Susan Mallery Fool's Gold Series Volume One: Chasing Perfect\Almost Perfect\Sister of the Bride\Finding Perfect (92 page)

“If you're looking for local color,” Pia said in her most helpful voice, “there's Morgan's Books. He's been around for years. When I was little, he always made sure the next Nancy Drew book was in stock for me.”

Raoul pulled a business card out of his shirt pocket. “If any of you want to contact me about an interview, I'm available.”

“Great,” the youngest reporter said. “I'll call you. We can do a feature. Life after football, that sort of thing.”

“Sure.”

The three men drifted away. Pia watched anxiously, then had to hold in a cheer as the bright lights were extinguished and the cameras turned off.

She spun toward Raoul and grinned. “You did it. You saved the town.”

He guided her away from the crowd. “Don't get too excited. They've been fooled, but it won't last long. This problem isn't going away.”

She didn't want to think about that. “How'd you know to come here?”

“The mayor called and asked me to help. She's worried about the kind of men who will show up based on a news story.”

Pia grinned. “She begged, didn't she?”

He shrugged. “It was uncomfortable. Besides, I'm not looking for bad press, either. This is my home, too.” He glanced at the milling reporters. “We've bought ourselves some time. But if there really are busloads of men heading in this direction, the reporters will be back.”

Not exactly a happy thought. “I guess we'd all better figure out what we're going to say when they return. Not to mention the logistics of herds of single men. What are we going to do with them? Do you think they're here to settle down or just hoping to get lucky?”

His gaze met hers. “That was rhetorical, right? You weren't actually looking for an answer.”

She laughed. “You've saved us for the moment and that's enough. But if you get any brilliant ideas…”

“You'll be the first to know.”

They stared at each other. He really
was
good-looking, she thought. Talk about an excellent gene pool. And those hands. They seemed…large.

Dr. Galloway's teasing words filled her brain. On a practical level, Pia knew that once she had Crystal's babies, her dating days were long over. Not that she'd been going out all that much before, but still. There
had always been the promise of a great guy. Instead she would be the single mother of triplets.

“What?” Raoul asked. “You're thinking something.”

It would be asking too much. On some level, it was probably wrong. Still, he was tempting.

“Would you like to come over for dinner?” she asked before she could stop herself. “So we can talk about the pregnancy some more? I saw my doctor today and she gave me a lot of good information.”

“Sure. Want me to bring something?”

“Wine would be nice. If I'm going to get pregnant, then there won't be any in my future for nine long months.”

They settled on a time and she gave him her address. As he walked off, she stared after him. Between now and dinner, she had several hours to decide if she really was going to ask Raoul for one last fling before she started down the pregnancy road.

The thought of being with him made her feel all squishy inside. Based on what she knew about his past, he had plenty of practice when it came to the wild thing. It would probably be the night of a lifetime. Which was about how long the memories would have to last her.

* * *

P
IA HAD NEVER BEEN MUCH
of a cook. Yet another skill she would need to be a successful mother, she thought as she climbed the two flights of stairs to her apartment. She'd bought a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store, along with a couple of different salads. She would steam broccoli and serve berries over ice cream for dessert. Assuming they got that far in the meal.

The more she thought about asking Raoul for a
single night of wildness, the more she liked the idea. Of course that same thought was accompanied by stomach-clenching panic, but that was a problem for another time.

She put the groceries in the refrigerator, showered quickly, then smoothed on jasmine-scented lotion. She kept her makeup light, then chose a simple green dress that buttoned up the front. The scooped neck wasn't so low as to be obvious, but it hinted at curves.

She'd changed her sheets the previous day, so that was good. She checked the box of condoms she kept around, mostly because she felt she should rather than because of actual need. There were still three inside, and according to the box she had a whole month until they expired. Lucky her.

Now it was just a matter of waiting until Raoul showed up then deciding if she should proposition him. The downside was if he said no, it would be awkward between them and she could kiss the whole pregnancy-buddy offer goodbye. Not that she was counting on it, really.

She had no idea what he thought of her. He probably liked her, but liking and wanting were two very different things. The last thing she wanted was mercy sex. Being pitiful was about the worst outcome possible.

There was also his past to consider. All those groupies throwing themselves at him. They'd probably been a lot more perfect than she could ever hope to be. On her best day, she was pretty, but most of the time she was firmly average.

She spent the next ten minutes making herself crazy by deciding she wasn't going to ask, then changing her mind. The back-and-forth reasoning was making her
dizzy, and she was grateful when she heard a firm knock on the door.

She pulled it open. “Right on time.”

That was as much as she got out. Raoul stepped into her small apartment and seemed to fill the space. He was tall and broad and suddenly there wasn't enough air in the room.

“Hi,” he said, handing her a bottle of white wine, then leaning in and kissing her cheek. “You look great.”

There were probably words she was supposed to say, but speaking was impossible.

He'd changed for their evening. Maybe even showered. His knit shirt was casually tucked into khakis, but the fabric seemed to cling to every muscle. He smelled clean and sexy and looked so tempting he was probably flirting with breaking the law. Her mouth watered.

“Thank you,” she managed. She thrust the wine back at him. “You want to open this?”

“Sure.”

He glanced around, found the kitchen and made his way there. She followed, then fished the wine opener out of a drawer and handed it to him. She collected glasses and set them on the counter.

“I saw my doctor today,” she said. “We talked about the next steps and I got my physical.”

He turned to face her. “What did she say?”

“That there's no reason why I can't deliver Crystal's babies to term. Apparently getting them implanted isn't too bad.”

Saying the words made it all seem a little too real, she thought, feeling a bit light-headed. “Two weeks later, I take a pregnancy test.”

His dark gaze never wavered. “You'd have all three done at the same time?”

