Page 28 of Hooked On Them

“Thanks, I think?” I gestured toward the living area. “Come in, sit. Can I get you something to drink? Water, wine, coffee, tea, imported fruit juice from a small Portuguese village?”

A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “Water would be great.”

I led her to the couch, fighting the urge to kiss her. Something was clearly wrong, and the last thing she needed was me misreading signals. “Make yourself comfortable.”

In the kitchen, I filled a glass with ice and water, then hesitated. She looked like she could use more than water. I glanced at the sandwich on my counter I’d been enjoying before she texted me. It was prosciutto, burrata, arugula, and fig jam on fresh sourdough from the bakery down the block. I grabbed a clean plate and transferred it over from the wrapper.

“I noticed you look a little pale.” I returned with the water and sandwich. “Thought you might need this. I promise I only took one bite from the other side.”

She took the water first, drinking deeply, then set it down and stared at the sandwich like it was simultaneously the most appealing and revolting thing she’d ever seen. She took a tentative bite, chewed carefully, and seemed to decide it was safe to continue.

“This is really good. Thank you.” She took another bite.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” I perched on the coffee table across from her, our knees almost touching. “Because if you need anything—money, a place to stay, a private jet to a non-extradition country—just say the word.”

She let out a startled laugh that transformed into something closer to a hiccup. “You’d help me flee the country?”

My attempt at humor faded as I noticed her hands trembling slightly. “Seriously, Nora. Whatever it is, I want to help.”

She set down the sandwich, took another sip of water, and met my eyes with a determination that sent a chill down my spine.

“I’m pregnant.”

The words hung in the air between us. My brain short-circuited, rebooted, and then promptly froze again.

“Oh, congratulations?” I managed, eloquently.

“No, Carter.” She shook her head, a frantic energy suddenly animating her features. “You don’t understand. I have an IUD. Or I had one, apparently, because according to my doctor, it’s no longer where it’s supposed to be. It either fell out or my body absorbed it like some kind of sci-fi movie, or it grew legs and walked away to start a new life somewhere else, who knows?” Her words tumbled out faster and faster. “The point is, it was supposed to be preventing exactly this scenario, and now there’s a gestational sac on an ultrasound screen, and it’s about six to seven weeks along, which means it happened around the end of September, which means?—”

The memories of that night on the yacht flooded back with crystal clarity. “But that was only like four and a half weeks ago…”

“Yes, but they count from when I started my period, which, if I had still had one, would have been about two weeks or so before that. I know it’s confusing as fuck.” She took a deep breath. “There’s a fifty-fifty chance you’re going to be a father. Surprise!” She made a weak jazz hands gesture, then immediately dropped her hands to her lap.

My mind was racing a million miles a minute, trying to process what she was saying. A baby. My baby. Possibly my baby? A tiny human that might be half me.

And then, to my complete surprise, a laugh bubbled up from deep in my chest. Not a nervous laugh, or a hysterical one, but a genuine sound of joy that I couldn’t contain or explain.

“A baby,” I repeated, a grin spreading across my face. “Our baby.”

Nora’s eyes widened in horror. “Why are you smiling? This isn’t good news! This is a disaster! A catastrophe! A fertility bomb dropped right in the middle of my life!” Her voice cracked on the last word, and to my absolute shock, her eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, shit, no, don’t cry.” I moved to sit beside her on the couch, hesitantly placing an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to?—”

“No, it’s fine.” She swiped angrily at her eyes. “It’s just hormones. I don’t cry. I’m not a crier. This is not me. I don’t break down over…over…” A sob escaped her, and she turned and pressed her face into my chest.

I held her, stroking her back in what I hoped was a comforting manner. “It’s okay to be overwhelmed. I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but I’m here for you no matter what you decide.”

I could barely make out her words through the fabric of my shirt, where she’d practically tunneled into my chest like a distressed gopher. “You don’t even know if it’s yours.”

“I know. But if it is... or even if it isn’t.” With infinite care, I cupped her chin in my hand, guiding her face up to meet mine. I needed her to see the sincerity in my expression, to understand that this wasn’t some knee-jerk reaction. The idea of being a father filled me with an unexpected lightness, like discovering a gift I hadn’t known I wanted until that exact moment. “Nora, I would be honored to be this baby’s father.”

She stared up at me, tears sparkling on her lashes like tiny diamonds, her mascara slightly smudged beneath her eyes in a way that somehow made her even more beautiful. “You’re unbelievable. Do you know that? Absolutely ridiculous.” The words were accusatory, but there was a hint of wonder in her voice, as if she couldn’t quite believe anyone could react this way.

I grinned, feeling oddly proud of her assessment of my mental state. “So I’ve been told. Usually right before someone agrees with one of my more brilliant ideas.”

“We had a threesome. We barely know each other. I’ve been ignoring your texts for weeks.” She ticked off each point on her fingers like she was presenting evidence in court, though the effect was somewhat undermined by the fact that she was still nestled against my chest.

“All true. Though I did send some pretty creative messages, and it was only a matter of time before you cracked.”

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