The Baby Arrangement (A Winston Brother's Novel #1)

by J. L. Beck

  We need to talk first, come to some type of agreement that saves us both in the event this whole relationship thing doesn’t work out. I step back with a sigh, watching as disappointment flickers in her eyes.

  I’m quick to reassure her, “I know, Fallon, man do I fucking know. You don’t have the first clue how hard it is to let you go right after seeing you in that lingerie... but we need to talk before we rush into anything. I made reservations at the place you love downtown. Let’s go have dinner, relax, and just enjoy being together for a bit. Then we can come back here, or go to my place, and figure out where we go next. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your offer all week.”

  I’m not about to tell her that my dick is sore due to the amount of jacking off I’ve done this week while “thinking” about her offer. She’d never look me in the eye again.

  “There is no offer, Reed. I was drunk. It was a lapse in judgment on my part and one that will never happen again.” She says the words like she’s trying to convince us both that what she offered wasn’t something she wanted too.

  The fact that she’s trying to act like she doesn’t want this as much as I do surprisingly hurts. It shouldn’t, because I know she’s lying, but I’ve been imagining her stomach swollen with my child since the moment Ryker put the thought in my mind. I’m not about to let her back out now. This is going to happen. I just have to convince her that we can do this without screwing up our friendship. “Come on, Fallon. We both know your offer was genuine. You can’t use the ‘I was drunk’ excuse. Besides, ‘a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts’ - isn’t that what they always say?”

  “I shouldn’t have said anything, and I’ll know better next time… now can we drop this because I’m hungry and I don’t feel like arguing the rest of the evening about something that isn’t going to happen.” She reaches for the dress lying on the bed, and before I realize what I’m doing I grip her chin, forcing her eyes to meet mine.

  Her warm breath touches my lips and the need to kiss her again almost overtakes me. Her eyes dilate and I know she feels it too; the need, the desire probably pooling between her thighs. Her panties are probably soaked, and I can’t wait to see just how wet she can get for me. For now, though, I’ll leave her with a few parting words.

  “One thing you need to realize is that this is happening, Fallon. You’re mine and I’m done denying what we both want. Now, go put on that hot as fuck dress and get your ass out into the living room so I can treat you to dinner.”

  When I release her I can see she’s trembling, and I’m struck with the need to give her an orgasm, one that will hold her over until we finish eating. I want it so badly it hurts, but I won’t, because if I have to eat dinner with blue balls she can suffer through it with me. Eventually we’ll both get what we want. It’s the getting there that’s going to be tough.

  Exiting the bedroom before I do something stupid like give into that need. I clench and unclench my fists like I’m holding stress balls, like they can curb this incessant need I’m feeling.

  Yeah right…

  I haven’t had sex in weeks, simply because I can’t stop picturing Fallon and I together every time I close my eyes, and after calling out her name when I came during sex with another woman ,I knew it was time to give up sex with randoms for a while.

  Roaming around Fallon’s small apartment, I take in the light decor and cleanliness of it. Pictures of her with her parents sit on a mantle above a fireplace that looks like it’s never been used and I trace over one of the photos with my finger. She was young, maybe six, and they’re standing in front of the house they owned before they moved in next to my family. This photo was probably taken a couple days before we met. She was beautiful then, and I wonder how I missed it. When I think about all that Fallon’s endured, losing her parents, fighting tooth and nail to get through college, and now everything with me, it makes my heart ache for her.

  If she was smart she would find someone else. She wouldn’t have needed to offer to give me a baby, to give us a baby, but now that she did I can’t stop myself from wanting her. I can’t stop myself from taking her and giving us both what we want.

  A few seconds later, her bedroom door clicks open and I turn around, my breath hitching in my throat as I take her in. If I thought she was hot wearing barely anything, I was poorly mistaken. She’s beyond fucking gorgeous in the dress she’s wearing right now.

  It hugs her lush curves and shows of her tits, and when she twirls I swear I see one of her ass cheeks playing peek-a-boo beneath the dress.

