Blue Skies (9 page)

He was a cocky, pushy, conceited, overbearing
jerk,
and she wished she’d never met him. She flicked a look at the grocery sacks, which held her morning sickness cure. After walking eight blocks round-trip to get the groceries, she wasn’t about to let him make off with them.

She shoved her arm through the crack. “Give me my bags.”

He smiled. “And have you slam the door in my face? If possible, I prefer to avoid yelling what I want to say through the keyhole. Let’s negotiate a deal. You invite me in, and then I’ll give you the bags.”

Through clenched teeth, she fairly snarled, “Give me those groceries, or else.”

“Or else what?”

Carly knew it would be childish to make threats she couldn’t deliver on, so instead she cried, “Or else I’ll call the police!”

He lowered the bags to look inside. “Frozen Brussels sprouts and”—he tipped his head to read a label—“sauerkraut? I don’t think that qualifies as grand theft. I’ll take my chances.”

Between one breath and the next, Carly went from merely angry to absolutely seething. “You are
impossible
.”

Still blocking the doorway with one boot, he lowered the bags to his side and relaxed his shoulders, apparently prepared to stand there all day if necessary. “Would you do me the honor of going out with me for breakfast? There’s an IHOP a couple of blocks over, fabulous pancakes, great coffee, and always packed with people. We could talk there without drawing attention.”

Just the thought of trying to eat a pancake made her gorge rise. “No, I will not. I just want you to hand over my groceries and go away.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.”

Before she could guess what he meant to do, he planted a shoulder against the wood and pushed his way inside. Staggering back, Carly stared stupidly up at him as he closed and locked the door.

“Get out!” she cried. “You can’t barge in here like this.”

He panned the room, as if looking for reinforcements. “You and what army is going to stop me?” He tucked the key back into her pocket and thrust the grocery bags into her arms. “I tried doing this the nice way, Carly. Now we’ll do it the hard way. End result, we’re going to talk.”

“I’ll say this only one more time.
Get out
.”

“Sorry, darlin’, it just ain’t happenin’. You haven’t seen stubborn until you’ve gone a few rounds with me.”

Carly had an unholy urge to bean him with the bag of jarred sauerkraut. “What can you possibly hope to gain by forcing your way into my apartment? Do you honestly believe such behavior is going to make me feel more inclined to talk to you? What do you hope to prove, that you’re bigger than I am?”

“If I have to prove I’m bigger than you are, we’re both in trouble.”

Carly could only wonder what that meant. He wasn’t forthcoming with an explanation. He folded his muscular arms. “As for your inclinations, I don’t much care at this point whether you talk or not. I have plenty to say.”

She didn’t like the sound of that.

“Go ahead and put away the food,” he offered congenially. “Don’t let me stop you. I can talk while you work.”

Carly took a mental inventory of her alternatives and quickly determined there weren’t any. A very large, determined male stood in her living room, blocking the only exit. There was no way she’d ever get around him. To make matters worse, she recalled with bitter clarity how easily he’d swept her up in his arms and deposited her on the back seat of his truck that night. Did she really,
really
want to initiate a physical struggle?

The answer was no, not if she could avoid it.

She spun around and marched into the kitchen, acutely aware of him following at her heels. The groceries went
plunk
on the counter when she set them down.

“So, start talking. You’ve got five minutes. If you’re not out of here then, I’ll call the police.” She shot a burning look at the telephone. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking I won’t do it. My patience with you is wearing perilously thin.”

Resting a shoulder against the end of the wall that divided the kitchen from the living room, he flicked a lazy glance at the wall phone, then removed his Stetson and tossed it the length of the living room onto the sofa. The absence of the hat shaved a few inches off his height, but that failed to make her feel better.

He raked his fingers through his hair to remove the hatband ring. “Is there any way we can back up a few paces and start over fresh?”

“No. Why bother? There’s no improving on abysmally awful.”

