Pursued(21)

"I get that. I do. And we've got time to figure everything out. But I want you to know that you aren't in this alone anymore."

"I know."

"No, I don't think you do," he told her. "I don't just want to be a  part of the baby's life after he's born. I want to start now. You're  pregnant and, I don't know, pregnant women need things, right? If you  do, I want to be there to help you out."

For long seconds, Desi didn't say anything. Which was fine, because she  didn't reject his words outright. But the longer she kept him waiting,  the more anxious he got. He'd already threatened her once today about  the baby. He didn't want her to think he was doing it again.

But just as he opened his mouth to explain, she said, "I'm okay with that."

"You are?"

"You don't have to sound so surprised," she said with a laugh.

"I'm not. It's just …  I was a real ass about the baby earlier and I'm  sorry. I don't want you to think this is a part of what happened before  because it's not."                       
       
           



       

"Hey, you're the one who keeps talking about a clean slate. I think that's supposed to work both ways, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I guess it is."

She nodded, then took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. "So, you want to be a part of the pregnancy?"

"Absolutely." He thought back to when he was in the park earlier, to  the father and the son who'd been at the swings when he was walking by.  He wanted that, more than he'd ever imagined possible, and he was going  to do whatever he had to do to get it.

"Okay. I have a doctor's appointment next week. You could come to that if you want."

"I do want to. But I want more than that, as well."

"More?" She looked confused. "That's pretty much all there is at this  point. A doctor's appointment once a month and then, when I'm closer to  my due date, one every two weeks. And, I should probably warn you, they  aren't very exciting appointments, you know? I pee on a stick, I listen  to the baby's heartbeat-which, I admit, is the best part. Sometimes the  doctor takes my blood. But that's it."

"It sounds pretty good to me."

"That's because you aren't the one getting stuck with needles," she told him.

"Well, thank God," he said, adding an exaggerated eye roll for effect. "I'm a crier."

"You know, I can see that about you," she said with a laugh. "You've got that look about you."

He lifted a brow at her. "I look like a crybaby?"

"You look … sensitive."

That startled a laugh out of him. "Well, I've got to say, that's the first time anyone's ever told me that."

"That's because you keep your sensitive side hidden behind all that charm."

She said it as a joke, but again, there was something about the look in  her eye that told him she saw more than he wanted her to. More than he  wanted anyone to. His whole life he'd been the joker, the charmer, the  easygoing one who countered Marc's intensity. He'd been the one who  defused their father's temper when things started to go bad and the one  who stepped between him and Marc when things did go bad. And he did it  all with a smile.

He'd spent years honing the persona, years perfecting it until everyone  who knew him believed he was that guy. Hell, most of the time he  believed it himself. The idea that Desi saw through the mask, that she  saw what no one else had ever bothered to look for, rocked him to his  core.

Which was the only excuse he had for what happened next.

From that moment in the park, when he'd decided definitively what he  wanted, he'd been working toward this moment. Everything he'd done since  then had been geared toward making Desi trust him, geared toward making  her want to go along with his suggestion. He'd even had a plan about  how to broach the idea.

But as he sat here, reeling from what should have been a simple  throwaway observation but somehow wasn't, he wanted nothing so much as  to change the subject. To get the focus off him. So he blurted out the  first thing that came to mind, not caring-until it was too late-that  doing so blew his whole plan sky high.

"I want you to move in with me," he told her straight out, not even bothering to cushion the blow.

"Move in with you?" She looked at him as if he was crazy. "You can't be serious."

"I'm totally serious."

"You aren't."

He waited until the waiter stopped by to freshen their waters and drop  off dessert before he said, "I am." Then he reached over and forked up a  bite of cheesecake and held it out to her.

She didn't take it right away. Instead, she studied him and studied the  bite of cheesecake while the second hand wound its way around his  watch.

"Maybe you are," she finally said, leaning forward to take the bite off  his fork. "But you shouldn't be. We don't even know each other."

She'd gotten a tiny dab of whipped cream on his very favorite part of  her upper lip and he wanted nothing more than to lean forward and lick  it off. The only thing holding him back was the fact that he knew it  wouldn't score him any points right now-and it sure as hell wouldn't  help him convince her that he wasn't angling for a  roommate-with-benefits relationship …

"But it makes perfect sense. What if something happens and you need me-"

"I didn't realize you were a doctor."

"That's not what I meant."

"No, but if I need you, I can call you." She held up her phone. "That's  what these really nifty smartphones are for. That is, of course,  provided you actually pick up this time."                       
       
           



       

She said it as if it was a joke, but there was an underlying bite to it  that he'd have to be an idiot to miss. "Exactly my point. If we were  living together, you wouldn't have to call me. I'd just be there."

She sighed heavily, then said, "Nic, look, I know this whole baby thing  has thrown you for a loop today. Believe me, I get that. I've known for  months and it still freaks me out. But that doesn't mean we have to do  anything crazy. I understand that this is your gut reaction. But why  don't you take a few days and really think about it. Make sure being  involved is what you really want-"

"It is what I want. I'm not the kind of guy who runs from his responsibilities, Desi."

"But see, that shouldn't be why you decide to stick around. Only  because the baby is your responsibility. You should be a part of his  life because you want to be, not because you feel like you have to be."

"Now you're twisting my words. Of course I want to be a part of his life-"

"Just listen to me for a minute, okay?" It was her turn to reach across  the table and put her hand on his. "You need to seriously think about  this before you do anything rash. Because if you want out, it would be  better if you walked away now rather than in four months or four years,  when you decide you're bored."

"Why are you so sure I'm going to walk away?" he asked.

"Why are you so sure you're not?"

"And we're back to trading questions." He couldn't quite keep the frustration out of his voice.

"We are," she agreed with a small smile. "But they're important questions. And you didn't answer mine."

"Neither did you." He caught her gaze, held it, then refused to look away.

Desi blinked first, glancing up at the twinkling lights that lined the  nearby windows. "I just think you need to think about things."

"I have thought about them."

"For a few hours!"

"Sometimes a few hours are all you need."

She rolled her eyes. "You're being completely irrational."

Her voice rose on the last couple of words, and that's when it hit him  just how upset she was by this whole discussion. Oh, she was fronting,  pretending she was amused and exasperated, but there was something else  underneath it all. Something dark, and maybe a little afraid.

It was the fear that gave him pause, that had him sitting back in his  chair, studying her as he tried to figure out what made her tick. He  didn't have much luck, which was frustrating, but on this one small  point, he would concede she was right. They didn't know each other, and  until they did, he couldn't get a bead on her.

Which was only one more reason for them to move in together, he  decided. Nothing broke down barriers like the forced intimacy of  cohabitation. Instinct told him not to mention that to Desi, however,  because it might send her running for the hills.

"What's it going to take," he asked, when the silence between them  moved from uncomfortable to unbearable, "for you to agree to move in  with me?"