“March twentieth.” It seemed she wouldn’t have to actually speak the words after all. But so there was zero confusion, she needed to say, “And you’re the only person... That is, there hasn’t been anyone else, for almost two years before you. Or at all after, so...”
“We used a condom,” he pointed out. “Both times.”
“We did,” she affirmed, “but they’re not one hundred percent foolproof, as I’m sure you know. And I’ve had no reason to be on birth control pills for a while, and I don’t typically go to bars by myself, and I never—until that night with you—act so...um...spontaneously.”
Meaning, she didn’t go home—or to hotels—with men she didn’t know, regardless of how many drinks she’d consumed or how lonely and out-of-sorts she felt.
Never once in her life before meeting Logan. Well, she supposed there was always a first time. It was just her luck that her solitary step onto the wild side had coincided with ineffective birth control and a body primed and ready to conceive.
“I’m not sure it matters how or why this happened,” she said in a firm voice. “The facts are that I’m pregnant, and you are responsible for half of the DNA this baby carries. So, that’s why I’m here. I thought you should know.”
“Of course I should know.” He didn’t sound ticked off, really, or all that surprised. Just accepting and serious and maybe resigned. She got all three, as she felt the same and she’d known for months. “And why did you wait this long to tell me?”
“To be sure everything seemed healthy. To adjust. To make peace with the idea on my own first. Because—” she met his gaze with hers “—I didn’t know how to tell you.”
He nodded, closed his eyes and let out a short breath. “Sensible, on every account, and I understand.” Opening his eyes, he pushed himself off the wall. “But from here on out, I want to know every detail of how you and the baby are doing.”
“I think that’s fair, assuming you intend on being involved,” she said. “But we’ll have to have a conversation—several, probably—to figure out what that will mean.”
“Oh, without question, I intend to be involved.” His jaw hardened slightly. “In fact, my vast, overriding preference is for us to get married. As soon as possible.”
Married? Shock came first—at the ease of the proposition—followed by, strangely, a profound sense of relief at the one and only response Anna hadn’t anticipated. It settled deep in her bones. The sensation was that strong, that real. She shook her head, tried to make sense of his words and her reaction. “Am I hearing you correctly? You’re proposing marriage?”
“If there’s going to be a baby, then I think there should be a wedding,” he said without so much as a tremor of doubt or indecision clouding his tenor voice. “But—and I’m thinking aloud here—I don’t expect a lifelong commitment, Anna. A temporary marriage will suffice.”
“I see,” she managed to say. “Because you’re worried about my reputation?”
“I’m worried about establishing a connection to my child,” he said. “I can and will explain my reasoning, and if you need time to consider the possibility, that’s also sensible.”
She was crazy. Absolutely, certifiably nuts, because the idea sounded plausible. More than that, it sounded right. “If I were to agree, how long would this temporary marriage last?”
“My brain hasn’t gotten that far yet,” he admitted. “That’s something we’d have to discuss, if you’re not entirely opposed to the concept.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m opposed. I’m...I’m just trying to put this together in a reasonable fashion.” She pressed her fingertips against her temples. Was she seriously considering marrying a man she barely knew? Common sense tried to prevail, it did, but all she could think of and all that was in her heart was giving this baby something more than she was able to on her own.
A foundation, she supposed, to start life with.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Lots of things. Like...would we live together, for the duration of the marriage?” What she didn’t ask, what she should have asked, was if he’d expect them to share the same bed. “Or would this be an on-paper-only type of commitment?”
“If you’re leaving it up to me, then yes, we would live together. As to the depth of our relationship—” he shrugged in such a manner that the action would have appeared nonchalant if not for the severe edge of his jaw “—a platonic union would be best. To avoid confusion.”
Relief and a strange thread of disappointment clashed. For obvious reasons, she chose to focus on the relief. “It would make the situation a lot less complicated.”
“Exactly.” Logan cleared his throat. “Assuming you agree, and to put everything on the table right from the start, I’d want our child to believe that our...brief commitment to each other was based on more than an accidental and untimely conception. That we were once in—”
“Love? Are you serious?”
“Think about it, Anna. If you were conceived from a one-night stand, would you want to know? I wouldn’t. I’d rather believe my parents were together for all the right reasons.”
“I... No. I wouldn’t want to know.” Maybe later, as an adult, when she could handle that type of information. But no, not as a child. And she couldn’t stand the thought of her son or daughter carrying such a burden. Sighing, she nodded. “I see your point.”
“Good. And to serve that purpose, again assuming this happens, I would prefer to have a real wedding. Small, naturally, but not at the courthouse.” He paused, giving her a full ten seconds to consider his words, before saying, “Can you agree to those terms?”
“Actually, yes, I can agree to those terms, but there’s a lot more to consider.”
“Right. We haven’t talked about finances yet, have we?” Logan said gruffly. “Naturally, I will provide whatever support is required, during our marriage and after. If that’s a concern.”
Wait. What? Now they were talking about money? God, how could he think so lightning fast? Her brain hurt from trying to process each bit of information as he threw it her way.
“It isn’t a concern,” she said. “I have family here, Logan. Support and love. Stability. With or without your involvement. So while I appreciate your offer, it’s important that you know I didn’t come here looking for money. I have a job.”
He arched an eyebrow. “At the Beanery?”
“Yes.” She waited for him to ask how much she earned and if it was enough to raise a child on. He didn’t, but then...he didn’t need to. Still, she felt the push to explain. “My aunt owns the coffeehouse, and it’s only a short-term position. Until I can find something else.”
Sooner or later, one of the city’s restaurants or the ski resort would have an opening for a pastry chef. Or a baker. Or...heck, almost anything related to the culinary world—in or out of the kitchen—that would make better use of her education and experience and offer better pay.
“That’s all well and good, Anna, but whether or not you’re employed doesn’t alter my financial obligation. Nor my want to do what is right.”
“I get that,” she said. “But I’ll only accept what is fair. This isn’t about money. It’s about my want for this child to have two involved parents who give a damn. So if this is...well...”
“Is that a yes to my proposal?”
“It’s a maybe,” she said. “But...a strong maybe, I guess. Why is this so important to you? Most men