Having His Child. Amy J. Fetzer
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She stole a sip, then handed back the bottle. “The day you cry over a woman, Ryder, is the day I can spin straw into gold.” She pushed him out of her kitchen, her hands on his shoulders, fingers digging in to his tense muscles. He moaned, almost purring. “I think you’re dating women who like your social status and success more than the fact that you heal children.”
He slid her a look, then faced her. “You’ve got more to say, I can tell. Go on.”
“I don’t think you’re looking for deep, so you’re not getting deep.”
“I’d like to get married some day.”
She laughed outright and didn’t see his offended look as she walked past and looked out the window for her date. Only Luc’s Jaguar was parked in front of the house. She swung around as he made himself at home on her sofa.
“I don’t want to be alone forever, you know.”
Alone? Never. Single? Oh, yes, she thought. “Okay, if that’s true then date women who are marriage material, for heaven’s sake. From my perspective, your selection almost guarantees a breakup.”
He looked up from peeling the label off the beer bottle, and those blue eyes caught her dead in the heart. God, he was so sexy.
“Luc, honey.” She crossed to the sofa and sat beside him. “You’re committed to your career far more than anything else.”
“Am not.”
“Really? You’ve been back nearly two years and I’ve seen you twice a month, maybe. And just why did Denise—”
“Diane—”
“Diane dump you?”
“Tired of me canceling or leaving in the middle of a date to get to the hospital.” His dark brows drew down. Maybe she had something there. But Diane did mention Angela a couple times when they were dismantling their relationship, and Luc knew she’d been jealous. Was he using his job to protect himself from actually making a commitment like marriage? “She’s dating Arty now.”
Arthur was the podiatrist at the hospital, she recalled. “See there, one of the marriageable ones would understand, be supportive. And marriage is more than a home-cooked meal and getting your dry cleaning picked up, Luc. Lord, you go through women like diet sodas. It’s disgusting.”
He resented that. He wasn’t that bad. “Look who’s talking. What about Andrew?”
“That was two months ago.” She made a see-what-I-mean face. “Besides, he thought that because I’m AJ at Midnight, giving advice to lovelorn over the radio, it meant I knew everything there was about sex.”
His features sharpened. “Did he try something?”
“Yeah, a lot,” she said with feeling. “But I beat him off with an ugly stick.”
He grinned. “I’ll just bet you did.”
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway was accompanied by the flash of headlights through the windows. Angela stood, grabbing her shawl and throwing it over her shoulders.
Lucas nearly swallowed his tongue.
“What’s the matter? Is it too short? You can’t see the tops of my stockings, can you?”
She walked to the hall mirror and tried to get a look at her hem. Luc moved behind her, and when she looked up, she caught his gaze in the reflection. Her heart instantly skipped to her throat. She’d never seen him stare at her like that, not since they were teenagers.
“Lucas…you’re looking at me like you want to get me out of my panties.”
His gaze shot to hers, and for a second they just stared, then he walked closer, giving her a sexy half-smile. “I’ve always wanted you out of them, darlin’, except you’re too good a woman for a guy like me.”
“A pediatrician, financially stable, not too hard on the eyes? Oh, yeah, you’re a real bottom of the barrel loser.”
“You say that now, but I like fried frog legs and I know how you feel about that.”
She shivered with revulsion. “You’re right,” she said. “I’d have to kick you out first time you brought that gunk within smelling distance.” She tossed the edge of the shawl over her shoulder and snatched her evening bag. “Let’s be friends, huh?”
Friends. Why didn’t that satisfy him as it usually had, he wondered as she kissed him quick and sweet. The urge to pull her close surged through him. He smashed it down and wondered where his mind had gone to live, because it sure as hell wasn’t in his head right now.
Two
“Whoa, wait a second.” In Angela’s kitchen, Katherine Davenport set the untouched coffee cup she’d been holding aside. “You are planning on having a child alone, with no husband. In the south!”
Angela winced at the censure in her voice. “Kat, this is the twenty-first century, for pity’s sake. I have a good job and a nice house and I will be able to work any hours I need to.”
“My sorority sister has simply lost her mind.” Kat grabbed her arm and led her to the kitchen table. “Sit.”
Angela obeyed. “I take it you don’t approve.”
“It’s not my place to do that, but think of the repercussions.”
“I have, ever since it ended with Eric last year.”
“He wasn’t good enough for you.”
“Lord, you sound like my father. I loved him, Kat. I loved him more than any man. And I thought we wanted the same things till I thought I was pregnant and told him.” Angela sipped her coffee, then set the cup down, the year-old heartache of his betrayal bruising her all over again. “I don’t think I’ve ever been dumped quite that fast. Must have been a record.” Eric had been furious, blaming her, accusing her of trapping him, and he was gone before she knew if she was truly pregnant or not. It wasn’t like he hadn’t participated, and though it turned out to be a scare, the entire incident made her see how selfish he had been. He would have made a lousy father, anyway.
“He wasn’t good enough for you, and that proved it.”
“I know, but my heart didn’t listen for a long time.”
“Does Lucas know what happened?”
“Yes.” Her lips curved a bit. “He wanted to beat the daylights out of him. Instead he beat him at baseball.”
“What will Lucas say about artificial insemination?” Retrieving her coffee, Kat slid into the opposite chair.
“Lucas isn’t going to know.”
Kat’s eyes went wide. “Oh, you can’t be serious. He’s your best friend.”
“That’s only half of it.”
Kat leaned over the table, reaching for Angela’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “Talk to me, sugah.”
Angela swore she was going to keep this to herself, but the secret felt like a shook bottle of champagne inside her just waiting for its cork to loosen. And she could trust Katherine. “I don’t want to tell him, and you must promise he won’t learn it from you.”
Kat crossed her heart. “Nothing shy of torture would get it out of me.”
Angela smiled. “My decision would not go over well with him. At all. He was abandoned, forced to live on the streets till the county picked him up and threw him in Anchorage House.” The day she’d first seen him came back with the same hard blow to her middle. The epitome of teenage tall, dark and mean as hell, she thought, wearing worn jeans and a tight T-shirt. His shoes were nearly soleless, and he was angry, so angry at the world. “He gets a little nuts when it comes to children. He doesn’t