Indefinite (Salvation #6)(44)

“No, not even close. But, have I moved on from the idea that we could ever be? Yeah, I guess I have.”

“I see,” he says as he takes a step back. “Well, then I guess I have to step up my game.”

That is not exactly what I was expecting.

“Excuse me?”

“Dinner. Have dinner with me tomorrow night. A real date. You gave me lunch, now I want one dinner. One real night out, and if it goes badly, I’ll walk away. I’ll do whatever you want. Deal?”

One dinner, and then I tell him that I’m pregnant. He’s made a deal that both of us will wish we never made. Once he finds out that he’s going to be a father, he’ll see that everything he’s been telling himself he wants is a lie, and then he’ll be gone. Just like history has shown.





22


Ashton





I stand here, looking at myself in the mirror, wondering how tonight will go. If it goes sideways, at least I’ll look hot. My hair is down and curled at the ends so it brushes below my shoulder blades. I did my makeup a little softer since the sun bronzed my skin . . . well, maybe not bronze, but not super pale, at least, and I’m wearing my favorite blue dress.

He wouldn’t tell me where we are going, just that he made reservations somewhere in case I agreed. I worry my lip, trying to calm my pounding heart. He says that this is what he wants. He freaking asked me to marry him, and now, I guess we’ll see if his money’s where his mouth is.

I will probably cry once I finally garner the courage to tell him he’s going to be a dad.

Then I will be the one who has to make a choice.

Do I forgive him and try again?

Do I guard my heart as much as I can?

The knock at my door stops my self-reflection. “Here goes nothing,” I say to the girl in the mirror. “See you on the flipside.”

Once I’m through the apartment, I stand at the door, taking two deep breaths before finding the nerve to actually turn the knob. Then, after I do, I wish I had taken two more. I’ve seen Quinn in many different styles of clothing. His uniform, which lasted a whole three seconds before I was ripping it off him. Jeans and T-shirt, which is my favorite because no matter how big his shirts are, they always end up looking like a smmedium—half-small, half-medium. And I’ve seen him at Catherine’s wedding when he was in a suit.

I’ve never seen him in this suit.

Not this blue suit with a white shirt and orange tie. A suit that makes his eyes the color of sapphires that harden as they meet mine.

Not looking like he walked out of a GQ magazine.

This isn’t fair.

This is sinful.

The way he looks right now is enough to make me want to rip both our clothes off and say fuck the food.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous,” he says as I stand here gaping at him.

“You’re . . . you look . . . good.”

No need to inflate his ego, right?

“Well, don’t flatter me too much now.”

I blush and glance away. He caught me in the lie and has no problems calling me on it. “Let’s not pretend you’re offended. You know you look very good.”

He grins as though he could read my thoughts. “At least now there’s a very.”

Frustrating man. “Anyway, am I dressed okay? I wasn’t sure what our plans were, so I sort of went casual-cute.”

He steps closer, pushing my hair off my shoulder. “You’re perfect. You could wear a burlap sack and be breathtaking. Or nothing at all. I always approve of naked.”

I roll my eyes. He says that now, but when I’m the size of a whale, we’ll see.

I try to put my pregnancy out of my mind. I need to get through tonight and then tell him. No need to destroy our first date by blurting out that I have a bun in the oven.

“I have something for you.”

This grabs my attention, and I turn to him. “You do?”

Quinn reaches into his pocket and pulls out a blue box with a white ribbon wrapped around it.

I gasp and look up. His eyes are trained on mine as he extends the gift toward me.

My hand shakes, and I can’t quite get myself to reach toward him. It’s not a bomb, I know this, but it’s Tiffany’s.

“I saw it when we were there, and I thought it was about time that you got something,” he says with a laugh. “Your entire home should’ve been filled with them by now.”

Who knew that this box would be so hard to take?

“Quinn,” I say as I look at him.

This is too much.

There’s too many things going on in my head, and I’m confused and excited. He got me a blue box. Even if there’s nothing inside it . . . I don’t care.

Okay, that’s a lie.

I totally do.

But still . . .

Slowly, my hand extends, taking it but not moving to lift the lid. I stare at it, not wanting to ruin the beauty and simplicity that it holds. A satin white ribbon is tied perfectly. I’ll never be able to recreate it. If it weren’t so tacky, I’d grab my phone to document this.

“Open it,” he urges.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t open it?”

I shake my head. “No, because no matter what it is, this box will never be the same.”