Baby Be Mine Page 7

  Clarice realized that whatever had smashed against her lips must be other lips. Those soft, supple lips moved slowly along the contours of her own mouth, nipping softly here and there. She felt she was on cloud nine. Was this what a first kiss should feel like? Because even though she was inexperienced, she wanted to try out some more. It was thoroughly addicting.

  Was this chemistry? Who was this man that just kissed her? Would he be the father of her baby? Would she be brave enough to ask for his sperm? All of these questions buzzed in her head without any answer. Curious, she opened her eyes slowly and was once again at a loss for speech as the person who had just kissed her was actually the one person she had wished she would never see again.

  “You!” Clarice finally uttered in shock, shame, embarrassment, and surprise.

  She tried to push Hunter off but was unsuccessful. When she was about to scrabble out from underneath him, he toppled over backwards and in turn pulled her along with him too. Now she was lying on top of him, kissing his cheek.

  Clarice’s cheeks warmed in a bashful pink flush. Embarrassed, she swiftly got up from the awkward position, straightening out her clothing to resemble some form of normality.

  “Did you enjoy that?” Hunter asked with a smirk on his face, his eyes twinkling in wicked amusement when he got up to straighten his clothing too.

  Hunter couldn’t believe his luck when he saw the woman from the club the other day. And here he just kissed her. Man, that was amazing. Not like that sloppy kiss from the other girl at all.

  Clarice, who saw Hunter smirking at her, just wanted to shout at him for causing her this much distress. No one had ever been that close to her before. No one had ever kissed her before. In actual fact, that was her very first kiss, and it had to be in front of a goddamn bathroom.

  “I…”

  “Wait. Don’t talk,” Hunter interrupted when an idea popped into his head. “Stay right there,” he instructed her.

  Clarice was too stunned to react, as in the next second, a white flash blinded her vision, making her blink a few times until it returned to normal again. And then she realized Hunter had just taken a picture of her with his iPhone.

  “What was that for?” she asked, aghast.

  “Evidence,” Hunter stated simply, saving the image to his phone.

  “Evidence?” Clarice asked.

  “Yes.”

  “For what?” she asked, flabbergasted at the whole outcome.

  “So I can sue you.”

  “Sue me? Why?” Clarice was confused.

  “Because A: you just kissed me without my permission, and B: you spat on my shirt.”

  Was this Casanova for real? She kissed him without permission and now he was suing her? Shouldn’t she sue him because he stole her first kiss?

  Clarice wanted to curse herself. After a restless night, dreaming about her first real date—which hopefully would lead to something more, aka husband and/or father of her child—she couldn’t believe she had to meet this Casanova again.

  “Okay, let me make this clear. A: I did not kiss you. It was an accident. Obviously, you needed glasses because you can’t see where you’re going. You bumped into me, and then you kissed me.”

  “Not from my perspective,” Hunter interjected. “A: you were walking like you were dawdling with the fairies. When I saw you, I was gonna talk to you about my ruined shirt, but then you had to bump into me first. Then you even dragged me down and kissed me without my consent.”

  “I didn’t kiss you without your permission,” Clarice argued.

  “Oh, like I’m gonna give you permission to kiss me, then. You’re not my type,” Hunter lied. He didn’t need to give her permission to kiss him. She could smash those lips into him again and he wouldn’t give a fig. In fact, he wouldn’t mind doing it all over again, right here, right now, in front of the women’s restroom. This woman was so definitely his type.

  “You are so not my type either,” Clarice retorted. “Arrrgghhh, how come every time I see you, you always managed to embarrass me?” she grumbled to herself, dusting invisible specks off her clothes.

  “You’re one to talk. You spat at me when last we met. Remember? Not to mention yanking off my towel when you delivered those flowers. In fact, I should sue you for that too.”

  “It was to the wrong address. I didn’t confess to you or anything. And regarding the spitting incident, you were in the wrong,” Clarice explained.

  “I was in the wrong?” Hunter questioned. “How am I in the wrong when you were the one that spat on me?”

