Anger tightened his chest. “Are you serious?”

“Yep. He drove me home to Vegas, handed me some cash and told me to get rid of the baby.”

“Fucking ass**le.”

“Tell me about it.”

“But you decided to keep the baby.”

“And ended up with two,” she said with a laugh. “Trust me, no one was more shocked than me when Jason popped out after Sophie. He was hiding behind her during every ultrasound. Even her heartbeat overpowered his. Not much has changed since the womb, I guess. Sophie is still the ringleader of whatever shenanigans those two get into.”

Seth sat up and reached for the bottle of water on the nightstand. He took a quick sip, then offered the bottle to Miranda, who shook her head.

“So what happened with Trent?” he asked, realizing she’d never concluded that chapter of the story.

“I called him to let him know I was keeping the baby and he told me he wanted no part in the child’s life.” She shrugged. “I expected that. But what I didn’t expect? Seeing Trent’s picture on the news a month later and finding out he killed a man during a robbery. That’s when I decided that I didn’t want Trent in my kid’s life either. Before, I was open to the idea of letting him visit the child if he ever changed his mind, but after he was arrested, I was all, hell no.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“So remember all the tip money I saved up for college? Well, I used it to hire a lawyer instead. He drew up some papers and I went to see Trent in prison. He signed away his rights, and I haven’t seen or spoken to him since.”

“Do the rugrats ever ask about their dad?”

“Never. I assume as they get older they’ll become more curious about him and start asking questions. God, I’m not looking forward to that day.” She bit her bottom lip, distressed. “What if they want to visit him in prison?”

“They won’t.” Seth didn’t even hesitate. “The rugrats are smart, babe. Smart enough to know that you’re the only parent they need.”

“You think my kids are smart?” She sounded astounded.

Discomfort squeezed his throat. “Yeah, sure. Of course they are.”

Miranda continued to stare at him as if he’d just told her he’d won an Olympic gold medal for synchronized swimming or some shit. “Can I ask you something?” she finally said.

Crap. He knew exactly where this convo was heading, and he needed to derail it. Now. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he answered.

“Why don’t you want children?”

And there it was.

Seth casually raked a hand through his hair, trying to hide his growing agitation. “Not everyone’s meant to have kids.”

Her dark eyebrows furrowed. “So you think you’re not meant to have kids?”

“Yes. I mean, no.” His brain struggled to locate an exit strategy. “I’m just not a kid person, babe. We operate on different wavelengths. They can’t talk to me, I can’t talk to them. And, uh…” He scrolled through the list of reasons he usually provided when people questioned his no-children stance. “I don’t have the patience for them, I guess.”

Miranda’s expression grew more and more doubtful with each word he said, so he decided to quit talking. Christ, he shouldn’t have let this damn pillow talk go on for this long anyway. He didn’t do emotional heart-to-hearts after sex. His emotions were locked up tight. Private thoughts, past mistakes, moments of self-doubt—he’d bottled all that shit up a long time ago and no way would he let Miranda pull the cork.

“I need my nicotine fix.” His voice was full of gravel, so he cleared his throat before continuing. “You want to come outside with me?”

Shaking her head, Miranda slowly slid out from beneath the sheet and rose from the bed. “I think I’ll head to my room.”

Her naked body made him forget every single thing they’d been talking about for the past thirty minutes. Long limbs sculpted with lean muscle tone, dark hair tumbling down her back, curves in all the right places. His mouth grew dry at the sight of her, and all the blood in his body traveled south and settled in his groin.

Miranda didn’t miss the thickening of his cock. “Down, boy. You have to wake up early.”

As he grabbed his boxers from the chair near the bed and pulled them on, his gaze shifted to the alarm clock on the end table. One fifteen. Crap. He had to be up in five and a half hours. And if he showed up exhausted again the way he had a few days ago, Becker would rip his head off. So, a quick smoke and then some sleep. Those were the only two items on the agenda for the rest of the night.

Of course, it would be easier to stick to the schedule if Miranda wasn’t parading around naked in front of him.

“Oh sweet Jesus,” he groaned as she bent over to pick up her discarded shirt.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, oblivious.

“Baby, you’re presenting your ass to me like a mare in heat. For the love of God, put on some clothes before I f**k you again.”

Her resounding laughter only succeeded in making his dick harder. “Next time,” he croaked.

She slipped her T-shirt over her head, the cotton fabric falling down to her knees. “Next time what?”

“Just that there’ll be one,” he reminded her. “Your words, babe.”

She visibly swallowed. “I know what I said.”