reaction? He strove to be calm, barely held onto the question hovering on the tip of his tongue. When he thought it safe to open his mouth he asked, ‘You don’t want a little Aussie?’ Who cared? Avoiding asking what he desperately needed to know and yet was afraid to find out was only stalling, not solving a thing.
‘I’d prefer to be with my friends.’
Friends, not family. Showed how little he knew about her. ‘How far along are you?’ His breath caught in the back of his throat as he waited for her answer. It had been over seven months since the bombing in Bamiyan, since they’d found solace in each other’s bodies. Was the baby his? If it was, why hadn’t she told him about it? But why should she? What would she want from him? Apparently nothing, if it was his. There’d been no contact from her since that night, which in itself was unusual in his experience of women. If the baby wasn’t his, then whose?
Sophie lifted her head, her chin jutting out as she said quietly, firmly, ‘Seven and a half months. She’s yours.’
He reeled back on his heels. Her direct reply knocked the air out of him and had his stomach sucking in on itself. It was one thing to wonder if he was the father; completely different to learn he actually was. Again heat flooded him. ‘I see.’
Huh? I do?
Goosebumps lifted his skin. According to this woman he’d spent barely half a dozen hours with in total he’d made her pregnant. Should he believe her without question? Just accept her word for it without DNA testing? They’d had sex once. Once. What were the odds? How could he trust her to be telling the truth when he knew next to nothing about her?
Sophie was standing tall, her arms now at her sides, her hands fisted, her chin jutting out further, her eyes daring him to challenge her statement.
And just like that he knew she hadn’t lied, wasn’t trying to tie him into anything he didn’t want. The tension left him. Then it was back, gripping him harder, tightening the muscles in his gut, his legs, his arms.
I don’t want to be a father.
Did Sophie want to be a mother? Obviously she did or she’d have terminated the pregnancy, wouldn’t she? She didn’t know he never intended being a parent, or getting into a long-term relationship. That he played the field because he was just like his father, an expert at moving on from woman to woman. Where was the relief? Why wasn’t he falling over backwards in gratitude for her not involving him in this baby’s life? But now she had. There was no avoiding it. ‘We need to talk.’
‘Why?’
‘Don’t play games, Sophie. I’d like to know more about this baby, and how you’re keeping. What I can do for you.’ There. Responsibility kicked in even before he’d thought things through. Thanks to his dad for another lesson he’d learned well. As long as it didn’t backfire on him.
‘That’s easy. Baby and I are healthy, and there’s absolutely nothing I expect from you.’ Despite her determined attitude, a flicker of doubt crossed that intense gaze, and her fists clenched tighter.
Unease rattled him. She did want something. Despite her statement to the contrary, there were things she’d want from him. He’d do the right thing. Stand by her and the baby. But that was the beginning and end of it. He wouldn’t be tied down. Not for the sake of a child. It wouldn’t work. He and Sophie didn’t know anything about each other.
You know the sex can be out of this world.
One great bonk in extenuating circumstances didn’t make a long-lasting relationship. Anyway, it probably wouldn’t be the same again. Want to put that theory to the test? Yeah, he did. But wasn’t going to now.
Another thing against further involvement was that he didn’t do love. Didn’t believe in it. He’d got this far without it. One too many times watching his father’s latest girlfriend pack her bags and leave when he’d been a boy had taught him that getting involved with anyone led to nothing but anguish. It’d hurt every time, watching them walk away after he’d become close and begun to think they might be there as he grew up. Sometimes it had broken him. At first he’d had to learn not to cry, then he’d learned to be stoic, and finally gruff and rude. Love wasn’t anything like it was cracked up to be. Not even the mother of his unborn child was getting a look in. Telling Sophie any of that wasn’t happening, though he still needed to talk to her. ‘What time are you taking a break?’ he snapped, louder than he’d intended.
Sophie stared at him as though searching for something.
He only hoped he could provide whatever it was. All the more reason to go somewhere private before she said anything. ‘Well?’
Looking around the busy room, where heads had lifted at his question, she shrugged, which set his teeth on edge. ‘I can go to lunch any time I like. Despite how it looks I don’t exactly get rushed off my feet. Unless there’s a forced march in the wind,’ she added with a tentative smile.
‘Then you get queues of soldiers with all sorts of maladies that show no symptoms.’ He wanted to smile back but was all out of them right now. ‘Seen it all too often.’ That caution on Sophie’s face was unexpected, given how she’d thrown herself at him in Bamiyan, and again underlined how little he knew her. It also softened his stance the smallest of bits.
Toughen up. Don’t go all soft over this. A baby, huh? A huge responsibility even if he only kept to the outskirts of the child’s life. But...he was going to be a dad.
I am not ready for this. Will never be ready. This changes everything.
He and Sophie were now tied together in some way for ever. He turned for the entrance, his legs tensing, ready to run, hard and fast, as far away as possible, to outrun this crazy situation.
The only thing holding him back was that he’d always taken his responsibilities seriously.
Haven’t been dealt this hand before.
True. It was as terrifying as that bomb in Bamiyan, and the consequences were going to last a lot longer. He had another mark to step up to, one he was not prepared for and had absolutely no idea how to manage.
‘We need somewhere quiet for this discussion.’ Sophie probably had similar concerns. Her sympathetic tone felt like a caress even if the intent of her words was a harsh reminder of what was ahead.
How could she remain so calm? He could hate her for that. No, not fair. She’d had months to prepare for today. And his anger was directed at the shock she’d delivered, not at her personally. But she should’ve told him. Then he’d have been prepared. A shudder rocked him. Really? Would he ever be able to look back at this moment and say it was a good thing to have happened? His hands clenched. Not likely.
‘Is there somewhere we won’t be interrupted?’ Cooper demanded. There were a few personnel on this base he knew and would enjoy catching up with—some other time. His best mate would have to wait too. Right now he wanted this upcoming conversation done and dusted in one sitting, though he somehow doubted it was ever going to finish, that there’d always be things to discuss about their child. Their daughter. Sophie had said, she’s yours. Oh, hell. A wee girl. His throat clogged. His daughter. This would take some getting used to. If he even wanted to, and right now he didn’t. How could a guy whose mother had committed suicide when he was six and a father who’d had an endless stream of women moving through their lives grasp the basics of good parenting?
‘We could go to my quarters.’
