by Maisey Yates
Lark’s dark eyes glittered. “I’m never going to get married, so I don’t know why you even need to bother asking me.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Nothing,” she said.
“Tyler again?”
“She’s gone and he still hardly talks to me.” She paused, then clapped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she said through her hand before lowering it. “You’re going to propose to Kelsey? I’m so lost in my own pathetic problems I totally skipped over that.”
“It’s okay. I understand.” He didn’t, mostly because he’d never felt whatever made Lark look like someone had forced her to listen to a succession of sad country songs.
“It’s not okay. I’m sorry. I . . . I’m happy for you, Cole.” She stood up and hugged him. “Please give her the rings.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m not anywhere near getting married, Cole. I have way too much to do.” She drew in a shaky breath and lifted her chin. “I don’t even want to get married. Not now. Maybe not ever.”
“Thanks, Lark.”
“I’m glad Kelsey will have them.”
“I haven’t asked her yet.”
“She’d be stupid to say no. You’re a good man.”
“Not any better than most. But I am the father of her baby, so I’m hoping I’ll look like the convenient choice, if not the best one.”
“Do you love her?” His sister’s expression was so hopeful he almost hated to tell the truth.
“I like her,” he said. “I like her a lot. And we’re having a baby.”
“And that’s enough of a reason?”
“It is for me. Romance is fine, but mostly it’s a lot of drama.”
“Especially a one-sided romance, I’m discovering,” his sister muttered.
“Right,” he said, feeling uncomfortable with the topic. “Or really any kind. I’m happier finding common ground and building a commitment from there.”
“You’re good at commitment, Cole,” she said.
“Am I?”
“You’ve never let me down.”
A strange tightness invaded his throat. He hoped he never would. “Glad to hear that, kid.”
“She’s lucky to have you. The baby is lucky to have you.”
“Shucks, Lark, you’re going to make me get sentimental.”
She smiled. “I doubt it. You don’t know how to be sentimental.”
He’d thought so too. But now he was starting to wonder.
And maybe he wouldn’t be the worst father in the world after all. Maybe he would be a decent husband the second time around. If he kept his head on straight, remembered commitment over everything else, if he kept his emotions out of it, maybe it would be fine. Maybe.
***
He found Kelsey in her cabin later, sprawled across the bed, typing on her laptop and eating licorice from a big plastic tub.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She looked up at him from her position, her ponytail flopping to the side as she took another bite of red candy. “I’m writing about health and wellness during pregnancy.”
“I’m going to call hypocrisy.”
“Shut up.” She reached out and grabbed her tub of licorice, hugging it to her chest. “Health is about how you feel.”
“And about little things like blood sugar levels and cholesterol.”
“Don’t judge me.”
“I wouldn’t dare.” And he knew then that he was doing the right thing. He did like Kelsey. A lot. And what he really wanted to do was lie down next to her and see if he could taste some of that candy if he kissed her lips. That had to count for something. In his book, sexual attraction counted for a lot. It made the idea of marriage seem bearable. More than bearable. He hadn’t gotten any from his ex. But then, he truly hadn’t liked her in the end, so he wouldn’t have wanted it anyway.
Kelsey was now up by two. He liked her, and he wanted to sleep with her.
But he didn’t give in to the temptation; he just stood at the foot of the bed.
“Good. Fear my hormonally charged wrath,” she said.
“I do.”
“What’s on your mind? And don’t get all paternal on me. I ate dinner, I’m just also having the licorice. Now that I’m not puking my guts out all the time, eating is all I think about.”
“I came to . . . Could you stand up?”
“Can I sit?”
“Sure.”
She moved into a sitting position, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. He took a deep breath and walked to where she was. He considered getting on one knee. He changed his mind quickly. Getting down on one knee was what drunk idiots did before they took their girlfriends to Vegas. It was what they did to make grand gestures. This wasn’t a grand gesture. He wasn’t drunk. He was just trying to do what was best.
“Kelsey, I’ve been thinking a lot about us. And the baby. And how it will work out.”
“I’m willing to bet that’s about all either of us have thought about.”
“I’m sure. I think I have a solution.”
He reached into his pocket and fumbled for the ring box, such as it was. The wood made a clattering sound and the lid fell off. He reached inside and took the engagement ring out from its position in the tissue paper and held it up, the diamond catching the light.
She dropped her licorice. “Are you . . . Do you . . . You aren’t asking me to . . . Are you?”
He nodded and sat down on the bed beside her, the ring still offered up. “I want you to marry me.” It felt right to say it. It felt like glue—a solution. One he badly needed.
“No,” she said, jumping up. “No. Just . . . no. Why would you ask me that?”
He nearly dropped the ring. “What do you mean why? You’re pregnant with my baby, and I think it solves a lot of our problems.”
“Are you freaking kidding me? You think marriage is going to solve our problems?”
“Of all the reactions I imagined, getting yelled at wasn’t one of them.”
She let out an exasperated breath and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Tell me why you want to marry me.”
