He laughs as he leans back. “Pregnancy scare. I’ve had a few rubbers break over the years, but this one was a total setup. The weeks waiting to see if she was pregnant were not good ones. I would have liked to think I was selective before then; I was wrong. Ever since, it’s only my condom every time. I also make sure she has more to lose than gain by getting pregnant.”
“So you think I have more to lose than gain by getting pregnant?”
“Hell, sugar, I don’t care if you have every intention of me knocking you up, if that’s what you want then I’m down. I think we’d make adorable baby girls.”
We both freeze as he says it, then he smiles as if the idea truly appeals to him. My stomach flips a dozen times before it stops. “I want boys, with dimples like yours. Girls are a pain in the ass.”
“Since they’ll be yours, I wouldn’t expect anything less than them taking after their mama. I figure by the time they get here I’ll be used to putting up with you and able to take them on. They can have my dimples as long as they have your smile and pretty brown hair.”
Asshole. “You are insane. Have you been checked out by a qualified mental professional?”
“What? Because I was honest? So this issue you have with honesty is giving as well as receiving...interesting. It looks like I’ll need the next few weeks to figure out your pretty little ass before Ethan gets here.” He shrugs. “Something to take my mind off not getting any when what I want is right in front of me.”
My tart reply disappears. “You aren’t going to be with anyone else to, you know, ease your hunger pains?”
His half smile flashes a dimple. “I’m well-aware you’d use it as a reason to cut and run no matter how much you want me. I’ll deal. It’s been a while since I went so long not getting it when I want it, but it will also give me time to make a list of all the things I want to do to you when I finally get my hands on you.”
“You’re going to have a long wish list and an even longer dry spell. How many times do I have to say you and I aren’t going to happen?” No matter how much I might want it. The promise in his eyes dries my throat.
Mike returns and sets our plates down, asking if we need anything else before he leaves us alone with a smile at my blush. I’m relieved at Chris’s promise he won’t be with someone else until after me. Even though I don’t know him as well as I should, I believe him. Everything I’ve read about him praised him for being honest and forthright. There was also a ton of admiration for his monk-like status during the season despite his manwhore ways during his downtime.
“Maybe when you say it with more feeling, I’ll actually believe you.” A dark eyebrow goes up, daring me to make him believe.
Jerk. “Do you never meet women you want to be with during the season, then need to wait until the season is over?”
“I’ll meet women during the season except I’m usually so focused, they don’t register on my radar. If they do manage to catch my attention I usually forget about them pretty quickly.” Chris cuts into his chicken. His sigh of pleasure glides down my spine. “This is amazing.”
“Told you, it’s the wine. You should try it with this amazing Pinot Noir they have here.”
“I don’t drink, except champagne for celebrations because it would be rude not to.” He shrugs as he sips his water.
“You don’t drink? What do you do in the clubs?”
He shrugs again. “Drink club soda, chill with the guys, talk to the women, get to know them while I decide what I want. I also don’t go out to the clubs as often as people think I do. Considering I only go out during the off-season once or twice a month for three months, I’m not nearly as wild as the press wants to push. I haven’t been to the clubs on a weekly basis for the last two, almost three years now.
“When I was in New York they would reuse pictures, implying I was at the club when I wasn’t. I threatened to sue, but it didn’t stop them. Management had to step
in to get them to stop. Sure, when I was younger it was maybe once a week, sometimes even twice, but it was never as often as the press made it seem.
“I’m not going to sit here and say I didn’t earn my reputation for hooking up with strippers and going out to have fun. I’ve done it all and I did it with pleasure. However, I was never a club rat, hooking up with random women without even knowing their names like the gossip columns claimed.”
Doing the math, it’s not nearly as often as even the younger lawyers and paralegals go out. “I can’t imagine being under the kind of scrutiny where people are putting things about your private life out there to make a buck off you.”
“It isn’t easy, but you get used to it after a while. You’re more selective about the places you go as well as the people you let into your life.” He nods as he focuses on his food. For a while we’re both quiet as we eat. It’s a comfortable quiet though, surprising me a little, as though we’ve done this before.
“So, what about you? Any vices I should know about, wine at night, gambling addiction?”
I shrug. “Not really, I don’t do wine except when I hang out with Holly. It’s mainly just coffee, reading, and it used to be shopping but not really for the last few years.” Ever since I was sized out of the best designers, shopping became a chore instead of fun. Wow, saying it out loud, it’s glaring how boring I am.
“Damn, Mary wasn’t exaggerating, you are in need of a shake-up, someone to help you remember what having fun is like.”
Even though I know Mary’s thoughts on my boring life, she urged me to make my New Year’s resolution to get a life, it still stings. “Just because I don’t spend my evening in clubs and fuck random people doesn’t mean I don’t have a fulfilling life. I’m content. I’m happy with my life.”
“I would make that five, except you actually believe what you said. Happy? No, Amelia, you are bored out of your mind. Deep down you’re dying to run screaming just to hear your voice, to make sure you didn’t lose it somewhere along the way. Tell me, Amelia, has any man ever made you scream as you came?” I freeze, eyes wide at the question. He shakes his head. “Well that answers my question. I’ll make you scream as you come. I’ll make your whole body shake. I’ll keep you screaming until there’s no air in your lungs. Then I’ll do it all over again.”
My whole body is tense, tight, aching for the promise in his words, in his eyes. Then my phone goes off, tearing me out of the haze of desire. Relief fills me, it’s a text from Mary about a client demanding to see me, upset because Ethan was out of town. “I have to get back to work. There’s a client waiting.”
He holds out his hand for my phone, and I roll my eyes as I hand it to him. The idea of arguing doesn’t even cross my mind. Reading the text, he nods. “Work it is. Are you done?” I nod, reaching for my bag to pull out my wallet. “Don’t even think about it.”