She pulled a box of frozen Brussels sprouts from the sack, emptied the square chunk of frozen vegetables into a bowl, partially thawed it under hot water, and stuck it in the microwave. Then she turned her attention to putting away the other food. She left a jar of sauerkraut and a carton of chocolate milk sitting on the counter.

“Is that your breakfast?”

“If you don’t care for my eating habits, you can leave the same way you came in.”

He sighed and shifted his weight against the wall to cross his ankles. Never more than in that moment had the apartment seemed so tiny. Carly had had little practice at guessing people’s heights, but she guessed him to stand well over six feet. His well-packed but lean frame dwarfed her and everything else, even the old tank of a refrigerator.

After uncapping the sauerkraut, she grabbed a fork and started eating. She had no choice. If she didn’t get something on her stomach soon, she’d be on her knees in the bathroom, worshiping the porcelain god all morning.

Between mouthfuls, she said, “So? Start talking. Seconds are wasting. Five minutes. That’s it. Then you’re out of here, one way or another.”

He flicked another glance at the phone hanging inches from his arm. “We’re in this together, you and I,” he said softly. “It’d be so much nicer if we could work things out in a way that satisfies both of us.”

Carly forked more sauerkraut into her mouth, glaring at him as she chewed. “I want no part of togetherness with you. I might catch something.”

He had the audacity to smile. “No danger. I’ve always used protection.” He winced when her glare made him realize what he’d said. “You were my one and only slip.”

“So you say.”

“If you’re honestly concerned about the possibility of an STD, I’ll go get tested and show you the results.”

Carly had been concerned about the possibility, but she would never admit it to him. He’d know then that she’d spent countless hours obsessing about their encounter. Better for him to think that he’d never crossed her mind.

“An STD is the least of my worries at the moment.” She punctuated that statement by shoving more sauerkraut in her mouth.

“I know. Which is why we’re due for a nice, long talk.”

The microwave timer pinged. Carly pulled out her Brussels sprouts and hungrily began devouring them, alternating each mouthful with a huge mound of sauerkraut. Every few chews, she grabbed the chocolate milk and took a swig. She didn’t care if the milk left a smear on her upper lip. She sincerely hoped Hank grew disgusted and walked out.

No such luck. He only watched her, his expression a mixture of incredulity and appalled curiosity. “No wonder you’re getting morning sickness.”

“Actually, this helps a little,” she said with a Brussels sprout puffing out her cheek. “And how do you know I’ve had morning sickness?”

He looked momentarily nonplussed by the question. Then he recovered and said, “Most pregnant women do.”

Carly was tempted to question him further, but she decided the less she participated in this conversation, the better. Even so, she couldn’t resist saying, “For a man so determined to talk to me, you seem to have precious little to say.”

“I’m working my way up to it.”

Carly stepped to the sink to moisten a paper towel. As she moved away from him, his face became a dark blur of bronze. After wiping her mouth, she returned to her meal and said, “Your five minutes is quickly going.”

He nodded. His jaw muscle started to tic. Carly remembered listening to novels on tape and wondering how a ticcing jaw muscle looked. Now, at long last, she finally knew. It looked angry—and determined—and more than a little intimidating. She had a bad feeling that Hank Coulter was on a mission and wouldn’t back off until he had accomplished it.

Finally, he said, “Carly, I’ve come here to make you a proposition.”

“A proposition?” She slanted him a burning look and shoved more sauerkraut into her mouth.

“Not that kind of proposition.” He pushed his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans, which had the unsettling effect of making his shoulders look broader. “Let’s look at the situation rationally. All right?”

“Are you implying that I’m not being rational, Mr. Coulter?”

“No, I don’t mean to imply that you’re being irrational,” he said evenly. “Bad choice of words. What I am saying is that we need to look at this situation from all angles, weigh the potential problems against our resources to resolve them, and try to make decisions in the best interest of you and our child.”

“My child,” she corrected.

His blue eyes began to glitter. “
Our
child. I am the father.”

“So you claim.”

“It can be easily verified with a simple blood test. Don’t even go there. I will play an active role in my child’s life, with or without your cooperation. Trust me when I say things will be more pleasant for you if you cooperate.”

