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Surprise Daddy: A Billionaire Doctor Accidental Pregnancy Romance Page 6
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I nod. “Noted.”
She fidgets with her bottle, looking suddenly embarrassed and uncomfortable. She probably hadn’t meant to blurt it out quite like that. Me laughing at her likely isn’t making her feel any better about it. Not wanting her to feel any worse than she already does, I do my best to bite back my laughter and the laundry list of teasing responses already queuing up on my tongue. When I fall silent, she finally looks up again and seems to get back on even footing. Well – even-ish, anyway.
“I just know how people are around here, and I’m not really like that,” she stammers. “I just thought it important to establish some clear boundaries.”
“Fair enough,” I tell her.
There’s a strained moment of silence between us as the remnants of that awkward exchange slowly evaporate. She takes a long drink of her beer and sets the bottle down gently, then looks up at me with questions in her eyes.
As I take in her features, I can’t help but be struck again by her beauty. Her skin is clear and smooth, without a hint of makeup, and she’s flawless. She’s most definitely got that wholesome girl-next-door appeal working for her, and I find it incredibly sexy. I find everything from the curve of her hips to the swell of her breasts to her long, elegant fingers to be enticing. As I look at her, I feel that familiar stirring in my groin and feel my cock hardening.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” she breaks the silence. “You said you wanted to talk. Clear the air or whatever. So?”
“Right,” I say as I shift in my seat, trying to get comfortable with a raging hard on in my pants. “I just know that things between us have been tense, and I was hoping we could do something about that.”
“Like what?”
I shrug. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I’d just like to find a way to somehow put the tension behind us.”
“Well, you could start by not being such an arrogant asshole.”
Her comment seems to come out of the blue so hard that I’m left speechless for a minute. But it’s so unexpected; I can’t keep from laughing. And once it bursts out of me, I can’t stop. Scarlet sits there staring at me stone faced at first, but then she can’t help herself and cracks a smile. From there, it’s not long before she’s laughing with me. It takes a minute for our laughter to fade.
“Wow. Straight and to the point,” I finally manage.
She gives me a small shrug. “No point in beating around the bush.”
“I can appreciate that,” I tell her. “So, why do you think I’m an arrogant asshole?”
She opens her mouth but then seems to have second thoughts and closes it again. Though it seems a bit like trying to close the proverbial barn door now that the horse is out. I don’t know why she’s holding back. I’m not her boss, and she’s not going to suffer any professional repercussions for lighting me up.
“Speak your mind,” I tell her. “Let’s get it out in the open. Like I said, I want to clear the air.”
She hesitates for a brief moment but then as if feeling emboldened, Scarlet goes on a screed, listing off all my worst qualities and why it is she finds me so objectionable. She lays out all of my faults, foibles, and the things about me that just piss her off.
It’s quite a thorough, comprehensive list. When she’s finished, she drains the last of her beer and sets the bottle back down, leans back in her seat, and stares at me as if she’s bracing herself for me to breathe some fire of my own. After all, clearing the air is a two-way street, right?
I purse my lips and stand up. I can feel her eyes on me as I walk over to the bar and grab a couple more bottles, then carry them back to the table. I set one down in front of her, then take a long pull of my own. All the while, Scarlet remains silent. She just sits there watching me.
“Thought your throat must be dry after that diatribe and that you could use a refill,” I explain.
A sheepish expression crosses her face as she picks up the bottle and takes a drink. She sits back again, still clutching the beer as a wry smile touches her lips.
“Sorry,” she says. “I guess I can get carried away when I get heated.”
“No need for you to apologize,” I shake my head. “The only way to clear the air is to be honest. And you were certainly that.”
Scarlet gives me an impish smile that brings out her dimples, making her look even more adorable than she usually does. Which only serves to inflame my cock even further. I clear my throat and shift in my seat again, trying to find a more comfortable position.
“Is there anything else?” I ask. “Anything more you want to get off your chest?”
She screws up her face. “No, I think that about covers it.”
“Good,” I start. “Now that we have that out of the way, we can start fresh.”
An inscrutable look crosses her face. “You think it’s that easy, huh?”
“It could be.”
She takes a long pull of her beer and looks back at me. I can see the skepticism on her face. She’s clearly not buying what she thinks I’m selling. Obviously, she needs a little more from me to get her there. I let out a long breath and run a hand through my hair.
“I know I can be difficult sometimes,” I admit. “I think arrogant might be a bridge too far, but –”
“I don’t,” she says, but gives me a small grin.
“Be that as it may, the point is that I know I’m difficult at times,” I go on. “I know I have a particular way of doing things, and I can be stubborn. I’m not always the easiest to get along with –”
“Wait, wait, hold up a minute here,” she cuts me off. “Is this – are you actually apologizing to me?”
“Let’s not get crazy here,” I chuckle.
That sly grin is still painting her lips, and there’s a sparkle in her eye I haven’t seen before. The air between us has lightened. It’s not quite filled with as much tension as it was even five minutes ago. There’s an almost – playful – quality about her now. As if admitting that I can be an asshole has somehow unlocked something inside of her. Or at least unplugged something that was stopped up between us that’s allowing all that tension to drain away.
