Sadie followed him down the hallway, admiring his gorgeous butt in soft, faded jeans and the width of his shoulders covered by a thin, loose, long-sleeved shirt. His big, broad feet were bare on the harlequin-checked floor. Sadie’s eyes kept darting from his ass to the walls, equally fascinated by the art she kept passing. Was that a Picasso? A pencil sketch by Lucien Freud? A Rothko?
Carrick hung back to allow her to enter the library first and Sadie sucked in her breath at the floor-to-ceiling shelves and the massive desk holding a laptop and a printer. On the opposite side of the room, the shelves had been removed and a large fireplace dominated the space, in front of which stood two club chairs and a long, slightly worn leather sofa. The room was warm and cozy and all she wanted to do was to lie on the couch and fall asleep.
Carrick went over to the drinks cabinet in the corner and lifted a crystal decanter. “Do you want a drink?”
Sadie shook her head and perched on the end of one of the club chairs. She placed her hands between her knees. “No, thank you.”
“Coffee? Tea?” Carrick asked, pouring some whiskey into a glass.
“No, I’m fine. I don’t need anything but for you to come and sit down so I can talk to you.”
Carrick frowned at her, but he walked over to the sofa and sat down, propping his bare feet up on the coffee table. He took a sip of his whiskey, swallowed and handed her an easy smile. “Why so serious, Sadie? Are you going to tell me you are pregnant?”
He said it lightly, like there was no possibility of that happening. She was about to burst that bubble and burst it hard. “Yeah. That’s exactly why I’m here.”
Carrick’s hand around his glass tightened and his eyes sharpened, but that was all the reaction she received. “That’s not even vaguely funny, Sadie.”
She wasn’t laughing. “I doubt this is something you wanted to hear, but I am pregnant and since you’re the only person I’ve slept with since my divorce, you’re the father. I thought I owed it to you to tell you that I’m carrying your child.”
“What?”
Sadie didn’t give him time to catch up. “Look, I know this is a shock and that you need time to let this sink in. When it does, the only thing you need to decide is what kind of dad you would like to be. It’s up to you if you want to support your child and be part of this journey, part of your child’s life.”
There. It was out now. She just had to wait for his reaction. Would it be explosive, vitriolic? Would he throw something, scream at her, blame her? Would she finally see the guy Tamlyn had lived with?
Show me your true colors, Murphy. Let’s get it over with.
She waited a minute, then another. Carrick just stared at her, his expression begging her to take back her words. Unfortunately, a do-over wasn’t possible.
Thinking that they both needed some time to process this life-changing news, Sadie stood up. “Let me know what you decide. I’ll see myself out.”
Carrick felt the burn of whiskey as it slid down his throat, thinking that he couldn’t possibly have interpreted Sadie’s words correctly. It wasn’t possible. She couldn’t be pregnant. He’d used condoms that night, he was sure of it.
Using condoms was as much second nature to him as brushing his teeth. Or shaving. He rubbed his jaw and felt his two-day stubble. Okay, maybe shaving wasn’t a good analogy since that was something he occasionally neglected.
He never, ever neglected his teeth. Or failed to protect himself or his partner.
“How?” he asked, hearing the croak in his voice.
Sadie sank back down to the chair and lifted her shoulders. At least she wasn’t pretending to misunderstand him. “The condom could’ve slipped or fallen off or torn. It might’ve been faulty.”
Surely he would’ve noticed a broken condom? Then again, he’d been so caught up in the smell and taste and wonder of Sadie that a nuclear bomb could’ve dropped next door and he might not have noticed.
Honestly? The chances of him noticing a split or leaking condom hovered around zero.
Carrick racked his brain and tried to recall any housekeeping he’d done that night he’d loved her so thoroughly and drew a blank. Sadie’s soft skin, her smell, her moans... Those he remembered in Technicolor. Getting rid of condoms? Not so much.
He opened his mouth to speak and immediately snapped it closed again. What was there to say? Sorry? He could express regret, but would it change a damn thing? No, it wouldn’t.
And was he really sorry?
He was surprised, shocked. His world had been kicked off its axis, but was he sorry? He wasn’t sure that he was.
He’d always wanted a kid and when he said goodbye to his marriage, he’d said goodbye to that dream, too. He believed kids should be raised within a committed relationship and since he’d had no intention of jumping into that alligator-infested swamp again, he resigned himself to a child-free life.
But Sadie was pregnant, the kid was his and he had another shot at being a father, something he’d believed was beyond his grasp.
He wasn’t delighted, but he wasn’t about to chew his wrists off, either.