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Waking Up Married(15)

By:Mira Lyn Kelly


She blinked, trying to look away even as she felt herself     stumbling further into the intensity of Connor’s dark eyes. He thought there was     something meaningful between them? Some potential?

This wasn’t what she needed to hear.

“It has to be.” She couldn’t invest in potential again. She     didn’t have the time and she didn’t have the will. “I have a plan.”

She’d expected him to back off a step, ask what she was talking     about, but instead that single corner of his mouth turned up to the slightest     degree. As if suddenly he found himself on better footing than he’d expected.     “Yeah, but my plan’s better. Even you think so.”

She’d told him?

Her chin pulled back as she felt the sting of self-betrayal and     cursed her inner psyche.

Was nothing sacred?

Images of the laughter came back to her in a sickening rush,     and she couldn’t help but wonder if all her goals and intentions had been a part     of the joke. Only, as she looked into Connor’s eyes, some instinctive part of     her knew it wasn’t the case.

So what, then...

“Oh, my God.” Her throat closed tight, trying to strangle the     words she didn’t want to say. “Did you volunteer to be my sperm donor?”

He was tall and handsome, without any obvious festering     infections—

“No.” His brows, already drawn low over his eyes, went even     lower, obscuring what little chance she’d had to try to read a man who wasn’t     exactly an open book to begin with. “Not really. Not like you’re thinking.”

Not like she was thinking? Like what, then? she thought with a     fresh wave of panic.

Her eyes fell to the empty spot on her ring finger. He’d     married her. So maybe it wasn’t so much a donation at all. Donations were free     and clear...and this guy had already tied her down with a fairly significant     string.

He wanted dibs on her baby.

He wanted a claim.

Suddenly, her breath was coming faster than it should, and the     air working its way in and out of her lungs felt thin and useless.

“Wait, Megan. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I can tell     from your face it’s wrong. Let me explain.”

“You’re gay.” What else would a guy who looked like this be     doing with her?

“Uh...” That tilted smile was back and she knew she was     right.

“Okay, so you don’t want your parents to know? You need an heir     or something to keep your trust fund?”

“No—uh—I—uh—”

Shaking her head, she closed her eyes. “Look, Carter, either     way, it doesn’t matter. Whatever deal we might have worked out last night is     off.”

She’d been heavily intoxicated. Even if she’d signed a dozen     documents, they would never stand up. She could walk away, unless—

Her eyes shot wide as she stared up at him in horror. “Did     you...try...to get me pregnant last night?”

Connor coughed, his amused expression morphing into shock,     confusion and something she really, really didn’t want to believe was guilt no     matter how much it looked like it.

His hand came up between them, but she didn’t care if he needed     a minute to sort out his story or work through his defense. Spinning away, she     banded her arms across her abdomen, sick with the knowledge of what she’d done.     “Of all the stupid, self-sabotaging, dangerous—”

“Megan.” The way he said her name made it half plea, half     laugh.

What had she done? Even if she wasn’t pregnant, she’d had     unprotected sex with a man she didn’t know.

...patient zero...

Her stomach pitched hard. “He could have an STD,” she gasped,     her own anxiety pushing the words past her lips before she’d thought to stifle     them.

“Megan.” This time her name sounded strained coming through his     lips. As though this guy was losing his patience.

Tough. Whatever he was thinking, he’d have to put a pin in it.     She had bigger fish to fry than worrying about his patience when her best-case     scenario was not pregnant, not infected, but still having to push back her plan     by six months to ensure enough time for any STDs to show up in the screen.