Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
He grins. “Nah, he just likes guys.”
“So it’s a sexual preference thing?”
Dylan winks. “Exactly.”
My pulse spikes and panic oozes into my bloodstream, cold and shocking.
Oh my God, does Dylan…?
Could he… Could I have read him all wrong?
Unable to stop myself, I blurt out, “And what about you?”
“What about me?”
I clear my throat again, aiming for a casual tone. “Do you like guys?”
“Um, no, not in that way.” He laughs softly, a low rumble that’s warm and lovely.
“Oh. Good. Thank God.” My breath rushes out as I press my hand to my chest. I’m so relieved that it takes me a second to realize how that must have sounded.
By the time I do, Dylan’s studying me with a cocked head and arched brows.
“I mean, I d-don’t have anything against gay people,” I stammer, waving an awkward hand in the air between us. “I like gay people. Love them! I have lots of gay friends back in the city, and Neil, my tasting room host, is gay. I just meant…” I shake my head with a laugh. “I meant I’m, um…” I pat my throat, fighting my nerves as my brain screams to spit it out already and my pride demands that I abort this mission, run home, hide under my bed, and pretend this interaction never happened.
Dylan nods slowly. “You’re what, Blondie?” His voice is deeper, huskier than it was a moment before.
My gaze lifts sharply, connecting with Dylan’s. There’s an almost audible sizzle, and my heart gallops faster. It’s been a while for me, but that certainly looks like interest of a more-than-friendly variety flickering across his features.
Time to go for it. All in. No backing down now.
I lift my chin, maintaining eye contact as I utter the six terrifying words that have been floating around my head all night. “I have a favor to ask.”
“What kind of favor?”
“A big favor,” I continue breathlessly, enough adrenaline coursing through my veins to make me feel like I’m chugging uphill on a roller-coaster, headed for one hell of a drop. “But before you say no, I want to promise you that no one ever has to know about this. And when I make a promise, I keep it. Forever. I will take this secret to the grave if that’s what you want. And I’ll withdraw my bid on the Stroker property tomorrow so it will be yours, free and clear.”
His brow furrows. “You’re a confusing woman, Blondie.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, nibbling on my lip.
He shakes his head. “It’s fine. I just thought I had an idea where you were going with that, and then you hit one into left field. So what is it you want me to do for you in exchange for withdrawing your bid?”
“I, uh…” I attempt a deeper breath, but my ribs are in stress-induced lockdown. No more air is getting in, so I had better use what I have left to get the words out. “I want a baby.”
Dylan’s brows shoot up so high and fast it would be funny if I weren’t so desperate for him to agree to my plan.
“I know I could use a sperm donor,” I barrel on, figuring if I’m in for a penny I might as well gamble it all. “But I don’t want a stranger’s baby. I want someone I know is a nice guy, and everything I’ve heard about you has been great. People around here love you and respect you. And I know you don’t like me, but we wouldn’t have to be friends. It could just be something we do for a few months to see if it works, and if it doesn’t, then that’s fine.” I wave what I hope is a breezy hand. “No harm, no foul, and you still have what you want. Even if I don’t get pregnant.”
He makes a strangled sound that it takes me a second to realize is laughter.
“Don’t laugh, please.” Mortification rises inside me. “I know this may seem like it’s coming out of nowhere, but I heard these two women talking today, about how the men in your family have a reputation for—”
“I know our reputation,” he cuts in, sobering fast. “That’s why I wrap it up. Every time. I don’t want any part of that reputation. I don’t want to leave a trail of fatherless kids behind me, and I’m not even close to being ready to be a dad.”
“I totally understand.” I lift my palms, showing him I have nothing to hide. “And I’m not asking you to a be a dad. I would raise the baby on my own. And maybe someday I will marry, and the baby will have a father, but I’m tired of waiting for Mr. Right to make my dreams come true. I’m running out of time. I have to make my own dreams come true, and I want to be a mother more than I’ve ever wanted anything. And I would be a good one. I would love that child enough to make up for not having a father in the picture, I swear I would.”