Making His Baby(14)

I pick up the glass and take a long sip, relishing in the way that I am making Blake sweat. He watches me the whole time, and only when I am done and wipe my lips, do I speak.

“I need a few days to think about it,” I say simply.

“Of course,” he says, “I wouldn’t expect you to say yes to something so big right away. I want you to take this seriously.”

“But that’s not a no,” I assure him. “It’s a maybe. I just can’t make this kind of decision on a whim. You understand?”

“I do,” he relents, evidently seeing the logic in my reason. “So, I won’t put any more pressure on you, okay? In fact, I won’t mention it again for the rest of the night. How does that sound?”

“That sounds perfect. What you can do is convince me, quietly, that it’s a good idea. You know, through your actions as a gentleman and all that.”

“Who says I’m a gentleman?” He quips, that sly smile returning.

“Careful,” I respond, unable to hide my smirk.

“Right, a gentleman,” he says, coughing dramatically as he pretends to clear his throat. “So, are you ready to order?”

“Maybe,” I say as I look down at the menu. “What’s good here?”





Chapter 11


BLAKE





The two of us have just finished eating dessert. We shared a slice of chocolate cake. The cake was Carrie’s decision, and as she ordered it, I got the sense that it was a favorite of hers. I made a mental note to always have chocolate cake in the house.

She eats the final slice and sucks the cake off the spoon. The whole time, she watches me with those eyes. She knows what she is doing to me through her actions, and I can tell it gives her great pleasure. But I’m okay with it. All I can think about is what I am going to do to her later.

I have managed to avoid talking about my proposal, too, just as I had promised. And the crazy part is, it isn’t even that hard. As soon as I told her that I would no longer mention it, I didn’t. As simple as that. And by the time we ordered our food and it came out to us, the proposal was all but forgotten.

It’s a testament to how perfect we are for one another and to how well we get along. That’s why I have chosen her to be the surrogate, assuming she says yes. Not only do I think that she will make a perfect second half, I also see her as someone I won’t mind spending the next nine months around. Not to mention what happens after we have the child.

But I can’t think on that now. I watch her slowly swallow the cake, her eyes still on me, and I calculate what I have to do and say to get her up to my room. Because tonight, I am having her, much the same way she just had that cake.

“So, I told you that the food here was good,” I say as I lean back in my chair.

“And I’m very impressed. I should never have doubted you really. Is that where you disappeared to for a few minutes earlier? You were in the kitchen cooking my meal? You really are so talented.” She pats her plump lips with a napkin.

“Not tonight, no. But would you believe me if I told you I taught the chef everything she knows?”

“I wouldn’t,” she says instantly. “Although I have doubted you before, and that hasn’t worked out for me in the past. So maybe I should be inclined. And if that’s the case, then again, very well done.”

“If you think the food was good, you should see the rooms here,” I say. It is a risk, and there is a chance that she will be put off by the forwardness of my statement. But I have to take it. I have to have her.

“Is that right?” She replies with a knowing smile.

“Some say that they are even better than the food.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” she begins, pausing as she watches my face with anticipation. “You’re going to have to show me.”

I want to let out a sigh of relief, but I don’t want her to win the upper hand. I have to work even harder to not let her see how pleased I am, either. Although, I am most certainly that. Most of all, I have to work to make it appear that it is all part of my plan and that I didn’t expect any answer but the one that she gave.

“Good,” I say with a nod and a wink. “Shall we?”

I stand and hold my hand out for her to take. She takes it, gently placing her fingers in my grip. As she does, I lead her around the table and through the restaurant. A moment later, I walk her to the elevator, and a moment after that, we are on it. As it takes us up to the room, we both watch the doors in silence, and as the doors open, we both step out.

I take her hand again, directing her down the hallway to the room. As we walk, my heart beats against my chest, and I have to work to contain myself. I want to throw her up against the wall and have my way with her right now. But I don’t. Instead, I open the door to the room and direct her inside.