
“Let’s not make any decisions right now. Let’s just wait and see.”
“Okay,” she said. “But just to clarify—at the moment we aren’t saying anything about this to anyone, right?”
This time, he made eye contact, because he definitely didn’t want her to misunderstand his level of conviction on this point. “That’s absolutely correct. We aren’t telling anyone.”
“Even Brant?”
He’d already said more than he should to Brant. Kurt didn’t want him knowing any more. “Even Brant. Or Talulah.”
“Got it.”
“Great,” he said. Because, with any luck, he’d still be able to get himself out of the messy situation he’d just gotten himself into...
Averil sat in the middle of the kitchen floor—she’d been putting pans and lids in the drawer beneath the stove in the kitchen of her new place—and paused to read Jordan’s latest text. She’d been having a great weekend looking for secondhand furniture in the immediate area to fill in for what she wasn’t able to bum off her siblings and had found a cute coffee table and an orange ultramodern couch that looked like something Jane would like. She was excited to show her friend and get it moved into the apartment, so she kept checking the time, but the store didn’t open until noon on Sundays, and Jane wasn’t there yet.
Because no one else was in the building, Averil could have the volume of her music much higher than usual, and she was taking advantage of that. It was so loud she’d been afraid she wouldn’t hear her phone if it went off, and because she wanted to be available in case Chase or Mitch tried to reach her, she’d set it to vibrate before sliding it into the pocket of her most comfortable jeans.
Why aren’t you responding to me? Are you mad? Jordan had written.
That wasn’t the case at all. She was just finally feeling strong enough to stay away from someone she knew wasn’t right for her. Jordan wasn’t out to make her happy; he cared only about his own happiness. That meant he wouldn’t be a good stepdad for Mitch. Although he’d met Mitch once, he never even mentioned her son, never asked about him or showed interest, never tried to include him. Averil knew they were only hanging out because they had no one else. But spending so much time together could be dangerous, especially since they’d started having sex several months ago. A lot of people in that situation wound up married for entirely the wrong reasons—and it often didn’t end well.
I’ve been busy. Sorry.
Want to come to Libby tonight? Go out to dinner?
He usually convinced her to make the long drive so he wouldn’t have to. He used the fact that he didn’t want to come to Coyote Canyon and possibly run into Ellen as an excuse, and it was a testament to how lonely and bored Averil had gotten that she’d been willing to go along with that. Averil knew Jordan had said and done some things he shouldn’t have, and Ellen didn’t like him because of it. Averil pretended Ellen didn’t have a good reason, but she knew that although Ellen could be prickly and defensive, she was inherently honest. And if Jordan hadn’t constantly been chirping in Averil’s ear, stirring up her own anger and jealousy, she probably wouldn’t have acted as badly as she’d acted.
She had to take responsibility for her own mistakes, of course, had to acknowledge that she wasn’t innocent. He wasn’t the kind of man she wanted to be with. Even her parents told her to stay away from him. They didn’t like him because he came across as arrogant and showed zero interest in them or Mitch.
Averil would snap back that Dinah was just angry Jordan wouldn’t come to dinner and that he couldn’t be available to entertain them because he was busy running a dental practice out of town. She insisted that was no reason to dislike him. But she knew in her heart that her mother was right. He’d make time if he really wanted to.
She probably should’ve ignored this text, too. But she was so relieved that she was starting to care less than she had in the past. It was a welcome change to have a little power in the relationship.
Sorry. I can’t.
Why not?
I’m moving into my apartment.
You got your own apartment?
She smiled proudly.
Yep. I’m unpacking some things right now.
Sometimes she got the impression he thought he was better than she was, because he had an education and “Dr.” before his name, and she hadn’t finished even one full year of college.
That’s awesome. Privacy at last. Want me to come see the new place?
She thought of the weekend she’d just spent. She’d enjoyed shopping for the apartment, which was the best thing to happen to her in a long while—but it was sad that she didn’t have anyone to share her excitement with. On both Friday and Saturday nights, she’d gone home and been in bed before ten.
She felt so left out of the social scene in Coyote Canyon—like she was getting old before her time.
When I get settled, she wrote back.
Why not tonight?
He was willing to make the drive? That was a switch. He must be eager for another booty call, she thought wryly. She’d justified what had been going on because he usually took her out before they went back to his place. That was more than some guys did. But over time, their relationship had changed into something she didn’t feel good about. She no longer had any hope that they’d fall in love. It felt more like Jordan was using her until he could find someone he considered “better,” and that chipped away at her self-esteem and had ever since she’d met him.
Still, she could always stop seeing him next weekend. This weekend, Mitch was with his father, and she wanted to feel as though she had something going on in her social life.
She was also excited to be able to show off her new apartment. Maybe she’d finally get to feel good about herself, as though he wasn’t the only one who had his life together.