Page 58 of The Proposal
“To be perfectly honest with you, I want a kid too,” he says, flexing his fingers as if they’re buzzing from the contact like mine. “But I’ve never met someone I’d trust enough to have a child with … until now.”
“You’re just saying that to get what you want.”
“If you know me as well as you say you do, then you know the one thing I won’t do is lie.”
As much as I don’t want to admit it, he’s right. Renn Brewer isn’t a liar. That’s what gets him in trouble most of the time—his failure to pass the blame. Sure, he might skirt it and try to minimize the damage. But he never lies.
“Somehow, you just complicated the hell out of an already overcomplicated situation,” I say.
“Mr. Brewer,” Kimbra says. “May I please see you for a moment?”
He turns to me. I motion for him to go, thankful for the interruption.
“In exchange for you not ending it, I’ll give you a baby.”
I hold my forehead.What the hell is happening? I chuckle quietly, in disbelief with myself.Could I still be drunk?
Although I want a baby with a man I love, I’m not sure I’ll ever find him. People are weird. They have secrets. Having a child with someone means you’re bonded with them in one way or another for the rest of your life—or not. But which is worse? Falling out of love with someone or having your child’s father not being in their life?
Renn’s voice drifts through the room and a warmth flows over me.
He has his flaws, sure, but he is a good person. I trust him—mostly. If he says he’ll play by my rules and sign a contract, I believe him. And he seems to have a strong family.Besides his father. Fuck that guy.
Iwasconsidering a sperm bank. Would having a child with Renn be that much worse? At least I know him, and he could be a part of our child’s life, maybe. Our child could have more than just me and Brock …Am I really considering this?
Ifhe could stay out of the spotlight and not make a mockery of me—which, as Renn suggests, would be counterintuitive to this whole process—maybe this could work. It’s only a ninety-day investment, after all.Right?
Why does this kind of make sense?
“At least you look less shocked now,” he says, sitting again.
Less shocked? How am I looking less shocked?This is the most bizarre day I’ve ever had.
I shift in my seat. “IfI agreed, and I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this—what is wrong with me?—I’m on birth control. I don’t know if I can get pregnant in ninety days.”
“If not, I’ll give you my DNA in a little cup or however they do it.”
“You realize you’re talking about a child like a business transaction, right?”
“Is it that much worse that getting pregnant accidentally with some guy you don’t even know?You know me.Hell, we’re married.” He bites back a laugh. “Look, you want a child, and I’m more than willing to give you one. I’ll take care of it. I’ll be a part of its life. I’m kind of excited about it. I get a kid, and I don’t have to deal with a woman I don’t like. And it’ll even be conceived during our marriage, Blakely. I don’t see why this is a terrible plan.”
Fucking hell. “What if you’re in another relationship? Your new woman won’t like you giving me your DNA.”
“I’ll give it to you before we get divorced, and she’ll have to deal with it.”
“Can you even do that?”
He shrugs. “We’ll figure it out.” He leans against his knees again. “Look, I’m serious about this. It’d be pretty great to be the father of your child. But if you don’t want to do this, I respect that, and we’ll file for annulment as soon as we land. I’ll protect you as much as I can from the media. You have my word.”
Kimbra returns, handing me a glass of red wine. She says something about moving to the dining room, but it sounds like gibberish.
Today has been too much in every sense of the word. But as I sip my drink and take in Renn—who is calmer than I would expect under the circumstances—the chaos in my head begins to settle.
The baby aside, because I’m not sure I can actually do that, if he can promise he’ll play the part of the doting husband for ninety days, would it bethatterrible to pretend to be a loving wife? It’s just three months. Surely, I can use that time to benefit me somehow.
I set the wine down and find my purse. The receipt from the strip show is at the bottom; it’s the only piece of paper I can find. I pull out a lip liner and face a curious Renn.
“Ninety days,” I say sternly. “And if I’m to play the role of wife, you’re to play the role of husband. That means no wandering eye, no pictures with other women, no dates.”
