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“No, what’s not fair is that you work your fingers to the bone in this place and you have dreams you can’t see your way to because of all the bills.”

She clenched her jaw. “As soon as I sell Mama’s house—”

“What, you’ll barely be out of the hole? I am rich. I have more money than I know what to do with. I can make a good life for my kids. Both of them, including the one I’d have with you. And you’d be free, Ally. You could go to school like you want. I know you probably wouldn’t want to quit here, and that’s fine. But school would be taken care of, and then your dreams could be yours. Anything you want.”

She turned her head away and stared hard out the window at some place I couldn’t see. But she damn well wasn’t seeing the tidy, well-kept Main Street of our small town, I was certain. Her gaze was farther off, on a future I couldn’t imagine.

For all I knew, she’d leave Crescent Cove. With the money she’d receive, she could go somewhere else and start over for real. I knew she loved the diner, but more than anything, she spoke of fresh starts. Hard to have one in a town synonymous with so many bad memories for her. So much loss.

Sure, Laurie was here. I was here, plus Sage and her other friends at the diner. But there was a huge world out there, just waiting for Ally to make her mark. This way, she could. Without being tied down by anyone or anything.

As much as I might hate the idea of going even one day without seeing her smile or roll her eyes at me or hearing her laughter, it wasn’t about me now. She deserved a chance to live the way she wanted to.

So did I.

“You’re paying me for my eggs,” she said quietly. “Like I’m a freaking chicken. Except my eggs are like fucking gold lined in platinum, if they’re worth a college education.”

A laugh tickled the back of my throat, but it was too constricted for me to let it free. “Anywhere you want,” I gritted out instead. “A free ride all the way. Ivy League if that’s what floats your boat.”

Her chest quickly rose and fell, drawing my attention to her full breasts heaving under the starched cotton of her uniform. I tried not to notice. I respected the fuck out of her, but I also wanted to fuck her senseless.

Something I don’t think I’d fully realized until that exact moment. Even knowing what I was asking of her, what it would entail…I’d been focused on the result, not the process.

Now that process was playing out in my head in lurid Technicolor, and my stiff dick was lurching against the zipper of my jeans. And she was still breathing hard and worrying the silver rings she wore on each finger, her mind whirling faster than she could give voice to her thoughts. Or else she didn’t want to share.

I wanted to fuck her until every one of those thoughts tumbled out of her pretty mouth. To strip her bare until she could hide nothing from me. Her innermost secrets, her hot tits, her sweet pussy.

All of her, mine for the taking.

But I didn’t say any of that. Not yet. There was one point I needed to clarify, however.

“You keep talking about your eggs. You think that’s what I mean?”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, because this is all crazy talk. You never gave me one inkling you were thinking like this before and now you’re all in on baby central.”

“Okay, yes, I know my technique could use some work. But I figured you’d say no, so if we can get to that part, then we can get to the part where I considerately give you time to think about it while I do my level best to convince you. Without acting as if I’m convincing you, of course.”

“I can’t decide if you’re the dumbest dude on the planet for admitting that or the smartest.”

“I’m an excellent closer. You know that yourself.” I shrugged, hoping the gesture didn’t look as jerky as it felt. Truth be told, acting overly confident about this situation was the only way I’d been able to gear myself up to ask her in the first place.

I was okay with her thinking I was nuts. I was even okay with her saying no. What I wasn’t okay with?

Her pulling away from me because I’d officially moved out of the stress-free friend zone into the realm of one more man who wanted something from her. I did, but I wanted to give as much back.

As much as she would let me.

“Closing is one thing. Your openers, however, suck.” Ally leaned across the table and gripped my wrist, twisting my arm toward her so she could see the time as she’d done a million and one times before.

Normally, I barely paid attention. But apparently asking her to have my baby had subtly changed the ions and molecules in the air between us, because the brush of her fingers on the back of my hand made my balls clench. My spine locked as I fought not to draw back my hand.

But she noticed that I tensed. Of course she did. She was as perceptive as the damn cat I’d nicknamed her for years ago. “So, what, you want to knock me up but I can’t touch you now? You’re all about that petri dish action, aren’t you? You don’t want to come right out and admit it, but that’s what your goal is.” She let out a whooshing breath as if I’d just handed her the winning lotto numbers. “You just want to inseminate me. Okay. Better. I’m not saying yes, of course. Still, even considering that you actually thought that we…that we could…is ridiculous.”

Leaning forward, I snagged her fingers where they lay on the tabletop, holding firm when she tried to snatch them back. “That we could what?”

Her gaze darted everywhere but never landed on me. “You know quite well. Can you let go of me now, please? I need to get back to work.”

I only tightened my hold as I leaned across the table. She didn’t shrink back. Far from it. Her maple syrup eyes—all those rich hues of gold and brown—flashed and locked onto mine. “That we could what, Ally?” I asked again, voice low.


Tags: Taryn Quinn Crescent Cove Romance