The Daddy Decision (6 page)

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Authors: Donna Sterling

BOOK: The Daddy Decision
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Cort cursed himself for being a fool. He hadn't meant to kiss her. He'd wanted only to apologize. What the hell had come over him? The apology itself had gone better than he'd hoped. She'd actually thanked him for it...and for his “honesty” when he'd left her.
Honesty
. He'd been deliberately crude. And cruel.
And she, God love her, had forgiven him Absolved him of all wrongdoing.
Time proved you right
, she'd said.
There wasn't anything between us except sex
.
His muscles had clenched as if he'd been sucker punched. He hadn't expected that from her. She'd always been so starry-eyed. Idealistic. Passionately, blindly in love with him.
A mocking voice laughed from somewhere deep inside him.
You didn't think she'd really fallen for a hood like you, did you? Of course she came to her senses. You knew she would
. Yes, he had known she would. He just hadn't realized how
much of an impact her new clear-sightedness would have on him.
And he hadn't known, until he'd kissed her, how damn much he still wanted her.
″Fletcher,” she was saying in that soft, affectionate way of hers that made a man feel sure he would always be the center of her universe, “you've got to come see Hoss and Tamika's baby. He's asleep upstairs. You don't mind, do you, Tam?”
Tamika waved her blessing. Laura caught hold of Fletcher's arm and urged him up the stairs.
Cort drank deeply of his brandy and waited for them to come back down. He knew they were going up to see the baby, but the sight of them climbing the stairs together twisted something in his gut. He remembered the times
he'd
climbed the stairs with her, leaving everyone else behind. They'd never reappeared until morning, or until circumstances demanded it.
The smartest thing he could do, Cort realized, trying not to glare at the empty stairway, was to call his answering service for messages, invent some crisis that needed his immediate attention and get the hell out of here.
But even as he thought it, he knew he wouldn't. Because he never had been one to give up on anything he wanted without a damn good reason. She'd run from him tonight. Twice. First because he'd held her, and then because he'd kissed her. She couldn't have made it more obvious that she didn't want him.
Or...that she didn't
want
to want him. He couldn't forget the way she'd responded to his kiss—as if she were still passionately, blindly in love with him.
No, he wouldn't delude himself into believing she was, or that she ever really had been. But neither would he turn his back on the possibilities raised by the combustible
chemistry between them. If sex was all they'd ever had, so be it. He could live with that. He could definitely liven up his holidays with that.
He would, he decided, stay. And satisfy his own “curiosity.” He'd discover just how many things about her—about
them
—hadn't changed at all.
One thing had. He could afford her now.
“Hey, Cort, I believe I saw a big-screen TV downstairs,” Hoss remarked, strolling over to stand beside him with a beer. “Bet we can catch the last quarter of the Georgia Tech game. How ′bout it?”
Cort welcomed the distraction. Rory set his guitar aside and followed them to the rec room, where they watched football, smoked cigars and shot a game of pool. B.J. soon joined them, and eventually, Fletcher did, too.
After the game, they all returned to the great room where Laura, Steffie and Tamika sat on the sofa, engrossed in quiet conversation. Cort had barely reached his favorite spot beside the fireplace when a shriek drew every gaze to Steffie.
“You're going to
what?”
Steffie cried, leaping up from the sofa and staring at Laura with wide, incredulous eyes. Tamika also gaped at Laura, openmouthed.
Laura's face, Cort noticed, turned a deep shade of red as her gaze shot beyond Steffie and Tamika to the others who were now listening. She put a finger to her lips to shush Steffie, but she was obviously beyond the shushing point.
“A baby?” Steffie screeched. “You're going to have a
baby? With Fletcher?

3
W
HY, OH WHY, had she opened her mouth about her plans? Laura could have kicked herself. But seeing her little godson sleeping so sweetly upstairs and knowing that she could have a baby of her own by this time next year had suddenly seemed so overwhelmingly exciting that she hadn't been able to keep from confiding in her two best friends.
She hadn't realized the others had returned to the great room, or that Steffie would shriek out the news.
Everyone now gaped at her, dumbfounded. Even Fletcher looked surprised, but only because he hadn't expected to share their plans just yet. He met her troubled gaze, and with a nervous but touchingly proud smile, he moved closer to her in a show of support.
“I don't understand,” Tamika said, breaking the stunned silence. “Have you been dating Fletcher? When the hell did
that
start? You call me every week, and never said a word about it.”
“How could you and Fletcher be having a baby?” Steffie's glossy dark hair swung around her piquant face as she shook her head in bewilderment.
“Are you telling me that
he
got you
pregnant?
” B.J. demanded in disbelief, her auburn eyebrows shooting up her pale forehead until they merged with her buzz cut.
“Wow. A baby,” mused Rory. “You and old Fletch. Cool.”
