Vivian Arend - Turn It Up

She laughed. “Didn’t get much sleep last night, hey? I heard you ended up driving Cousin Lila and her drinking buddies home. I thought I was the only one sweet enough to get suckered like that.” She batted her eyes and he groaned.

“I didn’t mind.” No, he hadn’t. Hadn’t minded one bit. In terms of charitable acts, it ranked right up there as one of the most self-serving activities he’d ever taken part in.

He sat back and concentrated harder on Maxine. Tasha wouldn’t be calling any time soon, and until tomorrow, his life was in limbo.

There was something hard poking her in the belly, and the most god-awful taste in her mouth. Tasha rolled over, tossed the shoe she’d found to the floor and winced as the sunshine pouring in the window stabbed her in the eyes. Okay, officially not the best way to spend a day. She levered herself vertical, fearful her head would spin, or her stomach.

It was her heart that did back flips when she spotted the file folder on the side table.

Maxwell Junior had proposed to her.

She wasn’t sure which rose faster or higher—confusion or anger. He hadn’t done anything on purpose to upset her, but damn it all, she’d had everything figured out. She was happy with her plan for artificial insemination. All the arguments he’d gone through she’d fought out with herself over the past months. There was no doubt in her mind that she’d be a fabulous mother, and any baby that did come along would be well loved and cared for. Still, she wasn’t about to argue that two good parents couldn’t provide even more, and she loved the thought of having extended family for her child.

But it wasn’t possible. She’d tried the regular route of getting involved with a partner. She’d had no luck finding anyone she wanted to spend a year with, let alone long enough to raise a child.

I like Max.

Her mind darted everywhere. It wasn’t acceptable for him to come in and tear her world apart. Intoxicating kisses and magical orgasms aside, she had to do the right thing for the long run.

She poured herself into the shower and turned the heat up as hot as she could handle. The headache from the previous night’s overindulgence had faded, exchanged for the dull ache of stress. She soaped her body, trying to ignore the tenderness between her legs from where he’d rubbed her to an orgasm. It was too easy to slip her fingers over the sensitive skin and daydream about what Max would do to her when she had her clothes off, his fingers touching her more intimately. Stoking and sliding over her skin…

Dammit, no. She would not fantasize thinking about Maxwell Turner. Tasha forced her hands away from her sex and did the fastest wash ever of her breasts, the tightness of her nipples taunting her.

Even when he was nowhere in the room, Max tormented her.

She dried herself, rough with the towel, then yanked on track pants and a T-shirt before stomping to the kitchen.

He had proposed to her.

Three glasses of water and an orange juice later, Natasha sat on her balcony in the sun, her eyes closed. Every deep breath she took in she mentally wrapped up one of her concerns and breathed it out. She needed to make a decision, but totally uptight and upset wasn’t the way to go into anything.

She grabbed the notepad from the chair beside her and started another list.

He’d given her three reasons for them to be together. She listed them, neatly, in order. Made two columns to the right of each with room for pros and cons. There was no way to get to the bottom of this without some solid information. Knowing Max, if she phoned him right now he’d insist on far more than a simple yes or no. He’d want to know why.

She laughed in spite of the situation. Yeah, he’d said she knew him better than to simply say he was too young. He hadn’t been too young mentally since fifth grade. The damn man was borderline genius. She couldn’t accuse him of not having thought out all the angles.

Tasha blew out a long slow breath. Fine, then it was only right she do the same thing. She’d gone through this before when she’d made the decision to become a single mom. Once more wouldn’t hurt.

The first item seemed the easiest, and safest, to deal with.

#1. Having a baby w/ Junior

Pros-

The words he’d shouted at her in the house made her smile. Colic and diapers. She had to admit she liked that he wasn’t afraid to speak plainly to her.

She listed points under each category, everything she could think of. She winced as she wrote down financial security. She didn’t like to admit that was one area she’d been the most nervous about regarding being a single mom. Even after getting to the point she had a solid home business, and enough money put away for the immediate future, what if something happened to her? She’d have insurance, but still.

#2. Having a baby with the extended Turner family around

Oh man. The lists grew fuller, on both the pro and con sides. Her family was a write-off. Her dad had disappeared a long time ago, and her mom was too busy with her own life on the other side of the country to give a damn. Tasha had settled on the west coast. She’d been friends with Lila for years, and Max was right, she’d attended more Turner-clan gatherings than she could count. The joys and downfalls of a large extended family were not a mystery to her. There were always willing hands to cuddle babies, wipe noses and read stories.

There were also tons of unasked-for opinions offered regarding personal issues. She swirled the glass of juice she’d refilled, watching the ice cubes spin in the bright liquid. Her privacy wasn’t so important that the thought of the family scared her away, but there was something to be said about not having everyone in town know everything about your business.

#3. A long-term relationship, by choice, with Maxwell.

Tasha put down the pen. She wasn’t willing to add to either the pro or con list right now. It was as if writing it in ink that would make it more real.

Was he someone she’d choose to be with?