“She thinks that would be best. Apparently there's a chance some of them might not survive the thawing process. But even if they all do, three is considered okay.”

He handed her a glass of wine. “You ready for this?”

“No, but it's not like I'm suddenly going to get ready. I think plunging ahead is the best plan. I don't want to talk myself out of this.”

“You don't have to do it. You don't have to have Crystal's babies.”

She clutched her wine in both hands. “Yeah, I do. It's what she wanted and she's my friend. I would have done anything to save her. Bone marrow, a kidney, whatever. None of that would have helped, so I'm going to have her children and raise them as my own.”

Emotions moved through his eyes, but she couldn't tell what he was thinking. “You're a helluva woman, Pia O'Brian.”

“Not really, but thanks for thinking I am.”

She led the way into the living room. She curled up in one corner of the sofa, and Raoul sat at the opposite end. He faced her.

“Nervous?” he asked.

She was, but not for the reasons he thought. “Yes, but I'm dealing.”

He looked around at her bright apartment. “How many bedrooms do you have here?”

She blinked at him. “One.” Reality hit her. “I'm going to have to move, aren't I? I'll need more bedrooms.” She thought of the two flights of stairs she went up and
down several times a day. There was no way she could deal with them and a stroller…or three.

He reached his arm across the back of the red sofa and patted her shoulder, then left his fingers lightly resting against her. “You don't have to move today. Don't worry about it. When the time comes, I'll help.”

“I've lived here six years,” she murmured, aware of the heat of his touch. “I don't want to move.”

What other changes would there be? How many things hadn't she thought of?

“Can we please change the subject?” she asked. “I'm starting to freak.”

“Don't freak. You're not even pregnant yet.”

“Yet” being the key word.

She forced herself to breathe slowly, then she took a sip of her wine. “I can do this,” she said, more to herself than him. “I'm strong. The town will help.”

“Don't forget me,” he added. “Your pregnancy buddy.”

She still thought there was something odd about that, but why spoil his fun?

“Have you been a pregnancy buddy before?”

His expression tightened, then he relaxed. “No, but my girlfriend in high school thought she was pregnant.”

“What did you do?”

“Offered to marry her.”

“Of course you did.”

“What does that mean?”

“It's the nice-guy thing.” She sighed. “I'm sure everyone adored you in high school.”

“I wouldn't say adored.”

“Sure they did.” She sipped her wine. “I was a cheerleader.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Still have the uniform?”

She laughed. “Yes, but that's not the point. A lot of people don't like cheerleaders. It's the whole popular-girl thing.”

“Were you popular?”

“Sort of.” At least until her life had crashed in around her. “I wasn't exactly humble and caring,” she admitted. “The phrase ‘mean girl' has been tossed around.”

“You're not mean.”

“I was. I made fun of people, flaunted what I had. I know now it was an uncomfortable combination of immaturity and insecurity, but it's not as if that information will make any of my victims feel better.”

“You had victims?”

“I had people I picked on.” They were having the last laugh now, she thought sadly. Most of them had wonderful lives, while she lived in a one-bedroom apartment and couldn't even get a cat to like her.

“You're pretty hard on yourself,” he said.

“Maybe I deserve it.”

“Maybe everyone gets to screw up every now and then.”

“I'd like it to be that simple.”

“Why does it have to be complicated?” he asked.

An interesting question, she thought, allowing herself to get lost in his eyes.

Raoul was one of the good guys. Around him a girl could let herself feel safe. Not to mention a lot of other things that were a lot more yummy than safe.

A flash of courage swept through her. She set down her wine, braced herself for flat-out rejection and said, “Do you want to have sex?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

R
AOUL FELT LIKE A CARTOON
character. He wanted to shake his head to make sure he was hearing right. Assuming he was, he was pretty sure his eyes were about to bug out.

“Excuse me?” he asked, standing and staring down at her.

Pia sighed. “Do you want to have sex? With me. The doctor mentioned it. Not that it was important for the implantation procedure, because it isn't. Her point was I'm about to be pregnant and then I'll have babies and little kids and it's probably going to be a long time before a guy finds me the least bit desirable, assuming that even ever happens again. So having sex now, sort of a last fling, makes sense.”

She'd said most of that without drawing in a breath. She did so now, then stared at him, her hazel eyes wide and wary. “You don't have to if you don't want to. I have no idea what you think of me. I'm not hideous or anything, but it's not like I have a plaque proving I'm really great in bed. I thought maybe it would fall under the pregnancy-buddy umbrella, but maybe not.”

She tilted her head. “Fall under the umbrella. Is that a mixed metaphor?”

She was asking him if he wanted to have sex with her and then had switched the conversation to grammar?

She stared at him with wide eyes. Hope fluttered there, along with a hint of apprehension. He would guess she was braced for rejection.

Sex with Pia? He definitely found her sexy and attractive, but he'd never planned to go further than looking. There were plenty of reasons
not
to do this—the biggest of which was they would be living in a very small town together. There wasn't much room for awkward.

She bit her lower lip. The vulnerable movement hit him like a fist to the gut. Pia was pretty. The proud set of her shoulders, the faint glow on her cheeks. The way her brown curls tumbled to her shoulders.

He'd always been the kind of guy who tried to look past external appeal to the person inside. The fact that Pia was going to have someone else's children, simply because she'd been asked, made her one of the best people he'd ever known. And he'd really liked the kisses they'd shared.

The idea of sex—no, making love—appealed more and more with every passing second. He knew this was a one-time deal. That after she had the babies, she would have other things on her mind. But something inside him told him a single night with Pia would be a night worth remembering.

He took a step toward her. “I did offer to be your pregnancy buddy,” he said quietly. “To do anything you asked, to take care of
all
your needs.”