“He knocked you up?” Hoss pressed forward with his mighty shoulders squared, his glare at Fletcher a blatant threat. “What's he gonna do about it?”
“No, no, wait.” Laura stood up from the sofa and lifted her arms in a calming gesture as Fletcher shifted closer to her. “I guess I'd better explain.”
She cast a self-conscious glance around the room and became intensely aware of the one person who hadn't spoken; the one she refused to look directly in the eye. Cort stood with his broad shoulder jammed against the mantel and a brandy snifter clutched in his hand. That hand had frozen halfway to his mouth, his fingers curled in a fist around the delicate stern of his glass.
“Fletcher has agreed to father my baby,” Laura clarified, speaking to the group at large, “but I'm not pregnant yet. We've set an appointment to start trying next week.”
B.J. choked and spewed beer out of her nose. Steffie's jaw dropped. Tamika frowned.
Glass shattered near the fireplace. Cort stood with only the bowl of the snifter in his hand. The stern, it seemed, had cracked. The hearth below glinted with shards and jagged pieces of the snifter's base.
He didn't spare it a glance.
Laura wouldn't meet his gaze, but she felt it. His concentrated attention made her skin heat up and her stomach chum. She wished he wasn't here. Cort and his stirring gazes and drugging kisses had no place in her life—the safe, solid life she'd built for herself and her future baby. The sooner she could put her plan into action, the better.
“You've
set an appointment
to start trying?” Hoss's wide forehead crinkled in bewilderment. “If you need an appointment, sugar, I can't see this relationship working out.”
“I still don't understand,” Tamika loudly complained. “Are you and Fletcher in love? Are you getting married?”
“A baby,” Rory repeated. “You and old Fletch. Who would have thought it?”
“Why's everyone so darned surprised?” Fletcher grumbled. “I'll make a good dad. I coach kids' baseball every summer.”
“But I thought you two were just friends,” Tamika said.
“We are,” Laura confirmed.
“I mean,
platonic
friends,” Tamika specified.
“Exactly.”
“Then how—?”
“Oh!” Laura felt her face flush with embarrassment as she realized where much of their confusion lay. “We intend to do it by artificial means.” At the continued blank looks, she expounded, “You know, scientifically. At a clinic.”
“Not that it's anyone's business,” Fletcher muttered.
“Would anyone like another drink?” Steffie inquired a little too brightly as she took the broken brandy glass from Cort's hand and nudged the shattered pieces from the hearth into the fireplace with her foot. “Or two? Or three?”
“Mercy sakes alive!” Tamika planted her hands on her hips. “Isn't artificial insemination expensive?”
“A little,” Laura admitted, “but—”
“Then why do artificial insemination?” A puzzled frown knit Rory's blond eyebrows. “Save the cash, man. If you guys are sure you want a kid, just go upstairs and—”
“Why don't you shut up and play that damn guitar of yours?” Cort suggested to him quietly, ready to strangle Rory with his own ponytail if he finished verbalizing that thought.
“Fletcher's right,” Laura proclaimed. “It's no one's business how we choose to accomplish our objectives. I
shouldn't have even told you.” She glared at every face—except Cort's, which she avoided entirely. “I don't want to hear any more discussion about that aspect of our plan.”
Only when everyone looked sufficiently abashed did her expression mellow. “Think instead about the end result. A baby! Don't you see how perfect this will be? Fletcher and I have been friends for fifteen years. We know, really know, how the other thinks and feels about the important issues of life. We'll be giving our son or daughter a sturdy base that won't be ripped apart by emotional upheaval or divorce.”
“Oh, God,” Steffie groaned, burying her face in her hand. “I should have known you'd resort to something like this.”
“I'm going to ask one more time before I start busting heads,” Tamika warned. “Are you two getting married, or not?”
“No! That's the beauty of it. Our parenting alliance will be based on mutual respect, not...whimsy.” Laura's color deepened, and she added, “Or, worse, sex.”
An invisible hand tightened around Cort's throat. She hadn't as much as glanced his way, but he felt as if she'd pointed at him as an example of a past sexual disaster. She'd used the word
whimsy
earlier to describe the lesson she'd learned from him.
Was
he
to blame for this? Had his callous dismissal of their affair set her against sexual relationships altogether? Had her disillusionment at such a young age turned her to science to father her child—
and to Fletcher
? The hand around Cort's throat squeezed with a vengeance.
“We'll go on living the way we have been.” She settled down onto the sofa and Fletcher sat beside her. “Friends and partners. We'll share custody and live within walking distance of each other, as we do right now. And we'll bring
up our child in the faith we both happen to share. What can be more perfect?”
“A happy marriage?” suggested Steffie.
“Oh, come on, Stef,” Laura admonished softly. “You know how rare an animal
that
is.”
Steffie flushed, unable to argue. She had, after all, just come through a divorce herself.
