by JC Harroway
Which really only left her one option.
She closed her eyes. “Damn it, I have to do it, don’t I?”
“I mean, you could put on your martyr’s sash and try to power through it on your own, but that’s not going to accomplish anything but to save your pride—and only for a while.”
She would need help eventually. Whether it was financially or with babysitting or... God, Becka didn’t know where to start.
Easy. You start with Aaron and go from there.
“If I change my mind, he’s going to have me over a barrel.”
“Sounds like your kind of kink.”
Becka made a face. “Very funny.” The earlier encounter with Aaron had been over so quickly, she could almost tell herself she hadn’t noticed how good he looked. Life was complicated enough without her still being attracted to Aaron. Stop borrowing trouble. You have enough of it as things stand. She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. “I’m in over my head. I want this baby, but...there are so many strings attached. I knew there would be, but I really didn’t expect him to go full-on caveman on me over this. He was seconds away from knocking me over the head and dragging me out of here by my hair.”
Allie circled around the coffee table and crouched next to her. “You have options, you know. No matter how cornered you feel right now, there’s always more than one path forward. We just need to sit down and figure it out.”
That was the problem, though—she’d been doing nothing but thinking about her options going forward. Becka had always been better at acting first and worrying about the consequences later. So much inaction was not only unnatural, it stressed her the fuck out.
Allie nodded as if she’d said something. “You’ve already decided you’re going to do things his way. That’s okay. But if you change your mind at any point, that’s okay, Becka. You’re not trapped, no matter what it feels like right now.”
Trapped.
That was a good word. Becka rubbed a hand over her face. Now that she’d actually let herself decide, there was no reason to delay. If she held off too long, she had no doubt Aaron would come charging through her door again and then she’d have to tell him to fuck off out of sheer principle and it would be a case of cutting off her nose to spite her face. That wouldn’t actually help anyone.
She grabbed her phone off the coffee table and typed out a quick text to Aaron. You win this round. Text me your address.
The reply appeared before she had a chance to set the phone back down. I’ll pick you up in two hours.
Becka glared. “The man is insufferable.”
Allie leaned over to read the message. “Insufferable in kind of a sexy way, though. There’s something about a guy who takes charge that’s really attractive.”
“You only say that because you’re deeply in love with Roman. Seriously, do alpha males travel in a pack, because between Roman and Gideon and Aaron...” She shuddered. “You would have thought they’d do the lone wolf thing.”
“Lone wolves and alpha wolves are two very different things.”
“Thanks, National Geographic.” She glared harder at her phone and stabbed out a response. I will haul my own damn things. Give me your address. Compromise is your friend.
I can compromise. You have three hours.
“God!” She tossed her phone onto the table and shot to her feet, nearly knocking her friend over. She stalked to her bedroom and started throwing clothes onto her bed. She wasn’t moving in with him, but she would give him the benefit of the doubt—barely—and stay there for a little while to give the whole thing a trial.
The way things were going, it might be a very short trial.
Allie wisely decided to stand in the doorway and out of range. “What do you need from me?”
She loved her friend so freaking much for not putting any demands on her or trying to tell her how she should be reacting or feeling. That was Allie, though. She devoted her life to supporting women who needed it. Allie’s gym, Transcend, was linked up with a local women’s shelter, so the classes were women only. Becka always enjoyed getting them pumped up. It was a safe space for them to do something for themselves, and Becka was just a small part of that, but she loved it.
Allie might be understanding to the extreme, but Lucy wouldn’t be. Her sister had always been her opposite, and for better or worse, Lucy would have something to say about this whole baby situation. It was the logical, collected nature of her older sibling. Becka had to tell her eventually, but she wasn’t ready. Lucy would give her that look, the one that always got on her face when Becka screwed up or went too far.
When I act too much like our mother.
She couldn’t stand the thought of her sister’s disappointment. And there would be disappointment. This wasn’t an oops baby between Becka and some longtime boyfriend. This was a pregnancy as the result of a one night stand with a man she barely knew.
No, she wasn’t ready to tell Lucy about the baby.
She didn’t know if she’d ever be ready.
Becka dumped her gym bag next to the growing pile of clothes. “I don’t know what I need.” She stopped. “I’m a mess, and I don’t think that’s going to be changing any time soon, but I promise not to be too unbearable.”
“Oh honey.” Allie crossed the room in a few short steps and pulled Becka into her arms. She hugged her hard. “I know this is scary and you’re overwhelmed, but I don’t have a single doubt about you being the best mom out there. You have the luckiest little lima bean ever.”
“Lima bean.”
“Well, yeah. That’s about the size the baby is right now? I mean...”
“It’s actually closer to a lime.” She’d looked it up after the doctor confirmed the pregnancy.
“Oh wow, that’s a huge difference.” Allie laughed. “That’s not a very cute nickname, anyways. I can come up with better.”
