The Marriage Solution. Brenda Harlen
she said again.
“You’re being unreasonable, Tess.”
She didn’t think so. Unreasonable had been going home with Craig, kissing him, touching him, falling into bed with him. Now she was facing the consequences of those impulsive actions and she was determined to do so rationally and reasonably. She’d expected that he, of all people, would appreciate a logical approach to the situation. “I don’t expect anything from you, Craig.”
“Why the hell not?” he demanded.
She blinked at the anger in his tone. “Because…I’m not going to hold you responsible for something that was my fault.”
“Do I have to remind you again that we made this baby together?”
“You know what I mean,” she said, ignoring the heat that infused her cheeks. She certainly didn’t need him to remind her of the night they’d made love—the night their baby had been conceived.
“No, I don’t.”
She sighed. “We both know that what happened that night only happened because you were feeling sorry for me.”
He placed a finger under her chin, forced her to look at him. “Do you actually believe that?”
Uh-oh. This was dangerous. The simple touch set every nerve ending in her body on full alert and the way he was looking at her now had her hormones rocketing.
She’d often thought a woman would have to be blind not to notice his obvious good looks, and Tess’s almost perfect vision allowed her to fully appreciate the sun- kissed golden highlights in his dark blond hair, the deep brown eyes fringed with gloriously long lashes, the wide, full mouth that quirked easily into a grin, and the strong, square chin that held just the hint of a dimple. Then there was the body: six feet four inches of lean, solid and dangerously sexy male.
She’d known Craig since she was in junior high— he’d been in high school, an assistant coach of her baseball team and a basketball player himself. His wiry body had filled out since then. His shoulders were broader now, his muscles firmer.
But Craig Richmond was a lot more than a terrific face and gorgeous body. There was an aura about him, a confidence bordering on arrogance and the sheer force of his personality drew her even as her common sense warned her to stay far away. And now, just the touch of his hand on her chin was enough to send her pulse racing.
She knew he was waiting for an answer, but she couldn’t even remember the question. God help her, he’d simply touched her and her mind had gone blank.
“Do you really think I made love to you out of pity?” he asked.
She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “Didn’t you?”
He smiled, a slow, sexy curving of his lips that caused her heart to trip over itself. “No.”
The single word skimmed over her like a caress— teasing, tempting. She forced herself to pull away from him. She couldn’t afford to let her hormones overrule her common sense, not again.
“We made love that night because it was what we both wanted,” he reminded her.
She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the all too vivid memories. She didn’t want to remember how incredible it had been, the way she’d responded to Craig’s kisses, his touch. The way their bodies had come together, naturally, instinctively, as if they’d been made for each other. Even as she’d moved beneath him, she’d been painfully aware that no one had ever made her feel the way he did, and she knew that no one else ever would. Because no one else knew her like Craig did, no one understood her as he did. And the realization terrified her.
“I threw myself at you,” Tess said miserably. “I was feeling rejected and alone. I needed someone that night and you were there.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t pretend it wasn’t personal, because I don’t believe that for a minute. The attraction has been building for a long time—since the kiss we shared under the mistletoe last Christmas, if not longer.”
“That kiss didn’t mean anything,” she lied.
He propped a hip against the counter and quirked a brow. “Wanna try it now—so I can prove you wrong?”
“No,” she responded quickly.
His lips curved.
She crossed the room, needing to put some distance between them. This trek down memory lane wasn’t doing any good and it certainly wasn’t helping to solve her current dilemma.
“Friendship and chemistry are both solid foundations for a relationship,” he said. “And if we got married, our baby would have a real family.”
He almost sounded like he meant it—as if he wanted to marry her and be a father to their child. And though she wished, more than anything, that she could give her baby a family, she couldn’t do it like this. Marrying Craig for all the wrong reasons wouldn’t be right for any of them.
“It’s the twenty-first century,” she reminded him. “Our child won’t be ostracized by society because his parents never married.”
She couldn’t believe they were even having this conversation. All this talk about marriage and family from a man who wouldn’t date any woman for more than a month in case she got ideas about commitment, was making her head spin. Obviously her pregnancy had shaken both of them.
“Can we both just take a step back?” she suggested. “Let the reality sink in before we make any definite plans for the future?”
For a moment she thought he was going to refuse, but then he asked, “How far back?”
“I don’t know. I know there are a lot of decisions to be made, but I need time.” She looked up at him, silently pleading with him to understand. “I don’t want to screw this up. I don’t want to ruin our baby’s life by making bad choices.”
“You won’t.”
“How do you know?” she asked, her words less of a challenge than a plea for reassurance. “How am I supposed to know what’s the right thing to do?”
“We’ll figure it out together.”
“I wasn’t sure—after that night…”
“What?” he prompted gently.
She just shook her head.
“Why are you so determined to forget how spectacular we were together that night?”
She looked away from the heat in his eyes and tried to ignore the answering warmth that spread through her body. Spectacular didn’t begin to describe the night she’d spent in his arms. “Because remembering won’t do us any good.”
“Don’t you think physical compatibility is important in a marriage?”
“I think you should have your head examined.”
“Why won’t you at least consider it?” he challenged.
“Because I still have a dress hanging in my closet as a memento of the last man who promised to love me forever.”
She saw the shadows pass over his face, like clouds blocking out the sun. “I won’t make you any promises I can’t keep,” he said. “But I will take care of you and our baby and I will be faithful.”
She felt as if her heart was breaking—not just because she wanted more than he was offering, but because he believed he wasn’t capable of giving more. She had faith in the healing power of love, but Craig’s statement proved that the scars left by his mother’s abandonment still hadn’t healed and she had to wonder if they ever would. And she refused to set herself up for heartbreak by marrying someone who couldn’t love her.
“We made this baby together,” he continued when she didn’t respond. “And we should share that responsibility.