“Look, I have no idea how long I’m going to be here. It could be a week, it could be a month, or even longer, if Lyvers has his way,” I tell her. “And personally, I’d rather have a good working relationship with you than walk on eggshells all the time. So, I apologize for perhaps being a bit more harsh with you than I should have been. Harsher than you deserved. It wasn’t right for me to yell at you, and yeah, I deserved some of that dressing-down you just gave me. I just don’t want our work to be clouded by dumb tension and drama.”
She nods slowly. “It would be nice to not feel so tense all the time.”
“Good,” I agree. “Then we start fresh. Clean slate and all that.”
She purses her lips and stares at me for a long moment, as if debating the question in her mind. Finally, she seems to come to a decision within herself and raises her bottle.
“Okay,” she finally says. “To clean slates.”
I pick up my bottle and tap it against hers, toasting our fresh new start and take a drink. She gives me a smile and somehow, she’s even more beautiful than before. Her smile lights up her face, and she seems to be glowing from the inside out.
“So – friends?” I smile.
“Friends.”
With that out of the way and all ruffled feathers finally smoothed out, we spend the next couple of hours drinking and talking. I learn a lot about her and her life back home. She’s an interesting person, with some personality quirks that make her even more adorable to me. I don’t know why, but I’m surprised to learn that we’ve got some shared interests and common experiences.
But there is a lot about her that remains shrouded in mystery. Although she seems like she’s opened up and shared a lot about herself with me, there is a lot that she keeps hidden away. She’s a master at dodging questions or redirecting the subject we’re discussing if it hits too cl
ose to her comfort zone.
Scarlet thinks she’s getting away with it, but that’s only because I don’t press the issue. I let her wriggle off the hook and don’t force her to talk about things that obviously make her uncomfortable – which is pretty much anything of a really personal nature. I don’t want to make her feel trapped or uncomfortable, so I just let things go when she starts to get a little twitchy about something.
I can see that she’s a woman who’s had some bad experiences in life. She’s been burned before, and those wounds are still close to the surface for her. She’s a woman who’s guarded and keeps her feelings protected. I can tell she hides behind some high, thick emotional walls. She doesn’t let anybody get too close to her. Not very easily anyway.
By the end of the evening, I feel like I know her fairly well. At least, in terms of what she lets me get to know. But more than anything, I feel even more intrigued by her. And I want to know even more.
7
Scarlet
“Dinner tonight?”
I give a start and look up to see Roman leaning against the counter, grinning at me. I’d been so consumed with my paperwork – not to mention lost in thought a bit – that I hadn’t even heard him walk up. I give him a smile.
“Sounds good to me,” I answer. “I’m starving.”
“Excellent,” he taps the counter. “Then I’ll see you at about eight?”
“Eight it is.”
His grin widens as he walks away, whistling some tune to himself. I can’t say everything’s been perfectly smooth, but things between me and Roman over the past few weeks have been a lot better. Roman is a perfectionist. He’s absolutely type-A, and he’s got a horrid temper. But ever since the night we got together for a drink, he hasn’t turned that temper on me. In fact, for the most part, he’s been nothing but pleasant to be around.
And if I’m being honest with myself, I have to say that he’s a lot different than I initially thought. Oh, don’t get me wrong – he’s a hardass who can be pretty smug, and even condescending at times. But he’s more than that. There’s a depth and a substance to him that is easy to miss behind his brash, bordering on arrogant attitude.
That attitude, not to mention his temper, can be so off putting that people prefer to avoid him rather than risk getting caught in his crosshairs. Most people don’t see below the surface of what he presents. He seems so invested in putting that image of himself out there, that as I’ve gotten to know him and have seen behind the curtain a bit, I’ve started to wonder if it’s intentional.
Spending time with him over the past few weeks, and seeing who he really is, has made me wonder why he puts up such a cynical and salty front. It makes me wonder why he seems to actively push most people away and keep them at an arm’s distance. He’s an incredibly guarded guy. He prevents anybody from getting to know him, and I don’t know why.
I mean, he’s far from perfect – far, far from perfect – but underneath that crusty outer shell he presents to the world, he’s actually a pretty good guy.
Roman is intelligent. He’s very well-read and can speak about a wide range of topics with an air of command about it. He’s a bit of a goofball, a lot funnier than I expected, and he’s good to talk to. He actually listens – and listens closely. Which is something that surprises me to no end. When I first met Roman, I pegged him as the kind of guy who was so self-absorbed, he wouldn’t listen to anything anybody had to say, because he’d be too busy talking about himself. I was wrong.
If anything, he’s reluctant to talk about himself, which surprises me. There are a lot of subjects about his life that are apparently off limits. I’ve poked and prodded around the edges, delving as deep as I can, but he shuts it down almost immediately. It, of course, makes me intensely curious about the man, but I’m not the type who pries too deeply. I figure if he wants to open up, he will.
Besides, I’m doing my best to not get too heavily attached to him. He’s been here longer than either of us had expected, but we got word a few days ago that he’s set to rotate out tomorrow. I can’t lie and say that I’m not sad about that. I’m going to be really sad to see him go.
