Having Nathan's Baby by Fran Louise Read Free Book Online Page A

you!”
    “What do the men do?” he asked. Refusing to be convinced, he settled into a rigid pose. “They have kids, too, I presume-”
    “They have wives at home to take care of everything!” I said, my tone accusing.
    “Well, it ’s not like I’m not going to be around!” he countered hotly. “I have a lot more free time than you-”
    “You live in Los Angeles. I live in New York.” This time the laughter did escape. “I mean, what are we supposed to about that? Fly the baby back and forth by courier?”
    There was a noticeable offbeat of silence before he said, “Maybe the baby could live with me.”
    The words were delivered nonchalantly, but I felt their impact like a knife to the gut. Something inside me roared like an injured animal. A feeling of possession gripped me; if I was having this baby then I wasn’t sending it half way across the continent.
    An icy realization chilled me. Did that mean Nathan wanted the baby, but didn’t want me? Was that his real motive here?
    He pushed off the edge of the car and paced away from me.  One hand snaked up to his neck; he kneaded the muscles, a sigh escaping him. The chaotic colors of autumn looked garish around him. When he turned to me, his mouth was set in a thin line. “You’re not giving me much of a choice here, Chloe,” he said, his voice a rasp. “If you don’t want the baby, then let me raise it.”
    I sounded winded when I spoke, even to my own ears. “I said I didn’t want to give up my career. I didn’t say I didn’t want a baby, specifically.” I tried to make sense of my reasoning, while all the while I was imagining Nathan and this … my child half way across the country. “Even if I have it and you take it ... I’d lose the partnership anyway.” Confused, I turned away from him and walked a few meters through the crackling leaves. “I can’t just give it up.”
    Tears overflowed and streamed down my cheeks. My hands were shaking. I realized this whole situation had just taken another massive step towards becoming very, very real. We weren’t talking about pregnancy anymore. We were talking about a child: our child, which Nathan wanted to raise.
    “You shouldn’t be getting upset, ” he said.
    Cold laughter gripped me again. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what it was like to have these hormones raging through you twenty-four-seven.”
    Behind me now, he touched a hand to my shoulder. It felt large, warm and comforting. “I shouldn’t have brought this up here. I should have waited until we were back at the house,” he said. His hand slid around my neck as he moved to my side. Pulling me into him, he kissed the top of my head. “I’m sorry, Chloe. Do you want to go back?”
    “I’m okay,” I reassured him, feeling desperately hollow inside. Allowing my head to drop sideways on to his chest, I swallowed back another wave of sorry tears. He sighed. Taking my shoulders in his hands, he turned me around to face him. His eyes were concerned on what I could feel was my pinched expression.
    He leaned down to kiss me almost as though it were an automatic gesture, something we’d been doing for years like a married couple. The shock of the intimate sensation awoke in me a savage need for comfort. As his face moved back fractionally, I felt a chasm open in my chest, aching with need. He studied my pained expression for a moment. His hand lingered at the back of my neck, his finger gently stroking the sensitive skin there. Weak with yearning – a yearning that wasn’t sexual, but emotional – I placed a hand on his chest, letting my head fall there, too. I rested my forehead on the cool, soft material, aware of the vital heat of his body underneath.
    This was a mess, I thought helplessly. I wanted him – needed him – and yet every fiber of my being told me that he was the last person I should be leaning on right now. He wanted this baby, but not necessarily with me as part of the package. He was biologically