good. I’ve usually been up to no good where Lora’s concerned.”
“Why?”
“It’s a long story. I’m sure you’ll have it out of me in no time, but not tonight.”
He walked into the living room to pick up his towel. “Movie tonight? I’ve got a couple of new releases over at my place.”
“Sounds like just the thing. I’ll make some popcorn?”
“Extra butter.”
Eve pushed herself up from the sofa, dropping the sketchbook and charcoal onto the coffee table to walk him to the door, where he kissed the top of her head, and she patted his cheek before he went bounding down her front step and on across the courtyard. She caught sight of Dominic as he strode up the walk and gave him a wave.
He lifted a fist out of his jacket pocket and flung his fingers out in a similar gesture, both to her and Tad, who had paused.
“What are you doing here?” Eve asked with surprise, stepping aside to allow him into her home. It was that or be steamrolled. She shrugged to Tad, who was still watching from his own doorway, giving him a thumbs-up so he would know she was okay.
“I’ll be right back over,” he called out. “Remember the extra butter!”
“Butter?” Dominic asked as Eve shut the door.
“For popcorn. What do you want anyway?”
“When were you going to tell me you were pregnant?”
“Oh, for—you shouldn’t have come here.”
“When were you going to tell me you were pregnant?” Dominic demanded once more, reaching to grab for her arm.
Eve stepped back away from him, holding up a hand. “Don’t touch me. And don’t come in here demanding things. Fuck all. I told Isabelle not to tell anyone. I forgot to name you specifically.”
“When were you going to tell me?”
“I wasn’t. It’s not your business.”
“Is it mine?”
“It’s mine.”
He lowered his chin and leveled his eyes at her. “Evie…”
“It’s mine,” she repeated. “Beyond that, it doesn’t matter.”
“If I’m the father—”
“You’re not.”
“Are you sure? I have a right—” he began, but she cut him off.
“You don’t have anything of the sort. Not with me. Not ever,” she said sharply. “Besides, do you really want it to be yours? How do you think Isabelle would feel about that?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched, and his nostrils flared slightly. “If I am the father—”
“I said you’re not,” she repeated firmly. “You are not my baby’s father.”
“Who is?” He took a step forward.
“There isn’t one.”
“Then who?”
She backed down at that question and turned away, saying as she walked toward her kitchen, “I don’t know. It’s a short list, but there’s more than one possibility.”
“Am I a possibility?”
“Did you ever wear a condom? There’s your answer.”
He went a little pale and fell silent for a long moment. “So, it could be mine.”
She sighed and rummaged in her pantry for the microwave popcorn, wondering what was taking Tad so long. “Dominic, it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me!”
“Well, it shouldn’t. Even if it were yours, and I’m not sure that it is, you’re off the hook.”
He followed her into the kitchen a moment later. “Eve, if I got you pregnant…I would want to know.”
“Why? Sit down,” she said, indicating the chairs at the dining table. “And by the way, I’m totally not prepared to have this conversation.”
“Me either.”
“Look, you can’t be the father of this baby. You can be the uncle. You can be the aunt’s first husband. You can be that guy I used to go around with. But you cannot be her father. And no matter who got her started, you cannot see it through. You just can’t. There’s no way. You’re marrying Issie, and you’re going to have babies with her. You can be a father to those babies, but not to this one.”
“How short is the list?”
“It’s short. Listen to me, Dominic. Everything between us stops. Stopped. It stopped the moment you proposed—or at least as
“Why?”
“It’s a long story. I’m sure you’ll have it out of me in no time, but not tonight.”
He walked into the living room to pick up his towel. “Movie tonight? I’ve got a couple of new releases over at my place.”
“Sounds like just the thing. I’ll make some popcorn?”
“Extra butter.”
Eve pushed herself up from the sofa, dropping the sketchbook and charcoal onto the coffee table to walk him to the door, where he kissed the top of her head, and she patted his cheek before he went bounding down her front step and on across the courtyard. She caught sight of Dominic as he strode up the walk and gave him a wave.
He lifted a fist out of his jacket pocket and flung his fingers out in a similar gesture, both to her and Tad, who had paused.
“What are you doing here?” Eve asked with surprise, stepping aside to allow him into her home. It was that or be steamrolled. She shrugged to Tad, who was still watching from his own doorway, giving him a thumbs-up so he would know she was okay.
“I’ll be right back over,” he called out. “Remember the extra butter!”
“Butter?” Dominic asked as Eve shut the door.
“For popcorn. What do you want anyway?”
“When were you going to tell me you were pregnant?”
“Oh, for—you shouldn’t have come here.”
“When were you going to tell me you were pregnant?” Dominic demanded once more, reaching to grab for her arm.
Eve stepped back away from him, holding up a hand. “Don’t touch me. And don’t come in here demanding things. Fuck all. I told Isabelle not to tell anyone. I forgot to name you specifically.”
“When were you going to tell me?”
“I wasn’t. It’s not your business.”
“Is it mine?”
“It’s mine.”
He lowered his chin and leveled his eyes at her. “Evie…”
“It’s mine,” she repeated. “Beyond that, it doesn’t matter.”
“If I’m the father—”
“You’re not.”
“Are you sure? I have a right—” he began, but she cut him off.
“You don’t have anything of the sort. Not with me. Not ever,” she said sharply. “Besides, do you really want it to be yours? How do you think Isabelle would feel about that?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched, and his nostrils flared slightly. “If I am the father—”
“I said you’re not,” she repeated firmly. “You are not my baby’s father.”
“Who is?” He took a step forward.
“There isn’t one.”
“Then who?”
She backed down at that question and turned away, saying as she walked toward her kitchen, “I don’t know. It’s a short list, but there’s more than one possibility.”
“Am I a possibility?”
“Did you ever wear a condom? There’s your answer.”
He went a little pale and fell silent for a long moment. “So, it could be mine.”
She sighed and rummaged in her pantry for the microwave popcorn, wondering what was taking Tad so long. “Dominic, it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me!”
“Well, it shouldn’t. Even if it were yours, and I’m not sure that it is, you’re off the hook.”
He followed her into the kitchen a moment later. “Eve, if I got you pregnant…I would want to know.”
“Why? Sit down,” she said, indicating the chairs at the dining table. “And by the way, I’m totally not prepared to have this conversation.”
“Me either.”
“Look, you can’t be the father of this baby. You can be the uncle. You can be the aunt’s first husband. You can be that guy I used to go around with. But you cannot be her father. And no matter who got her started, you cannot see it through. You just can’t. There’s no way. You’re marrying Issie, and you’re going to have babies with her. You can be a father to those babies, but not to this one.”
“How short is the list?”
“It’s short. Listen to me, Dominic. Everything between us stops. Stopped. It stopped the moment you proposed—or at least as
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