Vivian Arend - Turn It Up

Operation Baby—before that magic number of thirty-five hit and she turned into a pumpkin or something.

She’d always hated the cliché of the damn clock ticking, but over the past couple of years that was exactly what she’d heard. Every month as the dream of starting a family seemed to grow more distant, the timer counting down got louder and louder.

Sunlight flashed off the tabletop and she groaned in pain as her temples throbbed in response. Of course, right now the thought of being responsible for anyone other than herself scared her silly. She should crawl back into bed and sleep until Monday.

It was a brilliant plan, and one she was going to put into action as soon as possible. But first, she had to ditch Maxwell.

Max added extra cream and sugar to Tasha’s coffee cup. It was unlikely she would be eating anything soon, and at least this way she’d consume a few calories. He nodded at the barista and picked up their cups, balancing them easily as he returned to the table.

She’d leaned back in the oversized chair, head resting against the side wing. In contrast to her dark hair, her skin was pale, and she must have had a headache the size of California. But he wasn’t about to let this chance slip away. For the past four years he’d been biding his time. He recognized an opportunity when he saw one, and this was it—Natasha Bellingham was going to be his. Enough of her running, and if he had to take advantage of the moment, so be it.

Her nose twitched when he placed the cup in front of her and he laughed. “I don’t understand how you think you’re going to survive without coffee. You’re pretty near addicted to the stuff.”

She narrowed her eyes, the dark brown irises locking on him. “That’s the second time you mentioned that, about me giving up coffee. How do you know what I’ve got planned?”

“You told me.” He gave her a serious nod, keeping all traces of amusement hidden. “Last night, when I helped you up to your apartment.”

“You helped me…” Her eyes clouded over for a moment. She shook her head, then cringed. She sucked back more of her coffee and he let his smile escape.

“There were a number of interesting revelations last night. How you weren’t embarrassed about having a good time with your friends because it was your last time drinking for as long as it takes. And then there’s the coffee you’re giving up—as well as any kind of tea but herbal.”

Two red circles appeared on her cheeks and she stuttered. One deep breath later, Max watched in amazement as she turned calm and cool before him, the embarrassed, hungover woman vanishing beneath a perfectly in-control persona.

“Well, it appears you’ve found out about my new health régime. Part of getting older. Time to take care of the body a little better.”

Damn, she was good. If he didn’t know her so well, he would have fallen for the cool, collected and put-together routine she displayed.

She leaned forward and stared at him intently. “Was there something specific you wanted? The message on my answering machine mentioned a business proposal.”

“That’s right.”

He tipped back a hit of his coffee, trying to waste a few minutes. Fortunately, last night the calm woman before him had been far more hot-blooded and emotional. He wouldn’t hold it over her head, but he would capitalize on what she’d let slip.

As he waited for her breathing to fall back into a steady pattern, he pulled out the file folder he’d prepared after tucking her into bed last night—and he wasn’t about to tell her that part either. Not yet. Even though the memory of her soft skin made him instantly aching and hard, he had forced himself to not take advantage of the opportunity.

It had nearly killed him to slip her under her quilt and not crawl in with her. Especially after listening to her confess what she wanted, what he was more than willing to provide. If he hadn’t been raised to be a gentleman, it would have made life so much easier. Giving in and fucking her while she was drunk was no way to start a lasting relationship.

He handed over the portfolio.

Tasha accepted it with reluctance, pulling it toward her. “What’s this? I’m not up for any games today, okay?”

He shook his head. “No games. Take your time, read it through.”

She rubbed her eyes for a moment then opened the file with a deep sigh. Humoring him no doubt. Her gaze darted over the page and slowly her brow furrowed.

“Maxwell, I think you gave me the wrong papers. These are your health records.”

He smiled. “That’s right. I had a full physical last month and all the paper work is up to date. I thought you’d appreciate that.”

She snorted. “Oh yeah. Thank you. Exactly what I need to see the night after I drink myself shit-faced. Good for you.” She scrolled down the page with a finger. “Gee, nice blood pressure. And your BMI is amazing. You should be proud.”

Max chuckled. “Ahh, I love your sense of humor.”

Tasha leaned back and sighed. “Look, I don’t feel well. Get to the point. I know you’re smarter than anyone else, so use small words and I’ll try to understand.”

“Turn the page. I think you’ll get the picture.”

She rolled her eyes then winced in pain, and he wiped his mouth to hide his grin. While he felt for her, he was grateful the liquor last night had been enough to loosen her lips. At least enough to make her spill the beans in regards to her plan to get pregnant.

Which fit his agenda just fine.

She turned the page and froze, her mouth hanging open as she stared at the open file before her. The twin spots of color on her cheeks spread to flush her entire face, and she slammed her lips together.

He waited. He was good at waiting.

“Maxwell Dale Turner, what the hell is this?”

Tasha flipped the portfolio around to display the ring he’d taped to the page below the note written in all capital letters.

WILL YOU MARRY ME?

The constant pulse of blood through her temples was louder now than when she’d arrived at the coffee shop. And if Junior didn’t stop grinning and start talking, she was going to remove his tonsils with a spoon.

“I think it’s pretty clear. I didn’t even use fancy words. Plain and simple, like you requested.” He motioned to the file. “Go on, read it.”

She stared at the silver ring. It shone against the stark white background of the paper. Maxwell’s neat handwriting continued below where it hung.

In light of your desire to start a family it seems—

An icy chill washed over her as she tore her gaze from the page to stare at him. “How did you find out I wanted to start a family?”

She hadn’t told anyone. Not her closest friend, not anyone .

“You told me. Last night. While you were getting undressed you—”

Getting undressed? She snapped up a hand and he stopped dead in mid-sentence. Conversations continued to float around them, light laughter carrying from a few tables over. The whole situation was surreal and this was not the place she wanted to hold this discussion. Not where they could be overheard.

Because it sounded like they had a few things to discuss.

“Drive me home,” she demanded.

He stood and held out his hand. If she could have made it out the door without wavering, she would have ignored the offer, but ending up on her ass on the floor would be more traumatic than accepting his assistance. They walked outside in silence where she paused to root in her purse for her sunglasses.

Max opened his car door and she slid onto the leather seat. The dark-toned interior and shaded windows eased her pain a little. He squatted beside her, leaning across her body to fasten her seatbelt. The spicy scent of his aftershave made her mouth water as her face settled into the crook of his neck.