  I almost tell her to go back in the bedroom and take it off, but instead I walk over to her and whisper the words I’ve been wanting to say all evening.

  “Let’s go, sweetheart, before I do something crazy like fuck you against the wall.”

  She doesn’t make a sound, just stares at me in wonder before turning on her black heels and heading for the door like a good girl.

  My girl.

  Fuck I’m screwed.

  I’m. So. Screwed.

  My body quivers with need from nothing but his words. He speaks to something deep inside of me, and I can’t get the look on his face when he saw me in this dress out of my head. The words he spoke to me right before we left the house play on repeat and I rub my legs together, trying to assuage the ache between them.

  I pull at the hem of my dress as we drive in silence. It’s killing me not to say something about him fucking me. Part of me wants to tell him how badly I want him to while the other part of me, the more rational side of my brain, says it’s a bad idea to cross such a boundary.

  It’s like Mel said earlier. Friends can’t fuck. It’s been proven again and again by so many people. If you fuck your friend, you’re not really friends anymore. Instead, you’re in that strange gray area between lovers and friends with benefits. It’s the place where friendships go to die and I don’t want what Reed and I share to end up that way. I almost sigh from the stress this thing with him is putting on me.

  “Is everything okay? You look kinda sick.” He looks over at me in concern from the driver’s seat of his Mercedes SLR Mclaren. It’s a lot fancier than I care for, but it’s what makes him happy and his dad went through a lot to help him find it. That’s all that matters to me.

  I suck in a breath, but it doesn’t ease the knot tightening in my belly. Reed’s scent is all over the car and now it’s embedded in my skin. I can taste him with every breath I take, making it even harder for me not to say to hell with friends and just jump him.

  Shaking the thought away, I peer up at him from under my lashes. “I’m fine. Just hungry, I think.” I’m totally lying. What I’m hungry for isn’t on the menu tonight, and may never be.

  Reed smiles like he can read my mind and knows exactly what I didn’t say out loud as he pulls the sports car into a parking spot far away from the entrance, probably to avoid door dings and scratches before he puts it into park and kills the engine.

  “Fallon…” He turns to me, the expression on his face unreadable. The inside of the car is dark except for a small sliver of light that shines in through the windshield from the lamp post above us. His eyes are dark, and a shiver involuntarily runs down my spine as he speaks,. “I wasn’t lying when I said I want to fuck you, so please remember that when we go inside and you walk around, because I might not be able to control what fuckers look at you, but I can control what you do, and there will be consequences for your actions tonight.”

  I gasp, unsure where this side of Reed is coming from. He’s never talked to me like this before, and I don’t know how to respond. Do I fight with him? Tell him I’m my own person and he can’t control me? I can’t deny that what he just said heightens my arousal. The possibilities are endless when it comes to consequences, and I’ve read enough romance novels that I can come up with some that have me imagining what might happen if he gets jealous.

  Reed’s attention turns to my restless legs and he groans, leaning toward me like he’s about t
o kiss me again, but he doesn’t. Before I can decide if that’s what I want, he’s out of the car and coming around to help me out.

  The cool air feels nice against my heated skin and I suck fresh non-Reed scented air into my lungs the moment I step outside of the car. He rests one hand on the small of my back as we make our way through the parking lot to the entrance. He’s so handsome that woman stop to stare at him, even when they’re with their own man.

  The thought that he could be out tomorrow night with any of these women comes out of nowhere and I have to force myself to tamp my jealousy down. Jealousy isn’t an emotion I should feel when it comes to a friend, to friendship in general.

  Reed opens the restaurant door for me, and we’re greeted by the host who knows us by name. Sally, an older lady who’s worked at Lenny’s the Italian Bistro since we were kids, smiles at me. She’s beaming with joy and I almost wish I could say I feel the same way.