Becka hugged her back hard. “No, I like it. Lima bean fits.” She didn’t have the heart to tell Allie that she wasn’t sure about being even a good mom, let alone the best one. Becka didn’t have much of a role model for that one, but she’d be damned before she made the same mistakes her mother did.
Except for the part where you got knocked up by a near stranger out of wedlock. So far, I’m swinging for the fences with walking in her footsteps.
* * *
Aaron half expected Becka not to be home when he arrived. He was pushing her too hard and he damn well knew it, but he couldn’t seem to get control of himself. The thought of her living in that run-down little apartment by herself, where the security was lackluster at best and the walls seemed a strong breeze away from coming down around her ears... It made him crazy. He’d never really thought about kids, other than as a vaguely theoretical “someday” in the equally vague future, but now that he had an actual baby on the way, he wasn’t about to stand back and let it want for anything.
That included living arrangements.
He clenched his jaw as he walked through Becka’s door. The place wasn’t any better than the first time he’d been there. If anything, the flaws were only more glaring. He’d missed the water stain on the wall before, where someone overhead had obviously had a leak that had come through to Becka’s apartment. Or the crack in her window that wouldn’t keep out the cold—or the heat.
She didn’t look at him as she reached for the pile of bags at her feet and shouldered her backpack. “This is temporary, Aaron. I’m not prepared to sign my life away to be your kept woman, baby or no. If you pull another high-handed move like you did earlier, I’m out and I’m not coming back.”
He clenched his jaw harder. Do not yell at her contrary ass. Be calm. Be fucking rational. “You mentioned compromise.”
“I’m surprised you know the word.”
Aaron scooped up the remaining three bags and shot her a look that dared her to argue with him taking t
hem. “Let’s go. I have a car waiting downstairs.” He chose to ignore her muttering uncomplimentary things and followed her down the dim hallway to the rickety elevator. Through it all, he kept his damn mouth shut. They were both on a hair trigger, and he didn’t need to be the one to set things aflame. Especially not now that they needed to sit down and have a serious discussion.
But he still couldn’t stop himself from asking. “When did you know?”
“Four weeks ago.” She hitched her bag higher on her shoulder and marched out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened, Aaron on her heels.
“You’ve known for a month and only called me yesterday.”
“That is how math works.”
He instinctively held the front door open for her and pointed at the black car idling at the curb. Aaron grabbed her backpack and loaded all the bags into the trunk. He joined Becka in the back seat, his irritation only growing when she pulled out her phone and started playing some puzzle game. “Why didn’t you call me as soon as you knew?”
“I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so there was no reason to bring you into the conversation until I made my decision.”
If she wanted to keep it or not.
He stared straight ahead as his driver merged into traffic. Aaron knew he ultimately had no say in her choice, and he wouldn’t have taken that from her even if the thought of her terminating the pregnancy opened a hole in his chest that he didn’t know how to process. He’d known he was going to be a father for less than twelve hours. There was absolutely no logical reason for him already to be attached to the idea of this baby, let alone the baby itself. It wasn’t even really a baby yet.
None of that seemed to matter.
He looked back at Becka, noting the changes he’d been too distracted to take in earlier. Even without the makeup she’d worn the night he met her, her skin damn near glowed, and her still-blue hair, though now more turquoise than actual blue, seemed glossier. His gaze skated over her black leggings and still-flat stomach to her breasts pressing against her tank top. Those have definitely changed.
“Stop ogling me.” She spoke without looking up from her phone.
Since there was no question that ogling was exactly what he’d been doing, he went on the offensive. “Have you been eating? You don’t look like you’ve gained any weight.”
Becka snorted. “Yes, Mother, I’ve been eating. It’s normal not to gain much in the first trimester, especially since I’m so active and this is my, ah, first pregnancy.”
He racked his brain for what little pregnancy knowledge he had and...came up short. Aaron’s sisters were both younger than him and hadn’t had children yet. His mother wasn’t much of a sharer, and even if she was, she wouldn’t have gone into detail with her only son when it came to her pregnancies. Besides, he’d never had a reason to ask before.
He had to brush up on his knowledge, maybe read a few books. He’d attend the doctor’s appointments with Becka, of course, but Aaron didn’t like to walk into any encounter without having a decent idea of how it would play out. He’d rather be armed with all the information and possibilities before the conversation even began.
He shot another look at her to make sure she wasn’t paying any attention to him, and then spent several minutes ordering the top-rated pregnancy books available. Aaron hesitated, then put express shipping on the order and plugged in the address to the office. If Cameron bothered to open the box, he might give Aaron shit, but it was better than the alternative: Becka finding them and getting her back up.
Even with traffic, they made it to his penthouse in good time. He led the way through the lobby and to the elevator. “I’ll get you added to the list of people with access to the floor tomorrow. Tonight, we’ll get your space set up and talk over dinner.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
He punched the button for his floor. “You just got done telling me that you eat.”
