"I’m not giving up Diet Coke." Her fingers tightened around the glass. "I’ve given up coffee, deli meat, sushi, sleeping on my back, taking an aspirin when I have a headache. I’ve given up all pretensions of modesty, I’ve given up my shop, and I’ve given up wine and all other forms of alcohol. I am not giving up my Diet Coke when there’s no proof whatsoever that it’s harmful."
Me-ow. Geez, here was the irritable thing, apparently. Damien reached for a compromise. "So, just drink regular Coke, then. It doesn’t have aspartame."
"It only has about five thousand calories that I do not need since my bum is spreading even as we speak."
"Your butt is not spreading." The very thought made him smirk. The look on her face caused him to straighten up and slap a sober expression in place of the grin.
She didn’t appear placated.
"Instead of talking about my backside, what is it you wanted to say?" Mandy looked around the restaurant, which was a sterile and cool Pan-Asian place. "And when is the food going to get here? I’m absolutely starving."
She was being snarky, she knew it. But she was hungry and tired. Staying up all night having sex had sapped her energy. It was one more thing to stress over. She was having a little trouble picturing herself waking every two hours to feed an infant.
Plus she was worried about Damien. He loved her. She believed that he did, sincerely. But he wasn’t discussing the future with her, and while she couldn’t blame him, since they were just getting started on their relationship, she felt a sense of urgency. This wasn’t the same for her as it was for him.
He probably needed to take things slowly, cautiously. After all, his wife had been killed, violently. Mandy was the first woman he had made love to in all that time, the first woman he had expressed feelings for.
But while he needed to adjust, she felt the need to know her future now. She had enough concerns and fears and life changes, she just didn’t think she could wait around and see how all this was going to turn out.
She wanted a commitment or she didn’t want anything at all. Her heart, her willpower, wasn’t strong enough to continue on dating him indefinitely, waiting for him to figure out what he might want. Regardless of how she felt, her child was her number one concern.
Her daughter.
The very thought of her baby made her flush with happiness.
"We can order an appetizer. I’ll flag the waitress down and see how long it’s going to be."
He was trying, she’d give him that. She was being peevish, and he was just concerned about her.
"I can wait a few more minutes."
"Ben stopped by the apartment this morning while you were sleeping," he said, before she’d even completely finished her sentence.
"What?" That startled her stomach off thoughts of food. "What did he want?"
"He never did say what he came by for originally once he realized that you and I… that we…" Damien cleared his throat.
"Oh, God! You let him know we’re sleeping together?" She could only imagine what Ben must have thought. That she was a slut was the first thought that came to mind.
"Well, it was kind of obvious."
She had no problem picturing it. Damien in his underwear, looking sexy and rumpled and giving Ben that cool, I’m in charge stare that he had perfected. "And instead of waking me, you told him to stop back later?"
"Well…" Damien’s fingers drummed on the table. He had trouble sitting still, the way he always did. A part of his body was always moving. He didn’t look as though he’d been up all night expending energy instead of conserving it in sleep. "Maybe you should talk to Ben about what he said."
Oh, that sounded promising. And distracting. And infuriating. Given that she’d come to realize she didn’t know Ben at all or what he might say, she couldn’t even begin to imagine what he had said to Damien. And she wanted to know. "You can just tell me. I promise I won’t kill the messenger."
"He said he was relieved that you were seeing someone."
No, she couldn’t have predicted that. "Oh, really? And why is that, I wonder?"
Damien’s blue eyes were unreadable. "Because he said he’s not really all that interested in being a father the third time over, but he was reluctant to leave you on your own. He felt if I was serious about you – which I am – that he could bow out of the situation and leave you in, ah, good hands."
Mandy felt as if she’d been dealt a good swift kick to the shins. "Oh, did he now?" Her voice wavered and she blinked hard to dispense tears that had risen without warning. Damn, why should it matter? But it hurt. It bloody well hurt to hear Ben talk so callously about her. As if she was a baton to pass off from one runner to another. Here you go, thanks, chum, your turn now.
Damien reached for her hands. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you all this here. I just wanted to tell you he’d stopped by so you could call him."
"You’re not the one who needs to apologize." Damn, was she really such a poor judge of character that she’d never seen that kind of weakness in Ben? And what did that say about her feelings for Damien? What was she misinterpreting or choosing not to see there?
Knowing she was about to cry for real and embarrass the hell out of herself, she stood up. Damien got to his feet, too, startled.
"I’m just going to the rest room. I need a second. I’ll be right back." She bent over and grabbed her purse. "And if my miso chicken isn’t here when I get back, I’m storming that kitchen for it myself."
Then she bolted before he could stop her.
Damien stared after Mandy, her skirt twitching around her legs as she walked quickly toward the rest rooms.
He had messed that up. He hadn’t meant it to sound so cold, but then, Ben’s words had been cold. Maybe there was no way around that. He was certain that she didn’t have feelings for Ben the Bastard any longer, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t still hurt.
He rearranged his silverware for the third time, took a sip of his Coke. Stared at her Diet. Then switched them. She didn’t need to worry about ass spreading.
But he wasn’t sure what his role was in relation to her ass spreading or anything else for that matter. Did he have the right to be involved in her pregnancy?
Did he have the right to be the baby’s father?
Father. The word alone had him choking on his ice cube.