world steadied. Then she stepped back and life went back to whatever could be called normal.
Hamish put a pouting Stephanie into a taxi and after a distracted goodbye kiss he headed back inside and poured himself a large glass of merlot. As he sat in his study and opened the legal document that Georgie had left him, he hoped he’d find the clause that would provide the perfect excuse for him to say an absolute and indisputable no to her request that he give her a baby.
God, he’d wanted to say no, but every time he’d tried, it had been like being in a fight and having two guys grab hold of his arms to prevent him from taking a swing. He’d opened his mouth but the look on her face when she’d talked about not having a family had stopped him dead. It shouldn’t have because this was as much about him as it was about her, and he knew exactly why he should say no.
He’d failed to keep Aaron safe, failed miserably at being a big brother, and wasn’t that the training ground for fatherhood? He couldn’t be responsible for a child.
So tell her that.
But that would involve telling her about his little brother, about the day that was etched into his mind like a tattoo. He wasn’t prepared to do that. He’d found a way to live with his guilt and resurrecting the past had no value at all. Besides, Georgie wasn’t asking him to be a hands-on father. She’d been very clear on that. He’d be a donor known only to her and with no connection to the baby other than his donated DNA.
Could he do that? He stared out the window. He knew men who prided themselves on being sperm donors and didn’t seem to give a moment’s thought to the fact that they were creating a child—a human being who one day might knock on their door, wanting to connect. Hell, he didn’t want that to happen. He wasn’t father material and he wasn’t letting another child down. He knew the catastrophic consequences of that.
He took a slug of wine, wishing Georgie had never asked him such a huge favour and yet he knew and understood exactly why she had.
What had started out all those years ago as him encouraging ‘the quiet girl’ at college to get involved had unexpectedly turned into a special friendship that had got them both through the tough life of being a med student, the fraught life of an intern and had survived both of them taking slightly different paths in medicine. Not to mention weathering their relationships with other people. Their bond was stronger than superglue and he’d stopped counting how often she’d randomly called him just at a time when he’d needed some support.
Georgie was the antithesis of him. He’d act first, think second. She’d weigh up the pros and cons, which was a great strategy for a doctor but not when it was a movie or a quick meal choice, but once she committed to something she gave it her all. He loved that about her. She’d put herself out of her comfort zone more than once, hiking the overland track in Tasmania with him and learning to surf. Throughout the years they’d always been there for each other, although up until now they’d never really tested the promise they’d made nine years ago.
No matter where I am, if you need me, I’m only a phone call away. He’d made that offer to her in good faith and believing in it utterly.
Son, never make a promise you don’t intend to keep.
He gave an ironic groan. He was pretty sure his father hadn’t been thinking about sharing genes when he’d hammered that lesson into him between the ages of five and twenty. Not even the thought of sex was enough to allay his anxiety. Not that he was against the idea of sex with Georgie. He’d never pursued it because their friendship had always come first and he’d never wanted to risk losing it, but, hell, he was male and there’d been times when he’d wondered what it would be like to bury his head in those amazing breasts. The night they’d graduated he’d got close and then common sense had made them both jump away from each other with an embarrassed laugh, both agreeing that it was a bad idea generated by too much champagne.
He rubbed his face with his hands, feeling the rasp of stubble against his palms. If he applied logic to the problem and removed the emotions, it came down to a single fact. His best friend, a woman who would do anything for him, needed his help. Help he’d offered in the past. Help he was honour-bound to provide.
But where was the line drawn on the statute of reasonable friendship requests?
As much as he was concerned about the impact that him saying yes would have on their friendship, he was more worried about the impact of saying, no.
Georgie held her breath as she sat opposite Hamish in a quiet café overlooking the bay. It had been thirty hours since she’d asked him to be a sperm donor and she’d almost become obsessive compulsive in that time, constantly checking her phone. Last night as she’d sat curled up on the couch—there’d been no point going to bed because sleep had been beyond her—she’d lurched between He agreed to read the paperwork, which means he’s considering it and will say yes, and the more resounding, He’ll say no.
The fact he’d finally called her and said, ‘I need to ask you some questions,’ had fired hope into her, but it was now tinged with dread as she watched Hamish’s clear and steady gaze move over the printed words. Her heart bounced against her ribs and the sound echoed in her ears, deafening her.
Was it too much to ask of him?
Maybe. No. It had never occurred to her not to ask him. He was her best friend and it made total sense to her that he would be the sperm donor for her child. He had great genes, a caring nature and for reasons he’d never really elucidated, despite some gentle probing over the years, he didn’t want to be a father.
She, on the other hand, wanted a baby so much it hurt. She was an experienced doctor, enjoyed family medicine and had been told hundreds of times she was great with kids so she knew she could do this parenting gig on her own and not involve him at all. It was a win-win situation all round.
Hamish glanced up from the second page of the document with a familiar wicked gleam in his eyes that she hadn’t seen since she’d floored him with her request. ‘So, no sex?’
Her usually deep laugh sounded high-pitched and nervous.
She’d be lying to herself if she said she’d never fantasised about what sex would be like with Hamish. What woman wouldn’t when faced with six feet two of a toned, tanned and buff surfer-fit body? But that had been a long time ago and she’d never been one for casual sex, especially if it risked their friendship.
‘Sex is too random and this is too important to leave to chance. I want the back-up of science and technology to maximise my chances of getting pregnant quickly. I’ll have ultrasounds, and thirty-six hours before the intra-uterine insemination, I’ll jab myself with follicle-stimulating hormone.’
His shoulders squared as they tightened with apprehension and his expression became serious once again. ‘So I travel to the IVF clinic in Tasmania to make my deposits?’
‘Yup. They have movies and magazines.’ She tried to lighten his mood. ‘That’s the fun part for you.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Hardly, but we won’t go there. Why Tasmania?’
‘Privacy for both of us. The medical community here is too small and everyone knows everyone. Even if we went to Melbourne, we’d run into people from university. I’ll pay for your air fares and your time because I don’t want you embarrassed or compromised. I figured you could go down for a couple of weekends, enjoy a mini-break on the apple isle and bank a few deposits,