“Because it will be convenient,” he bit out, pocketing the ring, not bothering to put it back in the box. “Because it makes sense. It’s the right thing to do.”
“Well, shit, Cole that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Nothing about this situation is romantic, and I’m not pretending that it is. But we do have to figure out what we’re doing. I’m offering a solution. You certainly haven’t.”
“What? Just . . . what? I don’t think I heard you right. I have offered nothing but solutions from moment one. Haven’t I come to stay here to get to know you? Haven’t I made an effort? Gone to a doctor in town? I could have slammed the door in your face the minute you showed up, but I didn’t.”
“Because you need me, and you know it,” he growled.
“Oh, I do not need you,” she said, her voice low.
For a second Kelsey thought he might back down—doing his best not to get a tub of licorice thrown at his ass, she imagined. She’d confessed her tendency toward violence, after all.
Her heart was pounding, her head swimming. The worst part of it all had been the gut-wrenching moment of temptation. It had only been a moment, but it had been so real, so tangible, she’d nearly grabbed on with both hands and clung to it.
And then reality had come to her rescue.
“You don’t need me?” he said, taking a step toward her, his expression dark.
This was a different Cole than she’d seen. This Cole was intense. Determined. Sexy as hell.
He hooked his arm around her waist and drew her up against him. His body was hard and hot, and it went a long way in proving his point.
“I think you’re a liar,” he said, leaning in, his lips a whisper away from hers. “I think you do need me.”
“You don’t need to propose just because you want sex,” she said, hoping
to outmaneuver him. Hoping to shock. “For you? I’d come a lot cheaper.”
He lifted his hand and traced the line of her jaw. “I don’t want cheap, babe. I want lasting. And for that? I need to propose.” He released his hold on her and stepped back. And she was disappointed. And she didn’t want to admit it, not even to herself. “Sex is way too much of a risk without it.”
He was right about that. And she was mad at him, so she shouldn’t care. Right now she felt like a kid who’d had a piece of candy taken from her.
“I’m not going to marry you just because you got a bad case of the chivalries.”
“Is that even a thing?” he asked, arching one eyebrow.
“Apparently. It causes otherwise sane men to propose marriage for no logical reason.”
“You’re pregnant with my baby. Under a circumstance that didn’t involve a lab, I would have asked you the day I found out.”
“Me or any other woman pregnant with your child. Am I right?”
He tightened his jaw; a muscle in his cheek jumped. “Yes.”
“No.”
“Why are you being so stubborn?” Spoken just like a man who couldn’t fathom that anyone would think his logic was wrong.
“Because you want a perfect picture. You want to somehow cram this into a traditional ideal, and I hate to break it to you, but you can’t do that in this case. You can’t make ‘I got a girl pregnant on accident because of a lab mistake’ into traditional. You can’t do it. Why you would even try is beyond me.”
“Because it makes sense. When two people have a child together . . .”
“They usually slept together first. We hadn’t even met. And even then, the couple that slept together doesn’t work out more than half the time. Why would you think we would?”
“You can’t pretend we aren’t attracted.”
“Attraction isn’t a good reason to get married either.”
“Then what is, Kelsey? Love? How does that work out for most people? It didn’t work out for me. Love made me an idiot. It was a roller coaster, and the minute it slowed down I begged to get off that ride. Speaking of, how did that love thing work out for you?”
“Uh . . .”
“Marriage is a commitment; it’s not about feelings.”
“The romance keeps coming, but I’m going to go with my original answer.”
“I thought we both established we didn’t want love. This isn’t about romance.”
“No. It’s about you trying to satisfy some male code of honor, but that is not a good enough reason for me to say yes to someone.’
“Are you going to leave?” he asked. His expression was stoic, blank, but it didn’t fool her.
“No.” She knew when she said it that there was no way she was leaving, especially not now.
“Why not?”
“Because we’re going to make this work. And we don’t need marriage to do it, but we do need to be friends.” The word stuck in her throat. She liked Cole, but her feelings for him seemed way to complicated to call him a friend.
His lip curled. “Friends?”
“Yes. Friends. I think that’s our best bet. Like it or not—and right now it’s edging toward not—we are in this together.”
“I’m not denying that.”
“Obviously. But I disagree with your methods.”
“So you think ‘friends raising a baby’ is the way to go?” He leaned in again and she was assaulted by his scent. Clean, a little spicy and under that . . . his skin. She missed that. Being so close to someone she could smell their skin—just them.
It made her want to close the distance between them. But she wouldn’t.
“Yes,” she said, her throat tight.
He leaned in a bit more and her breath caught, her stomach turning. “That means no kissing,” he said, his breath hot on her lips.
“Naturally not.”
“Because if you don’t want marriage, then that means it has to stay platonic. Sex introduces . . . issues. And neither of us can afford those issues.”
“I think I can handle that,” she said, going for snarky, but hitting breathless instead.
He tilted his head to the side, dark eyes glittering. He didn’t believe her. Cocky bastard. “All right then. I’d like you to consider moving into the house, now that Alexa’s gone.” His lips curved, a smug smile.
