The Proposition Page 8

  “It’s better this way. I can stare into Nate’s eyes sitting across from him.”

  “Most of all, it will keep her from molesting me under the table,” Nate replied, with a wink.

  Emma snickered and slid in beside him. Casey eased down across from them. After the waitress left with their drink orders, a sharp pain seized Emma’s abdomen, and she gripped her menu tighter.

  Casey immediately picked up on her distress. “What’s the matter?”

  She cut her eyes over at Nate and then back to Casey and shook her head. The last thing she wanted was to discuss womanly issues in front of him—intern or not. And even though he was more than just Casey’s fiancée—he was a good and trusted friend—it still bothered her. “Oh nothing.”

  “Shit, you aren’t cramping, are you?”

  Emma felt her cheeks warming as she tried to hide behind her menu. “I said it’s nothing.”

  Casey rolled her eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Em. Nate knows all about vaginas and ovaries, so quit acting embarrassed in front of him.”

  “I’m not acting embarrassed…I am embarrassed!” Emma replied.

  Ignoring Emma, Casey looked pointedly at Nate. “You know how Em’s been hitting it with Aidan to get pregnant?” He nodded. “Well, she’s two days late for her period now.”

  Emma closed her eyes, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole. Nate cleared his throat, trying to ease the tension. “If you are cramping, it could be a good thing. Sometimes when the egg implants into the uterine wall, you’ll experience moderate to severe pain that is similar to menstrual cramps.”

  Casey gave Nate a beaming grin. “Baby, you’re so sexy when you spout that medical jargon.”

  Emma snorted as Nate leaned over the table to give Casey a lingering kiss. “You guys are seriously sickening.” Once they had stopped making out, she smiled at Nate. “But thanks for the information. I’m hoping that’s what it is.”

  “I’m hoping for you, too. You’ll make a wonderful mother, Emmie Lou. God knows, you deserve some happiness,” Nate replied, squeezing her hand.

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.” She was interrupted by her phone buzzing in her purse. She glanced at the text and smiled.

  I don’t know if you’re still speaking to me or not, but I’m thinking of you today. No one, besides my own mother, meant as much to me as yours did. She always loved and accepted me for who I was. Not to mention she made the best damn chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever had! I love and miss you, Emmie Lou!

  It was from Connor. He had even used her nickname. When she started to text him back, Casey cleared her throat. Emma snapped her gaze up. “Sorry, I didn’t think—”

  Casey motioned over Emma’s shoulder. When she turned around, Connor stood with a bouquet of lilies—her mother’s favorite flower. Tears filled Emma’s eyes as she popped out of her seat and threw her arms around his neck. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here!”

  “I’m just glad you’re hugging me, rather than slugging me.”

  As she pulled away, Emma giggled. “I guess I left things pretty bad between us, huh?”

  “Dude, I thought I was a goner between you and that guy—oh what was his name again? The one who thought I was your boyfriend and was going to kick my ass.”

  Casey snickered. “His name is Aidan, but I think we can refer to him as Em’s prospective Baby Daddy.”

  Connor’s eyes widened, and he staggered back. “You got that guy to be your sperm donor?”

  Emma shot Casey a murderous look before jerking her out of the booth. “No, not exactly.” She motioned for Connor to have a seat. “I think I need to fill you in on some things.”

  Connor waved the waitress over before sitting down. “I’m going to need a beer…actually, go ahead and bring me the pitcher!”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Aidan hustled off the elevator from his last meeting of the afternoon. With his new promotion, his days were slammed from the moment he walked through the door until he clocked out. Thankfully, it was only half an hour until he could leave.

  He stopped at his secretary’s desk. “Any messages, Marilyn?”

  She shook her head. “But there’s a Ms. Harrison waiting for you in your office.”

  Aidan’s cock twitched at the mention of Emma. The last time she’d been in his office they’d had a mind blowing quickie. He sure as hell hoped that was what she was back for. “Thank you.”

  He licked his lips in anticipation and pushed open his office door. Any hopes he had of getting laid were dashed the moment he saw Emma sprawled out on his couch, sobbing hysterically. His throat closed in horror, and he struggled to breathe. He’d been accustomed to scenes like these when he was growing up. With four sisters, he’d seen and heard just about everything.

  But usually whenever an estrogen shit-storm rose on the horizon, he and his father got the hell out of dodge by escaping to the ballpark or pizza place. No matter how successful in business he was, there was one thing he couldn’t handle: emotional females.

  Emma glanced up to see him standing in the doorway. Their eyes met, and she broke down again. “Oh shit,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair. He hesitated before slowly walking over to the couch. As he stared down at her, he rocked back and forth on the heels of his feet. Finally, he took out one of his monogrammed handkerchiefs from his suit pocket and handed it to her. “Emma, what’s wrong?”

  “I just got my period.”

  He grimaced. “Um, I’m sorry. I’ve got some Advil over in my desk if you’ve got the cramps or something.”

  She blew her nose and glared up at him. “Don’t you get it? I got my period, so I’m not pregnant.”

  “Oh,” he murmured, finally understanding her major freak-out.

