“Deep sea, yes. Once. A client of mine took me out to thank me for reorganizing his investment portfolio. I caught a 52-pound white sea bass, but I released it because it really was a striking fish. I eat fish, but I don’t usually look them in the eye before I do. That one knew it, too. He gave me a good long stare that guilted me right into returning him to the water.” Viviana laughed, and the happier she looked the better Grant felt.
“Connor releases them as well. Dylan teases him mercilessly about it. Once, Connor went so far as to release all their catches then buy some fillets on the way home so we could have fish for dinner. He’ll be glad to have another man on his side.”
“And you?” He guessed at what her answer would be, but honestly, he wasn’t sure until she confirmed it.
“I catch and release. Same reason as you. I’m okay with eating animals as long as I don’t meet them first.”
“Hypocrites, both of us.”
“Yep.” She held out a plate. “Bacon?”
He took a few slices of bacon and bit into one before adding, “Our child will probably be no better.”
She froze halfway through sipping from a glass of water and started choking. When she was able to speak again, she whispered, “Our child.”
He wondered if she’d said it that way because she felt as he did. Before the baby he wanted to be with her. Now, however, there was more riding on how this turned out. It was a pressure that hadn’t been part of his previous relationships. He didn’t consider the existence of that element good nor bad—it simply was.
He didn’t share that thought, though. He was still choosing his words carefully. They were in the unique position of having their lives intimately intertwined before really knowing each other. Until that changed it was anyone’s guess what the future held. “Are you hoping for a girl or a boy?” he asked.
“I’d settle for healthy,” she answered without hesitation.
The fact that he would have answered his question exactly the same way brought a huge smile to his face. On the surface they could not have been more different, but in all the ways that mattered they meshed. It wasn’t impossible to imagine co-parenting their child.
A knock on the door announced the arrival of her family. “Hang on,” Grant called out. He finished his juice in one gulp, rose to his feet, and cracked his knuckles.
On impulse, he took Viviana by the hand and spun her in a dance move that ended with her bent over his arm in a dip his dance instructors would have applauded. While her mouth was still rounded with surprise he kissed her deeply.
He let that say what he wasn’t ready to: She was his and he wasn’t going anywhere.
When he released her, she looked up at him with that look again—the one that made his heart pound and his blood rush southward. “Although now I need another minute or I’m going to look really excited to see them.”
Viviana laughed, a deep hearty laugh that was followed by another bang on the door. “That would be bad.”
Grant imagined that scene and the problem resolved itself.
That night, after a morning of fishing, an afternoon of touring her small hometown, and a sober dinner with her family, Grant and Viviana sat side by side on the steps of her father’s house. It had been a day filled with easy laughter that had exceeded how she’d hoped Grant and her family would get along. The wonderful part was she knew it was real, her brothers would never pretend to like someone they didn’t—not even for her, not even because their father told them to.
Getting to know Grant in this setting was confusing. On one hand, being with him was exciting and every look they exchanged left her glowing. On the other hand, dating while pregnant was scary as all hell. What were the rules? The pitfalls? Did she dare allow herself to imagine a traditional family unit could sprout from something that had started in a juice bar storage room?
“Are you sure you want to stay here? You could sleep on my couch again.” What had seemed like an innocent suggestion came out sounding like a husky suggestion.
He flexed his shoulders and expelled a breath like a man mentally preparing himself to run a marathon. “For now, this is where I belong. It matters to your father.”
“We’re adults—”
He turned toward her. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t care what your father thinks of me—of us.”
She didn’t even attempt that lie. “I do.” She sighed. “I guess I don’t know how to navigate this. What are we doing?”
He tucked her to him and kissed the top of her head. “I’m wading through an intense period of sexual frustration and determining our compatibility while facilitating a positive relationship with people I hope become my family.”
“Wow, that’s one way to describe it.”
“What are you doing?”
Trying not to fuck you again and figuring out if a future with you is possible while hoping my family doesn’t kill you. “Same as you.”
He gave her a lusty grin. “Even the wading part?”
“I should say no, but, yes, even that.” She slapped his shoulder playfully.
He tipped her face toward his and looked down into her eyes for a long moment. “I want you to know that when I lied to you about my last name I didn’t think it would matter. I didn’t think you’d matter.”
Okay. Breathe. Remember he doesn’t know how to phrase things well. “Should I be insulted?”
“Not at all. I’m explaining that I don’t feel that way anymore. I’m saying what you said last night. You’re important to me.”
She caressed his cheek while gauging his level of seriousness. Yep, he was one hundred percent not joking. He really does need to get out of his office more and spend time with people. “If you had left off the first part I probably would have thrown my arms around your neck, kissed you senseless, and thought it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to me.”
He frowned. “Which part should I have left off? About your family?”
She smiled and shook her head. “After that.”
“About how you’re important to me?” He looked confused.
She gave up, laughed, and kissed him. She’d dated men who said all the right things but didn’t have half the integrity Grant did. Actions were what made a man. “Don’t worry about it.”
He deepened the kiss then raised his head with a smile. “You’re good for me, do you know that?”
A warmth spread through her, leaving her head-to-toe happy. Taking a page from his book, she said, “I’m still deciding if you’re the best thing to ever happen to me or my biggest mistake.”
“Ouch,” he said with a less bright smile.
She searched his face. Despite what he’d said up to this point, she needed to ask a question that kept returning to her. “Would you be here if I weren’t pregnant?”
He ran gentle fingers through her hair. “Would you be with me if I weren’t wealthy??
?
His question floored her. “Of course I would be.”
“I don’t know if you knew who I was before our first meeting. I don’t know if your pregnancy was an accident or strategic. If I needed you to prove your innocence, could you?”
She quickly thought of a variety of possible things she could say, but realized as she did that all would end with him having to accept her word as truth. “No, I guess I couldn’t.”
He traced one side of her neck. “Then the choice that lies before both of us is one of trust. I’m here with you because I want to be. If you weren’t pregnant, I would still be here. You can believe me or not. There is no magic wand I can wave that will remove your doubts if you decide to hold onto them.”
Had another man said the last part it might have sounded cold. The more Viviana got to know Grant the more she saw that he detached and leaned heavily on logic when things became too emotional for him. Rather than raise his voice and rant, she could imagine him organizing his point of view and hers on a spreadsheet then going over each like talking points in a meeting.
Part of her wanted to shake him and say that especially on these big life issues it was okay to be confused. Part of her wanted to hug him and ask him what had taught him to withdraw and rationalize rather than feel.
They sat there quietly for several minutes as she thought about how quickly he had become part of her life. I said yes to dating him, but simply spending time with him isn’t enough, is it, if I continue to doubt him? My fears are justifiable, but he’s right—it’s my choice to hold onto them or not.
If he asked me if I’m with him for his money he must have asked himself that same question. To be honest, if I were him, those would be legitimate concerns. I did go after him. Yes, it takes two to do what we did, but a woman who wanted a rich husband might have orchestrated something like that.
And yet he is here.
Viviana said, “I called my doctor for a referral to an obstetrician. I have an appointment on Friday afternoon at two. My doctor said they’ll probably do a sonogram to determine how far along I am. Would you like to come with me?”
