Page 53 of Most Likely to Fear Love

“Are you serious right now?”

I nodded, my face burning. “Dead serious. He just laid it out there, like it was the most logical thing in the world. And I… I don’t know, Han. It’s insane, right?”

“So let me get this straight... the hot Viking wants to lock you up in his cabin for ten days of non-stop sex and you’re calling me to THINK ABOUT IT?” She threw her head back laughing, curls bouncing everywhere.

“Hannah! This isn’t funny!”

“Oh, it’s not funny.” She was still grinning as she leaned back on the couch and folded her arms. “It’s fucking brilliant.”

I froze mid-pace, turning to gape at her. “What?”

“Think about it.” She lifted her legs up and swung around, dropping onto the couch with all the grace of a baby giraffe. Deftly ignoring the way I winced at how she was treating my furniture, of course. It was when she started gesturing with her hands like she was outlining some grand master plan that I knew she was going to make zero effort to talk me out of it. “You’ve already tried the clinical, sterile route, and look where that got you: heartbroken and sad. Now here’s a guy, an insanely hot guy, I might add, who’s not only willing to help you, but also seemsgenuinely invested in making this happen. And all you have to do is spend ten days in his house. Doing the thing you need to do to actually make a baby.”

I crossed my arms, my stomach twisting into knots. “When you put it like that, it sounds kinda logical.”

She pointed at me like she’d just won an argument in court. “Because itislogical. You know he won’t hurt you, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And you’re attracted to him, right?”

I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. “Ugh. Fine. Yes. Obviously.”

Her eyes lit with glee at my admission, and she practically vibrated with excitement. “Then what’s the problem?”

“Uh, everything? The part where he said I can’t wear underwear? Or the part where I’m basically signing up to let him do whatever he wants, whenever he wants?” Or the part where I was totally inadequate in bed. Wasn’t gonna tell Hannah that though, was I?

She waved the rest off like they were minor details. “Okay, yeah, the whole ‘free use’ thing is a little out there. But honestly? That might be exactly what you need. You’re such a control freak, Cass. Maybe letting go for once is the key.”

I glared at her, but she just smiled sweetly, the way she always did when she thought she was right. Knew she was right.

“You’re impossible,” I slumped onto the couch next to her.

“And you’re overthinking this.” She nudged me with her elbow. “If you really want a baby, then what’s the harm in giving this a shot? Worst case, it doesn’t work, and you’re exactly where you are now, just with a few orgasms under your belt.”

I almost flinched at that, because I’d never…

“Best case, you end up pregnant and with a great story to tell at the baby shower.”

That made me snort. “Yeah, because I’m totally going to stand up in front of our grandmother and say, ‘Well, you see, Nana, I didn’t wear underwear for ten days, and now we have little Baby Free Use.’”

Hannah cackled, slapping her knee. “Okay, maybe leave that part out. But seriously, Cass. Don’t let your overthinking get in the way of something that could actually work. You’ve been through enough already. You deserve to try something that might make you happy for once.”

I flopped back against the cushions, her words circling in my head. “You really think it’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s crazy,” she said, grinning. “But I also think it’s kind of perfect.”

HARLE

Cassidy. Cassidy. Cassidy. I took a swig of beer, barely even noticing the taste as I stared out over the lake.

Two days since I’d laid out the most insane proposition of my life, and I’d done fuck all else but think about her. The fence posts I’d meant to replace were still lying untouched by the barn. The boat motor I’d promised to fix for old Joe Bradley was still in pieces. Even Derek the donkey had given me the side-eye this morning when I’d accidentally filled his water trough with feed.

Forty-eight hours of replaying that moment in her kitchen. The way her eyes had widened, her lips parting in surprise. The slight tremor in her hands as she’d gripped her beer bottle. Christ, even the memory of her nervous swallow had me shifting in my chair.

What kind of man proposes ten days of no-strings-attached sex to a woman who’s already gotten so far under his skin he can barely think straight?

This kind of man, apparently. A fucking idiot.

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