  “You were in the wrong because you were the one who bought me that stupid drink. It tasted so disgusting. What was I supposed to do with that foul potion in my mouth? Swallow it? Of course not. I had to throw it up somewhere. If I died from that poison, then you would be the number one suspect on the list. And if I got sick, then you would be held responsible.” Clarice jabbed at Hunter’s chest to show she meant business.

  “People don’t die of drinking spirits. And look at you. You seem healthy enough to me.”

  “I wouldn’t be if I didn’t throw up,” Clarice argued.

  “All right, why on me, then?”

  “You were right in my face.”

  “Well… well…” Hunter thought. Shit, he needed a good comeback. This woman was throwing him into a corner. He’d never lost a verbal battle before. When he couldn’t think of any other accusation or retort to stab back at her, he went back to the beginning. “You were the one to ask me to buy that drink, remember, acting all cute and innocent.” There, surely he was in the right now. Can’t argue with that one, he thought, grinning.

  “Ha-ha-ha, I want to laugh. I did not act all cute and innocent. You were the one who came on to me. You came and sat next to me first,” Clarice challenged.

  “Well, that’s because you were all alone, sitting there by yourself, looking so miserable that I had to rescue you,” Hunter rebutted.

  “From what? From hungry predators looking for nice, innocent prey for dinner that night? I bet you were that hunter, you Casanova!” Clarice shouted.

  Thinking they were both on an even score now, she grinned secretly.

  Oh, how true her meaning is, Hunter thought. This Hunter, acting like a hunter, did prey on innocent young girls some nights—oh, who was he kidding—almost every night actually.

  “You’re wrong, sweetheart. I was only there to protect you. You looked so innocent sitting there by yourself. What could a gentleman like me do? Leave you as easy game for the others.”

  “Mister, I had friends there so there was no need for your protection. And for your information, I am well over the young and innocent age,” Clarice explained.

  “Still claiming to be thirty, sweetheart? You don’t look anything over twenty to me.”

  “You think I’m lying?” Clarice asked in disbelief.

  “I’m just stating what I see,” Hunter said, eyeing her body.

  “Fine. If you don’t believe me, I’ll prove it to you.” Clarice rummaged through her bag, searching for her wallet.

  She needed to clean out her bag someday. It was seriously a dangerous place to poke her hand into. One time Elise emerged with a bleeding finger when the needle of her name badge stabbed her.

  Hunter stood resting against the women’s entryway, eyeing the girl in front of him, his gaze running up and down her body. Thank God she was busy rifling through her bag because the hungry look pasted on his face right now would definitely scare her if she saw him.

  No matter how much she insisted she was thirty, Hunter would never believe it. She had the body of a woman under twenty, properly a virgin, since she was blushing the whole time they had their little bickering session, which he thoroughly enjoyed and found endearing.

  Today she wore a nice pink sweater and black skinny jeans, with medium-length heels. Still, at that height her head just managed to reach past his shoulder. Hunter had a thing for pink, especially on women; it just made them look super hot. He wouldn�
��t mind sharing a bed with her at all, actually.

  Just then her eyes met his and man, was that a punch to the stomach. He just couldn’t seem to get enough of those eyes. Then that face was replaced by an ID card shoved right in his line of sight. It took him a moment to adjust to the closeness of the picture, but once he took hold of it and moved it away to a good distance so he could focus on the picture, it became clear. His eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he saw her date of birth printed on her driver’s license.

  “Shit! You really are thirty!” he spat out.

  Hunter couldn’t believe this beautiful woman who looked way younger than him was actually thirty.

  “I told you I didn’t lie.” Clarice smiled at her small victory.

  “God, you’re so old,” Hunter said, when an idea popped into his head.

  Clarice’s smile dropped.

  “What does that mean?” she asked, not so sure of her triumph. Here she thought that by proving to Hunter her true age, he would respect her a bit, not remind her again that she was old. Why did she show the man her driver license? Because he was riling her up too much; that’s why.