  “Just the two of you this evening?” she asks, grabbing menus even though she knows we don’t need them. We’ve been coming here to eat since we were ten. Our parents used to bring us all together as one big group every month, that is until mine died.

  “Yes, just us tonight.” Reed must sense my sudden melancholy because he answers for me, and she ushers us off to a table in the back. It’s mostly candlelight eating, which has a romantic feel to it that I truly love. Reed pulls my chair out and helps me into it before taking his seat across from me. The perfect gentlemen. The perfect everything.

  And he’s not even mine.

  “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asks, as the waitress comes up to take our orders. I order a glass of wine, and Reed requests a beer before sending her off to get our drinks, and turning his attention back to me.

  “Do you remember when we would come here as kids? Before my parents died?” I almost grimace at the question. I rarely talk about my parents, no matter how much I miss them, or hate myself for not being in the car with them the day they died. The pain of losing them is just as fresh today as it was the day it happened. Anyone who says the pain hurts less every day is a liar.

  Reed nods, giving me a small smile that says he knows I’m hurting. “Of course. Your parents were my favorite people aside from you to be around.” He winks, trying his best to ease the sad energy out of our conversation.

  “Being here makes me miss them. I don’t talk about it, but sometimes I miss them so much I almost can’t stand it.” I shrug, fiddling with my napkin until the waitress returns with my wine. We place our orders of the same thing we always get: lasagna, two side salads and cheesy garlic bread.

  An awkward silence falls between us after she leaves. I hate it. Usually, Reed and I can, and do, talk about everything and anything, but since I made that stupid offer it’s like we don’t know how to be around each other. I feel like an idiot, and he doesn't know how to tell me he’s not interested. See? We didn’t even need sex to screw up our friendship.

  I’m staring down at the table, trying to make myself as small as I can, when Reed’s hand covers mine. He squeezes it gently, saying my name softly. I look up at him, and the look on his face startles me. It’s so tender, full of the affection he has for me. One side of his mouth tips up in a smile, and he nods, looking down at our hands. “It’s a good thing that’s a cloth napkin.” He’s having a hard time keeping the smile from widening, I can tell.

  I look down too, and when I look back up at him, my brows furrowing in confusion. “Huh?”

  “With the way you’re twisting it, there’d only be a pile of paper if it wasn’t.” His voice is full of mirth, but he manages not to laugh outright when I blush. My cheeks feel so hot, and I know they’re bright freaking red. I drop the napkin immediately, sitting up straight and dropping my hands to my lap instead. Reed opens his mouth to say something, probably to reassure me, but before he can a shadow crosses the table and we both look up when a familiar voice says my name.

  “Fallon? Is that you?”

  Squinting in the dim light, I try to see if it’s really who I think it is. “Charlie?” I say his name as a question, even though it’s obviously him.

  “What are you doing here?” I want to slap myself for asking yet another dumb question but I don’t. I just stare up at him, awaiting his response.

  He rubs a hand across the back of his neck and looks a little sheepish. “Uh...I’m here with my mom.” His head turns and mine follows, searching the room until I see her. Charlie’s mother is awesome, and she loved me when we were together.

  The last time I saw her, though, she acted like I didn’t exist. I guess breaking up with her son made her not love me anymore. “I saw you over here, so I just wanted to come say hi.”

  Charlie is just as attractive as Reed, but in more of an athletic way. They’re complete opposites which is probably why I went for him in the first place.

  “Hi.” I smile up at him warmly, hating I hurt him the way I did. It was better to break things off when I finally admitted to myself that he wasn’t who I wanted to be with. The relationship wasn’t ever going to go any further, so it was nicer to end it and let him find someone else. Obviously that hasn’t happened yet since he’s here with his mom.

  Reed clears his throat, pulling me from my awkward conversation. My eyes lock on his face, and from the glare he’s giving Charlie, I can tell he isn’t pleased. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He doesn’t usually act this way. He liked Charlie when we were dating, so what’s his problem now? I kick him under the table, but he doesn’t even flinch. I wish these shoes were pointier because I can’t say or do anything else without it being obvious.

