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“Obviously I’m not able to give you that, and I won’t sit back and see you grow bitter with disappointment.”
Oh, I’m starting to see the forest he’s wandered into. Men’s logic sometimes confounds me. I push back with my hands against his chest until he lifts his chin, then I reach up and grab both his ears. His eyes widen slightly.
“Listen here, Mr. Beast of New York. I love you. Full stop. With or without kids. I’d take you and nobody but you for the rest of my life, and I thought I made that clear.”
Nick opens his mouth to speak, but I make that face at him with a warning grimace. “No buts. And I can tell you’re eating yourself up inside because you don’t want to send me away. You’re just being noble. And stupid.”
I sense his resistance wavering, so I take a wild but calculated stab in the dark. “And I think I know more about DNA results than you do and maybe, just maybe, you didn’t completely understand what was in that report.”
That sets him back. “What do you mean?” he asks slowly.
“Did you notice that all the manipulated bits were in the mitochondria?”
“Err.” He looks sheepish, so I’ll take that as he didn’t.
“Mitochondrial DNA can only be inherited from the mother, Nick. Our kids, if we have them, get mine and only mine, God help them.”
I can feel his body instantly tense against me. He reaches out a long arm and pulls open a drawer. No big surprise, he’d already stashed a copy of the report nearby. “Show me.”
Pointing out the relevant bits, it’s obvious he’s afraid to believe me. So I pull up some basic but solid websites that explain it and then go over the report again with him.
Then he slides me up his body until I’m being kissed within an inch of my life. “My brainy little mouse,” he boasts with pride.
I blink at him and the sudden shift in his mood. “Feel better?”
He gives me his usual condescending look, but I’m so glad to have him close to normal, I beam right back at him. Dark eyes smile down at me, warming my chilled skin. “You have five minutes to come to your senses. If you’re still here at quarter to, I’m keeping you forever and not letting you go, no matter what anybody says.” His arms tighten around me, giving me the impression that I’d have to make an effort to get away, like I’d want to. But there’s a desperate tinge in his voice that he’s doing a damn good job of hiding that tells me he’s afraid to hope.
Nick’s face stays serious, so instead of arguing, I simply wrap my arms around his waist and hang on tight. But I do turn my head a little so I can anxiously watch the tiny clock on his computer. When it ticks over to the quarter hour, I let out a happy sigh of relief. “Does this mean I don’t have to wait out the rest of the six weeks?” I inquire plaintively.
He considers that for a brief moment. “Compound interest has its place, but not with you. Not now. Sometimes it’s more important to work directly with the capital.”
I give him the same look he gave me when I was explaining the DNA.
He sighs again and pats my bare ass with fondness. “Don’t worry about it. But I do have a plan to make this… important, for lack of a better word. Did you leave any of your clothes behind at the other apartment?”
I scrunch up my face at the question. “Just the few Sunday dinner outfits. I didn’t think they’d be needed in Kansas.”
“Perfect. Go put on something temporary while I order dinner to be delivered.”
I’m so confused. “Temporary? What does that mean?”
“It means my inquisitive little mouse, something that won’t get either of us arrested during the drive over there. Now scoot.”
Since I’m making no moves to detach myself, he does it for me, setting me gently on my feet before standing up. He makes shooing motions with his hands so reluctantly I turn around. I guess I should shower? So confused.
Showering gets the grunge off and wakes my brain up again. At least a little. Nick was talking about my apartment and my conservative Sunday dinner dresses. And dinner and driving. It’s not Sunday, so falling back into the old routine is out, thank God. I shrug and get dressed in some simple no-name jeans and a t-shirt. When I emerge from Nick’s amazing closet, he’s sitting on the bed waiting. His eyes sweep over me, and a small smirk teases his lips. “Ready?”
“I could answer that better if I knew what you had planned,” I point out with a pout.
“You’ll enjoy it, I promise.” He smiles, a genuine smile not hiding anything behind it, and I stare. I didn’t know that was ever going to be possible. I rush over to him and hug his head.
Nick’s arms come up around me and his words are mostly muffled by my breasts when he speaks, “Mouse? Everything okay?”
I pull back with a teary laugh so he can breathe. “Yeah, I’ve just never seen you smile like that. It’s nice. So if whatever you have planned can make that happen, then I guess I’m ready.”
“Come on, then.” Nick stands and tugs me out of the bedroom.
Before long, we’re driving through the city in his sleek black car. Not the one he rented in Kansas, this is his custom-built something or other. I guess he knows the designer and got the sports car engine in a body that he can fit in without folding like a pretzel. Whatever it is, it suits him and I ride in silence, watching him and his hands, while wondering what plan he cooked up in less than five minutes.
