She nodded, her neck sore from the tension that had gripped her hours ago.
“I’m meeting with Arnie tomorrow about changing my will and drawing up a prenuptial agreement for us.”
Payton fought an empty smile, noting his subtle pairing of death and marriage. Her mouth opened to set him straight, but he had his hand out, ready to cut her off.
“You know I’m going to be fair. The details are flexible, but I’m non-negotiable on the point of the agreement itself.”
She couldn’t care less about a prenuptial agreement. Because they wouldn’t need one.
“I’m not marrying you.” No satisfaction came from the words, only the bone-deep certainty that they were true.
“Don’t be like this, Payton. It’s important. An agreement will protect us both.”
“Nate, it’s not about the prenup. I’m not marrying you.”
His eyes narrowed on her. “What are you talking about? You’re pregnant. Of course you are.”
“No.”
She saw the moment it clicked for him. When the pieces fell into place and a dark shadow fell across his hardening features. “The questions. You weren’t worrying about me stepping up. It was a test. A trap. Making me tell you—” His eyes pinched shut, a vein popping to life along his temple. “Damn it, Payton.”
“I needed to make sure. Before you knew about the baby.”
“Why? So you could back yourself into a corner you can’t get out of? Well, forget it. Forget what I said and forget about not marrying me. Everything’s different now.”
“Not everything.” Their eyes clashed, held. Hers telling him she wouldn’t back down. His begging to differ.
“You aren’t thinking straight,” he said levelly, his body language conveying all the confidence in the world that she’d see it his way. But she was onto his manipulative tactics.
Fat chance.
“You’re a smart woman. All you need is some rest and a little perspective in the morning. We’ll get you something to eat. Do you have any cravings? I’ll have anything you want here inside thirty minutes.”
“Nate, stop—”
“No. We’ll get you some dinner and we’ll go to bed. With you in my arms…and our baby inside you.”
Her breath caught as a wave of emotion crashed through her, so intense her throat seized and her vision swam. And like that, the bliss of numb was torn away, leaving her raw and trembling. “I said stop!”
“I’m not stopping!” he snapped, those blue eyes she’d once been foolish enough to call arctic blazing at her. “Not until you see reason on this.”
“Reason?” She was on her feet then, glaring at him across the table. “Give me a break. You go from assuring me there’s no chance for a future with us to offering up the rest of your life—complete with a gold band and handy prenup—within the span of thirty minutes. Who’s not being reasonable?”
“We’re going to have a baby. A child between us. It changes things. I’m adapting.”
“Then you better find another way to do it, Nate, because I’m not marrying you. There’s no love—no emotion behind your proposal and I don’t want to live the rest of my life as an obligation.”
“That’s not how it would be.” A harsh breath followed as he threw one hand up in question. “I don’t see why you’re fighting this. You’re getting what you wanted.”
“Like hell I am!” How could he even think that?
He watched her. Waited a beat as though assessing the situation before replying. Slowly, so she wouldn’t miss even one word. “Like hell you won’t. I’ll make you happy. You know I can.” The muscle in his jaw jumped. “You said it yourself—we get along great together. We have fun.”
“I want more than fun, Nate.”
Exasperation shot up his brows. “And I’m offering it.”
Not even close. “Can you deny that an hour ago the idea of this future you’re asking me to share with you didn’t have you running in the other direction?”
“An hour ago I thought I had a choice!”
Mistake. Payton’s frame shook as though he’d struck her.
Too late, he saw his error. Damn it, he was blowing this, but she wasn’t giving in!
“I’m sorry.” Rounding the table, he pulled her into his arms and shifted them both back into the chair so she rested in his lap. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Yes, it is,” she whispered, pressing her face into his chest so her soft curls spilled over him.
His arms tightened over shoulders that had never seemed so slight before. The hammering in his chest eased and for a moment they sat quietly together. And then she drew back, peering up at him, with those big brown eyes, liquid and pleading. “Nate, can’t you understand that I don’t want to take a lifetime of choices from you? That maybe I don’t want you to take them from me?”
He understood it, all right. And was more sorry than he could have imagined possible. He knew what she was going through. Knew the feeling of betrayal that had to be welling inside of her. He’d tasted that bitterness, knew firsthand the threat of someone taking the life he’d planned. Only this time, Nate’s carelessness had been the culprit to take Payton’s choices and no test six months from now could set her free.
Damn it, he hadn’t wanted to take anything away from her. It was the reason he ended things between them. He’d wanted her to be able to move on and find the man who would care for her the way she needed, wholly, without reservation. Only with those two uttered words, “I’m pregnant,” that man became him.
Unlike with Annegret, there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind. This baby was his—which meant so was Payton. And getting her to accept that was the first priority.
Fundamentally, he understood the problem. Payton had had a mere handful of hours to come to terms with the fact her life had changed immediately and irrevocably. Whereas, he’d been through this before—had months to contemplate his sense of priorities and values as they applied to a child entering his life. He’d known then what he would do, as he knew now.
He’d make a family. Make them whole.
“I understand, Payton. I do. But everything is different now that there’s a baby. We’re bound together for the rest of our lives through the child inside you.”