  “Oh. Hi, Reed.” Charlie greets him with an anxious laugh. I glare at Reed the way he’s glaring at Charlie and pray he gets the hint.

  “We’re on a date, dude. You could’ve waited till later,” Reed growls, seeming more alpha than usual. Charlie looks down at me, giving me a half smile. He’s non-confrontational like me, so he’ll more than likely let anything that Reed says go, but that’s not the point.

  Even in the dim lighting, I can see Charlie turn red. He’s embarrassed, making me feel even worse. “Oh...uh…” he starts to stammer, looking everywhere but at us. I’m going to kill Reed. He finally looks back at me, doing everything he can to avoid Reed’s pissed off stare. “Sorry, Fallon. I guess I should go.”

  Part of me wants to tell him to stay just to make Reed angrier, but that’s not fair to Charlie.

  “It’s okay,” I try to reassure him. “Reed here is just being a bit cranky this evening. It was nice seeing you though. Tell your mom I said hi, okay?” I smile, as if I’m genuinely happy when deep down inside I want to scream at Reed for behaving this way.

  He might as well have pissed in a circle around me.

  The second Charlie’s out of hearing range, I turn back to him and hiss, “What was that?”

  “What was what?” His voice is all innocence, but the smirk on his face reveals the truth.

  Oh, he makes me want to scream...or kick him. Maybe both. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Reed Alan Winston. Don’t sit there acting like you’ve done nothing wrong. What did Charlie ever do to you?” I’m so angry my teeth grind together. He’s acting like he owns me.

  One of his too perfect eyebrows lifts, but at least the smirk drops off his face. Seconds tick by and Reed shrugs. “He touched you. Remember those consequences I mentioned earlier?”

  My mouth drops open, and I shriek, “He touched me?” My voice is way too loud for the quiet restaurant, and the people sitting at the table beside us are all starting to stare and exchange whispers.

  I’m too angry to care, about them, about this restaurant…

  “What does that have to do with anything? So he held my hand, kissed me, whatever. It’s not like he’s ever going to do it again. In case you haven’t noticed I, as in myself, broke it off with him.”

  Reed leans forward, and when he speaks, my entire body tightens. “I don’t giv
e a shit if he’s not going to do it again. He did it first and that’s what pisses me off.”

  He’s being ridiculous. Why is his possessive asshole act turning me on? I feel angry, but hot and cold all at once. I want him to fuck me and apologize with his body. I want to slap him and push him away, but I also want to pull him into my arms and taste his lips.

  I do none of those things. Instead I throw up my hands in exasperation because this whole thing is crazy. “Oh my God, Reed! You do realize I’m not yours, right?” No matter how much I want to be. I want him to tell me I’m wrong, that I am his, but he just stares at me like he can’t believe what I’m saying.

  We stare at each other in silence for what feels like hours, but it’s really only a minute or so, and finally, finally, Reed seems to find his voice. Just when he starts to speak, the waitress walks up to our table with our food. I want to cry, or maybe scream, because this is just my luck.

  Our eyes are locked together while she sets everything down in front of us, and I wait, extremely impatiently for her to be finished, so we can be alone again.

  She seems to sense the tension at our table and hurries to put our food down so she can leave. After making sure we don’t need anything, she rushes away and we’re left staring across the table in silence at each other once more.

  Without even blinking, Reed says,. “You may not be mine yet, but once we come to terms on this agreement that you’ve proposed ,you will be.” I wonder if he even believes what he’s saying.

  “Just because I offered to have a baby with you doesn’t mean I am yours to keep. I’m not an object, Reed. I’m a human being, and without a ring on my finger there’s nothing you can do to stop me from being with someone else.”

  I’m proud of myself for saying that. I want nothing more than to have Reed, our baby, and his ring on my finger. But, he needs to understand that if we do this, and it’s a big if right now, having his baby doesn’t mean he owns my body.