Page 52 of Surprise Baby for Mr. Fischer
She picked small pieces of bread from her sandwich and let the food fall onto her plate. “I know you won’t. And I want to tell you.”
“Then what’s wrong?” I lay my arms on the table and forced myself not to say anything more.
She rubbed at her forehead. “Whenever I talk about it, it’s like I’m there all over again.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready to.”
Harper paused. The far-off look was back in her eyes. “The whole world watched as my life imploded right in front of me.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Harper
Saying the words eveneight years later hurt. My body trembled, and I cursed my weakness. I wanted to be able to face my past, face my fear, and give up this hold it had over me. I didn’t know how. Yet even if I got over it, I would never want to subject our child to the brutality of the press. It sadly dawned on me that to protect our child, a relationship with Lincoln would never work. He would always be in the spotlight I detested.
Lincoln tried to hold my hand, but my limp grip fell from his grasp. Instead, he brushed his fingertips across the back of my hand. His light stroking kept me from completely losing my cool.
“I was sixteen. I’d always been overweight. It was hard seeing my sisters all in small sizes and thinking that’s what society wants. Hope was the only other one who wasn’t quite as skinny as the rest of them, but she wasn’t fat.” I stared at the kitchen attached to this breakfast nook.
His hand stilled for a minute before resuming its caress. “You’re not—”
I held my other hand up, palm out. “Save it, Lincoln. I know what I look like. I’ve grown accustomed to my weight. I’ve learned to dress in a way that flatters me. I can say I’m cute, and honestly, I’m not sure what this is between us.” That same hand flapped, gesturing between us before I laid it back down on the table.
“What do you mean?” His eyes narrowed.
“You know what I mean. You’re a celebrity, Lincoln. The women I see you with online are super skinny and gorgeous. I’m not even in the same league as them.” Why was he torturing me? I hated having to say those words out loud. My stomach dipped and rolled at the thought of him comparing me to them.
“Women I’m not with for a reason. Most of those people I’m at events with were set up by my publicist. And she most certainly didn’t ask my preference when finding me a date,” he ground out.
“Oh.” It came out as a whisper.
“Damn it, Harper.” His hand ran through his hair, creating haphazard spikes in its wake. “You have to know at least the physical side of our relationship is real. I can’t fake that. As for the rest ... I don’t know what to tell you. I only know I have this pull, this attraction to you that I’m finding harder to ignore. As for my type,youare my type,” he growled.
“Really?”
“Yes.” His eyes studied me. My cowardice was screaming at me to tear my gaze from his, but I fought it. His finger reached out and pressed against my lips. “This is real.”