  “That you’re old now,” Hunter stated, suppressing the urge to snicker at the whole situation. How he couldn’t wait to tease her now, but still, he couldn’t believe how this woman could appear this young when she just hit thirty. He had never dated a woman in her thirties before. If he decided to go for her, would that make him her boy toy? The thought sounded a little tempting actually.

  “But you said I looked young and innocent just a moment ago. Like a twenty-year-old woman. Now I look thirty? How can I have aged so fast in a just a few minutes?” Clarice asked for clarification.

  “Woman, do avocados look old to you?” Hunter explained, using the only analogy he could think of. Time to have some fun with her now, he thought.

  “What are you on about? I don’t understand.”

  “See, can you see this?” Hunter showed Clarice her driver’s license, tapping at her picture while trying very hard to suppress his laughter.

  “I’m seeing my picture,” Clarice stated seriously.

  “No, you’re seeing an avocado,” Hunter said again.

  “An avocado?’ Clarice questioned Hunter in confusion. The look on her face just made Hunter want to tease her even more.

  “Yes. An avocado.”

  “I don’t see an avocado. Just me.” No matter how many times Clarice looked at her image on the ID, she still could only see herself. What was this Casanova on about?

  “Look, let’s look at it this way.” Hunter began his explanation. “All avocados look the same on the outside, right?

  Clarice nodded in agreement.

  “They’re green, maybe a little rough and wrinkly on the outside, but once you peel off the skin and check the meat, that’s when you know they’re old and soft.”

  “So what you’re trying to say is that I’m an avocado?” Clarice reiterated.

  “Yes, you’re an avocado,” he confirmed.

  “I still don’t get it. I don’t look that old. You said so yourself a minute ago.”

  “God, woman! It’s the inside that counts. You know, the mechanics.”

  “What are you on about? I still don’t understand you. Speak English.”

  “I am speaking English. It’s you who’s acting all dense.”

  “Who are you calling dense?” Clarice had had enough of this man. Who was he to call her dense? She was a smart woman who had accomplished so many things in her thirty years.

  “You, woman. You!” Hunter said again, poking at her forehead to press his point.

  “Stop calling me woman,” she shouted, brushing his finger from her face and snatching back her license. “You just called me a sweetheart before.”

  “That was before you said you were thirty, acting all innocent and that.”

  “Now I’m acting all innocent? I tell you, mister, I am neither dense nor am I playing innocent, beca—”

  “It doesn’t matter now.” Hunter butted in. “And even if you were acting all innocent now, I wouldn’t believe you. A woman like you should act well and refined, like aged wine, matured to perfection. But you, now that I know your age, you don’t act like wine at all. You’re an avocado.”

  “Stop with the avocado. My name is Clarice. Not avocado or woman or even sweetheart.” She fumed.

  “Sorry, avocado it is for me. Avocado. Avocado,” Hunter repeated, just to make sure Clarice was mad. He loved her angry face.

  “Clarice! Clarice!” Clarice repeated, her cheeks turning a bright pink.

  “Avocado. Avocado. Actually, I kind of like the sound of it now. Nice and smooth on my tongue.”

  “Arrgh, you insufferable man. I’ve had enough of you. Why am I even arguing with you anyway? A waste of my time. I’m leaving. And I pray to God that if I see you again, I’ll bite off my own tongue,” Clarice vowed.

  Hunter felt a little disappointed when Clarice said she was going. He was having so much fun with the bickering and the teasing. He didn’t want it to end yet.

  “I’ll wager you on that, Avocado,” he said, just so they could continue with their bickering a little more. “If I see you again, I swear on my life that I’ll never look at another woman again. Which is hardly likely since I love my girls too much. And just for the record, my name is Hunter. You know, the mysterious Hunter that likes to hunt down innocent girls.” Then he winked at her.

  Come on, give me a good comeback, he challenged.

