judge, and then—”
“Blake.” She couldn’t sit here and listen to this. “Don’t you think I’ve considered all the pros and cons of such a decision? A hundred times over?”
He knew her. As did everyone else in the tiny town she’d been born and raised in. Annie Kincaid was careful about everything she did.
When he remained silent, staring down at her as if she were a cross between a princess and a toad, she continued. “I don’t want you helping me out of guilt.”
“I’m not the one who remarried. Or chose husband number two over husband number one.”
She deserved that. At least in part. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t already said to herself at least once a day since his return.
“I’m sorry.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “That was unfair and uncalled for.”
“Cole’s crazy, Blake. And this idea of his was out of line. Just forget I ever asked. I’m going to tell my little brother to mind his own business and then I’ll get on with the business of living my own life.”
She had no idea why she was holding her breath. She just needed Blake to go.
“I can’t forget it.”
“Why not?”
“I have no idea.”
She couldn’t get away from the honesty in his reply. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
Little fingers of some long forgotten feeling crept through Annie’s lower parts. Had they just decided to make a baby? Together?
Flushed with heat, she wanted to jump up, move around, away. And instead, she couldn’t do anything but stare at him.
And remember.
Blake’s kiss, his taste had always been enough to unhinge her. His arms had offered her a unique mixture of strength and tenderness, providing a sense of safety, but never a feeling of confinement. And when his long legs were wrapped around hers…
“I want to be very clear up front.”
Annie glanced up, realizing that Blake had been talking to her. He’d shed his suit jacket sometime between his earlier visit and this one. Loosened his tie.
He looked tired.
And lonely?
“Up front?” she asked, swallowing when the words got stuck in her throat.
“I said I have a couple of stipulations.”
So that’s what she’d missed. Annie nodded, listening. Trying to focus.
“First, I’m not going to sign any contract that takes away my right to be a father to my own child.”
Walls rose, and Annie found it hard to continue listening; managed to do so only by assuring herself that as soon as he finished talking she was going to tell him that there was no deal.
“I’ll sign a contract that gives you custody of the child, that makes you the primary parent, but I want to be known to him or her, and to have visitation rights.”
Not as bad as she’d first thought. He was peering over at her, as though waiting for a response. Her nod was jerky at best.
“Second, it must be understood that this agreement in no way initiates any resurrection of a personal relationship between the two of us.”
That one was easy. “I agree completely.”
Head turned slightly, he gave her that assessing look that had always made her nervous.
“I mean it, Annie.”
Like she didn’t? “You’re the one who pointed out that I stayed with husband number two,” she blurted, before she had time to edit her words.
“I’m not a demonstrative guy. Never have been. You need demonstrations of affection. Hand holding and romance and esoteric promises.”
I love you would have been nice.
“I hurt you once. And I’ll live with the regret for the rest of my life. I can’t risk doing that again.”
“Blake…” She stood as she prepared to make her point. “You’re preaching to the converted here. The feelings I had for you died a long time ago. But even if they hadn’t, even if they somehow returned, I would never, ever go back to you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
HE DIDN’T FLINCH. Didn’t even blink. Which was so Blake. And exactly why Annie knew with certainty that her decision was the right one. He’d just proved her point.
“You’re a great person, Blake Smith. One of the very best. But I’ve done a lot of growing up these past six years. A lot of soul searching. I’ve engaged in some pretty brutally intense self-examination and I know myself a whole lot better than I did when I married you. My father’s suicide, my mother’s single-minded dedication to the church as a result, left their marks on me.”
Annie looked Blake straight in the eye. It felt good to be telling him this. As if maybe she was helping him, freeing him of any responsibility he might have felt for the failures in their relationship.
“I’m not going to live my life as a victim,” she continued, speaking straight from the heart. “I’m not going to blame my parents’ choices for any aspect of my own life. What I can do is offer myself understanding and acceptance, and change what I can and work with what I can’t.
“I know that I need a lot of love and support. I need words and gestures and all the little moments of love. I need to be able to express my feelings openly and often. That’s who I’ve turned out to be. And I’m okay with that.”
He was watching her, his hands in the pockets of his slacks, saying nothing. But the guarded look in his eyes was gentle.
“You, on the other hand,” she continued, taking a step closer, “have been shaped by your own life. Your parents dying while you were so young… Being raised by a man who never told you how much he cared about you…”
“He cared.”
“I know he did. But Alan never once told you so. And that had an effect on you—you’re just like him, Blake. Reticent. Withdrawn, when it comes to anything dealing with emotion.”
His “yeah” sounded almost like “so?” Annie’s heart fell, though there was no reason for it to have done so. She was only verbalizing the conclusion they’d both reached separately.
“Your way of life makes me feel a little locked up, emotionally.”
There. She’d said it. Clearly. Simply.
“I know that,” Blake said, but the tone of his voice, or maybe the look in his eyes, left her feeling as if there was more to be said. Or rather, more that he wasn’t saying.
Her first instinct was to call him on it. And then she gave herself a shake. Blake’s thoughts were his own affair. And an affair between the two of them was exactly what they didn’t need.
“So those are your stipulations?” Her voice sounded loud, as if she’d blurted the words just to fill a silence.
“I have one more.”
Wrapping her arms around her chest, she waited.
“I want this child conceived in the normal fashion.”
The tendrils swirled through her stomach again—and lower. Bringing a physical warmth to places down there that hadn’t been fully active since the last time she’d made love with her first husband.
Now was the moment to tell him that they didn’t have a deal. As soon as he’d finished speaking….
“I’m okay with that,” she said instead. And almost melted onto