The Pairing (The Proposition #3)(7)



Megan bent over to kiss Mason’s cheek. “See you in a little while, sweetie.”

He grinned and then happily dodged her mother’s arms for her father’s instead, which made Megan smile. He was such a man’s man already. He loved sitting between her brothers on the couch and watching TV. While it was good that he had so many male role models, she only hoped he hadn’t inherited too much of his father’s personality.

After Megan watched them disappear in the crowd of family and friends waiting in the church alcove, she bypassed everyone by turning right and heading down the hallway. At the last door on the right, she knocked. “It’s me, Megan.”

Emma’s best friend, Casey, answered the door. “Well, if it isn’t the fairy godmother,” she mused with a grin. After Megan stepped inside, Casey threw her arms around her. Megan had only met her a few times, but it was hard not liking Emma’s vivacious and outgoing friend. Casey’s long brown hair was pulled back in a lose knot, and she wore a demure black slip dress and heels.

“So how’s it going?” Megan asked, gazing from Noah’s diapered but na**d form to Emma. She was feeding him a bottle while her upper body was draped in a towel. Peeking out from the covering, she saw Emma was wearing her signature color, green. As Noah sucked on his bottle, he twirled a strand of Emma’s auburn hair between his fingers. Both father and son were fans of Emma wearing her hair down.

Emma grinned. “Good, I guess. I mean, I don’t have a lot of experience with baptisms.”

Megan laughed and motioned to the towel and Noah. “It looks like you’re taking all the proper precautions—nothing like spit-up on your dress or his.”

With a nod, Emma replied, “Tell me about it. Especially since his gown is so old.” Megan eyed the lacy baptismal gown hanging on the closet door. She recognized it from pictures of Ankle’s baptism. He had worn it, and now it was being passed down to his son.

Casey snorted. “I’m sure Aidan wouldn’t appreciate you alluding to the fact his gown is an antique, thus in turn saying he’s old.”

Emma laughed. “No, I’m sure he wouldn’t. Of course, he’d probably argue that while the gown might not have held up, he still looks fabulous and much younger than his age.”

Megan smiled. “That sounds just like him.” She bent over Emma to rub one of Noah’s hands. He grabbed her thumb in his fist and held on for dear life.

“Aw, you love your godmother, don’t you Noah?” Emma asked.

Noah momentarily stopped sucking on the bottle to flash a quick smile, which warmed Megan’s heart. “He’s such a sweet boy,” she mused.

“And a charmer, just like his old man,” Casey mused.

“That too,” Megan agreed. Thinking about her position, she cocked her head at Casey. “Are you sure you’re fine with me being the godmother?”

Casey waved her hand dismissively. “Honey, the last thing I need is the responsibility. I plan on spoiling Noah rotten and corrupting him as only a good auntie can do!”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I’m very satisfied with both my choices, Megan. You don’t have to worry.”

“So who is the godfather again? I know he’s not part of the family.”

Casey gasped as her hand flew to her chest dramatically. “You mean, you’ve never met Dr. McDreamy Bollywood?”

Megan shrugged. “No, I haven’t. I mean, I’ve heard about him and how he flew Aidan home in time for Noah’s birth.” She noticed the pleading look that Emma exchanged with Casey. “Why? What should I know about him?”

Casey tapped her chin with her index finger. “Hmm, what should you know about the good godfather?” She winked at Megan. “First off, he is seriously delectable. I mean, the man is like sex on a stick. Tall, jet-black hair, dark eyes, and he’s built like a brick shithouse.”

Megan suddenly felt her interest piquing. She hadn’t imagined that the godfather would be good-looking. It had been such a long time since she had dated anyone. Scratch that—it had been a long time since she’d had sex with anyone. She’d spent the last two years completely dateless since she and Davis broke up. She could practically join one of the local parishes as a nun with how long she had abstained. “Really?”

“Mmm, hmm. He reminds me of that Bollywood actor John Abraham,” Casey said.

Emma snorted. “Since when do you watch Bollywood movies?”

“Since one of Nate’s friends asked us to an Indian film festival.” Casey grinned at Megan. “Besides the fact that he’s a serious looker, he’s also kind, compassionate, and caring—an overall wonderful man.”

“Really now?” Megan questioned.

“And he’s loaded because he’s a doctor.”

This man was sounding better and better by the minute. “Is he single?”

Emma made a strangled noise before Casey replied, “Oh, yeah, he’s single. He’s a widower actually.”

Megan pursed her lips at the prospect. Widowers usually fell into two categories—those who were still devastated by their wives’ deaths or those who were ready to have fun and live a little. She certainly hoped this Pesh guy fell into the second category. More than anything, she wanted to have a little fun herself.

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