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“It helps me not be sick, but doesn’t take away the nausea altogether.”

      She’d lost weight, he noticed again. Her high cheekbones stood out more than they had, creating a hollow beneath. There were dark shadows under her eyes, too. She was indeed having a rough time of it.

      “The doctor says only about a month more...” she said, her voice weak. “Then we should start to see some improvement.”

      As much of a jerk as it made him, he was about to use that little fact to his advantage. The idea that had teased him earlier now fell firmly into place.

      As he looked into her cautious gaze, Paxton kept his expression serious. It would be all too easy to slip into charming-businessman mode, like he had with Auntie. That realm he could navigate easily. But Ivy would feel like she was being played.

      He needed her on board. Not on edge.

      “Ivy, I want to come stay with you.”

      The shock that widened her eyes reverberated inside of Paxton. He couldn’t believe he was saying it out loud. But this made the most sense to him...and he hadn’t been able to come up with a better option to get the amount of information he needed.

      Thankfully she didn’t mock his motives, or rage about the time they’d spent apart. Instead she seemed almost sad as she whispered, “Why?”

      “We’re having a baby together.”

      “Not really,” she countered. “I mean, we have created a child together. But we aren’t really together, are we?”

      She had a point. Paxton stood, the need to clarify his thoughts pushing him to pace. “No,” he said. As uncomfortable as it might be, they needed to get this point out in the open. “For now, we aren’t together.” He pivoted to face her. “But we will always be tied to one another. And right now, I’d say I know as little about you outside of work as you know about me.”

      She was already shaking her head. “I just can’t deal with this right now, Paxton. Maybe later—”

      “That’s just it. I’ve had a lot of experience with pregnant women. You know that.” After all, she’d watched him go to appointment after appointment with his sister last year, when her husband was away on business. “Auntie says Jasmine wants her to go on a trip with them. Let me take care of you. It will be easier on you, and on—”

      “How’s it going in here?” Auntie asked as she came back through the door with a tea tray. She set it on a little table near the couch. “Here’s some ginger tea, sweetheart. Sip this slowly.”

      She handed a delicate teacup to Ivy, who raised it to her lips for a little sip before saying, “Thank you, Auntie.”

      The older woman limped over to a recliner, then lowered herself into it gingerly. Ivy frowned as she watched, the questions obvious on her face.

      “Actually, Auntie,” Paxton said, taking a chance despite the growing horror in Ivy’s expression, “I’m trying to convince Ivy to let me stay here for a while. Let me take care of her. Take the burden off you so you can go on the trip with Jasmine.”

      Auntie glanced at Ivy with an almost-amused expression that he didn’t understand. “Now, young man, don’t you use me to put pressure on this young lady. She’s carrying enough guilt as it is.”

      “I didn’t mean to—”

      “Then you don’t know women as well as you think you do,” she said with a smile. “Most women feel guilty for something or other. Ivy has had to take a step back lately, let other people do the work while her body handles the process of creation. That’s not what she’s used to...but I do think you have a point.”

      “You do?” Paxton hadn’t thought she’d come onboard without some persuasion.

      “This isn’t really about me,” Auntie chided him with a soft smile. “It’s about you and Ivy. And you can’t figure out anything about you and Ivy without working it out together.” She transferred her smile to the woman looking pale and panicked on the couch. “It’s hard to do that with distance...and a chaperone.”

      A stubborn expression took up residence on Ivy’s face. “So you want to let someone you don’t know live here while you’re gone?”

      “But you know me, don’t you, Ivy?” Paxton prompted.

      “So why did you accuse me of getting pregnant on purpose? Obviously you don’t know me.”

      Paxton gave in to the renewed desire to pace. He didn’t want to get into the particulars of his doubts, his accusations. But he wasn’t seeing a way out. Especially not with Auntie’s and Ivy’s gazes trained directly on him. The pressure to explain warred with the desire to be defensive about his mistakes. “It was a long time ago.”

      “Did someone try to trap you into marriage?” Ivy asked, her wide eyes a sign of surprise he didn’t believe.

      Auntie made a soft clucking sound of comfort.

      “No,” Paxton assured her. Veronica hadn’t trapped him into anything. “I have simply been deceived in the past by women who want more than I care to give. While I don’t think that’s what’s happening here, the question had to be asked.”

      Auntie laughed. “Son, if someone is scamming you, I doubt they’re just gonna admit it when you ask directly like that. But I can assure you, my niece is on the up-and-up. Besides, I doubt she was the one who brought the birth control to the party. Right?”

      “Auntie!” Ivy cried, her pale cheeks flushing rose-red.

      Paxton would normally have chuckled, but he was too lost in the memory of grabbing a condom from the bedside table. The box of condoms he’d bought. She was right. Birth control was always something Paxton handled himself. Only this time it had failed him.

      He felt a low throb in his body, as if reminding him it had all been worth it. Too bad his body lied.

      Then Ivy pressed a hand to her stomach and grimaced. As she lifted the teacup back to her lips, Paxton decided to give her some breathing room. Normally, he pressed hard when he wanted something. Pressed until he received the answer he wanted. But now wasn’t the time for that...and he had a feeling Ivy wasn’t a woman who would take it.

      “Look, just think about it. I think it would be good for us.” Even if maintaining his distance would be harder under those circumstances. But he had to remember his life plan. This might be a detour, but he refused to be derailed from his own goals. Or his family’s expectations. “I’ll come by tomorrow.”

      “Why don’t you just call?” Ivy asked.

      Maybe he would press...just a little more. “Because regardless of your decision, you’re stuck with me. Yours is only a choice of location.”

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