Call Me Crazy (Bellamy Creek #3) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,7

would like to experience being pregnant and giving birth if I can. I know I’ll be a good mom.”

Enzo’s eyes were on our hands. He swallowed.

“You cannot imagine the things people say to me,” I told him, a lump trying to form in my throat.

He looked up. “Like what?”

“Like, ‘At your age, you should lower your standards and just find a man willing to commit.’ Or ‘You may have to settle down with a man who already has kids, if you really want them.’ Or ‘You’re a beautiful woman. It can’t be that hard to get knocked up.’”

“Someone said that to you?” Enzo appeared appropriately horrified.

“Yes. People say that shit to women all the time.”

“Fuck.” He shook his head, like he had no idea what jerks people could be.

But this was no time for a lesson on how society treats women and their bodies.

“You’re probably wondering, ‘Why me?’” I went on.

His expression morphed into something more familiar—three parts cocky, one part amused. “Not really.”

Laughing, I took my hand back. “Well, I’ll tell you anyway.”

“Please do.” He sipped his bourbon, knowing he’d enjoy this.

“I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but we go back a long way, and that means something to me. Our families go back a long way. There’s trust and loyalty and respect. There’s a history of . . . of showing up for each other. And I was just thinking, even with our somewhat rocky past, that we’d show up for each other. Wouldn’t we?”

He took a drink and swirled what was left in the glass. “Nothing means more to me than family. That’s true.”

“I think beneath it all, we share the same traditional family values—albeit with some modern adjustments,” I said. “I don’t think a woman should have to be married to have a baby, and you don’t think a man should have to be married to inherit the family business.”

Enzo thought for a moment. “But I believe in honesty too, and this plan of yours involves lying to our families and friends. And my closest friends are family to me.”

“I know, and I don’t love that part of it. But I do like that about you,” I added quickly, “the fact that you’d hesitate before deceiving the people you love. It’s part of what makes me want you to be the father of my baby, despite your enormously inflated ego. Deep down, like way deep, buried beneath layer upon layer of vanity, pride, and self-absorption—”

“Okay, okay.” He stopped me with a hand. “Enough.”

I smiled and went on. “Deep down, I do believe you are a decent man. Honorable. Trustworthy. Protective of those you care about.”

“Don’t forget about my face,” he said, giving off that Enzo Moretti heat that had probably melted more panties than I’d ever owned.

“Your face?” I squinted, like I hadn’t really considered the fact that he was the best-looking guy I’d ever known. “I suppose it’s passably attractive. I’ve never really looked that close.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Fine, be that way. I will donate my passable looks to your turkey-baster baby.”

“You will?” My heart started to race.

“Why not?” He shrugged, as if he was agreeing to go out for pizza with me. “I’m not sure we’re going to fool anybody, but what the hell? I’ve got nothing to lose. I do want to be a dad, and I’m not getting any younger. And fake-marrying you sounds better than real-marrying anyone else—as long as it’s temporary.”

“I suppose that’s the best proposal I’m going to get, huh?” I looked at the ring on my finger. “Well, Ricky, I guess you’ve got yourself a Lucy.”

“You did what?” My younger sister Ellie nearly went off the back of the treadmill next to me at the gym. She had to grab the rails to keep on the belt.

“I asked Enzo Moretti to be the father of my baby, and in return, I offered to marry him.”

“Bianca, what the hell?” Ellie’s feet scrambled beneath her to regain her balance. “Why would you do that? It sounds psychotic.”

“It’s not psychotic. It’s very logical, in fact.” I bumped up my speed from a power walk to a light jog. “It’s going to get both of us exactly what we want with the added bonus of being a temporary situation.”

“Temporary? Uh, last I checked, a baby is forever.”

I laughed. “I know the baby is forever, but the marriage won’t be. It’s just a marriage of convenience. Happens all the time in books.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t a book, Tiny—it’s

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