Why Not Tonight
Page 9
In retrospect, she had to admit that maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to test her find-a-sperm-donor app on Ronan, only she’d just downloaded it the day before and she was curious about how it worked. There were tons of questions—she’d barely started with Ronan and now she doubted he would be willing to answer any more.
Not that she wanted him to donate sperm. Sure, he was good-looking and smart and gifted and funny—in fact, nearly everything she would want in the father of her child. But he was someone she worked with and kind of knew. Having his baby would be awkward, to say the least. No, if she went the baby daddy sperm donor app route, she was hooking up with a stranger.
She paused on the landing outside her bedroom. Not hooking up, she corrected. Making medical arrangements with. She had no interest in sex with a stranger.
The house was dark and quiet. She could hear rain and wind outside, but with the thick stone walls, the weather seemed to be at a safe distance. She was itching to work—her fingers practically trembled with the need to do something, only she didn’t have any supplies with her. Just her usual stash of origami paper and she’d already left little animals, flowers and shapes all over the house. She wasn’t in the mood for TV, so maybe she should try reading. There was a whole library of books in Ronan’s office. She would creep downstairs, collect one and return to her bedroom to wait for elusive sleep.
She grabbed the waistband of the baggy sweatpants—she’d hung up her dress for the night—and tiptoed down the staircase. When she reached the foyer, she paused to get her bearings in the dark, turned toward what she assumed was the hallway and ran smack into something big, solid and warm.
She screamed and the big, solid, warm thing grabbed her arms.
“It’s me,” Ronan said in the dark. He released her and clicked on a light. “You okay?”
She blinked in the sudden brightness. Ronan had changed his clothes, or pulled on new ones. He wore jeans and a sweatshirt. They were both barefoot, which felt oddly intimate or weird, depending on one’s perspective.
“Did I wake you?” she asked. “I was trying to be quiet. I wanted to get a book.”
“Can’t sleep?”
“I’m a night owl.”
“Me, too.”
He gave her a slow smile. It was one she hadn’t seen before, or if she had, she hadn’t been paying attention. Or maybe it was different because of the time of night. Regardless, the curve of his mouth was unbelievably sexy and totally caught her off guard. She suddenly felt breathless and young and intensely aware of the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
He pointed down the hall. “Go find a book. I’ll make us hot chocolate and maybe that will help you sleep.”
“I, ah, thank you. Hot chocolate would be nice.” She wanted to say something to make that smile return, but honestly, her mind was totally blank, so she headed down the hall, only to stumble when she stepped onto the rug, which was just so typical.
Ten minutes later, book in hand, she walked into the kitchen. Ronan had a small pot on the stove and two mugs on the island. There was a blue oval tin, trimmed in gold, sitting on the counter.
“What did you pick?” he asked as she settled on one of the stools.
She waved a hardcover thriller. “Nazis, missing gold treasure and genetically modified twins. I’m not sure it can get better than that.”
He chuckled. “You have unexpected reading tastes.”
“Given my choice, I would much rather sink into a steamy romance novel, but you don’t seem to have any of those on your bookshelves.”
“My apologies. I’ll order several first thing in the morning.”
“I doubt that, but thank you for offering.” She pointed to the tin. “First, let me say how impressed I am that you have hot chocolate in your house.”
“I don’t have it often, but every now and then you gotta indulge.” He measured out several tablespoons of the dark powder, then handed her the container. “It’s my favorite. It’s German, from a little shop in what was East Berlin.”
She studied the label and tried not to laugh. “And they ship it to you?”
“Not just me. They’ll ship to anyone.”
“Uh-huh. You can’t just get the stuff from the grocery store like everybody else?”
“It’s an indulgence. Why not have what I really want?”
A philosophy she planned to emulate just as soon as she had an extra nickel or so, she promised herself. For now, her indulgences were things like meat and paying her light bill.
He stirred the powder into the milk for nearly a minute, then filled each of the mugs. He pulled one of those whipped cream spray cans from the refrigerator and added a generous dollop to the mugs before handing her one. She inhaled the scent of sweet chocolate and nearly moaned.
