CHAPTER TWELVE
WARD
A BABY. PENELOPE WANTS to have a baby?
A fucking baby.
How did I not realize? She’s a woman in her early forties, single, and childless. Of course she does. Not that every woman in her position would, I just hadn’t taken considered what her life goals were.
Probably because there was never meant to be anything else between us except a night of passion.
Which turned into two.
And now I’m here with the grand plan of asking her to dinner. To date me.
While she’s off heading out to get artificially inseminated.
Fucking hell.
There are a million miles between our plans.
If you are lucky enough to love two women in this life, then don’t let her get away.
This changes everything.
Damn it.
I watch the cab whizz past Penelope, and snow flies up into the air, covering her. The crestfallen look on her face as she lifts the phone to her ear almost breaks me.
This is important to her.
I’ve known couples who have suffered through infertility and the pain is real.
I don’t know her story, but there will be one that has led her to this point, and I want to hear it.
She brushes at her cheek, and without another thought, I nod to Luke, who is waiting for me right out front with the Bentley. Then stride toward Penelope.
“I’ll take you,” I say firmly, taking her arm.
I don’t wait for permission. I help her into the backseat and join her, adjusting the heat while she shares the address.
Wet eyes meet mine when she lifts her face to say thank you.
Fuck.
Fuck!
It’s like the rug has been completely pulled out from under me. A million reasons to drop her off and walk briskly away hit me. Then it takes me another minute to connect a few more dots.
I turn to her and demand, “Who is the donor?”
“What?” she blinks.
“Who have you chosen to be the father?” I growl, imagining her swollen with a child, being filled with another man’s sperm.
My fists clench and I almost tell Luke to drive us home so I can fuck a child into her myself.
PENELOPE
WHEN WE STOP OUTSIDE the building and Ward climbs out with me, I place my hand on his arm.
“Thank you.” I walk toward the building and do a double take when he follows. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know. Just keep walking.” He growls.
I don’t have time for this.
I need to know what he thinks he is doing. Plus, demanding to know who my sperm donor is—or will be—is completely unacceptable.
“Ward. Go home,” I say as I push open the doors and rush across the lobby.
“Keep walking,” he repeats.
After shooting him an irritated look, I glance at my phone. I have two-and-a-half minutes to get upstairs. Pressing the elevator button, I wrap my coat around me. I’m not cold. I’m...confused.
Who have you chosen to be the father?
“It’s just a first meeting,” I told him. “There’s no man.”
He barked out a maddening laugh. “You do know how babies are made, don’t you? There will be a man.”
That’s when the car stopped and that stupid conversation ended.
Of course, I know how babies are made.
Idiot.
It’s like he is trying to upset me further. I hate that he saw me in tears. I hate that he is here.
This is something I need to do alone.
But the stupid alpha man will not leave no matter what I say, so I just have to keep moving.
The fact he’s telling me to do that just makes me not want to.
But I don’t have time for games.
The elevator is empty, so we both step in. I ignore him, push the floor button, and stare at the doors once they close. Then say, “You can’t come with me.”
“Apparently I am.”
I glance quickly and find Ward facing the front, his wide shoulders firm and unmoving.
Ugh.
This isn’t his boardroom. He can’t push me around. He doesn’t get to make the rules here.
“This is a medical appointment. You can’t just force your way in.” I huff, then turn to him and put my hands on my hips. “Ward. Why are you here?”
He ignores me.
“Ward!”
More ignoring.
Oh, my god. He cannot be here. This is not how I saw this going. My nerves are a wreck. I’m still half on a high after the TV segment, and now Ward—my ex-lover—is trailing along to my first fertility appointment.
This is not normal.
Not after I’ve spent weeks telling myself he doesn’t want me, and I shouldn’t/can’t/don’t want him.
I was just starting to move forward.
Ish.
How dare he?
I shove his arm. “Ward, talk to me.”
His eyes drop angrily down to me, then next minute he leans forward, pushes the emergency button and the elevator lurches to a stop.
Has he lost his mind?
“I think I fucking love you!” He barks in my face.
I blink.
My mouth falls open as he closes the small space between us and grips my face with such dominance I can’t breathe.
“If you want a baby, I will give you one.”
Oh, my god.
What?
I tremble as the low timbre of his voice rolls through me while trying to make sense of what he just said.
My heart is thumping, my panties are wet, and I’m fairly sure this is not the right way to start a conversation with a fertility doctor.
I’m also certain Ward has lost his mind.
“You don’t mean that,” I whimper, tears welling.
“Yes, I fucking do. I’m not standing by while some other man, test tube or otherwise, impregnates the woman I love.” Ward’s thumb rubs over my cheekbone, and I start to melt into him while his deep voice rumbles through me. “Your body belongs to me. Your heart belongs to me.”
“Ward.”
I’m scared to believe him.
How has he suddenly shifted from seeing me as someone he just fucks to being in love with me?
He doesn’t even know me. He doesn’t know my hopes and dreams, or what I want.
But I do.
And I know how vastly different they are from where he is on his life path.
“You’ve had your family, Ward.” I shake my head. “When you’ve thought about this, you’ll change your mind.”
His hand tightens on my face.
I want to believe him, but I can’t.
I cannot go through the rejection and pain again. When he’s had some time to come to his senses and talk to his kids, this won’t be what he wants.
I have to be the strong one here.
For me.
“Please. Let me go. I have to go or I’ll miss my appointment.”
Waiting three or six months for another appointment is an eternity when it comes to fertility. It could mean the difference between having a child or not.
Despite my feelings for this man, I have given him multiple opportunities, and each time he has backed away and not shown me he is committed to being the man I want.
The man I need.
Ward’s hand drops from my face, and he pushes the button so the elevator begins moving again.
Despite my insistence, my heart splinters at how easy it was for him to give up. Then he surprises me by sliding his hand through my hair and dropping his mouth to mine.
His kiss is long and demanding, taking my breath away.
Goddamn him.
“Have your meeting, sweetheart. Then we talk.”
Sweetheart.
The doors ping open, and I walk out robotically and into the doctor’s office, glancing over my shoulder as Ward lowers his huge body into a chair.
His eyes never leave mine as the door closes between us.