“Brenda showed up,” I remind him.
He closes his eyes briefly and curses under his breath.
He probably feels inconvenienced. Hard to audition naked women with a baby around. I don’t want to force him into doing something he might not want just because I’m carrying his child. People who are forced into decisions rarely honor them. And if they do, they resent the hell out of it. Neither the baby nor I deserve that.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, except to provide child support because that’s what a baby should be able expect from its father.”
“What?”
“Take time to think it over,” I say, giving him a graceful way to back off and process it. “I know you’re probably in shock. This wasn’t part of our plan.”
“What plan?”
“A sex-only fling?” Shock seems to have temporarily halved his IQ.
“That was not a ‘plan.’ Asking me to hand over money to pay for the cost of raising a baby isn’t much of a plan, either.”
That annoys the hell out of me. I’m not some irresponsible non-planner! “I made an Excel model on what it takes to raise a child.” I don’t bring up the PowerPoint or memos, since he seems to be focused on the financial aspect.
“I’d like to see it. I’m sure I’m going to want changes.”
Ha. I’m not staying up until two a.m. to redo it!
He continues, “Regardless, I can’t remain uninvolved.” He narrows his eyes. “We’ll get married.”
“What?”
He spreads his hands. “We’ll get married.”
I stare at him, trying to process why in the world he’s saying this. My heart is racing, my belly all fluttery. Marriage never occurred to me, and the idea is scary as hell because I like it far too much. Somebody wants me enough to make the commitment!
Until cold reality slaps me hard. Girlfriend, he didn’t say the M-word until you got pregnant. And remember Xavier? Weddings can be called off just like that. Cold reality snaps its frigid fingers in demonstration.
“Are you out of your mind?” I croak.
“I’m perfectly rational,” Emmett says calmly.
“No, you aren’t. If you were, you wouldn’t have thrown out marriage as an option. Your judgment is clouded by the confusion of the moment.”
“I am not confused. Just like you have definite ideas about how a fling should go, I also have definite ideas about how my baby should be raised.”
“Which is…?”
“In a household. With two parents. Who are married.”
Wow. I didn’t expect Emmett to be this traditional. He was raised in Europe for a while—which is supposed to be more liberal than the States when it comes to stuff like this—and his father is a Hollywood producer who never married.
“Emmett, we’re not getting married just because I’m pregnant.”
“May I remind you that that”—he points at my belly—“is my baby you’re carrying?”
“Yes, but marriage! It’s a big step.”
He squints at me, then closes his eyes and nods. “You want to be romanced. Of course. Flowers, chocolate, jewelry…”
“No, it isn’t about stuff like that! I’m not marrying someone who I can’t be sure will stick around no matter how rough things might get. If you marry me for the baby, you’re committing yourself for at least eighteen years. I don’t want you to get bored and leave in the middle of it.” As the words slip from my mouth, I realize the chances of him getting bored are significant. The man’s too smart and too rich not to, or put up with a situation when it’s no longer amusing. I can’t risk my future happiness—or my baby’s—on his mood. I deserve a dependable man who wants me for myself. “If you feel like you have to have some stake in the baby, we can do some kind of joint custody.”
“Tell you what. Let’s just temporarily put marriage aside. Until you’re sure.” It’s like he didn’t hear my joint custody offer and is confident I’m going to change my mind.