The Marriage Solution. Brenda Harlen
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the only way to ensure the same thing would never happen to any child of his own was to never have children.
So he’d always been careful about birth control, determined to protect any woman he was with as much as himself. And while he was aware that no method of contraception was one hundred percent effective, he’d never before had a condom break.
The fact that it had happened with Tess both relieved and frustrated him. He knew she didn’t sleep around, so the only potential repercussion to worry about was pregnancy. But that was a huge worry, not just because he wasn’t ready—and might never be ready—to be a father, but because he hated to think how an unplanned pregnancy would affect Tess’s life. She was his friend, his confidante—the one woman who meant more to him than any other—and he’d failed to take care of her.
He winced at the selfishness of his own actions. He’d known immediately that something had happened, but he didn’t pull out. It felt too good to be inside her, deep in the warm heat of her body. And then her legs had wrapped around him, her fingernails had dug into his shoulders and he’d been helpless to do anything but follow the urging of his body and drive them both to the finish.
He shoved his hands into his pockets as he continued to pace. The last thing he needed to be thinking about right now was making love with Tess, but as hard as he tried, he couldn’t seem to banish the memories. And if he couldn’t think about that night without guilt and remorse, he also couldn’t forget how perfect everything had been up to that moment when he’d realized the condom had broke. He couldn’t sleep without dreaming of her and then he’d wake and ache with desires.
He’d known having sex with her would change their friendship and he’d expected a certain amount of awkwardness. But he hadn’t expected that he wouldn’t be able to look at her without wanting to get her into his bed again.
He forced the tempting picture from his mind and glanced at his watch.
She must have finished the test by now.
The sound of her shoes clicking softly on the tile seconds before she stepped into view confirmed that she had.
Her eyes were wide, her cheeks white, her lips pressed tightly together.
Despite her obvious distress, he felt some of the pressure inside his chest ease. Maybe it was strange, but he’d found the not knowing worse than the truth. Now, at least they could face their future.
“We’re going to have a baby,” he said.
She nodded slowly.
He wanted to take her in his arms, to reassure her that they were in this together. But he suspected that she wouldn’t appreciate the overture, especially since it was his desire to comfort her that had led to another kind of desire and landed them in this current predicament.
She moved past him into the kitchen and he caught a whiff of her scent, something subtly fruity and distinctly Tess. He felt the stir of desire again, immediately followed by a stab of guilt at the realization he was lusting after his best friend—the woman who was pregnant with his child.
She opened the fridge and pulled out a can of ginger ale. “Do you want one?”
“Sure,” he agreed.
She passed him the can and took another out for herself, popped the top. Her hands, he noted, weren’t quite steady and her complexion had taken on the slightly green tinge he recognized from last night’s incident with the Pad Thai.
“Are you going to be sick?” he asked.
“I hope not.” She took a long swallow of her soda. “But someone needs to fix this baby’s internal clock because my supposed ‘morning’ sickness usually seems to strike in the evening.”
“Has it been very bad?” he asked, both curious and concerned.
She shook her head. “I can’t complain. I remember my sister was sick all day during the first few months of her pregnancy with Becca.”
“I’m sorry, Tess.”
“About what—the nausea or my pregnancy?”
“Both,” he admitted.
“Don’t be,” she said. “Even though this wasn’t planned, I want this baby.”
“What can I do?”
Her smile was wry. “You’ve already done your part.”
“As I recall, we did that part together.”
“You’re right.” She dropped her gaze as her cheeks colored. While Tess had always been frustrated by her blushing, he’d always been fascinated by it. She was a smart, savvy professional woman, and yet the pinking of her cheeks hinted at an innocence that was surprisingly arousing and incredibly tempting.
“And we’ll do the rest together,” he said. “I’m not going to leave you to deal with this on your own.”
“I am on my own and I can manage this pregnancy on my own.”
He should have guessed that was how she’d approach this. Strong, capable, independent Tess—she didn’t need anyone or anything. As she was constantly reminding him whenever he made the mistake of offering to help. Her independence was one of the things he admired about her even when it frustrated the hell out of him.
But this time, he wouldn’t let her cut him out of the equation. It was, after all, his baby she was carrying and he was determined to 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