Page 81 of Baby For The Billionaire Silver Fox

“My dad gave me a disappointed look and said, ‘That figures’ before he stomped back into his man cave. My mom warned me not to marry the loser who knocked me up, or I’d regret it like she had. She told me she wasn’t going to be a grandmother and not to ask her to babysit. Then she went back to complaining about her health.”

Dan took his hand off the dog. He looked furious. “You are fucking kidding me.” Buddy gave him the side-eye.

“That’s why I don’t visit them very often. Maybe I won’t at all anymore.”

“Good plan,” Dan said through gritted teeth. I knew he wanted to say more, but he gestured with his hand for me to continue.

“So after I’d told these people, I became more comfortable about telling others. I think it’s hard for me to talk about it because I’m so unsure if I will be as good a mom as this baby deserves. We’re not talking about playing with dolls here. We’re talking about a tiny human being. I’m not very confident about this.”

I swallowed. “And I worry that I won’t love her enough,” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. “I want to give her a childhood better than mine—one full of love. I hope I can.”

Dan put his hand over mine, which was burrowed in Buddy’s fur. It was big, warm, and comforting. “I think being a parent won’t always be easy, but you will love her. Just look at how you feel about Buddy. Nicole, you’re a very loving and kind person. How you care for your patients and your dog speaks volumes.”

“Do you really think so? Never mind. God, I am so needy right now. Of course, you’re going to agree with me sitting right here in front of you.”

“Do you want to text me that question, and then I’ll go in the other room and text my answer back to you?” he asked, half-serious. “I think you will be a wonderful mom. Yeah, there will be some self-correction along the way, but that’s how parenting is. You can’t hold up your own parents as an example of normal. It’s not hard to do a lot better than that.”

I nodded slowly.

“Do you already love her?” he asked.

I nodded again. “I do.”

I stood up anxiously, needing to move while I told him this next part. My hands clenched and unclenched, and I suddenly felt sweaty.

“I’m so sorry for everything, Dan. When I first came to town, I needed a friend. There you were, offering it up, not knowing it was the lifeline I desperately needed. You were so nice and easy-going, and you knew everyone and every place. You took me hiking and didn’t let me get eaten by bears or spiders. I have never met someone as wonderful as you. Honestly, I tried to keep you in the friend-zone, but I fell for you.”

His eyes grew soft as he watched me pace.

“And I wanted to tell you, once I was ready to, but I kept losing my nerve. I did try to tell you a couple times. But I should have tried harder. I’m sorry.” I gulped.

“I know you tried. I put that together yesterday.” He sounded reassuring, which surprised me.

I looked at his face quickly, wondering if I’d imagined it.

I continued. “It was agonizing—wanting to be around you all the time but knowing that was a bad idea, living for your kisses while pushing you away, making love, then telling you it shouldn’t have happened. God, I’m so sorry for all the mixed signals. Just so you know, it’s been torture.”

Dan had questions in his eyes. “So why did you want to push me away when we’re good together?”

“Because I am pregnant. I’m carrying another man’s child,” I said bluntly. “Guys get kinda weird about that,” I added, trying not to sound bitter. I started pacing again.

“I know it was selfish, but I was grabbing every moment I could have with you before the inevitable.”

“What’s the inevitable?”

“Rejection. Shit,” I said, angrily swiping at the tears that came to my eyes. “It’s like this crushing weight on my heart just thinking about the finality of not having you when I love you. I can’t stand it.”

Dan went still, and his mouth dropped open. He looked at me, searching my face.

My hand flew to my mouth. “Oh, God. I didn’t mean to tell you that. It’s just going to make you feel worse when you have to give me your sorry-it-was-nice-to-know-you-but… speech. I should just go.”

A sob escaped me as I stumbled towards the door.

Dan’s hand reached out and grabbed my arm as I went by him. “Stop,” he demanded.

“Like I have a choice. You’ve got my arm. Please let me go.”

“Did I hear you correctly? Did you say you love me?”

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