Baby by Design: Designing Love Book One (Crimson Romance) by Elley Arden

behind her.
    “You didn’t have to walk me to the door,” she said, spinning around to face him.
    He grinned. “Yes, I did. A Corcarelli man is taught never to shirk his duties. Escorting a woman to the safety of her front door is one of them. Besides, I promised your father I would get you home safely.”
    She nodded. “Honorable.” And then she dropped her head and her attention to the bottom of her purse, because her thoughts were anything but. The minute he’d mentioned his struggles with Nonna’s wish list, and Nonna’s desire for him to marry and have kids, Trish’s brain started concocting a plan.
    “In this instance, yes. I’m being honorable.”
    “In every instance I’ve ever witnessed you in,” she chattered as she pushed aside a tube of lipstick and a travel pack of tissues. She wasn’t even sure what she was chattering about. She only hoped the conversation would keep things cordial without him asking something stupid like could he come in, because she’d say yes, and then she’d end up propositioning him—and not in the usual way. Nope, there was nothing usual about asking a man to father her child—so he could make his grandmother’s wish come true, while he made Trish’s wish come true, too.
    “You haven’t witnessed me in many places outside work. That’s where I run into trouble.”
    “It’s all in good fun, I’m sure.” She wrapped her hand around the silver key and yanked it from her purse. In her overzealousness, the key clanged to the porch floorboards.
    Tony sunk on a bend of his knees and gathered what she’d dropped. When he stood, he leaned past her and slid the key into the deadbolt lock. With a flick of his wrist, the door fanned open.
    “There,” he said, lifting her right hand palm up where he could deposit the key. He cradled her hand while his fingertips pressed into her palm around the cool metal.
    “Thank you,” she stammered.
    “Don’t mention it.”
    There was something else she shouldn’t mention, something that bit at the tip of her tongue. As she fought with the words, she stared up at his handsome face, noticing how his dark eyes and brows reminded her of Angie’s, but how his wider nose twisted the familial resemblance into a unique, masculine edge.
    “Do you want to come in?” Somehow Trish managed not to cringe. Apparently a wandering mind led to loose lips.
    Tony opened his mouth, and his shoulders rose and fell. “I want to do a lot of things I shouldn’t. That tends to be what gets me labeled as the black sheep of my family.”
    He was still holding her hand, but the pressure of his fingertips had lightened until the tickle to her palm caused by the vague movement of a simple breath had her hanging on his answer. “Is that a yes or a no?”
    With a grin, he closed her fingers around the key and dropped her hand. “I think I better get the car back to Vin.”
    Disappointment throttled the hope his grin had created. “Okay.”
    His brows furrowed, and she wondered if the disappointment showed on her face.
    “You wouldn’t want to come with me, would you?” he asked, his brows still knotted above his nose, like he wasn’t at all certain he should be asking the question in the first place.
    Trish made a quick mental list of her options, which included heading to bed—alone—or prolonging her evening with Tony. “Yes,” she said.
    “It would involve riding my bike home.”
    She looked down at her dress. “I’m not sure I can ride in this.”
    “I saw you dance in that, remember.” He winked. “If you can grind, you can ride.”
    Before she could do something about the recklessness taking over her normally practical mind, Tony reached out to close her front door. He took the key from her hand, locked the house, and then pulled her off the front porch.
    “Don’t tell Angie,” he said. His quick smile gave Trish the feeling he was only partly joking.
    “I won’t.” She slid back onto the passenger seat and let him close the