Page 72 of Her Billionaire Bargain (Kensington Square)

“She sure is, but they think it’ll be this week. She’s trying to hang on for natural childbirth with a midwife and all that.”

I couldn’t keep my horror off my face. “Not in a hospital? Without an actual doctor and lots of drugs?”

He nodded. “Exactly. She’s a damn warrior, man.”

I couldn’t process this series of events. “Why no drugs? Why no capable medical team?”

“Some women prefer a more soothing setting for their baby’s arrival into the world. Not sterile like a hospital,” Preston chimed in, ordering an unsweetened iced tea with both a lemon and a lime wedge.

The guy was a damn party animal.

“Oh, do they now? When did you become an expert on woman’s childbirth preferences?”

“Didn’t say I was. Just Ryan and I discussed it.”

“Childbirth? What, did you run out of other topics of discussion already? Can’t imagine ever settling on that one.”

“You can’t even imagine settling down with one woman, so of course you can’t imagine willfully choosing to discuss marriage and children.”

The barb stuck in my ribs, as intended.

Playboy Dex who never had a serious thought or ever considered anything beyond having fun or next weekend’s party. I couldn’t possibly understand meeting someone who made me want more.

But I wanted more with Shelby. Why? Because I wanted to prove myself worthy of her? Or did I truly see more behind her eyes and in her laughter? In how fully she lived in the moment when she danced?

I also couldn’t help how I fucking lit up inside when she touched me or when happiness made her skin glow. It was a damn chemical reaction I had no control over.

And there was Berry. How could I already love that kid and be halfway—or more—in love with her mother?

“I can imagine more than you’d ever give me credit for.”

Bishop ordered a Harp like me than cocked his head. “You trying to tell us something?”

“Yes. No.” I exhaled heavily. “I have questionable taste. I mean, not because she’s not awesome. She is. But she’s probably out of my league.”

“She who?” Preston asked, leaning forward to peer around Bishop.

“No one. Nobody.” I tipped back my beer, draining it far too quickly. I wanted more, but I ordered an ice water. Good enough. I wasn’t getting drunk tonight.

Bishop bumped my arm. “Tease.”

“Me?” I jerked a thumb down the bar toward my brother. “That one’s acting like it’s totally usual conversation with your girlfriend to discuss childbirth every day of the week.”

“Her best friend is giving birth, asshat. It’s not that shocking the thought would enter her head.” He sucked down water in big gulps. “We’ve been dating almost a year. Living together for most of that. It makes sense the serious subjects would come up for a committed couple.”

Bishop winced. “Ouch. Burn.”

“Especially for you two. You both were ready to settle down within five minutes of meeting.”

My snark didn’t carry the same weight it used to, considering I was experiencing something similar. Not that I wanted to settle down yet, even if Shelby was interested.

Just the possibility seemed more likely than in the old days.

Now the idea of coming home at night with someone there didn’t seem uncomfortable, like a shirt with a starchy collar. I didn’t know what was going on with me and how I could be thinking about that sort of thing in such a short time. I’d met Shelby last fall, but I’d only thought of her half a dozen or so times since then. I’d had no reasonable reason to contact her, so I hadn’t. But when I’d had that ill-fated work gathering and decided I needed to redo my home—and my life—she’d been the first person on my mind.

True, I didn’t know any other designers, and Preston and Bishop had been more than pleased with her work. It made sense for me to hire her to renovate my house.

What didn’t make sense? To fall for her so damn fast. Her and her daughter. Not only did I really like both of them, but I was also protective of them, and not just because Shelby’s ex was a royal asshole.

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