It felt like none of what was happening was real and that she could say anything. She could tell this stranger what she wasn’t even willing to admit to her girlfriends. That she wasn’t all good and sweet and considerate. Her actions with Frank had been manipulative, and falling into the water was really no more than she deserved. “Is there something you want in life so bad you can taste it? Have you ever felt that sort of desperate urgency?”
“I felt that way about baseball.”
“So are you content, then? Have everything you want now?”
Violet turned in time to see his head moving slowly back and forth. “No, I’m good, but something is missing…and I can’t figure out what it is. I feel restless. I feel like everyone I meet wants something from me.”
“They probably do.”
He gave a snort. “Thanks for the pep talk.”
She felt her cheeks heat. “Well, it’s probably true. You must be in demand.”
“The problem is, people want to use me. No one wants me. That’s why I don’t date anymore. I can’t trust that a woman wants me for me, as corny as that is.”
Violet nodded. For all his money and fame, Dylan was lonely. Isolated. It almost made sense, then, why he would find her attractive. It had been a while since he’d dated, and she was not the aggressive, pursuing type. The discomfort she’d been feeling, the nervousness, dissipated. “And if you don’t trust someone, there really can’t be a relationship, can there?”
“Nope. I do have my game, which I love to play. But I can’t help thinking that there are more important things in life. What do you want, Violet? Or do you already have it?”
Her want was definitely unfulfilled. It even hurt to say it out loud, so deeply did she want to be a mother. “The thing I want is a baby.”
Dylan wasn’t sure what he’d thought she was going to say, but she had looked so fervent that he’d been getting a little nervous. But hell, a baby? That seemed damn innocent after some of the wild scenarios that had run through his head.
“So…you wanted to have a baby with Frank?” Dylan couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming over her body. She had her feet tucked under her legs and the shirt pulled down to her knees, but he knew there were some luscious curves under there. He could picture her pregnant, no problemo, and the thought had him uncomfortable in his shorts again.
He’d never looked at a pregnant woman and felt the urge to do her, but it was running through his mind with Violet. Apparently he wanted to do her any old way he could-front, back, clothes, naked, standing up, lying down, right here on this boat. He really was a sick bastard. She was talking about serious stuff, and he was thinking up ways to get her out of that T-shirt. He almost expected his mother’s hand to pop out of thin air and cuff the back of his head.
But he liked the way Violet spoke, and the way she looked at him. Like he was…sweet. It had been high school since a girl had just looked at him and liked him.
“I wanted Frank to get me pregnant. Then leave, while I raised the child by myself.”
“Whoa.” He squinted a little as the sun broke through the clouds and hit him in the eyes. “So, did Frank know about this? He was cool with it?” Personally, he couldn’t imagine getting a woman pregnant and walking away. But then again, if a woman he cared about, who would make a great mother, asked him for a little, uh, donation, would he be able to say no?
The whole idea of leaving a woman to raise a child alone just didn’t seem right to him, even if that’s what she wanted. And the only women he was close to were his sisters anyway, and he’d share a lot with them-money, a kidney-but he wasn’t going to go there with sperm. Of course, if they had a surrogate mother and wanted to use his DNA to keep it in the family…What the hell was he thinking? His sisters had seven kids between them. Fertility had not been an issue up to this point.
“I was going to talk to Frank about it tonight, but his friends came along-uninvited.”
Was that relief he felt? “Why not a sperm bank? It could get messy if Frank changed his mind after the fact.”
She smiled. “He wouldn’t change his mind. Trust me, he has nothing against children but he has no desire to raise any. And I didn’t want a sperm bank because I was afraid that it was risky. You don’t really know what you’re getting.” Then she shrugged. “But while I was out there treading water, it occurred to me that when you adopt a child, you usually don’t know a whole lot of anything, and I haven’t heard any adoptive parents complain. And sometimes, even when a couple is married, they don’t really know everything about the other person. A reputable sperm bank is quite safe. They screen sociopaths and other mental impairments, so I won’t be getting a serial killer’s sperm. It will be fine, and I’ll finally get what I want-a baby.”
It all seemed logical to Dylan. But something about it still bothered him. This woman having a total stranger’s baby rubbed him wrong. “How old are you? How do you know you won’t get married in a few years?”
“I’m twenty-eight. If I got pregnant today I’d be twenty-nine when the baby is born. I know that’s not old at all, but what if I have fertility problems? A miscarriage? What if I want a second child? I don’t want to wait too long and find out it’s too late. I want to be a mother.” She looked at him, serious and soft-spoken. “More than anything.”
“Well…” Christ, what was he supposed to say? “Good luck.” Brilliant, Diaz, just brilliant.
Violet gave a small laugh, one that did all kinds of things to his guts. He felt like he did after he ran hard laps on a really hot day-sort of light-headed and sick to his stomach.
Because for a single, stupid second there, he had thought about offering himself in place of the anonymous test tube turkey baster daddy.
Which was insane.
God, he’d lost his mind.
He wanted to have sex with her, not a child.
Good thing he’d kept his mouth zipped. And to prevent further possibility of blurting dumb-ass things out loud, maybe he should distract himself.
By kissing her.
Four
Dylan’s mouth was close enough to feel Violet’s hot breath when her hand rammed into his nose and pushed him back.
“Ow,” he said, thinking that was an all-time first. He’d never once had a woman ram her palm up his nostrils. He wrinkled his damaged nose, sniffled a little, irritated with the interruption.
“Sorry,” she said. “But what do you think you’re doing?”
He’d thought it was obvious. “I was going to kiss you. And I’d like to try again if you promise not to hit me.”
“I don’t want you to kiss me.”
Violet looked serious. She didn’t look like this was a really funny joke and she’d start laughing any second now.
Dylan wanted to whimper. It had been a whole year, and he’d been fine, damn it, just hanging in there, and now he wanted her so badly he was itching in his own skin, and she was saying no.
But he had to ask. “Why not?” Why exactly the hell not? He was decent-looking. He made a lot of money. He just wanted a kiss. Just a very small one. Maybe with a little tongue tossed in. And a grope over her unrestricted breasts.
That was it, though. He could stop there.
“Because you probably make out with women every weekend. You’ve probably had sex with hundreds of women, and trust me, after all of that, I’m going to disappoint you.”
Hundreds. Wow. He’d made a decent impression on her after all.
But it wasn’t true.
“I have not slept with hundreds of women. Not even twenty.” He wasn’t going to get any more specific than that. If he said nineteen, she’d think he was a pig. If he said two, she’d think he was a loser. Just keep it vague. “And I told you it’s been a year since I’ve dated anyone.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s been a whole year since you kissed a woman. Or had sex, for that matter.”