“You do know how to treat a girl,” she said before taking a sip.
Not moaning became even harder. The drink was smooth and sweet, without being too sweet. The chocolate flavor indulged her senses, especially her taste buds.
“This is so good it’s dangerous.”
Ronan settled next to her and grinned. “Women and chocolate.”
“It’s a thing. We can’t help it.” She took another drink and sighed. “Oh, man, I could get used to this and I bet it has like a billion calories. Does it?” She held up a hand. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“I’ll send you home with the can.”
“Thanks, but don’t you dare. I’m short and curvy. I told you, weight finds me much more easily than it does my leggy friends. I try not to be bitter, but sometimes I can’t help myself. And don’t say you understand. You’re a guy and you have a job that’s physical. You can eat the entire grocery store and not gain a pound, which annoys me and I don’t want to talk about it.”
He studied her for a second, then smiled again. “I see the late hour doesn’t make you any less feisty.”
Feisty? He thought she was feisty? That was very close to sexy. She told herself not to think about her braless state. She was wearing an incredibly baggy sweatshirt. He would never notice. Still, it was nice to pretend, even for a second. Although after the conversation they’d had at dinner, he would probably be terrified if she made the slightest move. Speaking of which...
“I’m sorry about the app.”
One brow rose. “Putting it on your phone or discussing it?”
“Talking about it. I really was just checking out the questions. There are a lot of them and some are really interesting. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Scare is strong.”
She rolled her eyes. “You were terrified.”
He chuckled. “Your words, not mine.” He lifted his mug. “What do you normally do when you can’t sleep?”
“Work. It’s relaxing and eventually I get tired enough to sleep. I would have done that tonight, but I don’t have anything with me except a few sheets of origami paper.”
“Do you ever paint?”
“Sometimes. I’m not very good at it. I used to paint all the time. One day I finished a watercolor and realized it was awful. I got so frustrated I tore it up. When the pieces settled on my desk, they’d created something really beautiful and that was the beginning.”
“From failure, success.”
She smiled. “Exactly. I enjoy the unexpected and I’ve been working with mixed media ever since.”
Not that she wanted him to donate sperm. Sure, he was good-looking and smart and gifted and funny—in fact, nearly everything she would want in the father of her child. But he was someone she worked with and kind of knew. Having his baby would be awkward, to say the least. No, if she went the baby daddy sperm donor app route, she was hooking up with a stranger.
She paused on the landing outside her bedroom. Not hooking up, she corrected. Making medical arrangements with. She had no interest in sex with a stranger.
The house was dark and quiet. She could hear rain and wind outside, but with the thick stone walls, the weather seemed to be at a safe distance. She was itching to work—her fingers practically trembled with the need to do something, only she didn’t have any supplies with her. Just her usual stash of origami paper and she’d already left little animals, flowers and shapes all over the house. She wasn’t in the mood for TV, so maybe she should try reading. There was a whole library of books in Ronan’s office. She would creep downstairs, collect one and return to her bedroom to wait for elusive sleep.
She grabbed the waistband of the baggy sweatpants—she’d hung up her dress for the night—and tiptoed down the staircase. When she reached the foyer, she paused to get her bearings in the dark, turned toward what she assumed was the hallway and ran smack into something big, solid and warm.
She screamed and the big, solid, warm thing grabbed her arms.
“It’s me,” Ronan said in the dark. He released her and clicked on a light. “You okay?”
She blinked in the sudden brightness. Ronan had changed his clothes, or pulled on new ones. He wore jeans and a sweatshirt. They were both barefoot, which felt oddly intimate or weird, depending on one’s perspective.
“Did I wake you?” she asked. “I was trying to be quiet. I wanted to get a book.”
“Can’t sleep?”
“I’m a night owl.”
“Me, too.”
He gave her a slow smile. It was one she hadn’t seen before, or if she had, she hadn’t been paying attention. Or maybe it was different because of the time of night. Regardless, the curve of his mouth was unbelievably sexy and totally caught her off guard. She suddenly felt breathless and young and intensely aware of the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.
