“I want a baby.”
“You said that too.”
“Tony, stop interrupting me. This is hard enough.”
He grinned, nodded and propped his elbows on the arms of the chair, bringing his fingers to his lips. He was so embarrassingly attractive, the idea of making a baby with him had her toes curling in her shoes and heat creeping up her face.
She looked to the brilliant white crown molding over his head. “A couple years ago I decided time was running out, and if I wanted to ever have a baby I was going to have to make it a major focus. When I wasn’t working on my other major focus—design—I was systematically dating prospective husbands and fathers. I know that sounds desperate and terribly unromantic, but I tend to be a methodical person.” Tony chuckled. Trish gave him the stink eye. “Anyhow, that didn’t work so well. Everyone fell short.”
“Except me.” He grinned.
“Shush.” She would not let that grin rattle her. “I thought about a sperm bank.” Her cheeks heated again. “But not knowing either of my biological parents, it’s important to me that my child knows both of his or hers. So it was back to dating, only this time I didn’t care about finding a husband. My sole focus was to find a man I could have a baby with. No strings, really. Except I hoped he’d be willing to see the child a couple times a year. After Jackson likened having kids to having surgery without anesthesia, I was starting to give up hope, but then…”
“Me.” He rested his folded hands in his lap.
“You.” Trish nodded. “All the talk about Nonna’s list, and your comment about wanting kids but not the marriage. And…the chemistry between us.” She studied the crown molding again. “I had to ask. You may be my best shot.”
“I’m flattered.”
“But you still think I’m crazy.”
“No, I get why you want a baby, and I respect that you’ve given it a lot of thought.”
“But you don’t want to have a baby with me.”
He laughed, stood and crossed the carpet to settle on the sofa beside her where he wrapped his hands around hers. “There’s still more to think about.”
“Like?”
His thumbs traced tiny circles on her knuckles. “What’ll Ange say about this?”
Trish managed a painful swallow as she watched Tony’s thumbs swirl. She wished the luscious sensation of being held in his hands outweighed the sickening sensation of imagining Angie’s reaction to the news. “She wasn’t happy I asked you to the wedding.”
“Exactly. Vin wasn’t happy either. We could screw up a lot here, Trish.”
She knew that, but she knew something else, too. “Think of Nonna, Tony.” Trish squeezed his hands. “And what if we had a son? We could do a lot of good here, too.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tony didn’t think Trish was crazy, but he might be. Sitting on the couch beside her with the proposition floating between them, he was 99 percent in favor of having a baby with her. It would certainly solve his problem of what big, happy contribution he could make to Nonna’s wish list. And heck, he wasn’t getting any younger. Thirty-three wasn’t old, but if he waited for the urge to do things the traditional way, it would be too late.
He glanced at her, studying the palms of her hands. She slid a stack of silver rings up and down her index finger. If he was going to have a child with anyone, she’d be a good choice, not because of any romantic notions, but because he liked her, respected her, knew she’d raise a child right, which in Tony’s opinion meant lots of love and security. If her business and friendships were any indication, Trish DeVign didn’t do anything halfway.
And heck, she was gorgeous. Making a kid with her was bound to create a perfect human specimen. Still, it wasn’t an easy decision. There were…logistics. Whens and hows. Not that he didn’t know how to get a woman pregnant, but Trish was the designer of this plan, maybe she wanted to handle things medically rather than the old-fashioned way.
Tony liked the old-fashioned way.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his widened knees. “You said you’ve been thinking about this for a long time, got it all planned out. How exactly did you imagine making this baby?”
She squirmed on the cushion beside him, shoving her folded hands between her locked thighs. “The usual way.”
Tony smiled.
“I’m totally clean,” she continued. “I can get paperwork from my doctor as proof. I was just there…to make sure, so you don’t have to worry about that. Of course, I’d want verification that you’re good, too. Oh, and you don’t have to worry about knocking my socks off or anything. It’s purely clinical. Tactical. You know?”
No. He didn’t. He hadn’t had sex in the purely clinical sense since he was seventeen. He wasn’t sure he could go back to that, even if he wanted to. “That’s a bummer. You said we had chemistry.”
“We do.”
“Then what makes you think we can’t have a little fun while we make a baby?”
She shrugged. “I’m a little uptight when I’m trying to achieve something.” She looked everywhere but him, pulling her bottom lip between rows of perfect teeth.
He chuckled. “Are we talking baby or orgasm here?”
The red of her cheeks matched the red stripe on her walls. “Both,” she squeaked.
He squeezed her knee. “Trust me. You would be in good hands—on both accounts.”
Either the contact or the words made her jump, and her jump made Tony wonder how she’d ever relax enough to actually go through with her plan.
He straightened and angled his body to her. “We need to sleep on this.” She opened her mouth and sucked in a breath. “In separate beds,” he added with a smile. “I need to go home. You need to stay here. And we need to think some more before we act.”
She nodded. “I suppose that’s best.”
“If we do this thing, we’re going to have to spend a lot of time together to convince my family it’s real. I’ll piss them off if it looks like I’m just messing around with you.”
But truth be told, messing around with Trish hadn’t left his mind since he laid eyes on her in those fishnet stockings. And to think he was this close to a free pass.
He slipped a hand to her face, cradling her soft cheek, loving how she responded, dropping her chin and resting against him. “Good night,” he whispered, pulling her face gently to him as he leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
He stood, snatched his coat off a nearby chair and walked into the hall.
“Thank you, Tony.”
He stopped with his hand on the front door knob. “For what?”
“For not thinking I’m crazy.” She lifted a hand and brushed a clump of hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear, letting her fingers rest at the back of her neck. With her head tilted and her lower lip drawn between her teeth, she looked nervous, but her blue eyes sparkled with determination. There it was again, that irresistible blend that made Trish unique and Tony interested.
He had to remind himself it wasn’t smart for him to stay until they both had more time to think things through. With a smile and a twist of the knob, he stepped outside. “Lock this door behind me.”
“Okay.” She raised a thin brow and wrapped her arms around her waist. The motion deepened her cleavage.
Tony stood on the porch, toes touching the metal threshold separating wooden slats from slate title. “Whatever you do, don’t let me back in.”
She dropped her arms and walked those wicked legs in his direction, stopping just inside the foyer, toes touching the metal threshold too. “Don’t let you back in ever?”
“Just tonight.”