“This is all very Big Bad Wolf, you know? Now that my protector is gone you’re luring me into your den . . . I don’t know if I like it.”
“You like it. A lot. But because we’re just friends, it doesn’t matter.”
Her cheeks burned. “I do not. Like it. Like that. I like it as a friend.” Yeah, she liked tall, dark, dangerous and alpha as a friend. Right.
“Will you come to the house?”
“In the interest of friendship?”
He moved away from her and she could breathe again. “Of course.”
“Sounds fine to me.” Better than fine, in many ways, since bunking out in the wilderness on her own was a little disconcerting. Though the idea of bunking in his domain was a little scary; but his brother and sister were in there.
“Good.”
“I’d like to move my things over tonight.” She was ready to try and take the upper hand on the situation. To put him off, since he’d so thoroughly managed to knock her off balance.
The corners of his lips turned upward and she found herself thinking how nice it would be to kiss the crease that bracketed his mouth. She blinked.
“Good. Do you need help packing?”
“Nah, I think I can pack my own underwear.”
He arched one brow. “Are you sure?”
“Perv. Let me pack my own panties,” she said, finding it hard to hang on to the anger she’d just been feeling toward him. She didn’t know why it was hard.
“It was an offer of platonic underwear packing. We’re just friends, after all. I’ll just let you get ready. Do you want me to come back and help you carry anything?”
“Sure. I’ll text you when all the unmentionables are packed.”
He nodded once and walked out of the cabin. She listened to his heavy footsteps on the wooden porch, then on the steps, until she couldn’t hear him anymore.
She flopped back on the bed, and as suddenly as the little bubble of amusement had appeared, it vanished. Her eyes stung, and a tear rolled down her cheek. He’d proposed. She’d turned him down. Because all he wanted was to make her fit his idea of what a traditional family looked like.
Having refused him, she didn’t feel very happy either. But she didn’t have another choice. She wasn’t going to marry him just for the sake of the baby. It was silly. Pointless.
She wiped away another tear and stood up, taking a deep, shaky breath. She wasn’t going to waste time worrying about it. They would make this work. They would make the friendship work. There wasn’t another option.
Chapter Seventeen
She put her last pair of underwear in the top drawer of the armoire and pushed it closed. She was officially moved into the big house. Private family rooms were on one end, upstairs and well away from any guest services.
She’d been put with the family. It felt good, secure, in some ways. Except for Cole. No matter what had been said, things didn’t feel even remotely settled with Cole.
There was a knock on the door and she froze, hoping she didn’t have to face him just yet.
“Come in.”
“Hi.” It was Lark. Kelsey felt a wave of relief wash over her, until she saw Lark’s frown.
“So, Cole told me you turned him down.”
“It wasn’t, um . . . personal, as such. Which was the problem. He just wants to do the right thing, I’m not going to marry someone just because he thinks asking me is the ‘right thing to do.’”
“I . . . I understand that. But Cole is really wonderful, and . . .”
Kelsey’s stomach pitched slightly. Of course Lark idolized Cole. Which actually made it even harder—because he really
was that good of a guy. But it still didn’t mean marrying him was the smart thing to do.
“Yes. I know. And I like him.” She thought back to the intense expression on his face when she’d turned him down, and the way it had tightened her body, made her ache and even tremble a little. “Like” seemed an insipid word. “But that’s not a great reason to get married. That doesn’t mean I won’t stay. Or that I won’t be here a lot. Just that I’m not going to up and marry him when we . . . we hardly know each other.”
“Sorry. I know . . . I know that. But . . . I was looking forward to having you. To having a sister.”
Ouch. Now Kelsey felt even worse. “I know. I know your house is a little short on female influence,” she said.
“My mom died when I was nine. Then it was just me and Dad and the boys. And then just me and the boys.”
Kelsey couldn’t even imagine. She’d had a house full of women. She hadn’t been able to escape them, even when she wanted to. Lark didn’t have anyone. Hopefully she’d at least had good friends. But it hadn’t escaped her notice that while beautiful, if a bit plain, Lark was awkward in some ways, and it had probably been hard for her to make friends.
“It’s hard to do the teenage thing with brothers,” Lark continued. “Especially brothers like mine. They’re pretty liberal in their . . . behavior. But their views changed sharply when it came to me and my dating life, such as it is. Or such as it’s not.”
“Yeah, that’s a brother thing.” Kelsey couldn’t help but wonder just how liberal Cole had been. It wasn’t her business, and, as a friend, it did not fall under her jurisdiction. Even so, her mind went there.
“I know. While you’re here though . . . I’d like to get to know you better.”
“Of course.”
A small, sad smile curved her lips. “It would have been nice to have a sister.”
“I can still be your friend. And you’ll be my baby’s aunt.”
“True. I like that.”
“Did Cole seem . . . okay . . . when he told you I turned him down?”
Lark frowned. “It’s always hard to tell with him. But he told me because he gave me the ring. My mom’s engagement ring and wedding band. That was what he offered you.”