A Tricky Proposition. Cat Schield
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Had she said that, or had he? The events of the night were blurry. In fact, the only thing she remembered with crystal clarity was the feel of his lips on hers. The way her head spun as he plunged his tongue into her mouth and set her afire.
“It was a mistake because we were best friends and hooking up would have messed up our relationship.”
“But we’re not hormone-driven teenagers anymore,” he reminded her. “We can approach the sex as a naked hug between friends.”
“A naked hug?” She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or hit him.
What he wanted from her threatened to turn her emotions into a Gordian knot, and yet she found herself wondering if she could do as he asked. If she went into it without expectations, maybe it was possible for her to enjoy a few glorious nights in Jason’s bed and get away with her head clear and her heart unharmed.
“Having …” She cleared her throat and tried again. “Making …” Her throat closed up. Completing the sentence made the prospect so much more real. She wasn’t ready to go there yet.
Jason took pity on her inability to finish her thought. “Love?”
“It’s intimate and …” Her skin tingled at the thought of just how intimate.
“You don’t think I know that?”
Jason’s velvet voice slid against her senses. Her entire body flushed as desire pulsed hot and insistent. How many times since her engagement ended had she awakened from a salacious dream about him, feeling like this? Heavy with need and too frustrated to go back to sleep? Too many nights to count.
“Let me finish,” she said. “We know each other too well. We’re too comfortable. There’s no romance between us. It would be like brushing each other’s teeth.”
“Brushing each other’s teeth?” he echoed, laughter dancing in his voice. “You underestimate my powers of seduction.”
The wicked light in his eye promised that he was not going to be deterred from his request. A tremor threatened to upend the small amount of her confidence still standing.
“You overestimate my ability to take you seriously.”
All at once he stopped trying to push her buttons and his humor faded. “If you are going to become a mother, you don’t want that to happen in the sterile environment of a doctor’s office. Your conception should be memorable.”
She wasn’t looking for memorable. Memorable lasted. It clogged up her emotions and made her long for impossible things. She wanted clinical. Practical. Uncomplicated.
Which is why her decision to ask him to be her child’s father made so little sense. What if her son or daughter inherited his habit of mixing his food together on the plate before eating because he liked the way it all tasted together? That drove her crazy. She hated it when the different types of food touched each other.
Would her baby be cursed by his carefree nature and impulsiveness? His love of danger and enthusiasm for risk taking?
Or blessed with his flirtatious grin, overpowering charisma, leadership skills and athletic ability.
For someone who thought everything through, it now occurred to her that she’d settled too fast on Jason for her baby’s father. As much as she’d insisted that he wouldn’t be tied either legally or financially to the child, she hadn’t considered how her child would be part of him.
“I would prefer my conception to be fast and efficient,” she countered.
“Why not start off slow and explore where it takes us?”
Slow?
Explore?
Ming’s tongue went numb. Her emotions simmered in a pot of anticipation and anxiety.
“I’m going to need to think about it.”
“Take your time.” If he was disappointed by her indecisiveness, he gave no indication. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Three days passed without any contact from Ming. Was she considering his proposal or had she rejected the idea and was too angry at his presumption to speak to him? He shouldn’t care what she chose. Either she said yes and he could have the opportunity to satisfy his craving for her, or she would refuse and he’d get over the fantasy of her moaning beneath him.
“Jason? Jason?” Max’s shoulder punch brought Jason back to the racetrack. “Geez, man, where the hell’s your head today?”
Cars streaked by, their powerful engines drowning out his unsettling thoughts. It was Saturday afternoon. He and Max were due to race in an hour. Driving distracted at over a hundred miles an hour was a recipe for trouble.
“Got something I didn’t resolve this week.”
“It’s not like you to worry about work with the smell of gasoline and hot rubber on the wind.”
Max’s good-natured ribbing annoyed Jason as much as his slow time in the qualifying round. Or maybe more so because it wasn’t work that preoccupied Jason, but a woman.
“Yeah, well, it’s a pretty big something.”
Never in his life had he let a female take his mind off the business at hand. Especially when he was so determined to win this year’s overall points trophy and show Max what he was missing by falling in love and getting engaged.
“Let me guess, you think someone’s embezzling from Sterling Bridge.”
“Hardly.” As CFO of the company his grandfather began in the mid-fifties, Jason had an eagle eye for any discrepancies in the financials. “Let’s just say I’ve put in an offer and I’m waiting to hear if it’s been accepted.”
“Let me guess, that ‘68 Shelby you were lusting after last month?”
“I’m not talking about it,” Jason retorted. Let Max think he was preoccupied with a car. He’d promised Ming that he’d keep quiet about fathering her child. Granted, she hadn’t agreed to let him father the child the way he wanted to, but he sensed she’d come around. It was only a matter of when.
“If it’s the Shelby then it’s already too late. I bought it two days ago.” Max grinned at Jason’s disgruntled frown. “I had a space in my garage that needed to be filled.”
“And whose fault is that?” Jason spoke with more hostility than he meant to.
A couple of months ago Jason had shared with Max his theory that the Lansing Employment Agency was not in the business of placing personal assistants with executives, but in matchmaking. Max thought that was crazy. So he wagered his rare ‘69 ‘Cuda that he wouldn’t marry the temporary assistant the employment agency sent him. But when the owner of the placement company turned out to be the long-lost love of Max’s life, Jason gained a car but lost his best buddy.
“Why are you still so angry about winning the bet?” Despite his complaint, Max wore a good-natured grin. Everything about Max was good-natured these days. “You got the car I spent five years convincing a guy to sell me. I love that car.”
He loved his beautiful fiancée more.
“I’m not angry,” Jason grumbled. He missed his cynical-about-love friend. The guy who understood and agreed that love and marriage were to be avoided because falling head over heels for a woman was dangerous and risky.
“Rachel thinks you feel abandoned. Like because she and I are together, you’ve lost your best friend.”
Jason shot Max a skeptical look. “Ming’s my best friend. You’re just some guy I used to hang out with before you got all stupid about a girl.”
Max acted as if he hadn’t heard Jason’s dig. “I think she’s right.”
“Of course you do,” Jason