He glances down at them, and then at me. “This is an agreement with shared custody?”
“You’d have them every other week. Or is that too much?” I also have a contract with a one week per month option in my car, in case he realizes the magnitude of what he’s getting himself into.
“It’s not too much.” His mouth firms. “I’ll make it work.”
“Seth.” I lay a hand on his upper arm, guilt churning in my stomach that I’ve put him in a position where he feels like he has to change his life just because I want him to father my baby. “We don’t have to do this. I hadn’t really thought through how much it would impact you.” I’d thought about custody, sure, but not how he’d have to reconfigure everything to make it work. I’d been too busy imagining gurgling babies with his beautiful eyes.
“If we didn’t, you’d go ahead and do it yourself.” He watches me steadily. “I know you, Ash. I want to do this.”
His intensity makes me shiver. “Okay, then.” I reach for my purse to get the appointment details I wrote down, and hand over the notepaper. “Here. This is where you need to be, and when.”
He tucks it into his pocket, and tilts his head toward the inside of the condo. “Want to come in?”
I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. But I’m curious what his home looks like. “Sure, thanks.”
Damn it, Ashlin.
He stands aside, and I brush past into his living room. It’s largely empty. A sofa, armchair, coffee table, and television. A kitchen adjoins it, separated by a counter. Everything is weirdly tidy, as though he’s in the process of moving in and hasn’t taken his things out of storage yet.
“Nice place,” I remark, to clear the tension in the air.
He grunts. “It does the job.”
Yep, that tension isn’t going anywhere. I turn to face him, and force a smile. “Was there anything in particular you wanted to talk about?”
He shakes his head and closes the door behind me. The click of the latch is magnified a thousand times in my head. I could swear it echoes around the room, reminding me that I’m in a private space with the only man to ever set me alight with lust.
“Shall I just sit here while you have a look over it, then?”
His brow furrows, and he strides to the sofa in about half as many steps as it would take me. Sinking onto it, he pats the cushion beside him. “Go through it with me.”
It’s not a question, so I join him, perching with one thigh crossed over the other and my hands clasped in my lap, a safe two inches of space between us. He leans closer, obliterating the gap. His freshly showered man scent washes over me as he moves, and I barely resist the urge to close my eyes and sniff him. He’s not making this easy. The situation mirrors the past too closely. Us, side by side, as I walk him through the paperwork he always loathed to read. We go through the contract and I pause to explain the parts I think he’ll actually care about.
When I finish, he nods. “Give me a pen. I’ll sign.”
My heart skips. “You should get Tyrell to review it first.”
He shrugs. “You gonna pull the wool over my eyes, Ash? Take me for all I’m worth? We already went through a divorce and it was all I could do to make sure you left with enough money to get your life back together. I know you well enough to know you’re not going to screw me.” His words linger in the air between us, and his gaze darkens. “Over,” he adds, looking uncomfortable. “Screw meover.”
My lips twitch. I knew what he meant, but I’m tempted to clarify that there will be no screwing of any kind. I don’t though, because some doors are best left unopened. “I want you to be fully informed.”
He sighs, and runs a hand over the short ends of his hair. “Fine, I’ll run it by Ty. He’ll want a copy, anyway.”
“Of course he will. It’s his job to look out for you.”
He rolls his eyes. “Funny. He seems to think his job is sticking his nose into my business.”
This time, I can’t hide my smile. He sees it, and one side of his mouth lifts. “He’s being a friend.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He shuffles the papers into a neat pile and sets them on the floor. “So, once that’s sorted out and the doctor has okayed my spunk, what next?”
Scooting back, I put space between us now that we’re not both trying to read the contract. “I’ll book an appointment to begin a course of fertility treatment.”
A groove forms on his forehead, and he watches me in a way that could be unnerving if I weren’t used to it. He’s always studied me like a predator does its prey.
“I want to be there.”
I nod. “Okay.”
