"You did?" That surprised him for some reason.
"Yes. She was just so nasty and not only did she claim you're her boyfriend, she said she slept with Ryder, and implied it was while he was still married to Suz. I saw red, Elec, and I stooped to showing her text messages from you. I'm sorry."
"You got jealous, didn't you?" He grinned, despite the gravity of the situation.
"Yes. She pissed me off, acting like you were with her, when I happen to know that you spend all your spare time with me."
He kissed the top of her head. "Yes, I do."
"Can they do paternity tests before babies are born?"
"I don't know. But I guess our lawyer needs to look into it. And shouldn't she have to prove she is even pregnant?"
"Yes, I'm sure, but it will take a few days to sort through and report all that information. In the meantime, she gets to say whatever she wants."
Elec didn't like the timing, but he wanted Tamara to know, even before proof of a paternity test, that he was absolutely convinced this couldn't be his child. That Crystal couldn't have even somehow stolen his sperm, because he didn't have any.
"I need to tell you something," he said.
"You did sleep with her?" Tamara asked.
"No! I really didn't. But even if for some reason I had lost my mind and slept with her, that baby still couldn't be mine." Elec swallowed and dropped his eyes to her lap, where the sheet was bunched up in her fingers. He forced himself to look back up and meet her gaze.
"Tamara, I can't have children. I'm sterile."
"What? How do you know that?"
"I got tested at nineteen. I'm shooting blanks, babe."
"Oh." She blinked a few times, then she reached out for his hand. "Oh, Elec, I'm sorry.
That really bothers you, doesn't it?"
He nodded, a lump in his throat. "Yeah. I thought I could be okay with it, but it's hard. I like kids," he said simply.
"I know you do," she said softly, tears in her eyes. "You are amazing with mine."
"That's why I dated the women I did, you know? Because they were not the settling-down kind. I figured why fall in love with a woman who wants to have kids, then have her dump me when I can't give them to her?"
Tamara saw the pain on Elec's face that he was trying valiantly to shrug off and she wanted to weep for him. She could see the logic, the horrible, empty logic to what he was saying.
But to deny himself love? And what kind of woman would give up a man like Elec simply because he couldn't give her biological children? Hadn't anyone ever heard of adoption?
But then, that was easy for her to say. She had her own birth children already.
Which was why she and Elec were even more perfect for each other than she had realized the day before. She touched his cheek, loving the rough morning stubble there. "If you loved a woman, she would be a total idiot if she let you go."
"Yeah?" he said, and he looked so hopeful, so earnest, that Tamara kissed him.
"Yeah. And you love me, and I'm not an idiot. I'm not letting you go. Ever."
"No?"
"No."
Elec dug his hand into her hair and pressed his lips to her forehead, hard. "Tamara, would it be crazy if I asked you to marry me right this minute?"
Her heart just about stopped. "Why don't you ask me and see what happens?"
He pulled back and stared at her with those rich brown eyes she could get lost in. Hell, she had gotten lost in them, the very first night she'd met him.
"Will you marry me?"
"Yes," she said simply, without thinking it through, without questioning it, without worrying. It was what she wanted, and that was all that mattered.
"Corny as it sounds, you've just made me the happiest man alive," he said, and he kissed her.
Tamara loved his kisses, loved the way his mouth covered hers so confidently, so tenderly.
Neither of them had bothered to dress after sex, and his bare arms wrapped around her, strong and masculine. Tamara stroked his chest and sighed.
Damn, she did love him. And now she was going to be his wife.
Just the thought had her toes curling.
But they had a problem to deal with, the sooner the better.
"Okay," she said, pulling away and touching his lips. "Reality rears its ugly head. We have to deal with Crystal's little announcement."
"How do we do that?"
"This is what I think we should do," Tamara said. She just absolutely refused to let Crystal have even one more day to malign Elec, nor one more day to interfere with their happiness.
"We're going to come out as a couple and deny Crystal's accusations."
"You would do that?"
"Of course. We present a united front. And while we're doing that, you have your lawyers looking into Crystal's background, see if she's been treated by an OB/GYN, see if she has filed any papers, see if we can get a paternity test done before birth, all of that. But I think if I'm standing next to you, your brother, your sister, your father, and we're all saying it isn't true, it will set off alarms. The media will start scrutinizing her story closer."
"Shouldn't I just have my lawyer say it's not true? I don't actually have to do interviews, do I?"
"I don't know. Let's call your sister. She's the expert." Tamara squeezed his hand. "But no matter, I'm here with you. And if you have to do interviews, you'll do them with me standing next to you."
ELEC needed a beer. Hell, he needed a whiskey. He had retreated to his coach with Tamara, Eve, and Evan, and they looked almost as lousy as he felt.
"Dude, that was awful," Evan said in sympathy. "Can I get you a beer?"
"Jack Daniels," Elec said. He had just suffered through reading a statement to the media, then a round of grueling questions before Eve had pulled the plug on the reporters. He was feeling battered and bruised and disgusted with Crystal, the gossip-hungry media, and himself for even going out with the woman in the first place.
Evan glanced at him in surprise. "Are you serious?"
"Oh, yeah." Elec collapsed on the couch, and pulled Tamara down next to him. He needed to feel her hand in his. "How do you think it went?" he asked Eve.
"I actually think it went fine. The statement I wrote was neither defensive nor unsympathetic. Saying you feel for Crystal's situation and wish the best for her and her child, but that you are one hundred percent certain you are not the father, was the only tactic you could really take. You can't say much more than that and you don't want to sling mud back."
"I blew it when they started asking me questions." He had never been able to get his precise meaning across with words, and in his determination to make sure they understood the truth, he was pretty sure he had rambled. But it had helped tremendously to know that Tamara was standing behind his right shoulder through the entire thing, silently supporting him.
"No, you didn't," Tamara said, squeezing his hand. "You did just fine."
"Thank you," he told her with a smile. "But you're biased. Eve will tell me the truth." He looked at his sister, who was pacing, as usual. "What do you think?"
"The first few questions were fine, and it was awesome that Tamara was there with you and you got to introduce her. I think that leant credence to your clean image. But then you got a little overwhelmed, so I just pulled the plug. All in all, not bad considering how much you hate these and the shitty nature of the interview."
High praise from his sister. "Thanks."
Evan handed him a shot of Jack and raised a second glass. "Cheers, man. We'll get you through this."
"Thanks, Bro." Elec tossed it back, and let the whiskey race down and settle into his gut, spreading out in fiery tendrils. That was better.
"How come no one offered me a shot?" Eve asked.
Trust his sister to get ticked off. Eve never liked to feel like she was being left behind or slighted.
"Do you want one?" Evan asked, not really answering the question of why he hadn't offered her one in the first place.
Most women would say no at that point, that it was the principle of the thing, but Elec could have bet money that Eve would say yes, and she did.
"Yes." Her chin came out and she stuck her hand on her hip. She was wearing a summer floral dress that hit right above the knee and showed off her thin frame and her toned shoulders.
It struck Elec as funny that she was going to insist on shooting whiskey at two in the afternoon dressed like an ad for Working Woman.