A Baby for the Billionaire(10)
That’s life. It’s the way it should be. It shouldn’t bother you to picture her with a husband.
But it did.
She’s your friend. You made that decision years ago. You can’t think about her any other way.
She glanced up to see him staring at her. “He seems pretty healthy, but I think a doctor should be our first stop today,” she said.
“Agreed.” He knew nothing about his son. At least a clean bill of health would be a starting point.
“And he needs a name,” she said, wiggling her fingers to catch the baby’s attention.
Again, the breath froze in his lungs. A name. He’d struggled all night to think of a fitting one and nothing had clicked.
“Is there a family name you wanted to pass down?” she asked.
He swallowed back the bile in his throat. “No.” The word was said with too much vehemence, causing Clara to arch a questioning brow.
“Have you ever heard a name you particularly liked?”
“I was never the type to daydream about baby names.”
“No,” she said, her eyes on her charge. “Me, neither.”
“What would you name him?”
That earned him a glare. “I am not naming your son.”
He held up his hands in peace. “I was just asking for suggestions.”
Sighing, she looked back at the baby. “I don’t know. There are the old standards. Andrew, Alex, Matthew, all totally acceptable.”
“And boring.”
“John, Luke, Sam?”
“Dull, tedious, tiresome.”
“You know there are whole books dedicated to baby names. Go buy one and insult it instead.”
He dropped to the carpet next to her. “We can’t keep calling him ‘baby.’”
She chewed on her lower lip the way she did when she was thinking. He’d half thought her lips would be permanently bruised from college, but it’d never been the case.
No, they were as full and pink as they’d ever been.
Beautiful. Just like Clara was.
Danger. Don’t think about her that way.
She was his oldest friend and therefore off-limits. It was a promise he’d made to himself before he’d even dropped out of college. If he were lucky enough to keep her in his life, he’d never screw it up by wishing for anything more. He knew the pain and regret that lay down that road, and he never wanted that for them. Far better to be her friend than lose her entirely.
She stopped gnawing on her lip and looked up at him, a hesitance in her eyes.
“What?” he asked.
“I’ve always liked Hunter. And it kinda works well with your own name. You know, a little symmetry to link you two.”
He paused, considering. He didn’t hate it on principle as he had the others. And he also liked how it fit with his own name. This child had few enough connections to him as it was. But a name was permanent, no matter how the rest of the childhood unfolded. They’d always have a tie.
“I like it,” he said. “Hunter Beckett. It works.”
Her smile lit up her face before regret crossed her expressive features. “Hell. I just named your child, didn’t I?”
“Looks that way.”
She sighed, long and hard. “Do you have a single conventional bone in your body?”
He glanced down at the baby he’d never known he had. “Doesn’t seem like it.”
“Well, at least you’ll benefit,” she said to Hunter. “Yes, you will. When your daddy drives you crazy you can run to Auntie Clara and tell me all about it. I can’t wait till you’re old enough to commiserate.”
“I can see I’ll have to watch in case you twist his mind against me.”
“Yep. I’ll teach him to follow schedules, to return calls, and to eat meals while he does his inventing.” She picked up the baby and bounced him in her arms. “And condoms. I’m going to teach you all about using condoms, little guy.” He winced. “It wasn’t quite like—”
She leveled him with a bland stare. “I know how babies are made. Do you?”
“I might not always be as careful as I should be.”
She snorted.
“But my partners always told me they were on the pill.”
Her brows rose. “Partners?”
Way to blow it, Beckett.
“I just meant—”
“Who is Hunter’s mother?”
Maybe you’ll luck out and the floor will open and swallow you whole.
“There may be a few candidates.”
“Are you kidding me?” She set Hunter on his blanket, gurgling happily, and stood. “You don’t even know who your own baby mama is?”
“The math alone would suggest it’s likely—”
She raised her hand sharply, cutting him off. “You’re supposed to be an eccentric nerd. Where the hell did you get this much game?”