Page 180 of The Single Dads Club
“So, what’s the verdict, Bren? Are you feeling okay?”
I knew he wasn’t referring to the queasiness I’d mentioned, which came and went. He was talking about our real first date—he was asking how I felt aboutus. The truth was, I really didn’t know. He was handsome, intelligent, kind—and amazing in bed. But I didn’t really know him, and this baby would speed things up to an unnatural pace, and that terrified me.
“It was a nice dinner. Thank you for that.”
“Right. Well, I’m going to go out on a limb and take that as an invitation to call you again.”
He leaned down and my body froze. I knew I ought to back away—not get sucked in by his sweetened spicy smell, but his eyes were locked with mine and I found myself moving closer, letting my mouth close over his soft bottom lip.
His tongue didn’t sweep out to greet me. Instead the kiss was soft and sweet, but the feel of his skin on mine sent a wave of white-hot energy through me, along with a surge of memories of everything that mouth of his could do—everything he’d already done. Everything I wanted it to do again. And again.
But even as I started to melt into him, he pulled away.
“Good night,” he said, his voice all grit as he backed away and opened my car door for me, waiting as I climbed inside.
I watched him climb into his own car in a daze, my mind reeling.
Jesus, he was like a drug. One taste and I wanted to mainline him straight to the vein.
I had to get a grip. Clutching the leather steering wheel, I closed my eyes. The kiss had been a mistake. This whole date had been a mistake. Jesus, why did the best night of my life have to turn into my biggest regret?
But I would be okay. I was walking away knowing one thing I hadn’t been sure of before—this guy, whatever his romantic intentions toward me, would be a great father. That was more than I could have hoped for after a one-night stand. This baby—if there really was one—would be lucky to have him. That was what I needed to focus on. This wasn’t just about me anymore.
I drove on autopilot, playing the date in my mind over and over until at last I arrived home and put myself to bed. Tomorrow would be a new day and I made a mental vow it would be free from any lingering thoughts about Mason Bentley.
We wanted different things in life. Until I found out if I was pregnant, it only made sense to continue to talk. But I’d spend the time between now and the next time I heard from him shoring up my emotional and physical defenses.
Something told me I was going to need them.
Badly.
Chapter Nine
Mason
“How is it I always find myself standing in front of you, asking the same question?” Trent walked into my office unannounced, almost catching his lab coat as he snapped the door shut behind him.
I set down my sandwich on my desk and glanced at him. “And which question is that?”
“What the actual fuck, man?” Trent raised the clipboard in his hand then dropped it down in front of me.
“What?”
I glanced at the chart.
“Mrs. Ramirez. You filed her paperwork all wrong. In fact, everything you’ve touched this morning has been fucked in one way or another and the nurses are blaming your assistant and your assistant is blaming the nurses. Before all hell breaks loose with every employee of the female persuasion, tell me what’s going on?”
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Shit. Okay. I’ll look at the files and fix everything. I’m sorry. I’m just a little distracted today, that’s all.”
“No kidding. You’ve asked Jean seven times if the hematologist reports are back. Do you think someone has leukemia or something?”
“No, not that.” I blew out a sigh, then pushed my sandwich away from me before motioning to the chair in front of my desk.
“You remember the girl I was looking for? Bren? The one who—”
“Snuck out of your apartment like you’d been holding her hostage? Yeah, I remember. You about to tell me you tracked her down and don’t know what to say?”
“Oh, I talked to her. Yesterday when she came in to see if she was pregnant.”
