I shoot him a dirty look because fuck him. I've managed to take care of this baby for ten weeks all by myself. Granted, it's the size of a raspberry and I didn't even know it was there for the first few weeks, but still. I'm more capable than I'm given credit for.

"So your plan is quitting your job," he prods, waving his hand for me to continue.

"I don't need anything from you, okay? I have a very successful blog. The blog has been my primary source of income for two years. The travel guide position was just a convenient way to fund my travel and grow the blog, but I'm good now. I'm established. I'm going to focus on that. I'm fine." I add the last bit a little testily because I'm starting to feel like I'm being interviewed about my life choices and I'm not here for that.

"So you're going to focus on your travel blog. With a baby?"

"Yup. I'll just fit my work in around the baby's sleep schedule."

He just stares at me like he's some kind of baby expert and I have no idea what I'm getting into. I mean fine, I might be projecting a little bit but I don't appreciate his attitude.

"I'll take the baby with me," I add in case he's confused. "I've already created a second blog page and registered the domain for a traveling with kids site. I've done the research, I'm going to double my revenue by adding a second site about traveling with kids. Millennials are all about traveling with their babies."

"Like vagabonds?" Yeah. He's not impressed.

"Vagabonds? What are you, eighty-seven years old?"

He's quiet for a few moments, staring at me like I'm a puzzle to be solved while stroking his chin like an ancient professor. It's annoying.

But he's also really hot. That's annoying too.

"What does your family think about all this?" he finally asks when it's clear I'm not going to say more.

"They don't know yet," I admit.

"And why is that? You haven't told your sister? Your identical twin sister? I imagine you must be very close, so why haven't you shared this with her?"

"It's not really any of your business."

We play the staring game for another round.

"She worries about me, okay? My sister has always sort of looked out for me even though we're the same age and I don't want her to feel responsible for worrying about this. For this baby. I'm going to tell her, and our parents. Of course I will. I just wanted to get myself organized a bit first."

"Organized." He repeats the word slowly and I'm not sure what he's thinking exactly.

"It's a better plan than pretending to be married."

"To be clear, it would be a real marriage. Legally speaking."

"Are you nuts? Do you fancy yourself some kind of royalty from the Victoria era in which we must marry because I've been compromised with your child? Newsflash, Kyle, it's the twenty-first century and I'm a grown woman. We don't need to do this. I don't even have your phone number and you're talking about some kind of legal marriage of convenience?"

"Yes." He says it calmly, firmly. One simple word. "Yes, I do need it. I need for this child to have my name. You've made yourself clear that you don't need me, but I need you. You're the baby's mother and thus a package deal because I want to be involved. And I want a legal heir. For a legal heir, I need a wife. And a marriage would suit you as well, I believe."

"How is that?"

"You'd seem quite... organized for your family, wouldn't you? If you were married. Settled."

"Does this arranged marriage include sex? Will you want me to lie back, open my legs and think of England whenever you have need?"

He stares at me for a full five seconds before laughing. "I don't believe anything we've done together involved you lying back and thinking about anything but screaming my name."

"Fair enough," I agree with a nonchalant shrug, because I was joking. I think. I mean, I am curious about the arranged marriage sex but I was joking about England.

I stare at the view of Philadelphia while I think. "I have a conference to go to this week."

"I'm not suggesting that I'll keep you here as a captive. Or expecting you to give up anything for me. Other than moving in. I'll need you to move in with me. Here."

"Oh."

"And I'll give you my phone number. I can even add you to my plan if you like."

"I have a phone plan. I told you, I'm not broke. Or helpless. I can take care—"

"Of yourself," he finishes. "I know."

We stare at each other for another long pregnant pause. Pun intended.

"You could add me to your Netflix account though, if you wanted to be helpful. I've been using an ex-boyfriend’s account since like, college. It's probably not appropriate anymore, considering."

"Agreed," Kyle says. And I don't miss the narrowing of his eyes at the mention of my illicit Netflix account. At least I assume that's what annoys him. And I'm pretty sure it wasn't even his Netflix account, it was probably his parents’ account. Either that or Kyle's having some kind of prehistoric reaction to planting his seed, but caring about some loser I dated in college is a real waste of his time.

"You can't even be sure this baby is yours. We don't even know each other. You don't know anything about me."

"We'll get a DNA test. I know a guy."

"You know a guy? Do you hear yourself? How many women have you knocked up that you've got a guy on standby to run paternity tests?"

"Just you. And relax, the guy is my cousin."

"That's not actually reassuring in any way." I drop my head onto the dining room table. "This is quite possibly the worst plan ever created. Ever, ever. And I'm the queen of making bad plans."

"Have a little faith, Daisy. I'm an expert at making good plans."

I grunt at the table.

"We have nothing in common," I protest.

"We have one great big thing in common, and we're going to have it in common for the rest of our lives."

Well, he has a point.

"We have chemistry. You know that we do."

I'm aware. It's how the thing we have in common came to be.

"Try to remember when you liked me," he adds.

"I don't dislike you now," I tell the table, then raise my head to glare at him a little. "But that doesn't mean that I like you, either. Just so you know."

"That's fine," he agrees, as if liking each other is irrelevant. "Just think about it."

10

Daisy

"I have things to do today," I remind Kyle as we walk into the hospital the next morning. I don't really. My conference doesn't start until tomorrow, I'm just a little anxious about being in a hospital with Kyle. I'm not even sure why I feel this way, maybe because I simply hadn't envisioned any scenario where we would be doing anything baby-related together.

"Luke said this won't take long," he assures me. "Then I'll drop you back at my place." His place, because I've checked out of the Marriott and into Hotel Kyle. It was either that or continue to wear his sister’s clothing because Kyle wasn't letting me out of his sight until we'd resolved a few things. Like agreeing to marry him.