find a solution that would work for all of them. “We could get married.”
Tess stared at him, clearly stunned by his suggestion.
Okay, he was a little surprised, too. He didn’t know where those words had come from, had no clue that such an idea would pop out of his mouth. But now that it had, he realized it was, in some ways, a logical response to the situation. A baby deserved to be loved and cared for by both parents, and marrying Tess would ensure that they’d both be involved in their child’s life.
Since his close call with Lana, the mere thought of committing himself to any one woman for the rest of his life was enough to make him break out in hives. Yet here he was not just thinking it but saying it. Out loud.
He tugged at his tie, swallowed.
Tess seemed to recover from her shock first, because she laughed.
He frowned.
“I’m almost tempted to say ‘yes’,” she told him. “Just to see if your face could possibly get any whiter.”
“Instinctive reaction to the M-word,” he admitted.
She smiled gently. “I know.”
“That’s no reason to laugh off the suggestion.” And now that he’d spoken the word out loud—without choking on it—he found the idea taking root in his mind.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“We’re going to have a baby. Why shouldn’t we get married?”
“Is that a question or a proposal?” she asked. “Because if it’s a question, I can give you a thousand reasons why we shouldn’t get married. And if it’s a proposal, the answer’s no.”
“A thousand reasons?” he challenged, both relieved and annoyed by her automatic refusal.
“Starting with the fact that you don’t want to get married,” she reminded him.
She was right. He could hardly deny it now when he’d told her exactly that when he’d broken up with Lana and repeated it numerous times since then.
The truth was, he loved women—blondes, brunettes, redheads. He loved the way they looked and the way they moved, their scents and their softness. He loved everything about them, but he’d never fallen in love with any of them.
Tess believed the scars from his mother’s abandonment prevented him from opening his heart, and maybe there was something to that. When Charlene Richmond walked out of her husband’s home she’d abandoned not just her marriage but her children. One day she was there and the next she was gone, and he’d been devastated.
She came back a few months later, claiming to want the sons she’d left behind, but Craig had already learned not to trust too easily or love too deeply.
“Maybe I’ve changed my mind about marriage,” he said to Tess now.
She shook her head. “I need you to be my friend more than I need a husband, Craig.”
“I am your friend.” He took her hands in his, linked their fingers together. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be more.”
“Anything more will only complicate the situation.”
“It seems to me the situation is already complicated.”
She unlaced their hands and stepped away from him.
“You could at least give it some consideration,” he said.
“No,” she said again.
“You’re being unreasonable, Tess.”
She didn’t think so. Unreasonable had been going home with Craig, kissing him, touching him, falling into bed with him. Now she was facing the consequences of those impulsive actions and she was determined to do so rationally and reasonably. She’d expected that he, of all people, would appreciate a logical approach to the situation. “I don’t expect anything from you, Craig.”
“Why the hell not?” he demanded.
She blinked at the anger in his tone. “Because…I’m not going to hold you responsible for something that was my fault.”
“Do I have to remind you again that we made this baby together?”
“You know what I mean,” she said, ignoring the heat that infused her cheeks. She certainly didn’t need him to remind her of the night they’d made love—the night their baby had been conceived.
“No, I don’t.”
She sighed. “We both know that what happened that night only happened because you were feeling sorry for me.”
He placed a finger under her chin, forced her to look at him. “Do you actually believe that?”
Uh-oh. This was dangerous. The simple touch set every nerve ending in her body on full alert and the way he was looking at her now had her hormones rocketing.
She’d often thought a woman would have to be blind not to notice his obvious good looks, and Tess’s almost perfect vision allowed her to fully appreciate the sun- kissed golden highlights in his dark blond hair, the deep brown eyes fringed with gloriously long lashes, the wide, full mouth that quirked easily into a grin, and the strong, square chin that held just the hint of a dimple. Then there was the body: six feet four inches of lean, solid and dangerously sexy male.
She’d known Craig since she was in junior high— he’d been in high school, an assistant coach of her baseball team and a basketball player himself. His wiry body had filled out since then. His shoulders were broader now, his muscles firmer.
But Craig Richmond was a lot more than a terrific face and gorgeous body. There was an aura about him, a confidence bordering on arrogance and the sheer force of his personality drew her even as her common sense warned her to stay far away. And now, just the touch of his hand on her chin was enough to send her pulse racing.
She knew he was waiting for an answer, but she couldn’t even remember the question. God help her, he’d simply touched her and her mind had gone blank.
“Do you really think I made love to you out of pity?” he asked.
She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “Didn’t you?”
He smiled, a slow, sexy curving of his lips that caused her heart to trip over itself. “No.”
The single word skimmed over her like a caress— teasing, tempting. She forced herself to pull away from him. She couldn’t afford to let her hormones overrule her common sense, not again.
“We made love that night because it was what we both wanted,” he reminded her.
She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the all too vivid memories. She didn’t want to remember how incredible it had been, the way she’d responded to Craig’s kisses, his touch. The way their bodies had come together, naturally, instinctively, as if they’d been made for each other. Even as she’d moved beneath him, she’d been painfully
