you’re too afraid of being hurt again to let anyone get that close.”
“I didn’t know you got a psych degree along with your MBA.”
The dripping sarcasm in her voice proved that he’d made his point. He only regretted that he’d hurt her in the process.
“I don’t need a pysch degree because I know you,” he reminded her gently.
She sighed. “Okay. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m as much a coward as you are a commitment-phobe. Which suggests to me that a marriage between us would be doomed from the start.”
“Except that we’re also both stubborn and determined,” he reminded her. “If we wanted to, we could make it work.”
She set the spoon down, looked up at him and he saw the conviction in her deep blue eyes. “I remember what kind of marriage my parents had, how much they loved each other. I was only eight when my dad died but I remember how happy they were together.
“When my mother married Ken, I knew right away it was different. She was on her own with me, he was on his own with Laurie. They married to give us—me and Laurie—a family, but neither of them was ever really happy.”
“That doesn’t mean we couldn’t be,” he persisted.
“If I get married, I want it to be because someone wants to be with me, not because I’m carrying his child.”
“I do want to be with you, Tess. I want us both to be there for our baby. I don’t know how this love thing works. I’m not even sure I believe it exists—not love of the happily-ever-after variety, anyway. But I want this baby to know he has two parents who will always be there for him, and the best way to ensure that is by getting married.”
She placed a hand over her chest. “I think that’s the most romantic proposal I’ve heard yet.”
He felt the frustration building inside him. “Is that what you want—romance?” he demanded. “Would it make a difference if I filled the room with flowers and soft music and candlelight?”
“No,” she said again and shook her head. “Nothing is going to make a difference because we both know it would be worse for our child to live in a loveless home than to have two parents who never married.”
“We could make a marriage work, Tess.”
“Do you really want to take that chance? Do you want our child to find himself in the middle of a custody battle if it doesn’t?”
“No, I don’t,” he admitted, understanding that she was only thinking about what he and his brother had gone through. “But that wouldn’t happen because we would always do what was best for our child.”
“That’s why I want to work out the details of custody and access now.”
“I don’t want access,” he said stubbornly. “I want my child to know he’s an important part of my life every day, not just on alternate weekends.”
“Is this about Charlene walking out on you?”
She never referred to the woman who’d given birth to him as his mother, because she felt—as he did—that Grace, his father’s second wife, was more of a mother to him than Charlene had ever been.
“This is about you and me and our baby,” he insisted.
But Tess—being Tess—didn’t accept his denial. She reached across the table and laid her hand on top of his.
“Charlene couldn’t handle the responsibility of having children,” she said. “But you’ve made it clear that you want to be a part of our baby’s life, and I would never stand in the way of that.”
He turned his hand over, laced his fingers with hers. Her hand was so small inside his and yet he drew comfort and strength from her presence, gained a measure of peace from her understanding. She knew him better than anyone, she understood his hopes and fears and she was always there for him. It was the kind of unconditional acceptance he’d never been sure of with any other woman, and yet another reason he believed they would make a marriage work.
But she was holding out for love, and as much as he cared about her, that wasn’t something he could give her. If he could love anyone, he wanted to believe it would be Tess. But he didn’t have it in him. And he wouldn’t lie to her—he wouldn’t use the words she wanted to hear to get what he wanted. Or maybe he just knew better than to even try because Tess would see right through him.
She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re going to be a wonderful daddy, Craig.”
“Don’t you mean part-time daddy?” He hated to think about missing a single day of his child’s life. He’d been five years old when his parents split up, but he remembered the feeling of loss, the sense of rejection when his mother walked out on them.
It had been months later before Charlene Richmond had decided she wanted to share custody of her children—or maybe she finally realized that by having them live with her part-time, she could get significant financial support from her husband. And the next few years had been a constant shuffle from one house to the other for Craig and his brother, Gage, the only consistent presence in their life being the nanny their father had hired and who accompanied them from place to place. Because as much as Charlene claimed she wanted to spend time with her sons, she was content to let the nanny deal with their day-to-day needs and, in fact, rarely interacted with them during their visits.
Then, one day when they showed up, she just wasn’t there. All she’d left was a note saying that she was getting married and moving out of the country and was, therefore, relinquishing full custody to the boys’ father.
At first, Craig had been relieved—the fighting would finally stop and he and Gage would finally be able to settle in one place. But the relief had soon been replaced by a niggling fear that his father might decide to go away, too. That no one loved him enough to stand by him.
He wouldn’t let his child feel the same way.
As much as Tess understood Craig’s reasons for wanting to get married, she wasn’t willing to sacrifice what was left of their friendship and give up her own dreams for a marriage of convenience she believed was destined to fail.
But when he looked at her as he was looking at her now, with such intensity and determination, she could feel her resolve weakening. Then he stroked his thumb over her skin and she felt a frisson of awareness skate up her arm and warmth spread through her body.
She tried to pull her hand away, knowing that if she had any hopes of maintaining a clear perspective on things, she couldn’t allow him to touch her. But Craig held firm.
“I’ve tried not to pressure you—”
She almost laughed at the absurdity of the statement as she felt the pressure closing in on her from all sides.
“—but you can’t keep your pregnancy a secret forever. Let’s go away somewhere and get married before the speculation begins.”
And despite all her reasoning and common sense she actually found herself tempted by the idea. Because the thought of having this baby on her own, of being—if not solely, at least primarily—responsible for its happiness and well-being, terrified her. But she’d never been the type to balk at a challenge or take the easy way out and she wasn’t going to do so now just because she was scared.
She carefully withdrew her hand from his grasp. “I can’t marry you, Craig.”
“Think about this logically,” he said. “We’ve known each other for years. What we have between us—friendship, trust, respect—they’re more important than love. And more enduring. There’s no reason for a marriage between us not to work.”
She didn’t buy his argument. Yes, friendship, trust and respect were important, but she wouldn’t enter into a marriage without love. “Look at your parents. Your dad and Grace,” she amended. “It’s