“All of us know how painful it can be for a child growing up in a broken home,” Laura said, “or with parents so resentful of each other that they spend all their time trying to spite the other.”
No one could deny that she had a point. They'd all come from families whose relationships were less than blissful. Their lack of satisfying family ties had been the common denominator that had drawn them together in the first place.
“Well, call me old-fashioned, but I believe in love and marriage,” Tamika declared, “and having children in wedlock.”
“Of course you do,” Laura replied patiently. “You're one of the rare, lucky few who are happily married. But that's only because you've known Hoss for so long. You've developed a good, strong friendship over the years, just like mine and Fletcher's.”
“It's
not
like yours and Fletcher's,” argued Tamika.
“It is! Well, minus the sex. Which, in the grand scheme of things, is really a minor detail.”
“Minor detail!” Hoss turned an outraged frown to Tamika. “Did she say ‘minor detail'?”
“Calm down, Hoss.” His wife patted his arm with an affectionate smirk. “She didn't mean it as a slur against you.”
“Minor detail,” he muttered. He narrowed his eyes at Laura. “Who the hell have you been sleeping with, girl?”
“No one, I'll bet,” Steffie retorted.
“Steffie!” Laura stared at her in reproach, clearly embarrassed.
“It's true, isn't it? When was the last time you had a real relationship with a man?”
Laura rose from the sofa with her lips compressed and an angry, wounded expression in her eyes. “I can't believe this.” Her soft voice shook as she looked around the room. “I expected you, our best friends, to be happy about our news. To share in our joy of starting a family. But no. Here you are, acting like a bunch of high school kids, focusing on...on sex!”
“Or lack thereof,” B.J. quipped dryly.
“Oh, Laur, I'm so sorry!” Steffie's eyes shone with contrition as she enfolded Laura in a hug. “Of course I'm happy for you. We're
all
happy for you. You'll make a wonderful mother, and Fletcher will be a great dad. And we all want to be good aunts and uncles.”
“We're just worried about this...this sudden decision,” Tamika gently added.
“It's a crazy, harebrained scheme,” Hoss insisted. “Sex ain't no minor detail.”
Laura drew away from Steffie and rounded on Hoss. “Sex is entirely beside the point!”
“She's right.”
Cort's quiet proclamation plunged the room into stunned silence—maybe because no one had expected him to contribute to the conversation...or to take that particular stand.
He leveled a cool stare at Laura, whom he'd surprised into actually looking at him. “Sex
is
beside the point,” he agreed, strolling from the fireplace to join the group, “unless it causes a problem in your relationship some time down the road.”
“It won't,” Laura quietly swore.
As Cort advanced, she sat down again on the sofa beside Fletcher, as if she needed his nearness for moral support.
Cort fought to suppress a scowl. Why the hell had she chosen
Fletcher
to play such a pivotal role?
The father af her baby.
The very idea filled Cort with aversion. He knew what that role would mean to Laura. She'd be bound to him in an utterly profound way for the rest of her life.
He lowered himself into an armchair directly across from them. “If you don't mind, I'd like to play the devil's advocate for a moment.” No one voiced an objection. “What will happen if—or rather,
when
—either of you becomes involved with someone else? Don't you think that might create the exact kind of emotional turmoil you're trying to avoid?”
“No,” Laura maintained, “because we're friends, not lovers. There won't be any jealousy or heartbreak. Fletcher is free to engage in any relationship he wants. He's been involved in quite a few already, with women I've admired very much, and it hasn't caused the least problem between us.”
“What if he became involved with someone you didn't admire? Or someone who resented you and your child's role in his life? Wouldn't you feel that relationship might threaten your child's happiness?”
“I trust Fletcher's judgment. He wouldn't become involved with anyone like that. I also know that he′ll put the welfare of our child first and foremost in his life.”
“And if he doesn't?”
“He will!”
Cort shifted his gaze away from an indignant Laura. Raising one eyebrow, he asked Fletcher, “What about you? Would you have a problem with Laura becoming... involved...with someone else?”
Fletcher stared at Cort as if he suspected a trap. “I want her to be happy,” he replied slowly. “I would never object to any relationship that makes her happy.”
Cort nodded, duly impressed. “That's noble of you.” He leaned forward, his forearms braced on his knees, his gaze drilling into Fletcher's. “But you haven't exactly answered my question. I didn't ask if you would
object.
” Patiently, he rephrased his question. “Would it disturb you to know that she was sleeping with someone else?”
The attention directed at Fletcher suddenly grew intense. Everyone seemed to be scrutinizing him, ready to evaluate the honesty of his answer. Everyone, that was, except Laura, who kept a steady, confident gaze on Cort. She clearly had no doubt about what Fletcher's reply would be, or its validity.
Cort wondered if anyone but him noticed the slight flaring of Fletcher's nostrils or the tightening of his bottom lip. ″No,” Fletcher finally answered. “It wouldn't disturb me.”

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