  “Arrrgh, you Casanova. I hope you marry a woman who holds an iron rod in her hand. Then she’ll beat you into shape.” Clarice growled, then stormed off, leaving Hunter to laugh in her wake.

  Chapter 8

  Clarice was still fuming and a little rattled when she approached the man holding the pink rose. As if sensing she was approaching, he stood and tugged his shirtsleeves into place, then glanced at her and smiled. It looked like she wasn’t the only one who was nervous after all.

  “Clarice?” he asked, unsure whether she was the same as his match on the dating site.

  “Yes.” She tried mustering up a smile, but her emotions were still boiling from her encounter with that Casanova near the restroom, and all she could achieve was a slight slant of her lips. And speaking of Casanova, she spotted him right near their table, his eyes following her closely.

  Blast! She should’ve known he would be dining here too. Feeling his eyes boring straight at her, she reverted hers to the man sitting before her.

  But how did he get to his seat so quickly? Clarice’s thoughts drifted back to Hunter again. Clarice, shut up and look at the man in front of you now!

  Hunter, on the other hand, couldn’t believe the woman he named Avocado was actually the young man’s date. This wasn’t good at all. Somehow he felt a little irritated.

  Clarice was busy eyeing the young man in front of her, still holding the pink rose, unsure of what to do.

  Up close, the man was pleasantly handsome, but nothing that made her heart jump like that Casanova over there.

  Stop it, Clarice. Stop thinking like this at once. You are here to see this nice man. Talk to him. Now!

  “Sorry for the wait. I got waylaid coming here,” she said, hoping her heart would calm down a bit.

  “Oh, it’s all right. I was just enjoying the view outside.” He smiled at her. “Oh, here, your rose,” the man said, handing the bloom to her.

  “Thank you.” She smiled. He seemed nice.

  “Here, have a seat.” The man moved to her side and pulled out the chair for her. Oh, how sweet, she thought. Such a gentleman. One brownie point for my date.

  “The view is very beautiful at this time of evening, don’t you think?” he asked, flashing his pearly white teeth at her.

  She mentally increased his score. A man that showed emotion definitely deserved another point. Plus, those clean white teeth warranted extra credit. She couldn’t imagine dating a man with bad oral hygiene, let alone asking for h
is sperm.

  She was quite pleased with the turn of events, actually. The man was almost halfway there already. Just three more points to go to fit her criteria, and then she’d ask him for his sperm. Just perfect.

  “Hello. Welcome. Have you decided on what you would like to order yet?”

  Clarice looked up to see the waitress holding a pad of paper and pen in her hand. She smiled at her, then turned to look at the young man—

  Chocolate chippy, she forgot his name. It was in the profile on her laptop. Why couldn’t she remember? What was it? Hunter, was it Hunter? Wait, that was that Casanova’s name.

  Why did she remember Hunter’s name and not this handsome man’s? Useless, Clarice, useless. How are you going to find the perfect genes for your baby if you can’t even remember the guy’s name? And here you have the gift of memory, recalling all your patients’ names even when they’ve told you only once. How disgraceful, she yelled at herself.

  Oh, just shut up. She told herself off. You’re driving me crazy.

  “It’s Darcy,” the man said when he saw her expression that literally translated to, What was your name again? Because I forgot it already, even when I had just read your profile last night. “My name is Darcy.”

  Oh, how polite. How adorable. Four points now. Maybe she could have a future with him after all.

  They talked about this and that. He was twenty-three. A seven-year difference, but they say love holds no barrier. Plus, Casanova did say she looked nothing over twenty. At least until she proved her true age. She hoped this wouldn’t be the case for this lovely young man here.

  They also talked about his hobbies. Apparently, he was just freshly out of university, gaining a bachelor’s degree in journalism at Massey University in Wellington. He was currently looking for a job, but hadn’t found the right one yet. So at present, he was working as a librarian, since he loved books so much, just like her. Ding! Ding! Ding! Another big thing in common. She could brag all day about Agatha Christie, her favorite mystery author. She could see they could get along quite well together in the future.