Neither of us has brought it up. We haven’t spoken a word about it since he told me. It almost feels like we’re both in denial and think that if we don’t mention it, then it won’t actually happen. But he’s got his orders from the military, so the reality is that he’s leaving. Which makes tonight our final meal together. Even thinking those words sends a sharp pinching pain straight through my heart.
“Well you two have certainly been spending a lot of time together.”
I look up from my papers and into Andrea’s smiling face. She’s leaning against the counter just like Roman had been, and just like Roman, I hadn’t heard her walk up.
“You people are getting good at sneaking up on me,” I comment. “I may need to start requiring you guys to wear a bell.”
Andrea laughs. “Well, look who’s deflecting,” she beams. “I guess that means you two are banging?”
I laugh. “That would be a no,” I tell her. “We are most definitely not banging?”
An expression of feigned disappointment crosses her face. “Oh honey, what am I going to do with you?” she gives me a tsk. “You’ve been seeing him pretty consistently the last few weeks, not to mention neglecting little old me in the process, and – nothing?”
I laugh. “I have not been neglecting you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been spending a lot of time with Dr. Australia.”
A smile touches her lips, and there’s a strange look in her eye I don’t think I’ve seen before. She tries to dismiss this as a casual fling, but I can see that he means a lot more to Andrea than she’s willing to admit. Maybe even to herself. But she obviously doesn’t want to be too open about it yet, so I’ll let her play it out how she likes.
“Don’t change the subject,” she grins. “We’re talking about you, spinster girl.”
I can’t help but smile. “Fine. I actually enjoy spending time with him – with our clothes on,” I say. “Roman is a good guy. He’s good to talk to. We have a good time together.”
“That’s not what you said the first night you met him.” She arches an eyebrow.
I give her a small shrug. “What can I say? I was wrong about him.”
She leans further over the counter, eyeing me closely. Andrea sniffs the air, and a sly smile stretches across her face as she looks at me.
“What are you doing?” I laugh.
“You’re totally into him,” she gasps.
“I am not.”
Andrea taps her nose. “I know that smell,” she grins. “Smells like love to me.”
Still laughing, I roll my eyes dramatically. “Please. You couldn’t be more wrong if you tried.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Positive,” I respond. “Besides, he’s rotating out tomorrow, so even if I were into him – which I’m not – it’s not like it could go anywhere anyway.”
“You’ve heard of phones, right?” she prods. “Email. Things like that?”
“Still not happening.”
She shrugs. “I guess we’ll see.”
Andrea walks off, her laughter echoing down the hallway behind her as she goes. I sit there shaking my head but smiling. Truth be told, in another place and under different circumstances, maybe I’d let myself be interested in pursuing something more with Roman. But we’re not in different circumstances.
We are where we are, and our circumstances are what they are. Nothing I can really do about that.
“I never see stars like this back home, so I like to come up here to look at them,” I say. “Is that weird?”
He shakes his head. “Not in the least. I can see why you do. It’s peaceful up here.”
“It’s always been weird to me to see something so beautiful in a place so –”
“Not beautiful?”
“Yeah,” I respond. “So not beautiful.”
After dinner, we grabbed a blanket from the dorms, a bottle of wine I’d squirreled away a while back and headed up to the roof of the hospital. It’s not a great bottle of wine, but it’s passable and a rare treat in this place. It’s warm, but thankfully not stiflingly hot. It’s also an unusually quiet night in the city. For the first time in what seems like forever, the sounds of gunfire or things blowing up aren’t echoing through the night air. The world around us is just – quiet. It’s as if everything in the universe aligned just right to give us one peaceful night together.
The roof is where I like to come when I need to decompress and get away from the stresses of the hospital. It’s kind of like my garden of Zen in the sea of madness all around us. I know I’m not the only one who comes up here, but I like to think of this as my place. And I don’t know why, but I felt like sharing my space with Roman tonight. I guess because it’s his last night here, I wanted him to stop and appreciate the beauty that exists in the world – something I don’t think he does all that often.
We lay there enjoying our cheap wine and some quiet conversation as we stare up at the stars in the sky above. The moon hangs full and bright in the distance, and the stars look like millions of cold, sparkling chips of diamond laid out on soft, black velvet. All around us are burned out buildings riddled with bullet holes, broken windows, and holes punched through their walls. We’re surrounded by death and destruction – which makes the juxtaposition of such unmarred beauty hanging overhead all the more striking.
“How much longer do you have left in the Navy?” I ask.
“Three months,” he replies.
“What’s next for you?”
He sits up and takes a drink of his wine. “Back to the States. Go to work,” he says. “My father has a job lined up for me.”
“Back to Chicago, huh?”
A pained look crosses his face, and he suddenly seems darker and more morose than he did thirty seconds ago. He practically spit the words ‘my father’ out with a fair amount of venom, that tells me there’s something there that’s causing him to hurt. He does his best to quickly shrug it off and stuff it all down. He puts a smile back on his face, but it’s one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and looks more than a little forced. I sit up and put my hand on his arm.