Carly struggled to swallow a Brussels sprout. For a horrible moment, she thought she might choke. “Are you threatening me?”

“Interpret it any way you like. I’m the father of that baby, and I have certain inalienable rights, not to mention responsibilities. The state will back me on both counts. It’s in your best interest not to be at loggerheads with me.”

Definitely a threat
. Carly’s craving for the vegetables abruptly diminished, and she dropped the fork into the jar with a resounding clink.

“Here are the facts.”

He went on to list all the reasons why she needed his help, some of which he couldn’t possibly know unless someone close to her had given him the information. Carly was trembling by the time he finished.

“How do you know all this?”

“I did some digging. Have I said anything so far that isn’t true?”

Carly just stared at him.

“Now for my side of it.” He pushed away from the wall. “I’m not a rich man, but I make damned good money now. I broke all my own rules the night I met you, and as a result, I’ve messed up your life in ways that may affect your whole future.”

“My future is my concern.”

“Ordinarily, I’d agree with you. But now that you’re pregnant with my child, I have a vested interest. It’s my responsibility to safeguard that child’s welfare, both emotionally and financially, and your successes and failures will have a direct impact.”

“For a barroom lothario, you seem to take fatherhood awfully seriously.”

Carly wasn’t sure, but she thought his lips went white. “I have that coming, I guess.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as if he were swallowing one of her Brussels sprouts whole. “For the moment, though, let’s leave my checkered past out of it and concentrate on straightening out this mess.”

Carly wanted to say it was her mess to straighten out, but they’d already covered that ground.

“Here are the facts on my side of the equation,” he went on. “I can’t afford to cover all your eye-surgery expenses, plus the costs of childbirth and child care, help you stay in school, and pay for your living expenses if we maintain separate households.”

The last of what he said jangled in her brain. “Did you say ‘separate households’?”

“Don’t get upset until you hear me out.”

“Are you—?” Carly gulped and took a calming breath. “Are you suggesting that we live together?” She had a hysterical urge to laugh. “Surely you’re not
serious
.”

“I’m dead serious, but I’m not suggesting that we live together. I’m suggesting that you marry me, the sooner, the better.”

Carly couldn’t believe her ears.
“What?”

“You heard me. And before you start saying no, let me add that we can enter into the marriage on a temporary basis—a stopgap arrangement, so to speak, until you get your master’s degree. Until that occurs, I’ll put you on my insurance, which covers everything, pay all your other expenses, help care for the child to eliminate child care costs, and provide you with transportation to and from campus. I’ll also foot the bill for any special assistance you may need to complete your coursework if you go blind.”

Carly held up a hand to silence him, but he just kept talking.

“After you acquire your degree and have surgery to restore your sight, I’ll give you some start-up cash, we’ll dissolve the marriage and go our separate ways. I will, of course, expect to have visitation with my child, the schedule for which will be determined by state guidelines. I’ll also pay monthly child support, the amount of which will be based upon my annual income.”

An acidic burn moved into Carly’s throat. “You’re out of your mind. How can you think, even for a moment, that I’d consider marrying you?” She hugged her waist. “Bess had no right to tell you all this. No
right
.”

“Don’t go blaming Bess. I won’t lie and say we haven’t talked. We have. But I didn’t get all this information from her. She’s a loyal friend to you.”

“If she’s so loyal, how do you know my insurance only covers eighty percent? And that my dad lives in Arizona?”

“I’m a whiz on the Internet. With the right software, you can find out almost anything, even what kind of movies people rent.”

Carly didn’t buy it for a minute. He knew too many details that could have come only from Bess. And, oh, how that hurt.

As if he sensed her thoughts, he said, “Bess is your friend, Carly. She cares very deeply for you. Maybe she has let a few things slip, but only out of concern for you and the baby.”

“Your five minutes are up,” she said tautly.

His jaw muscle started to tic again. “I’m not leaving until we’ve settled this.”

“Oh, yes, you are. My baby and I are none of your business.”