The Right Reason To Marry. Christine Rimmer

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The Right Reason To Marry - Christine  Rimmer

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bit tempted?

      Of course. She was a heterosexual single mom. What was not to adore about Liam Bravo? The guy was practically perfect—at least right now, as he stared down at his newborn son after the excitement and drama of birth. Blinded by the wonder of new life and eager to do right by his child and his child’s mother, marriage would naturally seem like the only choice to him.

      The resentment, the growing certainty that she’d trapped him, the longing to be free of her—all that would come later.

      Except it wouldn’t. Because she wasn’t going to marry him. No way. “Liam, we’ve been over this.”

      He shook his golden head. “We haven’t. The other day, you said no before I even got the question out.”

      “I’m sorry I didn’t hear you out, but my answer wouldn’t have changed no matter what you said or how convincing you were or how patiently I waited for you to finish saying it. I’m not getting married just because we have a baby together. I need you to believe me when I tell you that.”

      “Listen.” He straightened and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Don’t give me an answer right now. Take your time. Think about it.”

      “Liam, I’ve already—”

      “Think about it.” A thread of steel had crept into his tone.

      She had no need to think about it. Zero. Zip. Nada. She’d already given him her answer. Twice now. But he wasn’t listening and an argument right now wasn’t going to be good for her, for him or, most important, for their baby, who’d just been ejected from the warm, quiet safety of her womb. “All right. We’ll talk about it later. If you need to. But my answer won’t change.”

      “Just tell me you’ll think about it.”

      She gave him a nod, though she really shouldn’t have. He might construe any positive gesture as encouragement. But right now, she would do just about anything to stop this pointless marriage talk.

      “Thank you.” Liam bent close again. He brushed her forehead with his big, warm hand and placed a sweet, light kiss where his palm had been. “Thank you for my son and for promising to keep an open mind about marriage.”

      An open mind? Uh-uh. Her mind was locked down and dead bolted on that subject.

      But for right now, he could go ahead and refuse to accept what she’d told him twice. Eventually he’d get the message. She even dared to hope the day would come when he would be grateful to her for not taking advantage of him at this emotional time.

      As for the touch of his lips on her skin, she shouldn’t have liked that so much, shouldn’t have let herself sigh just a little when he bent near.

      Really, she shouldn’t even have allowed that kiss, should have turned her head away when his fine lips descended. He was a wonderful guy and she needed to begin developing a strong coparenting relationship with him—one that wouldn’t include kisses, not even on the forehead.

      Today, though, was a special circumstance. She’d just given birth to his baby. Surely, this once, a kiss on the forehead couldn’t hurt...

      Per hospital policy, Karin stayed the night at Memorial. Her girlfriends left after she was all settled in a regular room in the postpartum unit.

      Liam stayed on. Karin suggested more than once that he ought to go home, get some dinner and a good night’s rest. He said he wasn’t tired.

      A nurse came in with the birth certificate forms. They hadn’t chosen a name yet, so the nurse helped them fill out everything else and told them where to send the form when the name had been decided. The space for the baby’s last name didn’t go empty. Liam wrote “Bravo” in there and Karin didn’t object. No, she wasn’t going to marry the guy, but she was determined to be respectful of his place in their baby’s life.

      The nurse left and finally, at a little before seven, Liam went off to get something to eat in the cafeteria.

      Not five minutes after he went out the door, her dad and the kids arrived to meet the new baby. Apparently, Otto had spoken to them about how to behave in the hospital. Coco was as enthusiastic as ever, but she kept her voice down and sat with her little hands folded in her lap, a wild-haired, blue-eyed, second-grade angel. Ben was just Ben—curious and serious, even more polite than usual.

      They each held the baby and seemed to enjoy that.

      “He’s kind of red,” remarked Ben. He looked up. “But that’s normal. I read that newborns have thin skin and the red blood vessels can show through.”

      When Coco’s turn to hold her baby brother came, Ben leaned close and gently touched his head. “Soft spots,” he declared with a solemn little nod. “They are called fontanels and there is one in front and one in back of the skull so that the baby’s head can be flexible when he’s coming through the birth canal and also so that the brain can grow quickly, now that he’s born.”

      “He is so cute,” Coco said in a carefully controlled whisper. “But his nose is kind of squished.”

      Ben loftily explained that a flattened nose also tended to happen during birth. “It’s a tight squeeze,” he said to his sister. “But his nose will assume its normal shape over time.”

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