“There you go. If Pierrot says so?—”
“Piaget.”
“Then maybe we should pay attention to the science. I was on your list for a reason.”
She took a seat on the sofa, or more like sank to it in a daze. My charm was a weapon, that was for sure.
“Because I was determined to take an unbiased view,” she mumbled.
“And look at how quickly you introduced bias, bringing a confounding factor into it that had nothing to do with genetics or science or biology, but a bad memory you had from your childhood.”
She peered up at me with suspicion. “Sometimes it’s hard to take the emotion out of it.”
I sat beside her. “But that’s exactly what you have to do. At least for the baby-making part of it. Keep all the emotion for your kid.”
Her brows drew together. “Why do you want to do this?”
“I’ll be honest, I’m not looking to pump and dump. I want to be in the kid’s life.”
She gasped. “You do?”
This was where I expected to run into problems. It was one thing to make the donation, but what we were talking about was a lifelong commitment. To a kid, but also to each other.
“Sure. Maybe you don’t think I have much to offer, but I’m gainfully employed, have a good support network, and am interested in being a father.”
She stood, placed her hands on her hips, and paced a few steps. “But the reason I’m doing this is because the usual options are closed to me. I can’t imagine it’s the same for you.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“You’re a professional hockey player, which is usually enough to attract any number of women looking to be wifed and knocked up. You’re also conventionally attractive.”
Conventionally attractive. Had this woman just called me sexy?
“All true, but there’s a snag. I don’t want to marry anyone. And if I went into a relationship with a woman and got her pregnant, the marriage aspect would be an expectation. One I don’t want to fulfill.”
She twitched her nose. Damn, that was cute.
No, Isner. There is no cuteness here. This is a business transaction. Nothing more.
“Why don’t you want to get married?”
“Doesn’t interest me.”
“Is it because of your father?”
I wagged a finger. “Don’t bother psychoanalyzing me, Doc. Some guys aren’t cut out for relationships.”
“But you would be available for a relationship with your child?”
“Of course I would! Why the hell do you think I’m offering?”
With my burst of temper, I could feel the tide turning. She was back on top, using her intellect and sharp-eyed insight to cut through my puny arguments like a scythe through dense jungle growth.
“Perhaps you think this is a way to assert your virility. Or get your revenge for all the times I’ve poked fun at a jock’s intelligence.”
“You think I’m that petty? That I’m willing to bring a kid into the world for some childish payback ploy? You must really think the worst?—”
She was smiling.
