Tara Quinn - The Baby Gamble

The home she’d gone back to the day she’d picked up Blake from the airport in San Antonio and driven him to the hotel where she’d booked him a room, leaving him with a bank account containing a quarter of a million dollars, keys to his deceased uncle’s car, and a hole where his heart had been.

He climbed the steps more slowly this time around. Knocked. And knocked again.

When she didn’t answer, he tried the door. It had been latched earlier, but hardly anyone in River Bluff locked their doors. Blake wasn’t surprised now whenAnnie’s door swung open.

And he didn’t even think twice when he stepped inside, moving slowly through the rooms, listening for any sound that might tell him where he’d find her.

The house gave away nothing. He took in the nearly empty living room and a bedroom-turned-office, with a desk that matched her kitchen table.

Passed a bathroom and moved on down the hallway to another bedroom, not sure what to expect. And that’s where he found her. Sitting on the floor in the middle of the most exquisite room he’d ever seen.

Annie might not have done a thing with the rest of her living space, but the room she’d created for the baby she hoped to have could easily have been featured in a magazine.

She glanced up. Met his gaze. Didn’t seem all that surprised to see him there, again, uninvited.

“We have to talk.” He’d never been much for pretty words, and this time was no different.

Pulling her knees to her chest, Annie wrapped her arms around them and nodded.

He’d come back to tell her that he’d misspoken earlier. That he couldn’t father her child. For all the obvious reasons. And for one she would have no way of knowing.

Contrary to what her brother, Cole, thought, Blake didn’t fit her criteria. First and foremost, Annie was looking for a man who was emotionally stable. Strong.

And Blake Smith was no such thing.

SHE TRIED TO LOOK AT HIM, to face life head-on. But instead she could only stare at the rainbow mural painted on the wall opposite the hand-carved wooden crib she’d found in a little shop outside of Waco.

“We need to decide how we’re going to go about doing this.”

Blake’s words were so matter-of-fact, so ludicrous, when she considered that they hadn’t seen each other in two years, and before that had been separated for four. And were now, with barely a hello, discussing sharing their sperm and eggs.

She wasn’t going to sleep with him. She couldn’t.

“Have you changed your mind?”

His question made her think.

“Because if you’ve decided you don’t want a baby after all, I’d be—”

“No!” She’d not meant to speak so sharply. “I want the baby.”

More than anything. She was completely sure of that.

“You just don’t want me to be the father.” He’d always been a smart man.

And had managed to miss such key things at the same time.

“I didn’t expect you to say yes.” Which wasn’t quite the same thing. But close enough.

“You have someone else in mind?”

She wanted to lie. Wished she could truthfully say yes. “No.”

“But you want to find someone else.”

Chin high, she stared up at him. “Don’t you want that, too? In all honesty?”

Blake’s hesitation made her heart miss a beat. He’d disappeared on her six years ago. And run out again an hour ago.

“You could end up with a man who fit all the criteria and seemed nice, but was rough when it came right down to it….”

Or what? A man who made such exquisite love that he brought tears to her eyes?

Even though he never told her that he loved her.

“And contracts are only as binding as a judge decides they are. Whatever judge is looking at them at the time the parties are in court. This guy might change his mind sometime down the road and sue for parenting rights. He could get a sympathetic judge, and then—”

“Blake.” She couldn’t sit here and listen to this. “Don’t you think I’ve considered all the pros and cons of such a decision? A hundred times over?”

He knew her. As did everyone else in the tiny town she’d been born and raised in. Annie Kincaid was careful about everything she did.

When he remained silent, staring down at her as if she were a cross between a princess and a toad, she continued. “I don’t want you helping me out of guilt.”

“I’m not the one who remarried. Or chose husband number two over husband number one.”

She deserved that. At least in part. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t already said to herself at least once a day since his return.

“I’m sorry.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “That was unfair and uncalled for.”

“Cole’s crazy, Blake. And this idea of his was out of line. Just forget I ever asked. I’m going to tell my little brother to mind his own business and then I’ll get on with the business of living my own life.”

She had no idea why she was holding her breath. She just needed Blake to go.

“I can’t forget it.”

“Why not?”

“I have no idea.”

She couldn’t get away from the honesty in his reply. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Little fingers of some long forgotten feeling crept through Annie’s lower parts. Had they just decided to make a baby? Together?

Flushed with heat, she wanted to jump up, move around, away. And instead, she couldn’t do anything but stare at him.

And remember.

Blake’s kiss, his taste had always been enough to unhinge her. His arms had offered her a unique mixture of strength and tenderness, providing a sense of safety, but never a feeling of confinement. And when his long legs were wrapped around hers…

“I want to be very clear up front.”

Annie glanced up, realizing that Blake had been talking to her. He’d shed his suit jacket sometime between his earlier visit and this one. Loosened his tie.

He looked tired.

And lonely?

“Up front?” she asked, swallowing when the words got stuck in her throat.

“I said I have a couple of stipulations.”

So that’s what she’d missed. Annie nodded, listening. Trying to focus.

“First, I’m not going to sign any contract that takes away my right to be a father to my own child.”

Walls rose, and Annie found it hard to continue listening; managed to do so only by assuring herself that as soon as he finished talking she was going to tell him that there was no deal.

“I’ll sign a contract that gives you custody of the child, that makes you the primary parent, but I want to be known to him or her, and to have visitation rights.”

Not as bad as she’d first thought. He was peering over at her, as though waiting for a response. Her nod was jerky at best.

“Second, it must be understood that this agreement in no way initiates any resurrection of a personal relationship between the two of us.”

That one was easy. “I agree completely.”

Head turned slightly, he gave her that assessing look that had always made her nervous.

“I mean it, Annie.”

Like she didn’t? “You’re the one who pointed out that I stayed with husband number two,” she blurted, before she had time to edit her words.

“I’m not a demonstrative guy. Never have been. You need demonstrations of affection. Hand holding and romance and esoteric promises.”

I love you would have been nice.

“I hurt you once. And I’ll live with the regret for the rest of my life. I can’t risk doing that again.”

“Blake…” She stood as she prepared to make her point. “You’re preaching to the converted here. The feelings I had for you died a long time ago. But even if they hadn’t, even if they somehow returned, I would never, ever go back to you.”