“I’m not arguing that, but it doesn’t mean we have to get married. You know I would never keep you from seeing him.”
Him. She thought it would be a boy. He closed his eyes, pushing back the images that one word conjured. Visions he wasn’t yet ready to face. “No. You won’t. Because we’ll be together. All of us.”
She tried to stand, but he held her in place. Close to him, where she belonged.
“Nate, what you’re suggesting is—”
“Important.”
“Impossible. There are all kinds of families. People with situations much more convoluted than ours make it work without being married.”
He shook his head, cupped her chin in his palm. “It won’t work for me if I miss out on half of my child’s life because I don’t live with him.”
Payton wanted to shove against his chest and scream her frustration, but the stress of the day had taken its toll and sapped the little energy she’d begun with. Now all she could do was whisper her protest. “I can’t.”
“I know you’re scared, sweetheart. But I swear you don’t have to be. We’ll work this out. It doesn’t have to happen tonight.”
“No. It doesn’t.” They both needed some time to get used to the idea. Figure out how they really felt. What they wanted.
Nate would see.
“Have you told anyone yet?”
She shook her head. “No. Not yet.”
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t. Not for a while.”
She pulled back, searching his face for some sign of why, but all she saw was a man closed down and unavailable to her.
A sudden anxiety rose within her. Had he started to see someone else? Her stomach hollowed. Was there a woman he needed to tell?
To give up—
“My dad. After what happened with Annegret—all the uncertainty. I’d rather wait to tell him about the pregnancy until we’ve sorted more of the details out ourselves.”
His father. She should have realized.
“Of course. I won’t say anything,” she promised, the threat of tears leaving her voice unsteady.
Why couldn’t he just love her? Why couldn’t he have told her there was a chance for them? That walking away from what they’d had was tearing him apart? Given her anything to pin her hopes on so now she could take his reassurances and promises and wrap herself tight in them. Why did she have to know that an hour ago he still hadn’t wanted her?
To that last, she reminded herself the answer was simple. She’d made him tell her. Because signing on to a loveless marriage wasn’t something she could live with. Or perhaps it was. But a marriage where she loved Nate and he didn’t love her? No. That would be a daily heartbreak she couldn’t endure. So she’d demanded the truth.
Nate’s wide hand gathered her hair at the nape of her neck, stroked over the mass of it as he pulled her close. “We’ll work it out, sweetheart. I promise.”
Too weary to do anything else, she gave into the comfort of a hold she’d never wanted to give up—from a man who didn’t love her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
HOW in the hell was he supposed to make this work when Payton wouldn’t give a damn inch?
“I’m not giving up my job!” Her cheeks were flush, her eyes overbright with shadows beneath as she planted hands on hips and glared at him from across the distance of his living room.
“People work because they need the money,” he answered steadily, unwilling to be baited into a shouting match with this stubborn little demon woman carrying his child. “You don’t need the money.” He was the calm one. The reasonable one. Casually sprawled in his chair, smiling his most patient, unfazed smile—his hand, all the while, discreetly flexing the tension from his body behind the arm of the wingback.
They’d been going round like this for an hour now. And engaging in some variation of it for a month. He’d make a suggestion. She’d take offense. He’d clarify, take a different tack. She’d glower and throw whatever he’d offered back in his face. It didn’t matter what merit his idea held. If the suggestion came from him, she didn’t trust it, assuming it tied into his grand scheme to get her married to him.
She was right.
“Really, Nate? How do you feel about charity? How did you feel about it back when you weren’t the one offering?”
He took a steadying breath. “Payton, this isn’t charity. There are laws in place to ensure that fathers provide for their children. I’m providing.”
Her eyes flashed accusation. “You’re trying to make me dependent on you.”
“That isn’t true. While the idea of taking care of you appeals to me a great deal, stealing your independence is not my goal here.” He pushed up from the chair and paced between the fireplace and the bank of windows fronting the apartment. Blazing to bleak and back again. There was no good place to be.
“Hell, Payton, I’m not a villain. I want to make sure you and our baby have everything. I don’t want you to work when you’re tired. I don’t want you to have to leave our child with a nanny because you can’t afford not to. Can’t you see I want to help here?” And help my cause by offering assistance as I remind you of the practicalities surrounding a single mother’s life.
“I don’t want any help.” But even as she said the words the glitter of coming tears filled her eyes. She was scared and, though he’d been there every step of the way, he knew she felt alone. Because every step of the way, he’d been coming at her, working his own agenda. Trying to break her down enough that she’d let him pick her up.
A tremble touched her lips.
Why wouldn’t she just give?
He was sick of the adversarial tango between them. He could barely remember what it had been like between them before they’d found out about the baby— No. That wasn’t true. It would be easier if he could forget because he missed what they’d had. Missed the laughter and softness. The thoughtful exchanges. The hot rush that surged through him when that wild smile burst across her lips. He missed her body. Her heart. The show of too much emotion shining in her eyes when she was beneath him—that had been damn near impossible to give up. He wanted it back. Wanted to grab her shoulders and shake until she saw sense, stopped being so bullheaded and took the life he was offering her.
