Tessa Radley - Expecting His Child - The Pregnancy Plot / Staking His Claim / A Tricky Proposition

And her clothes.

The limits of her shoestring travel wardrobe had obviously occurred to Matt, too, because he called about it ten minutes after she finished her bath. “If you need to go shopping, the concierge can—”

“Don’t worry,” she replied breezily. “I’ve got that covered.”

“Okay.” But he didn’t sound sure and his doubt irritated her. Didn’t he trust her to choose appropriate attire? They’d never been out, so he had no idea her tastes extended to more than jeans, tiny summer dresses and X-rated lingerie.

“A dress and heels, hey?” She’d hung up and readjusted her towel, tucking it tightly under her arm before tapping on her phone’s contacts list. “I’ll give you a dress and heels, Matthew Cooper.”

* * *

He hadn’t been so excited about date since...since forever, Matt thought, changing gears as he drove across Anzac Parade.

He barely recalled the details of that afternoon: a bunch of meetings, phone calls and schedule confirmations. Decker’s brief of their Italian job next Sunday. Good thing his office manager put it all in his online calendar; otherwise he’d be screwed.

Yes, for a second he’d experienced doubt but he quickly shut it down. Doubt never got him anywhere, and he wouldn’t start entertaining it now. This was their second chance and he was going to pull out all the stops to show her he’d changed and that the best thing for her baby was for both of them to be in its life.

A baby. He felt the crazy grin take shape before he clenched his jaw to kill it. A 30 percent chance of conception wasn’t a whole lot to work with but at least it was something.

Twenty minutes later he pulled up in front of his apartment building and yanked on the brake. Anticipation accelerated his step as he strode into the brightly lit lobby.

Then he stopped dead in his tracks.

He registered black heels, a long satiny black dress with one strap tied high on her shapely shoulder. Fiery curls tumbled down her back in thick, touchable waves and her generous mouth was coated in shiny cherry-red lipstick.

Wow.

She took a few steps forward and the slinky material rippled around her legs, revealing a smooth calf and dimpled knee. “I didn’t know what you had planned so...” She raised her arms a little, a tiny sparkly clutch in her hand.

“You look amazing.” He unashamedly took her in.

She smiled despite her skittering gaze. Ah, now he’d thrown her. Good.

“Still nervous with compliments?” He raised his brow.

“Yep.”

When he extended an arm, she barely hesitated before taking it. A bewitching smell of strawberries and something floral teased his senses, and he took a deep breath. “I like your hair like that.”

“I know.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Honest, too.”

“I find it makes things less complicated that way.”

Yeah, he remembered that about her. So what would she have to say about his subterfuge? That he planned to put everything into seducing her, into making her fall in love with him?

“So, you just had a spare evening gown hanging around in your luggage?” He drew her toward the front door, her heels clicking on the smooth tiles.

“I have a girlfriend who’s a fashion buyer for David Jones.”

“Handy.”

“Indeed.” Her lips curved again, matching his smile, and his heart did a little flip at the thought of the coming evening.

* * *

Emily stared out the window as they crawled past an unobtrusive town house, light from a subdued neon sign streaming down onto the sidewalk. “We’re eating at Maxfield?”

“Yep.”

“George Evans’s restaurant? The guy who won last year’s Master Chef?” They turned the next corner.

“Yep.”

“And you got a table on short notice?”

“Yep.”

“Are you going to say anything else other than ‘yep’?”

“Yep.” He gave her a wink before pulling into a spare parking spot. She waited, enjoying the view as he came around the car, opened her door and offered his hand. She took it, swung her legs out and rose fluidly.

They walked hand in hand to the restaurant, the warm intimacy sending a steady thrum of delight over her skin. How could she calmly sit and eat a meal and not succumb to the desire of ripping his clothes off when he was so very close?

She thought back to ten years ago and how she’d sensed his interest the first time he’d come striding into her coffee shop. Lucy and Maz had fallen over themselves to serve him, but he’d focused on AJ, those dark, brooding eyes somehow detecting her lust concealed beneath her efficient barista facade. The next day he’d asked for her number. That night she’d ended up in his bed.

Just like tonight. Excitement surged at the thought.

He squeezed her hand, smiling down at her.

“Why are we having dinner again?” she asked, letting out a breath.

“Because I’m hungry.”

“Very funny. But that’s not what I meant.”

“I know. And we’ll get to that soon enough. But right now, can you just enjoy the evening?”

With a small huff, AJ could do nothing but nod.

* * *

The minutes dragged by, painful, boring moments in which they were seated, given menus and the wine list and then left to decide.

Matt folded his menu and turned his attention to her. “So, you have a sister.”

“Emily, yes.” She rearranged her cutlery, aligning it perfectly with her plate.

“Older or younger?”

“Younger.”

“And your parents? Are they—?”

“Not in the picture. Ever.”

When she put her elbows on the table and leaned forward, his gaze latched on to the tiny butterfly pendant at her throat as it swung gently, glinting in the light. “Matt, look, I’d prefer we don’t talk about my past.”

He brought his eyes back to her and frowned. “I’m just trying to get a conversation going here.”

“I know. But those people are off-limits.”

Those people? Matt’s brow ratcheted up but he said nothing. Take your time. You deal with setbacks and plan deviations every day. This one is no different.

“You and Emily are close.”

He heard her small sigh before she laid her arms on the table, cupping her elbows. “Now, yes.”

“And before?”

“We hadn’t talked in years. But we’re good now.” She waved a casually dismissive hand, but the deliberateness of the gesture sent up a red flag. He stored that snippet away for future reference.

“So where did you grow up?”

“Lots of places. Look, Matt—”

“Sydney? Brisbane?”

“Perth. I don’t think—”

When he leaned in he didn’t miss the way she ever so slightly leaned back. “Humor me, AJ. I just want a little background.”

“Why?”

“Because I really know nothing about you.”

“You know enough.”

“No, I don’t.” He focused on repositioning his wineglass in order to give her time to work out an answer without feeling the pressure of his scrutiny. “For example, where did you go to school? Did you have any pets when you were a kid? What’s your favorite movie? Book?”

When he finally glanced up, she was staring at him so hard, it almost felt like a rebuke. Yet he held firm and finally she said, “I stopped counting schools after six. We couldn’t afford to feed ourselves, let alone any pets. I must’ve seen The Wizard of Oz a hundred times. And my favorite book? The Magic Faraway Tree.”

“Enid Blyton?”

She nodded. “I always wanted a tree like that.”

“Didn’t every kid?” He smiled.

AJ remained grim. “No, I really wanted one.”

Before he could reply, a waitress appeared. “Are you ready to order?”

He clamped his mouth shut and gave the waitress a neutral smile.