One Night, So Pregnant!(45)

Her breath rattled out, the ragged pants making her sound like a sixty a day smoker. ‘This isn’t happening. Not again,’ she said, forcing the words out past the riot of sensations making her legs shake, her fingers tremble.

‘Why not? It’s safe, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, but that’s not the point.’

‘What is the point, then?’ he said, the smile gone. ‘You want this as much as I do.’ His hand cupped her breast, the thumb brushing over the iron-hard peak. ‘Or your nipple wouldn’t be so hard I can feel it through your bra.’

‘I’m not denying it!’ She dragged in a breath, knocked his hand away from her yearning flesh, stunned by the unbelievable cheek of the man. How had this suddenly become her fault? ‘You’ve been avoiding me for three weeks, Nate. Which means you don’t just get to waltz back in here and pick up where we left off without an explanation.’

‘Why not? If it’s what we both want?’

‘So you don’t deny it, then?’ she replied, her jaw dropping at the knuckle-headed, testosterone-led response. How much of a pushover did he think she was?

He swore softly and thrust a hand through his hair, stepping back until his stiff back bumped against the doorway. ‘I needed a little time, to figure out what’s the best way to go about this...this...’ he waved his palm, as if grasping for a suitable word ‘...this thing we’ve got going on. I didn’t want you getting any ideas.’

‘Oh, right! Well, that’s perfectly fine, then!’ Her voice rose to a shout, indignation fast giving way to temper. ‘So you get to treat me like I don’t exist for three weeks, while you decide how this thing is going to work out. What about me?’ She drilled her forefinger into his chest. ‘Why don’t I get a say?’

His brows drew down, as if he were struggling with the concept.

‘And what ideas exactly?’ But she didn’t need to ask, because she already knew. Had known the minute he’d shut her out in the Jeep three weeks ago.

Her fingers balled into a fist. And she had to remind herself that she was a grown woman and that socking him on the jaw right now would probably not be all that helpful. Even if she really, really wanted to.

‘I poured my heart out to you in that Jeep,’ she said, soldiering on when she saw him flinch. This needed to be said, whether he wanted to hear it or not. ‘And you told me things about yourself that made me realise...’ She trailed off. She didn’t want to make the connection they’d shared sound cheesy or false. But she wanted him to know things had changed, that her feelings weren’t simple any more. ‘That made me realise you’re a lot more complicated than I gave you credit for.’

‘Complicated?’ He spat the word out as if it were an insult, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. ‘Complicated how?’

‘Complicated the way everyone’s complicated, you dope,’ she said, losing patience with him. ‘But just because I appreciated knowing those things about your past, and I appreciated you listening to what I had to say about my rocky relationship with my dad, I do not expect this to lead to anything more than what we agreed on. Believe me...’ she curved her hand round her belly, pictured that morning’s image on the monitor—and let the rush of pure, uncomplicated love blindside her again ‘...I don’t need any more emotional upheavals in my life right now. I simply haven’t got the time or the space for them. And it’s really rather conceited of you to assume that just because we shared a few home truths about our pasts, I’d suddenly start getting ideas about us.’ She planted her hands on her hips. ‘I happen to value my independence just as much as you do, Buster.’

She glared at him, bracing herself for him to say something crass. But as the keening cry of a gull broke the silence he dropped his chin to his chest, heaved a sigh.

When he looked back up, a slow, self-deprecating smile had lifted his lips.

‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured, and then his thumb stroked down her cheek, the soft contact making her heart contract. ‘I guess I freaked out a little.’

‘A little?’ she said, incredulously, but relief had eased the knot of tension in her gut. She didn’t want to fight with him any more. It was exhausting, but, more than that, she’d finally matured enough to realise that fighting never really solved anything. ‘So why did you freak out like that?’ she asked. ‘Because I don’t recall going down on one knee and begging for a commitment from you.’

He hitched his shoulder, buried one hand in the pocket of his trousers, and avoided her gaze. ‘I’ve never told anyone that stuff before.’ His eyes lifted to hers and she could see the genuine confusion in them. ‘It spooked me. I couldn’t figure out why I’d told you all that. And why it felt okay.’