“I do eat.” She sounded like she was clenching her jaw as hard as he was. “I also only eat when I’m hungry, and right now I’m not hungry.”
She was too skinny, surely. Aaron opened his mouth and then reconsidered. Becka might have chosen to be here with him, but it was a tenuous alliance. Even with his threat of involving her sister and friend and their respective men, there was nothing really holding Becka to him. He’d be on the birth certificate—he’d sue for paternity if he had to—but they had at least eighteen years of dealing with each other in front of them.
And he’d essentially gotten them started by blackmailing her.
Way to go, Livingston. You played this all wrong.
The doors opened into a foyer that separated his penthouse from anyone who had access. He keyed in his code and held the door for her. “This way.” He slipped past her and led the way through the open living room and kitchen to the short hallway. There were three doors. Aaron pointed at the one on the right. “Bathroom.” Center. “My room.” Left. “Your room.”
“Thanks,” she bit out. Becka slid past him and walked into the room. She took it in with a cursory glance and crossed her arms over her chest. “Leave my bags. Please.” The last sounded more afterthought than genuine politeness.
Aaron didn’t move. “We need to talk, Becka.”
“And we will.” She looked everywhere but at him. “You got what you wanted, Aaron. I’m here. I know this might sound shocking, but today wore me out. I want to unpack my clothes and maybe take a bath and just decompress a little without having to plan the next six months—the next eighteen years—tonight. That okay with you?” She lifted her chin, her posture telling him she didn’t give a fuck if it was okay with him.
He could keep pushing. She was off center and defensive, but maybe she needed to know he was actually all in with this shit.
Then again, Aaron didn’t know Becka well enough to anticipate how she’d respond. His threat earlier was a well-placed guess based on her close relationship with both her sister and Allie—and his knowledge of Gideon and Roman. But going forward, he was in the dark in a big way. He needed more information, and he needed it fast.
Until then, there was nothing wrong with letting Becka settle into his home and make herself comfortable. He could use the time for a little reconnaissance to pave the way before the baby books arrived. “If you change your mind about food, I can order takeout.” Aaron hesitated. “Is there anything that’s a hard no for you foodwise right now?”
She narrowed her eyes. “So you can keep trying to feed me?”
“No, minx, so I don’t order some kind of takeout that triggers your morning sickness and makes you miserable.”
Becka’s eyes widened. “Oh. Well.” She uncrossed her arms and shifted her feet. “No fish. I wasn’t sick the first trimester, so no reason to think it will start now, but fish is a hard limit.”
He kept his smile under lock and key. “No fish. Got it.” He stepped around her and set her bags on the bed. “If you need anything—”
“What I need is space.” She bit her bottom lip, worrying the piercing there. “But thanks. I know this wasn’t exactly expected news and you’re handling it a lot better than I thought you would.” Becka made a face. “Stop trying to steamroll me, though.”
“I make no promises.” He almost reached out, almost drew her into his arms and promised that whatever came, they would face it down together...
That wasn’t how this story went. The sex might have been outstanding, but the ultimate truth was that Aaron didn’t know shit about Becka Baudin. He didn’t know her likes and dislikes, her favorite things, her history, what kind of mother she’d be.
Six months didn’t seem nearly long enough to figure it out.
One day at a time. First get the information you need, then formulate a plan of attack.
If he wanted to be in Becka’s life—in the baby’s life—then he needed to convince her that she wante
d him there. Right now, his chances didn’t look particularly promising, but Aaron had faced down impossible odds before. He would again.
After he regrouped.
But tomorrow was a new day, and he wasn’t about to give her enough space to keep building the already impressive wall she had in place between them.
CHAPTER FIVE
BECKA’S ATTITUDE LASTED until she walked into the bathroom. She turned a slow circle, taking in the broody gray walls, the silvery tiles blocking out a walk-in shower, and a jetted tub big enough to fit three people. Or a pregnant woman who’s twice her normal size.
Worry about that later.
The list of things she would worry about later continued to grow, but she’d add that to the list, too. Right now, her entire body hurt, as if she’d done three spin classes in a single day, and she just wanted a hot soak and to not think about anything at all. At least Aaron had backed off and given her space. Despite the nine-foot ceilings and massive square footage, the walls of this penthouse threatened to close in on her.
She wasn’t trapped.
She could leave whenever she wanted.
Knowing that was the only thing that kept her from running screaming into the night. She was here by choice. It might be a manipulated choice, but it was still her choice.
Becka got the water going at the right temperature and then went snooping around the room. The cabinet under the sink had the expected cleaning tools, all damn near shining from being so clean themselves. Next were the artfully displayed soaps situated on the little corner table next to the bath. There were essential oils and bath bombs and lady-looking shower gels. Becka picked up a bath bomb and gave a sniff. It was something flowery and feminine and had no place in this supermasculine home.