Not Quite Perfect

Mary didn’t look at him while she spoke. Instead she removed one of the strawberries and examined it. “Let me rephrase. I’m not going to have children.” She bit into the strawberry. The moan of pleasure almost distracted him from the conversation. Almost.

“How can you be so sure?” He’d heard some of his male friends say they didn’t want to be dads, but he couldn’t remember one woman saying the same thing with as much conviction as Mary.

“I never played with dolls. Didn’t babysit as a teenager. I think babies are cute but when I see them I don’t have any desire for one of my own. All the signs point to me not wanting a child. Heck, I didn’t even pick up Leo until yesterday.” She popped the rest of the strawberry in her mouth and set the stem on the plate.

“Our house didn’t have dolls to play with and no parent in their right mind would have wanted me to babysit for them. Babies are adorable and I’ve never held Leo . . . but that doesn’t mean I won’t want to be a dad at some point.” He hated that her conviction was so absolute. Any other woman and he’d be all one less thing to worry about.

Mary lifted another strawberry from the plate. “I wouldn’t be a good mother.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“Genetics.” She bit another strawberry in half before chasing it with wine.

So this was about her being abandoned. He wasn’t about to argue the point that she could be the complete opposite of her biological parents. He simply sat on the information and watched her eat.

He brought the slice of cake from the table to the space next to what was left of the strawberries and set a fork on Mary’s side of the plate before taking a bite. “I think I’d be the cool dad.”

She smiled. “How so?”

He’d always pictured his kids in the copilot seat with big grins and complete control. He envisioned Christmas morning playing with Legos and family vacations to Disney World. “I like thrill rides,” he abbreviated his thoughts. “Parenting will be one giant roller coaster.”

Mary pointed a fork filled with cake in his direction. “That’s if you have sons. How much thrill will there be when you’re chasing away the boys from your daughter . . . boys that are a whole lot like you?”

His cake caught in his throat.

Mary laughed. “That’s what I thought.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“I’m sure you were a saint as a teenager chasing girls.”

She had his number. “I’m still a saint chasing girls.”

Mary was laughing again and attempting to keep food in her mouth. “You are destined for daughters. Be prepared.”

“I think you just jinxed me.”

She took another bite. “I think I did.”

He waited until her mouth was full to ask, “So is it good? Li’l Miss I’m Too Full.”

Mary pushed the plate to his side of the sofa. “It’s awful.” She licked her fork with the tip of her tongue. Thoughts of teenage daughters chasing away boys disappeared and all Glen saw was something else on the tip of Mary’s tongue.

“Lucky fork.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Chapter Sixteen

Mary was convinced that Glen was not going to make a move.

He’d held her hand, bundled her close walking on the cool New York streets . . . he offered a warm welcome, poured her wine, and watched her eat strawberries like a porn star, but he was not inching closer.

She kept eyeing the closed door to the room he was supposed to sleep in with remorse.

For all the playing Glen had under his reputation, he was not playing her.

Maybe it was her.

Maybe he was studying for a new reputation and she was the control group.

A tiny voice said in a whispered shout, maybe he’s trying to be a gentleman.

The tiny voice suddenly had a devil’s smile. Maybe you should make the first move.

Mary wondered if Dakota had sent the message subliminally.

He’d brushed off his lucky fork comment and put the dishes back on the service cart and refilled their wine.

“Someone got very quiet,” he said when he sat back down.

The wine was making her dizzy, but it didn’t stop her from taking another sip. “This is good.”

“So you’re sitting there contemplating the wine?”

“Nope.” She shook her head and gathered her courage. “I’m contemplating something else.”

He leaned back with such ease, his wineglass dangled from his fingers and a smile inched up from the corners of his mouth. “Are you going to tell me?”

She took another sip. “I’m considering that option.”

“Now you have me very curious.”

Make a move!

“I’m wondering . . .” She forced her eyes to his. “I’m wondering if I should go to bed or force you to take me to yours.”

The smile on his lips moved to his eyes as he met her admission with a moment of silence. “Force me?” The question slowly rolled from his tongue in amusement.

That was not the word she’d meant to use. “Forget I said that.”

Glen started shaking his head. “Uh-uh . . . can’t do that. I would really like to see what Mary forcing me to take her to bed looks like.” He was still sitting back against the sofa, completely relaxed, while she was starting to tap her foot against the floor.