  “And I know getting pregnant the first time was a long shot and all, but I can’t help thinking what if I can’t get pregnant? I mean, sure my gynecologist says I’m healthy and capable, but what if she’s wrong?”

  Aidan opened his mouth, but Emma kept barreling on, her voice raising an octave. “Or what if I just have this huge mental block that becomes a physical one where I can’t conceive? What if I wasted all my fertile years and now I’m just going to be barren and alone for the rest of my life?”

  She broke down again, her chest heaving from the hard sobs that racked her. Aidan stood rooted to the floor, silently debating about turning on his heels and running out the door. What the hell was he supposed to do with her like this? Reluctantly, he sank down beside her on the couch. Without him even offering, Emma threw herself at him. Her tear-soaked cheeks pressed into his neck while her body trembled against him. He momentarily froze, and she might as well been comforted by a marble statue.

  He cleared his throat and tried to get his bearings. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t cry,” he said, patting her back. That seemed to be the encouragement Emma needed because she then tightened her arms around his neck. Since he didn’t know what in the hell else to do, he just let her cry.

  An eternity seemed to pass before she had worn herself out. Her breath came in frustrated pants, and her body shuddered. “Are you okay now?” he asked hesitantly.

  Emma jerked away at the sound of his voice. Suddenly, a mortified expression flashed across her face. “Oh God, I’m so, so sorry! I can’t believe I came up here and freaked out on you!”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not. Shit! When I saw…when I knew I wasn’t pregnant, all I could think of was getting to you. I even bypassed Casey’s office.” She shuddered. “God, I’m so embarrassed you had to see me acting like such a psycho!” she moaned, burying her head in her hands.

  Trying to lighten the mood, Aidan said, “You know, you’re kinda giving me a complex here.”

  Emma raised her head. “What?”

  “I think deep down you’re most upset about the prospect of having to have sex with me again.”

  She giggled. “No, that’s not it at all.” Nudging him playfully, she
asked, “Don’t tell me you are actually underestimating yourself in the bedroom department?”

  He grinned. “Not exactly.”

  “I didn’t think so.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “No, Aidan, sex with you has been the biggest surprise of all in my crazy scheme.”

  “A surprise? You’re sure not one for stroking the male ego, are you?”

  “Stop fishing for compliments, Mr. Fitzgerald.” Emma cupped his face with her hands, trailing her thumb along the stubble on his cheek. “Besides, I thought I did a pretty good job of stroking you the last time we were together.” When his eyes widened, she laughed. “And in seven to ten days when I’m fertile again, I look forward to finding myself back in the bed of such a sex god as yourself—as long as you’re willing.”

  “Oh, I’ll be willing.” He took one of her hands and kissed her fingers. “I could be willing now.”

  She shook her head. “Seven to ten days.”

  He groaned. “You love to torture me, don’t you?”

  “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you then.” Emma gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. “I really do want to thank you though. My freak-out today…it wasn’t just about not being pregnant.”

  “It wasn’t?” he asked, warily.

  Drawing in a ragged breath, she said, “Today is the two year anniversary of my mom passing away. Days like these are always hard, but then realizing I wasn’t pregnant…it was kind of a double blow.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. I lost my mom five years ago. Her birthday, Mother’s Day, the day she died—they’re a bitch.”

  Emma stared in awe at him, and Aidan felt surprised at himself as well. He had never imagined him sharing something so personal, but there was something about Emma that made him want to open up—to share things with her he usually wouldn’t dare. “Were you close to her?” she asked softly.

  Aidan shifted uncomfortably as a reel of loving memories played like a movie in his mind. “Yeah, I was. Well, I’m still close to my dad. But my mom….” A small smile curved on his lips. “She was thirty-eight when I was born. I was the long awaited son to carry on the family name, and the late-in-life baby.”

  “I bet she spoiled you rotten,” Emma mused.

  “She did. And my four sisters.” He shook his head. “Jesus, it’s a wonder I’m not gay growing up around all that estrogen.”

  Emma laughed. “No, instead you became a manwhore.”

  “Hey now,” he replied, nudging her knee with his.

  “How about a manwhore with a heart of gold?”

  “That’s a little better.”

  She smiled. “Thanks for giving me a shoulder to cry on.”

  “I’m glad I could help.”

  They sat motionless for a few seconds, staring into each other’s eyes. Finally, Emma cleared her throat and stood up. “I guess I better head on home now.”

  When she started past him, Aidan grabbed her arm. “Why don’t you come home with me tonight?” For a moment, he thought someone else was speaking. His voice sounded foreign to him, not to mention what it had suggested was a completely foreign notion to him. He rarely invited women to his home—it was always their place or a hotel room. Only long-time sexual partners crossed that barrier. But Emma was turning him into a total emotional pansy and making him break all his rules. First, he’d stayed the night with her, and now he was asking her to his house.

  If he was surprised, Emma was floored. “W-What?”

  “You know, so you don’t have to be alone with everything that’s happened today.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded. “I could throw some steaks on the grill, or I could make us some pasta or shrimp scampi.”

  “You cook?” she asked incredulously.

  “Yes, smartass, I cook.”

