Well Suited (Red Lipstick Coalition #4)(6)

My lungs emptied like I’d been kicked in the chest and propelled off a cliff. Gravity shifted in a sickening tilt that brought my lunch charging up my esophagus. Pregnant. She was pregnant. The word was nonsense to my brain, a made-up string of syllables with letters pulled from a Scrabble bag.

Her face was as stoic as ever. I thought I might have imagined a flicker of concern or indecision behind her eyes, but it was gone by the time she began to speak again, the speech rehearsed, outlining every detail like a cartographer.

“You were the only man I have had intercourse with in quite some time. There’s no question as to whether or not it’s yours. After going through my finances and making some cursory plans, I’ve decided to have the baby and raise it. If you would like to be involved, your assistance would be welcome, but you are not obligated in any way. I am fully capable of raising the embryo on my own. Well,” she corrected, “with the help of a nanny. But without your aid.”

I blinked.

“I can see that you need a moment to process. Please, take your time.”

At that, she sat back, reached into her bag, and returned with a book.

My first thought was that she was absolutely lovely, sitting there on my couch with a book in her long fingers.

My second thought was that my child resided somewhere in the vicinity of her hips.

Stunned was an understatement, though the closest word to describe how I felt. Stunned, like I’d been brained with a Louisville and was lying on the sidewalk, trying to figure out why the horizon was vertical.

“We’re having a baby,” I mumbled.

“Technically, I’m having a baby. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

A disbelieving laugh chuffed out of me. The creature before me tilted her head curiously.

She was without a doubt the most intriguing woman I had ever met. And I’d known scores. Perks of being the twin of a famous author and notorious rake, although since he and Amelia had gotten together, things had slowed down. Frankly, I’d been too busy helping Tommy run his career to date for the last six years. Fuck, sure. But Katherine was the first person in years I’d actually wanted to see again.

And she’d stayed away with annoying determination.

Flashes of that night flickered in my mind, from the stiff shake of her hand to her shock as I whipped her around the dance floor. Spent the night with her, one night. She’d said that was all it’d be.

But when the time had come to walk away, I hadn’t found it as easy to follow through as she had. I’d called. Texted. Resorted to running around with Tommy and Amelia in the hopes that we’d bump into her.

I’d been ignored and avoided on all fronts. And now, here she was, sitting in my living room for no reason other than that she was pregnant.

With my baby.

She watched me with those complicated eyes, cool as a cucumber on a sweltering August day—refreshing, crisp and sharp. I untied my tongue, lining up my thoughts so I could deliver them to her with the same clarity and decision as she’d afforded me.

I didn’t think she’d agree to what I was about to propose otherwise. Because Katherine Lawson spoke the language of logic.

And that was a language I was familiar with.

“I would like to discuss the nature of my involvement with the baby.”

“Embryo,” she corrected, closing her book with a nod. “Yes, of course.”

I shifted, still trying to collect my wits and words, smoothing my tie as I thought. Her gaze snagged the motion, catching on my hands. Absently, she wet her lips, the tip of her tongue appearing and disappearing.

“I would like to be involved at every level, on all fronts. Doctor’s visits and childbirth classes. Baby registry and stroller research. Nanny interviews. Diaper changes. Midnight bottles. I don’t want to miss anything, Kate.”

She ignored my needling use of her nickname. And really, I should have felt bad for using it. It was just that the woman I’d had that night was not Katherine with a K, not Katie or Kat. The girl I’d held in my arms was a soft, sighing Kate, and that was all there was to it.

But the reason the offense had gone ignored was that it seemed it was her turn to be stunned. It was in the slight widening of her eyes, the unnatural stillness of her body. I wasn’t sure she was breathing.

“Are you all right?” I asked with a flex of my brows.

She drew a breath that seemed to reanimate her. “Yes. I just expected a different answer.”

“You expected me to wish you good luck and send you on your way?”

“Well, yes. It seemed like the easy answer.”

“Easy doesn’t suit me,” I said, shifting back to the details. “I have a proposition to make. Once the baby comes, it’s not going to be easy to live separately. Or,” I amended, “I should say, it would be much easier not to live separately.”

Suspicion flickered across her brow. “You suggest we cohabitate?”

I wanted to suggest more than that. But rather than press my luck, I said, “Yes. It makes the most sense.”

The corners of her lips dipped in the smallest of frowns. But that was how she seemed to do everything. By increment. “I’d like to think about that offer and discuss it later. I’ve made enough mammoth decisions today. I think I might need to pace myself.”

I smiled, not only because she was endearingly pragmatic, but because she hadn’t said no. “Of course.”