“A girl in trouble,” she repeated, his choice of phrasing making her smile. “Yes, you are quite the villain, aren’t you?”
“I’m serious,” he said, scowling at her.
“I know you are.”
Unable to hold back one more second, she reached for him with her free hand. He nestled his cheek into her palm. Dark, curling lashes swept down to shield his eyes, but she didn’t need to see them to know the caress helped.
“I gave up thinking about babies a long time ago. They weren’t in the stars for me. I think maybe because I knew deep down I didn’t want kids.” The confession came out of the blue, but once she started, Millie found herself hard-pressed to stem the flow. “I suppose some people would think that makes me a horrible person. An unnatural woman. But I never felt the…tug or tick or whatever women are supposed to feel. But maybe I just didn’t get that far.” She pressed her hand to her belly. “Not that I don’t like kids. I just never pictured myself having them. I always kind of thought I would make a good aunt. Like Auntie Mame.” She smiled. “I think I’d be really good at the spoiling part. Unfortunately, no siblings, so the aunt thing didn’t work out.”
He returned the smile, his eyes warming. “I bet you would be an awesome auntie.”
“Kate and Danny probably won’t have kids at this point in their lives, but Avery’s younger. She still has time.” The smile widened into a grin as she pictured all the gaudy, glitzy presents she’d heap on her friend’s imaginary children. After all, someone had to contradict the hippie-dippie granola influence in their lives. “And now, maybe you.”
His expression sobered. “Maybe me.” He raised their joined hands to his mouth and brushed feathery kisses across her knuckles. “I don’t want to lose you over this.”
“You won’t,” she whispered.
He raised his gaze to meet hers. “You mean that?”
“Yes.”
He nodded, then lowered their hands to his thigh once more. “We got Mari to agree to a noninvasive prenatal test. That should at least give us some indicator. If we’re not sure of the results, we can try a more invasive procedure, but they’re riskier, and I don’t know if I’d want to take the chance.”
Millie nodded as she digested the information. “No. Right. That makes sense.”
“Either way, paternity won’t be legally determined until they do the testing after the baby is born.”
“I see.”
“Some claim the noninvasive testing is accurate, some say it’s BS, but I think it’s worth trying. I have to know something one way or another.” His expression grew somber. “Either way, I’m in for another six months of limbo. And I thought waiting six weeks for a divorce was bad.”
She gave him a wan smile. “Six weeks was bad.”
He looked her straight in the eye. “I’ve got no right to ask you to go through this with me, but I want to.”
A myriad of questions, answers, and commentary scrolled through her head, but like the crawl at the bottom of a television screen, she ignored them in favor of the headline. “I’ll be here for you.”
His eyes brightened, but his smile was sardonic. “You sure? Up until last night, you were singing a different tune.”
She laughed. “You’d think you’d have learned by now not to listen to anything I say.” Releasing his hand, she swung her bag to the ground and scooted closer until they sat hip to hip. Then she took his hand again. But instead of threading her fingers through his, she raised his arm up over her head and draped his bicep over her shoulder. Settling into the crook of his neck, she patted his chest. “Words are spin, Ty. I’m a woman of action. Pay attention to what I do, not what I say.”
She felt his silent chuckle. “What you do?” he asked.
“I might talk a good game, but I haven’t been able to back it up. No matter what I say, I keep running right back to you.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “True.”
“And not for the cuisine,” she said, adding a wry little laugh. “That pizza you ordered should be registered as some kind of weapon of mass destruction.”
“You didn’t even taste it.”
“And still I ended up worshipping the porcelain god.”
He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “Don’t blame my pizza for your questionable choices in liquor consumption. I know undergrads who know better.”
The knots in her stomach tightened. “If you stick with me, this could be your only chance to have a kid of your own.”
He smirked. “You think I looked at you and thought, ‘Now, she looks like a baby-making opportunity’?” Angling his body toward hers, he ran his palm over her messy mop of hair, then traced the curve of her cheek with his fingertips. “No, Millie, I didn’t choose you because I thought you’d be good breeding stock.”
“Are you saying I wouldn’t be?” She tried to sound affronted, but it was hard with an avalanche of relief shushing through her veins.
He rolled his eyes. “Not at all.” He curled his finger under her chin, and their gazes locked. “When I look at you, I see everything I never knew I needed. You’re smart, funny, and resourceful.” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “We won’t even get into the sexy thing, because we’re sitting on a public bench, and I have a hard enough time keeping my hands off you without discussing the finer points.”
“We could discuss them later though.”
He squinted, eyeing her closely. “I’m still reeling a bit. Between you running hot and cold and Mari jerking my chain, I think I might have some whiplash. You’ll forgive me if I’m wary?”
Millie’s cheeks burned, but she managed as much of a nod as his grip would allow. “I get you.”
“You do,” he replied quietly. “Another reason
