I didn’t feel right not picking her up and driving her to the restaurant like a gentleman. Hell, Bren could be the mother of my unborn child. But then, of course, nothing about this whole situation felt right—not my clothes, not the way it happened, and certainly not the way it might end up. But then, well, maybe it really was fate.
I glanced at my phone, knowing it wouldn’t tell me anything my internal clock hadn’t told me already.
Bren was late. Which left me to sit here, wondering if I’d been stood up.
When I’d called her earlier today, she’d sounded willing enough—no doubt she wanted to plan out what would happen if the results came back the way she expected them to…the way we both expected them to.
But then, on some level, I thought we both already knew the answers. I would be there with her, take care of our baby, and make sure her delivery went as smoothly as it could. I would help her and I would love our child. There was no question I would be there for my baby in every way I could.
What was less certain was how she and I would do. How we would get along aside from our one night of hot, passionate sex. Even though my gut told me it was right, I had to admit I didn’t really know her at all. I knew her body well enough. But I needed to get to know the woman attached to it.
Before this baby came—if it came at all—I wanted to get to know her. Wanted to see if the reality lived up to the fantasy I’d built up in my mind about who Bren could be to me.
The one.
My phone buzzed on the table in front of me and I glanced at it. When I saw it was from Bren and read the word “here”, I breathed a sigh of relief. Glancing around, I spotted her standing in the bright sun pouring through the glass doors. I waved her over to the table I’d requested near the wide bay windows overlooking the water.
She offered me a nervous smile, then headed over, hitching her purse on the back of the chair before settling into the seat opposite me. “Fancy place,” she said.
I nodded. “Hope you don’t mind. They have the best Arnold Palmers here, and since you’re probably not drinking, I thought…”
She bit her bottom lip, a soft pink glow taking over her cheeks. “Thanks. That was thoughtful.”
A long silence stretched between us, and I glanced out at the water just as a fish jumped into the air and splashed back down.
I know how you feel, buddy. Less than five minutes and I’m already floundering…
My mind raced, searching for the right words to say to fill the awkward pause. Something that wouldn’t give her any reason to want to run away from me. Bren dug through her big bag and pulled out a stack of crisp white papers. “Look, uh, I know this is weird, but I drew up some ideas for custody and—”
I took the sheets and set them aside. “I get that and why you want to do it, and if it turns out that’s necessary, I promise I’ll look at them. But it’s jumping the gun, to say the least. I don’t want to talk about the elephant in the room,” I said. “We had a good first date—let’s consider this the second. I just want to have a nice dinner and get to know you.”
Bren’s wide eyes conveyed her surprise. Maybe she thought we’d get right down to business. Surprise. Bet you didn’t consider that I wouldn’t allow you to build another wall between us.
“We didn’t do much talking that night once we left the bar,” Bren murmured, though her shoulders seemed to relax a bit as she settled more deeply into her chair. “But sounds like a good plan anyway.”
A waitress came by and took our drink orders, and as Bren perused the menu, I grabbed a roll from the basket between us and began to apply a liberal amount of butter. “So, you know I’m a doctor.”
She let out a little yelp of laughter. “That became pretty obvious when you walked into the exam room when I had my legs in the air.”
I grinned, stunned at how warm that little laugh made me feel inside. “Yeah…that was regrettable.” She’d discovered I was a doctor when I had my fingers inside her. “But anyway, what do you do for work?”
She glanced at me over the menu. “You don’t want to get me started on it.”
“Why? Are you a secret agent? If you tell me, you’ll have to kill me and all that.”
She chuckled, and I caught a flash of her pretty white teeth. That smile. Dammit, it might be the death of me because I felt heat tingle from my scalp to my toes as I stared at her mouth. “No, my friends just always regret asking me about my job because I never shut up about it, so I’m warning you now. Back away while you still can.”
“I’ll consider myself warned. Now, what do you do?” I asked again, even more interested now that I knew how passionate she was about her work.
“I’m a conservationist at the zoo here in the city.” She beamed, finally loosening up and giving me a glimpse of the real Bren. The one I wanted to get to know better. “It’s the best job in the entire world.”
Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I found myself grinning back at her again like a fool. Jesus, this woman did something crazy to my insides, and I sure as fuck didn’t hate it.
“That’s sounds like a really awesome job. Tell me more.”
She nodded, her hair falling over her face as she popped a chunk of bread in her mouth and chewed before continuing. “Mostly I work in the cheetah enclosure. They’re fascinating animals. You know, we pair them with dogs because on their own they actually get really lonely, so it’s this precious thing where the dog thinks he’s the alpha and he eats before the cheetah and almost leads his buddy, and the cheetah and the dog become like besties. It’s amazing.”
“Are you serious?”
She nodded again, her eyes bright. I swallowed as I imagined her naked beneath me, looking up at me with that same hypnotic gaze. “Each pair sort of has their own personality.”
“So, which is your favorite?”
“Cocoa and Nibs. Nibs is a chocolate Lab and Cocoa is his cheetah best friend. They were born on the same day and they do everything together. You’ve never seen anything more adorable in your life.” She pulled her phone from her purse and slid it closer to me before pressing the central control and showing me a picture of two animals spooning while they slept—a chocolate Lab the big spoon and a cheetah the little spoon.
“That would break the Internet if you posted it. And blow people’s minds. Cats and dogs are not supposed to act like that,” I said, genuinely impressed. “That’s amazing. How did you not tell me all this before?”
“Like I said, I get a little caught up and I don’t want to monopolize every conversation, so I have to watch myself. But I’m done now, really. Tell me more about you.”
The waitress reappeared with our drinks and I took a sip while considering her. I wanted to know more about her days—how she spent them, which of the animals she liked the most, but I also didn’t want to pressure her.