Watching him with wary eyes, she let out a defeated sigh and turned, giving him her back.
Screw this.
He had months before the baby came—before he had to get his shackle around her ring finger. Yes, he wanted resolution sooner. Like last week. But today he wasn’t getting anywhere. Payton needed comfort, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to lend her some.
Ignoring the aching memory of her eager acceptance of his hold—that perfect fit—he pulled Payton’s tension-stiff frame into his arms and didn’t let go. He stroked a hand down her back, bent his head to hers, and whispered into her hair. “Payton, stop fighting me. I know you’re upset and we don’t see eye to eye on…most anything these days. But this is new for us both. We’re going to figure it out together. Okay?”
Her body shuddered once, and then she gave in. Softening against him as the tension sapped from her frame. “I’m going crazy, Nate. I’m so upset. And I—I—”
“Shh. I’ll be there for you,” he promised. “Both of you. No matter what.”
Her head bowed forward, the crown rubbing against the center of his chest as she succumbed to a quiet sob.
Ducking to the side, he caught her against him, sweeping an arm beneath her knees. She didn’t fight him as he carried her to the corner of the couch closest to the fire and held her in his lap as her tears soaked his shirt.
He’d take care of her. Whether she wanted him to or not, he’d make her happy. She just had to stop fighting him first.
She’d fallen asleep. It was a mistake, but curled in the strength of Nate’s arms she’d felt so safe and calm and she’d been so tired…and then she’d let go. Let fatigue take her. Only now she wasn’t tired. But she was still folded into his lap, enveloped in his clean masculine scent, closer than she’d been to him in a month, compounding her mistake with each breath drawn and every passing second she lingered.
Tilting her head, she peered up to his sleeping face. The lines of strain around his eyes, recently etched so deep, were softened and smoothed. His mouth relaxed into the near-smile that was its natural state.
A heavy breath filled the chest beneath her, followed by the rough growl of Nate waking. God, she loved that sound.
He was offering her a lifetime of hearing it. A lifetime of mornings waking to the hard-hewn planes of his face, the security of his arms.
He surveyed her through half-lidded eyes, a slow curve touching his lips before his focus sharpened on her. Heated.
She knew what that steam-rising, jungle gaze meant. Trouble.
She tried to pull back, but couldn’t—literally.
“Oh!” Her hair tugged against the buttons of the oxford she’d been crashed out on.
Nate shifted up, only minimally pulling at the caught hair. “Hold on, sweetheart. Let me—”
“Ouch!”
“Sorry, whoa, stop squirming.”
Keenly aware of her positioning, Payton stilled, her fingers attempting to pull the loose strands from the caught batch. But Nate brushed her hand away.
“Just give me a second.” He reached to his back and pulled the shirt over his head, careful to keep the snagged buttons in one place. And then she was free. Sort of. Free from being physically attached to Nate’s chest. Only her hair, falling in a tangled curtain in front of her eyes, was still wound up in his buttons. And she was still sitting in his lap.
“Okay, I see it here.”
Good. She couldn’t see a thing.
Long fingers sifted
through the heavy mass, sending shivers of pleasure coursing over her skin.
Not good.
“I can get it.” She reached out a staying hand, only to retract it with a jerk when she encountered warm, hard flesh. Nate. Bare-chested and less than six inches away.
“Probably not without scissors. I can see what I’m doing, just hold still.”
Another gentle tug and the shirt partially fell away. “That’s one.”
“What?” she squeaked.
“You’re snagged on two here. Probably that little nuzzling thing you do when you’re asleep. I guess I must’ve been shirtless all the other times.”
Her mouth went dry. As he was shirtless now. She let out a slow breath and closed her eyes, only to find the stimulus of his touch intensified—his hand sifting gently through her hair, readjusting, gathering, gripping tight and then gentling again—
The shirt came free and she thought she’d been spared, except when Nate tossed it aside she could see what had been opposite that soft button-down— Bare skin and hard-packed muscle. The perfect tight discs of his nipples. The fine line of hair bisecting his torso, trailing into his pants and flaring wide across his pecs. All of it flickering golden in the dying firelight.
She swallowed, raising her eyes to meet the blue of Nate’s—steadily fixed on her. A muscle twitched in his jaw.
“Thank you,” she whispered, backing off his lap, her gaze dropping to his chest once more as she stepped free.
He didn’t answer, just sat there, brows drawn down, watching as she silently collected her things. At the door she turned to him, seeing the man she’d fallen in love with staring back at her for the first time in a month. No antagonism. No calculating manipulation. Just Nate. Wanting her.
She pushed a tremulous smile to her lips. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” And then she fled.
At the snick of the door closing, Nate shoved off the couch with a violent curse.
How the hell could he have been so blind? So stupid!
He’d been going about this all wrong. Wasting precious time respecting Payton’s boundaries. Believing the physical interaction—always so easy between them—had become a necessary casualty in his pursuit of her hand. Like an idiot, he’d kept his distance, waiting for her to realize that marrying him was her best option before revisiting the sexual chemistry between them. But that had been backwards thinking, and all it had won him was a month of frustrated nights and the woman he wanted getting too damn comfortable with an arm’s length space-cushion.