Perfect for You

groan, and she held on and went along for the ride. It was like eating Dreyer's lowfat vanilla ice cream when your favorite was Haagen Dazs dulce de leche. Pleasant but not nearly as satisfying.
    She became conscious of stirring in his nether regions. Not wanting to go there—literally or figuratively—she broke off their kiss, discreetly putting space between them. "Let's take our drinks into the living room."
    His smile held some emotion she didn't want to deal with so she ignored it, picked up her drink, and sat on one end of her large couch. After getting herself settled into the corner with her legs tucked under her, she took another sip and asked, "So what were you up to this last week? Did you go on any trips?"
    He shook his head. Sitting down at the other end of the couch, thankfully not any closer to her, he replied, "No trips this week, oddly enough. I don't feel quite right if I don't have to run off somewhere. I did spend some time with my nieces and nephews though. My sisters dropped them off at my place so they could have a girls' day out."
    "That was nice of you. How many are there?"
    "I have three nieces and two nephews ranging from ten down to two years old."
    "A handful."
    "And then some. But I love them." He looked at her peculiarly. "Do you like kids?"
    "Love them. Unfortunately, I can't indulge in them like you can. My sister is still is college, and Eve, my best friend, hasn't gotten with the program yet. I keep hassling her to make me an aunt."
    "Don't you want any for yourself?"
    "Sure," she said with a wave of her hand, "but I'm a firm believer in doing things the natural way, and you need to have a partner in order to get any results."
    "I think you'd make a great mother."
    "Uh, thanks."
    "You're the type of woman who should have at least half a dozen."
    "Really." She shifted uncomfortably. Okay, was the conversation getting weird or was it just her? Kids were great, and, yes, she wanted them—some day—but half a dozen?
    "Yes." Connor nodded earnestly. "You have an earth mother look about you."
    What did that mean? Didn't he know women would rather be told they looked like supermodels, not earth mothers? He had two sisters, for God's sake. Didn't they educate him?
    When she didn't say anything—what was there to say?—he continued. "I'd like to have kids too. The sooner the better." He pierced her with a gaze she refused to interpret. "I guess I feel my biological clock ticking."
    She looked around. Where did the real Connor go? This man sitting across from her was not the same man she had gotten to know. Earth mothers and biological clocks? Was she in an episode of the Twilight Zone? Was it invasion of the body snatchers?
    Apparently her silence gave him no clue that he was on the wrong track, because he kept going. "You would look so beautiful pregnant."
    She gaped at him. Was she mistaken or was he suddenly sounding like he was looking for a broodmare? "Look, Connor—"
    "You have ideal birthing hips too. You'll have an easy time, um, having them," he added with almost a grimace.
    "That's it." She whirled off the couch and stood up, her hands clenched on her hips. She couldn't help scowling at him in anger. After all, didn't he just tell her she had wide hips that were perfect for popping babies? "What the hell is all this crap about?"
    He looked bewildered. "I'm not sure what you mean."
    "This, this"—she waved her hands—" nonsense about my hips and me being an earth mother. I thought you liked me for who I am."
    If anything, Connor looked even more confused. "I do!"
    "It doesn't sound that way." She set down her drink before she was tempted to throw it in his face. "It sounds like all you were after was a faceless body to hatch children for you."
    " No ." He jumped to his feet and reached out to her with open hands. "No, of course not. You're so much more than that. I just thought you should know that I want a family too. The timing isn't an issue. In fact, I would prefer sooner as opposed to later."
    "Well, maybe you should—"
    "And I'm okay with a big one," he interrupted her. "I was thinking more in terms of three children, but I'm open to negotiation."
    She couldn't believe her ears. "Who are you negotiating with?"
    "You." He blinked like an owl.
    "Did I say I wanted to go into negotiation?" she asked shrilly. "Because I don't remember ever saying that my biological clock was set to self destruct."
    "Um, well..." His eyes refused to meet hers. "I can explain all of