Page 88 of Secret Baby for My Brother's Best Friends

Once again, insecurity starts to set in. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to go on a date with me, but he feels obligated to because his friends dragged him into this. Or because I may or may not be carrying his child.

I don't want things to be awkward, neither do I want him to simply be with me because of the baby.

I sigh again and say, "You know you really don’t have to do this.”

“Meaning?’

“Taking me on this date to appease Sam and Jake. Just because they want me, you don’t have to…"

He does something unexpected then. He laughs, loud and long and noisy. His laughter bounces around the entire car, and it’s so throaty and rich that I realize I’ve never heard him laugh before. I’ve barely ever seen him smile. But he has such an addictive laugh, I feel my own smile growing in response.

"What?" I ask. "Did I say something wrong?"

“You think I’m going out with you because of those two knuckleheads?"

“You're not?

"No," he says. "It's the opposite, actually. I'm here despite them."

"What do you mean?"

He spares me a look before he speaks. "Part of the reason I held back in the first place was because of them and not wanting to fight over you. But I've always wanted you. I don't think there's a red-blooded male alive who doesn't want you."

My breath catches. It's an exaggeration, of course. Plenty of men don't want me. But he doesn't make it sound like it.

"I mean, you can want me sexually, but that doesn't mean we have to go on a date."

"I want to go on this date," he says as we come to a stop for a traffic light, and shoots me a look that makes me melt.

"Sorry," he says. "I'm not really used to this, and I didn't realize that I was probably worrying you by not talking."

“It’s okay.”

“No it's not. I want to be here. Not because of the baby and not because of the guys but because I want to.”

“But why?” I whisper I don't get it why these three attractive men want me, why they’re willing to date me together.

He stares at me for some time, then simply shakes his head and looks away. “You have no idea how special you are, do you?”

My heart pounds. I want to ask what he means by that, but at the same time, I’m terrified. I swallow and look away.

When we finally arrive at the restaurant, we walk through the swinging doors at the discreet entryway, accented with limestone walls, tinted glass, and dark metal. The acoustics of the interior mutes sound, giving an intimate feel to the restaurant that just oozes class.

“I wish I’d known earlier we were coming here,” I whisper. “I feel very underdressed.”

Everyone else is wearing designer, or at least something that looks like it.

His eyes run down my body, returning with lingering heat that makes all my apprehension give way to desire.

“What are you talking about?" he says. “You’re the most beautiful person here.”

My heart starts racing even as I tell myself not to take it seriously, and tell myself that he’s just saying that to be nice.

“You haven’t even looked at anyone else here,” I quip.

“Exactly,” he responds, and he doesn’t smile. He doesn’t make light of the moment the way I do. He stares me right in the eyes, not letting me escape from his gaze or hide from the compliment, like he knows I want to.

I blush deeply and clear my throat. “Thank you."