Paradise Valley (Virgin River #7)(40)

Abby groaned. “And so there’s another person in town who knows.”

“Take it easy. It’s all lawyer-client privilege. Confidential. While she didn’t deal with divorce in her practice, she knows everyone in the state and made some phone calls. As long as you clear the debt and don’t take his money like some gold digger, that’s going to be the end of it. You’ll walk away from it. Unless he hates you for some purely personal…”

His voice trailed off at the unexpected sound of her laughter. “Personal hatred? I don’t think he remembers my name. Cameron, he’s on woman number ninety-two at least. He’s been married three times and he’s probably not smart enough to stop. Plus, I’m relatively sure he’s using drugs, drinking himself stupid…” She wound some spaghetti around her fork and put it in her mouth. “This is very good,” she said. “Does Brie really think if I obey my court instructions, I could get beyond this?”

“She does. And she’s willing to help if there’s a problem. Remember, he’s a rock star on tour. How much energy do you think he has?”

“What about his lawyers?”

“Well, that’s an issue. They could recommend more motions—if they want to make more money for themselves. Brie recommended a polite, legal letter bringing this whole business to a close. Let him get screwed by his lawyers and not by you.”

“Hmm. That actually sounds very sensible. What else is on your mind?”

“Then,” he said, leaning back a little, “after the debt is gone and you’re finished with that business, or so we hope, I’ll support you.”

“Oh no, I don’t want that….”

“Okay, I’ll carry the babies and you support me,” he suggested, winding his own spaghetti around his fork and grinning.

“Deal,” she said, rubbing her lower back.

He continued to eat his spaghetti and salad and while he did so, he talked to her, friend to friend. “Here’s the deal—we have stuff to handle. We have mothers—enough said. We have your prenup, which can be handled, but it’s making you tense and you don’t exactly need tension. That needs to go away. You can’t live on air—you’ll have to eat and cover your head, so you’ll need some kind of income. There’s furniture and supplies to buy. We have twins coming and I know you didn’t hand-pick me for the job, but I’m the dad. Bad break for you, maybe, but I could turn out to be a good dad for them—I know a lot about kids. And this pregnancy is not the usual thing. I’d like to be close to the situation, to keep an eye on you and the babies. I am a doctor—that can come in handy, y’know?” He lifted a brow. “We should be in close contact, daily, on these issues and others—like names. They should get names before they come. Don’t you think?”

She swallowed. “Well, I guess that’s a good idea. You have my number.”

“Why don’t we consider moving in together? While we head for this event?”

She gulped. “What?” she asked weakly.

“Let’s clear the debt, get Kid Crawford out of the picture, I’ll take on your upkeep rather than Vanni and Paul shouldering your food and board, and we’ll evolve into…” He cleared his throat. “We don’t have to explain anything. People will just say, ‘Dr. Michaels likes that nice pregnant girl.’ We’ll share a house. I’ll be your roommate. You’ll have your own room. But there will be late nights you’re worried about some belly pain or later, night crying from the babies. You don’t want to do that to Vanni and Paul and—”

“I was just going to go home to Seattle. To my mom and dad’s.”

“They have room for me?” he asked, lifting his fork and arching that brow.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she said, slamming down her fork. “You can’t mean to say you plan to just follow me and demand to live with the babies!”

“Well, no,” he said. “That would be obsessive. But Jesus, Ab, I don’t want to miss out on anything. Do you know how much babies change from two to six weeks? It just kills me to think you’d take them that far away from me. I mean, they are—”

“I know,” she said, frustrated. “Yours.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. And they’re also yours. And I swear to God, I will never try to take them away from you. That would be cruel.”

He had just aimed an arrow at her sense of justice. The shock of realization must have shown on her face, but he took another bite, had another drink of his beer, smiled.

“Live together?”

“Here’s how it’ll go if you stay with Vanni and Paul. Toward the end, when you’re sleepless, you’ll be up at night. You’ll be tired during the day, but there will be a toddler around, making noise and crying. And you’ll have all those late pregnancy complaints, worries. Then you’ll have a small guest room stuffed to the ceiling with paraphernalia. Then babies—and grandmothers as additional guests? Newborns, sometimes, cry for hours. They could have Vanni and Paul up all night, walking the floor with you. Nah, that wouldn’t be good. And besides, it’s not Paul’s job to help, it’s mine.”

“Where do you suggest we live? Here?”

“Here isn’t bad,” he said with a shrug. “But Mel and Jack offered us their cabin. It’s a nice cabin—two bedrooms and a loft, ten minutes from town. Ideally, we should hurry and look around for a place that can accommodate a man, a woman, two newborns, two grandmothers and… We don’t have to make room for the lawyers, do we?”