  “I’m impressed. I had no idea you were such a triple threat. I mean, culinary skills, being master of the universe at work, and of course we can’t forget your bedroom talents.”

  He laughed. “I’m full of surprises, babe.”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip, and Aidan was sure she was waging a battle with herself on whether she should take him up on his offer. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

  “I’m positive. We can just hang around and relax.”

  “That sounds heavenly.”

  “Meet you outside in ten?”

  Emma nodded. “Want to give me directions or just follow you?”

  “I can just take you and bring you back to your car.”

  “Oh no, that’s too much trouble.”

  “Em, it’s fine. Why don’t you meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes?”

  “Okay, that sounds good.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Emma’s mind raged war on herself the entire elevator ride back down to her floor. You’re breaking all your rules going to his house! Remember your ‘get in, do the deed, and get out’ mantra? Agreeing to let him cook for you and try to console you is sure as hell not a part of that. You’re going to regret this! She had become her own worst enemy.

  “Enough!” she shouted just as the elevator doors opened. The two women waiting to get on gave her a strange look. She ducked her head and then power walked to her office. Grabbing up her purse and bag, she slammed and then locked the door.

  Once she got downstairs, she paced around the lobby. Just when she thought about bailing on Aidan to preserve her own sanity, he appeared before her. “Sorry I kept you waiting.”

  “Um, no, it’s fine.”

  She followed him out the side door to the parking deck. When the keyless entry in his hands flashed the lights of a coal black Mercedes convertible, she gave a low whistle. “Nice car, Mr. Fitzgerald.”

  Aidan chuckled. “Thank you, Miss Harrison.”

  “I’m impressed I get to be escorted in such style.”

  He shook his head. “There you go with that mouth again.”

  Emma tossed her bag on the floorboard and then slid across the leather seat. Besides the fact it cost twice as much as her Honda, it was impeccably clean on the inside. Not a crumb or spec of dust could be found while in her car a small village could have been fed by leftover food of grabbing breakfast or dinner on the run.

  “Mind if I put the top down?”

  “No, please do. It’s beautiful out today.”

  Aidan hit a button on the console, and the roof started to retract. As they exited the parking deck, Emma dug in her purse for a clip. After sweeping her long hair back, she closed her eyes and let breeze wash over her.

  “Don’t tell me I’m so boring you’re going to sleep on me?”

  Emma giggled. “I’m sorry. I was just resting my eyes for a minute.”

  They weren’t on the interstate long before Aidan got off on an exit. When he pulled into an older, established neighborhood, Emma turned to him in surprise. “You live here?”

  He chuckled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I saw you living in a sleek and trendy apartment building with a swinging bachelor pad.”

  “Well, if you want the truth, I used to live in, as you say, a sleek and trendy apartment building, downtown. But then my sister, Angie, who is a real estate agent, convinced me that I needed to stop throwing money away renting and make an investment in some property. Somehow she smooth talked me into to buying in our other sister, Becky’s, neighborhood.” He glanced over at her and grinned. “I think it was more on the pretense of them being able to keep tabs on me, but it evens out because I get a lot of free meals.” He pointed to the left at an enormous two-story colonial with a wrap around front porch. “That’s Becky’s.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” Aidan replied, making another turn. “She needs a big house to keep the monsters in.”

  “Monsters?”

  “My three nephews.”

  Emma giggled. “I see.”

  Aidan eased into the driveway of a two-story brick
house with white columns. Emma’s jaw dropped at how typically un-Aidan the house appeared. All that was lacking was a white picket fence with toys strewn about, and he would look like a regular suburban husband and father.

  After Emma got out of the car, she walked out of the garage and widened her eyes at the emerald green grass and multicolored flowers. “Wow, did you do all this?” she asked, motioning to the immaculately kept lawn.

  Aidan snorted. “Oh God no. I can’t grow anything but a little mold in my refrigerator. My dad is the one with the green thumb. Not only that, but he’s retired, so it’s his mission in life to do yard-work for his kids.”

  “That’s really sweet of him.” She followed Aidan up the front porch steps and into the house. He punched in the code for the alarm when it started beeping. She tried not to show her surprise as she took in the wide-open floor plan of the living room. Floor to ceiling windows bathed the room in light, and high wooden beams crisscrossed over the ceiling. Considering what she had first thought of him, she expected furniture that was functional, modern, yet cold. Nothing like the warm overstuffed chair and love seat or the antique quilt swept over a couch. “Did you have a decorator?” she asked as she trailed behind him into the kitchen.

  “No, I did it all myself. Well, my sisters helped of course. They take it upon themselves to spoil me in all domestic areas.” He turned around and surveyed her expression. “So you like it?”

  “Like it? I love it. You’ve gone above and beyond just investing in some property. This is a home anyone would be proud of.”

  A slow smile spread across his face. “Thank you. Coming from someone like you, that means a lot.”

  “Someone like me?”

  He raked his fingers through his hair, stopping to tug at the strands at the nape of his neck. “Oh you know, someone who is real—someone who appreciates a home over a house.”

  Emma opened her mouth to respond, but a loud thump interrupted them.

  Aidan rolled his eyes. “I should probably warn you about Beau.”