Tame Me (The Macintyre Brothers 3) - Page 49

e front door finally opened and in Josh came, his helmet off, his hair soaked from his ride. It fell into his eyes in a very sexy way that made me want to run my fingers through it and brush it out of the way of his big blue eyes.

He smiled when he saw me and after parking his bike, he came right over and gave me a warm kiss.

"Good morning, Ms. Carlson. I'd hug you, but I'm in need of a shower. I'll be back in five."

"I'll have the bagels ready," I said and grabbed the bag from his hand, eager to get breakfast going.

While he showered, I prepared the bagels, and poured him a cup of coffee just the way he liked it.

Then, we sat side by side at the kitchen island and ate our bagels and had our coffee, reading the paper together, like we did every morning since we moved in together. We really were like an old married couple in that way, except it all felt new to me.

I loved it.

Once we were both ready, we took the elevator down together and kissed each other when it was time for Josh to get off.

"I'll talk to you later," he said, and I smiled and waved as the elevator doors closed.

I rode the rest of the way down to my floor alone, smiling to myself. Then, I went to my office and sat behind my desk, ready for another day at Dominion. I realized, as I sat at my desk and glanced around my office, that I was truly exceptionally lucky. I'd recovered from a bad broken heart after Jerkface and I broke up, I'd graduated and moved to Manhattan with my dream opportunity as a slush reader in hand, and then I'd met Josh -- one of the most eligible bachelors in Manhattan -- all in the space of five months.

It was like a dream – one I hoped I kept dreaming.

18

Josh

Thursday could not come fast enough.

Although I dreaded the news, I wanted to get it over with so I could deal with it and move on. Waiting was torture and as the hours ticked past, I sat at my desk and tried to focus on the reports from various departments at MBS to distract myself.

Finally, at around eleven thirty in the morning, after I'd gone for a long bike ride along the Hudson to clear my mind and kill time, I received an email from the lab. I sat and stared at the mail icon for a moment, trying to prepare myself for the news.

I kicked myself for being reluctant to open it. I'd seen combat in Afghanistan. I'd been through the deaths of both my parents and the breakup of an engagement.

By comparison, this was serious, but not the end of the world.

I opened the email and read the contents, my breath held.

* * *

Dear Mr. Macintyre:

Based on the results of our analysis of your DNA sample, we conclude that there is 0% likelihood that you are the father of the child. If you have any questions regarding this result, please feel free to call the office. One of our customer support team workers would be glad to answer them.

Sincerely,

Dr. James Fillmore

* * *

I leaned back in my chair and covered my face with my hands.

"Oh, thank God," I said to the room.

As the stress drained out of me, I felt a small tinge of regret. Although I didn't want to be the father to this child, I had mentally prepared myself to be the best father I could be to him or her and had even imagined holding my child after she or he was born. But Ella and I would have our own children one day -- hopefully soon. My desire to have a family would be satisfied with her.

I felt bad for Alicia. She'd figure out who the father was, and it would hopefully be someone responsible enough to look after her and the baby.

The first thing I did was call Ella. She answered her cell right away, probably knowing this call meant I had the results.

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