He pointed down the hall. “Go find a book. I’ll make us hot chocolate and maybe that will help you sleep.”
“I, ah, thank you. Hot chocolate would be nice.” She wanted to say something to make that smile return, but honestly, her mind was totally blank, so she headed down the hall, only to stumble when she stepped onto the rug, which was just so typical.
Ten minutes later, book in hand, she walked into the kitchen. Ronan had a small pot on the stove and two mugs on the island. There was a blue oval tin, trimmed in gold, sitting on the counter.
“What did you pick?” he asked as she settled on one of the stools.
She waved a hardcover thriller. “Nazis, missing gold treasure and genetically modified twins. I’m not sure it can get better than that.”
He chuckled. “You have unexpected reading tastes.”
“Given my choice, I would much rather sink into a steamy romance novel, but you don’t seem to have any of those on your bookshelves.”
“My apologies. I’ll order several first thing in the morning.”
“I doubt that, but thank you for offering.” She pointed to the tin. “First, let me say how impressed I am that you have hot chocolate in your house.”
“I don’t have it often, but every now and then you gotta indulge.” He measured out several tablespoons of the dark powder, then handed her the container. “It’s my favorite. It’s German, from a little shop in what was East Berlin.”
She studied the label and tried not to laugh. “And they ship it to you?”
“Not just me. They’ll ship to anyone.”
“Uh-huh. You can’t just get the stuff from the grocery store like everybody else?”
“It’s an indulgence. Why not have what I really want?”
A philosophy she planned to emulate just as soon as she had an extra nickel or so, she promised herself. For now, her indulgences were things like meat and paying her light bill.
He stirred the powder into the milk for nearly a minute, then filled each of the mugs. He pulled one of those whipped cream spray cans from the refrigerator and added a generous dollop to the mugs before handing her one. She inhaled the scent of sweet chocolate and nearly moaned.
“You do know how to treat a girl,” she said before taking a sip.
Not moaning became even harder. The drink was smooth and sweet, without being too sweet. The chocolate flavor indulged her senses, especially her taste buds.
“This is so good it’s dangerous.”
Ronan settled next to her and grinned. “Women and chocolate.”
“It’s a thing. We can’t help it.” She took another drink and sighed. “Oh, man, I could get used to this and I bet it has like a billion calories. Does it?” She held up a hand. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“I’ll send you home with the can.”
“Thanks, but don’t you dare. I’m short and curvy. I told you, weight finds me much more easily than it does my leggy friends. I try not to be bitter, but sometimes I can’t help myself. And don’t say you understand. You’re a guy and you have a job that’s physical. You can eat the entire grocery store and not gain a pound, which annoys me and I don’t want to talk about it.”
He studied her for a second, then smiled again. “I see the late hour doesn’t make you any less feisty.”
Feisty? He thought she was feisty? That was very close to sexy. She told herself not to think about her braless state. She was wearing an incredibly baggy sweatshirt. He would never notice. Still, it was nice to pretend, even for a second. Although after the conversation they’d had at dinner, he would probably be terrified if she made the slightest move. Speaking of which...
“I’m sorry about the app.”
One brow rose. “Putting it on your phone or discussing it?”
“Talking about it. I really was just checking out the questions. There are a lot of them and some are really interesting. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Scare is strong.”
She rolled her eyes. “You were terrified.”
He chuckled. “Your words, not mine.” He lifted his mug. “What do you normally do when you can’t sleep?”
“Work. It’s relaxing and eventually I get tired enough to sleep. I would have done that tonight, but I don’t have anything with me except a few sheets of origami paper.”
“Do you ever paint?”
“Sometimes. I’m not very good at it. I used to paint all the time. One day I finished a watercolor and realized it was awful. I got so frustrated I tore it up. When the pieces settled on my desk, they’d created something really beautiful and that was the beginning.”
“From failure, success.”
She smiled. “Exactly. I enjoy the unexpected and I’ve been working with mixed media ever since.”