Physically, there was nothing but dynamite between them. He’d proved that without a shadow of a doubt, her sex aching even now when she remembered his commanding touch. No, there would be hesitation when it came to writing that down as a positive. On the negative side—how long would it last? She’d done her best to stay in shape, but she was thirty-four. She planned on a having a baby. Would there be the same physical fireworks a year or two down the road? She couldn’t count on it, not as a positive, and suddenly the current overwhelming attraction between them seemed less important in the big scheme of things.

Mentally—that was the one area she couldn’t think of a single downfall. Max was smart, probably smarter than she was. Yet he wasn’t mean about it like some people she knew who felt the need to rub in their superiority at every opportunity. He worked with others easily, and in that typical Turner style, he supported his family by finding ways to make their lives easier by using his brain.

Gack. Even thinking about it made him sound like some sort of incredible epitome of manhood who she’d be crazy to think about turning down.

The con side taunted her. It wasn’t so much him, as his sex. A long-term relationship. What exactly did that mean to a twenty-four-year-old? She’d dated thirty-year-olds whose idea of forever was “until they spotted a better looking pair of legs”. Coming home to find her partner in bed with another woman—not something she ever wanted to experience again. Being neglected, or having a new job in a new location chosen over her? Maybe she had the shittiest luck in who she’d gotten involved with over the years, but frankly her track record with guys was miserable.

Maybe it wasn’t the guys’ fault, maybe it was her. Hell, even in her own tiny family of origin she saw no indication she could be loved long term.

She knew she’d be there for a child, unconditionally, and forever. A devoted family of two wasn’t a terrible thing to plan to achieve. Maybe it would be more physically challenging, and emotionally, she’d have to go it alone. But she was certain having someone bounce in and out of her child’s life was potentially much worse than never having daddy figure at all.

Tasha gave up. She put on her sneakers and headed out the door for a long, hard run. If nothing else, it would force the remaining alcohol out of her system. This coming week, no matter what she decided, she was going to move ahead with the baby making.

The question still remained whether or not Maxwell would be involved.

Three days. Max flicked between computer screens, his edginess filtering out through his fingers. Three restless, incredibly long days—they each felt far longer than the standard twenty-four-hour period—and she still hadn’t made up her mind. Max was caught somewhere between demanding an answer and waiting that one more day in case one wrong move would turn a potential yes into a no.

He’d seen her the day after he’d proposed. Stopped by her apartment first thing in the morning with a fresh herbal tea and a fruit smoothie. Tasha had been dressed but still sleepy eyed and soft looking, and he’d wanted to jump her right there.

She’d taken both his offerings with a nod, then ordered him to get his ass out and wait for her to call him. Her forceful response had made him smile—he’d put her out of kilter, had he? Of course, there were other ways to stay in contact. She’d said nothing about email.

But as the day passed, the urge to ignore her command and simply show up at her office increased, and he had to forcibly ignore it. The idea of sending flowers? He’d love to, but that kind of overture was romantic, and she wasn’t looking for romance, she was looking for a forever friend. If he was going to sell her on this for long enough to be able to subtly influence her, he had to play by her rules right now. No matter how much it sucked.

He couldn’t concentrate on his work and had taken to goofing off on his pet project instead, a new and more interactive website for Tasha’s architecture business. Every time he popped onto her old site, his eyes wanted to bleed, with the bad color choices and static header. Not that he was trying to sweeten the pot or anything, but sending her an email to check the draft site would at least ensure he was put front and center in her mind.

He dragged another icon into place, adjusting the position when the Turner Alert web link went off. Someone, somewhere amongst his vast relative pool, had set up a game night. Thank God, that was just what he needed for distraction. He clicked the link and rejoiced. It was an open call from Lila, which meant he was invited, and the chances of seeing Tasha went from slim to nearly one hundred percent.

He saved his work then grabbed the phone. “Maxy—are you and your roommate going to need a ride to the game?”

His sister hesitated. “I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t.”

Max shut down his computer and headed for his room to make a quick change of clothes. “Aren’t you coming? I’ll let you be on my team. Lila mentioned we’re playing Taboo.”

“I’m coming, but I…I already have a date for tonight.”

Max stopped dead in his tracks. “A date? Really?”

She growled at him. “You’re such a turkey. Yes, a date. I am old enough you know. It’s not like I’m not allowed to spend time with the opposite sex.”

Well, if he had anything to say about it, she would still be off limits. Yeah, pretty damn hypocritical considering he’d given Tasha heck for thinking he was too young a few days ago, but this was his sister. He beat down his protective urges. “Do I know the guy?”

“Junior…”

“What? You know you’re going to get the third degree from everyone else, may as well practice now.”

Her sigh carried over the phone, and he laughed to himself. He could picture her, slightly flustered and blushing red as she tried to come up with the best way to make this guy sound safe and yet interesting at the same time.

“He works at the college.”

Teacher was good. “Does he have tenure?”

“Junior!”

He laughed. “Okay, no more teasing. Tell me straight, and I’ll be a good big brother and shut up.”

“Big brother, ha. By ten minutes.”

“Take it up with Mom, not my fault.”

Max hopped in his car, switched to his hands-free, and headed over to Lila’s, listening as his sister rambled on about the new guy. He didn’t sound too dangerous, although Maxine had dashed those first initial high points when she shared the guy wasn’t a professor, but a clerk in shipping and receiving.