The Baby Contract

Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

“You know, it occurs to me that we could avoid the clinical nature of this deal by making a baby the old-fashioned way.”

She arched a brow. “You just don’t want to jerk off into a cup.”

“Not if I can cum inside you, I don’t. Besides, we’re good at sex. Our little tryst in the pool proves it.”

She watched me over the rim of her glass as she finished her water. “To be honest, I think all that was just the result of the pregnancy vitamins.”

It was my turn to arch a brow. “They don’t have hormones in them. They’re just vitamins.” Why was she trying to brush off what just happened as nothing?

“Regardless, we shouldn’t make this a habit. After all, you’re technically my boss.”

She set her glass in the sink. “Goodnight.”

I stood like a doofus in the kitchen as she walked out. How had she felt so little, nothing actually, when my entire world had been rocked? She didn’t want it to happen again which was beyond disappointing.

I sighed and headed back to my room. I thought I’d had a pretty good grip on what made women tick. Raising Harper from when she was fifteen gave me a crash course to the workings of women’s minds.

But Anne was an enigma.

One minute she was avoiding me and then next she was kissing me and asking me to fuck her and then she was running away again. Was it because deep down she didn’t like me? Was it out of concern for Harper?

Afterall, technically you’re my boss. Could that really be the reason?

I decided the reason didn’t matter. What mattered was that I had to respect her decision and do better to avoid fucking her.

Maybe she’d be more comfortable if I acted more like her boss. I shook my head at that idea.

She’d probably push back against that saying I was being too bossy or demanding. After all, the only things I could boss her around on had to do with taking care of herself and the baby.

Maybe we needed to have a talk. She seemed resistant to that, but I didn’t like the whiplash I was getting from her drastic changes in attitude toward me.

The next morning, I was up early. I decided to go for a run outside to get fresh air. When I arrived back, I was told Anne was having breakfast in her room.

Was she avoiding me?

I grabbed a cup of coffee and went to my room to shower and dress. It was the weekend, but I had a few projects to work on in my home office.

Anne asked if I was going to be a workaholic when the child came. I’d already determined I wouldn’t be. I didn’t need to work as much as I did. I enjoyed it and didn’t have much else to do.

With Anne here, I might have found other activities we could do together, and no, I didn’t just mean sex. But it was clear she didn’t want us to develop a relationship beyond boss and employee.

When I was showered and dressed, I’d intended to go downstairs for breakfast, but instead I found myself outside of Anne’s room.

I knocked on the door. “Anne?”

I’d about decided she’d gone out when her door opened a crack. She held her robe clutched tight around her neck.

Irritation flared. “I’m not going to attack you.”

“What do you want?”

“To talk to you.”

“Now’s not a good time.”

“As you pointed out last night, I’m your boss.” I felt like such a dick saying that.