Possessive Baby Daddy

He looks surprised. “I know you are.”

“I mean it though. I’m scared, but I’m going to do it.”

“I know,” he says again, softly this time. “I can tell you’re scared. And I can tell you’re determined. That’s why I’m here.”

He looks like he wants to say more, but our food arrives. I dig in and he mostly ignores his. “I’m eating for two now,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. He barely cracks a smile.

We eat for a couple minutes before he leans back and crosses his arms. “Let me ask you something,” he says.

“I like all kinds of movies,” I say. “Foreign films, action, comedy. Whatever’s good.”

He smiles. “How are you going to run a production company with a newborn?”

I meet his gaze. “I don’t know.”

“That’s your plan though, right? Your father’s going to give it up sometime soon?”

I pause. “I think so. He keeps talking about retiring. He’s sixty-five and still drinks like he’s twenty.”

“Think about how much easier it would be with me in your life,” he says, leaning closer. “Think about how good I can make you feel. And how much happier the baby will be with his father.”

I shake my head. “First of all, it’s a girl. And second of all, no, I don’t think so.”

“Klara.”

“No, listen. You have your own life, right? Can you imagine how much you’ll resent me for doing my thing while you stay home and take care of a baby? Plus, I don’t know what kind of mother I want to be right now. Maybe I’ll take a year off. I bet my dad would let me. Then once the baby’s old enough for daycare, I can slide back into work.”

“After missing a full year?” he asks. “Right now, when Divas is taking off?”

I hesitate. I hadn’t thought about that. The Divas franchise will be huge eight months from now, and that first year after my baby’s born will probably be the most important year of the franchise’s existence.

I can’t just disappear for an entire year in the middle of that.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” I say. My appetite is gone and his stare is pissing me off.

“I bet you don’t, but this is all the shit you have to think about. Let me in your life and I can make it easier.”

“No.” I push my plate away. “You can’t just… force yourself into my life.”

That seems to hurt him. “I’m not trying to force anything.”

“Yes, you are.” I stand up. He stares at me. “Look, this was fun, okay? I had a good time up until you started in with the baby stuff again.”

“I had fun too,” he says.

“But I’m not looking to get involved. I just… I just can’t right now, okay? Can you respect that?”

“No,” he says.

I clench my jaw. “Why are you such a dick?”

“Because I want you.” He tilts his head, his gorgeous eyes staring into mine. “And I know you feel the same. You’re afraid of what that means for you, though, but you shouldn’t be. I can make your life easier, Klara. I can make it better.”

“Yeah, I bet you think that. But in the end, I’m a woman, and this baby is going to be my responsibility.” I turn away from him. “Drop my dad’s lunch off with Lucy, will you?”

He doesn’t argue. I leave the restaurant and let the door shut hard behind me.

I walk past the office. I don’t want to go in there right now.

My mind is a mess of emotions as I go for a long walk around the neighborhood. I end up sitting on a bench outside of a little park, staring at the ground and hating myself.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m such a coward. I want Shaun, want him so bad. But this baby is making things complicated, and my life’s complicated enough as it is.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe if I just let him in… we can work something out.

He did take me on a date. I have to admit, I liked it. I had a ton of fun up until the end, when I let my temper get the best of me. He’s smart and charming and funny, and I think he’s seriously interested in me.

I just don’t know him at all.

Then again, I have eight months to change that.

I sigh and stretch my legs before getting up. I have to head back to the office sooner or later, but I take the long way anyway, just because.6ShaunMy phone rings at sunrise three days later. I hesitate, staring at the screen, before picking it up.

My mother’s voice comes floating down through the receiver.

“Hello, Shaun,” she says.

“Mother.” My voice is still low from sleep.

“What time is it there?” she asks, pretending to be innocent, but she knows damn well that it’s early.