Page List


Font:  

“I’m pregnant,” she says, her eyes pulling reluctantly from her hands clasped in her lap to look up at me.

Were those precious freckles on her nose when we met? I know I’d remember the little beauty marks because they make her look younger, more her age than the number she should be to make the many times I’ve thought about her in the last several months more palatable.

“Okay,” I say.

She pleads with me, her eyes begging me for something she can’t seem to actually vocalize.

“We never had sex,” I remind her, and I want to take it back immediately when her eyes brim with tears.

“I know,” she says, her fingers dashing away the tears as they start their descent on her cheeks. “But no one else does.”

“I would never take advantage of a gir—woman when she was vulnerable. They know that much about me.”

My eyes narrow. I have no idea where this is going. Is she planning to blackmail me, to threaten me that she’ll tell everyone I hurt her when I was supposed to be protecting her?

“You made me a promise.” I swallow, waiting to reply so I can see what direction she’s planning on taking this. “You told me if I ever needed anything, that you’d be there for me. No ask was too big.”

“I did promise you that.”

“I need you to pretend to be the baby’s father.”

The world literally stops spinning, the lack of rotation making me sway on my feet, the same way you would after spending several hours at the skating rink and stepping off the slick floor back onto the carpeted area.

“Wh-What?”

“And I need you to marry me.”

My head snaps back. Surely she didn’t just say what I thought I heard. I clamp a finger on either side of my nose, blowing until my ears pop. “What was that?”

She looks up at me with a frown.

“I can’t do that, April.”

“You promised that you’d help me. Swore that no matter what it was that you’d be there for me. I’m not surprised. There hasn’t been a man I’ve met that hasn’t lied to me. I don’t know why I expected you to be any different.”

Those words slam into me, making my throat threaten to close. I’ve always been a man of my word. I’ve never said something I didn’t mean because I knew I would keep my promises. It’s why I don’t make very many, especially ones I have no intention of keeping.

“And I meant like if you ever needed to be pulled out of a bad situation, if you needed some cash, if you needed me to rough some guy up because he was an asshole to you.” If you needed a man in your bed because you were lonely. Of course, I don’t say that last part out loud. “Pretending to be the father of your child? Marrying you? That’s… that’s—”

“Too much,” she finishes for me. “I should go.”

Greater fear than when she just told me what she needs strikes me in the chest when she stands to leave.

“Wait. Let’s discuss this.”

She shakes her head, her hands trembling violently as she tries to walk around me. Maybe it’s an asshole thing to do, but I block her path. I’d never actually hold her here against her will, but I’m not above delaying her exit for a minute so I can get more information out of her.

“Just don’t,” she mutters, unable to meet my eyes. “I have your answer.”

“Please, just talk to me.”

She sighs a frustrated sound as she steps back, putting some distance between us.

“I can’t have a baby out of wedlock.”

I grind my teeth, knowing these are words she’s heard over and over, probably both at the cult we pulled her from and in South Carolina with her grandparents.

“It’s a sin,” she continues.

I nearly open my mouth to remind her that premarital sex is also considered a sin, but I know she already knows that. That’s the crazy thing about religion, and those that want to split hairs, picking and choosing which sins are okay. I’m not saying she thinks anything is okay, but it’s clear she’s trying to use me as her way to some contrived salvation she’s had drilled in her head for so many years.

“I can’t be the father of your child,” I say.

“I know we didn’t have sex, Apollo. I’m not crazy, but I was hoping you’d tell people that we—”

“I had a vasectomy when I was nineteen,” I confess, the words a painful reminder of my teen years.

Her eyes finally meet mine, the green orbs now circled with redness and pain. “And everyone knows?”

I clamp a hand on the back of my neck, pulling to try to relieve the tension that seems to be taking over my body. “I’m sure it’s in my medical records, but it’s not something I’ve broadcast to everyone.”


Tags: Marie James Romance