Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
He laughs and the knot in my chest loosens. “I told you I’m irresistible.”
“Hardly.” I rest my head against his shoulder, blaming pregnancy hormones for finding him so fucking hot right now.
I reach out and grab the ultrasound picture. “That’s the baby,” I say, pointing to the little blob. “I’m eight weeks and got to see the heart beating today too.”
Noah takes the pictures from me, bringing it close to his face. His expression is neutral.
“Fuck,” he finally says.
“I agree,” I say with a sigh.
“We had sex six weeks ago, and you’re eight weeks along … Am I missing something?”
“You start out at two weeks. It’s confusing, I know. I’m eight weeks along but the baby is only six weeks old … if that makes sense.”
“It doesn’t.” He hands me the images. “This is ass backwards, but let me take you on a first date?”
My first inclination is to tell him no, that it’s not worth it. Because I don’t have faith in him, that I know better. Because a first date with Noah isn’t going to lead to a second. A first date isn’t going to change him, isn’t going to make him flip a switch and settle down…as much as I wish it could.
But I need to give him a chance—a chance to prove that he isn’t up for this, that he’s not going to stand by me and this child in any way other than helping pay for food and clothing. I need to witness it first hand, hell, maybe even get my heart broken so I can scratch this off forever and move on, raising this child the best that I can.
In the end, that’s all that matters.
And in order to do that, I need to let him take me on that first date.
“Deal,” I say.
“This Friday night?”
“I get off work at seven.”
“So I’ll pick you up at eight?”
“Eight thirty. Give me some time to get ready.”
Noah rests his hand on my thigh. “So this means I can fuck you again, right? It’s not like I can knock you up twice.”
I turn, raising an eyebrow. “It takes at least three dates and some good food to get into my pants.”
“I already proved that wrong. Don’t be a prude.”
I sigh. Yep. This first date is totally going to show me how much Noah isn’t ready to be a father.
Chapter 8
NOAH
I HAVE GOT to clean up my act.
No more drinking. No more getting arrested. And no more one-night stands. Fuck. What am I going to do with my time? And I can drink … just not in excess like I had been. I can do this. For her. For them.
Lauren is having a baby. My baby. I’m going to be a dad.
I’m also going to throw up.
Is this really happening? The ultrasound pictures don’t lie, and neither does Lauren. We are having a baby.
Together.
It would be a damn lie if I said there’s a part of me that isn’t happy about this. Because there is. Knocking Lauren Winters up is the last thing I wanted to do, but knocking her up means I get a chance to make her fall in love with me.
A chance to make her mine.
It’s the chance I never got so many years ago. And now that it’s right in front of me, I’m fucking terrified. Add in the baby and it’s just about enough to make me lose it completely.
I lean back in my leather chair at my desk, unable to concentrate on doing any sort of work. I run my hands over my face and log onto the internet to do some research about babies and pregnancy. Looking up info does nothing to soothe my nerves, but only reminds me of how little I know, and makes me feel guilty for everything Lauren is going through.
I’ve never held a baby. Never changed a diaper or given a bottle. The leather chair crunches under me as I lean back, running my hands over my beard. We’ll figure this out. And maybe, by some extreme miracle, I can pull off this Daddy thing.
The thing is, I want to be a good dad. I want to be there for Lauren and for the baby. But, how? The only father figure I had in my life was a pathetic excuse for a man. Can I step up to the plate and not repeat his errors?
I left Lauren’s house with nothing set between us. We’re going slow, going to give being together a try. She needs it. She needs time to fall for me.
And she will. I won’t give up until her heart is mine.
But for now, we’re taking things slow, one day at a time. We’re not a couple, not even dating. Can I even call her my friend? We’ve never hung out one on one, and my interactions with her before were less than genuine since I was hiding how I felt.