was stupid, she knew. Before Tommy had offered to be her donor, she wasn’t concerned about being sexually attracted to the man she chose. But now that seemed to matter, somehow.
So maybe she should stop looking at donors with current profile pictures and focus on the ones who only had photos from childhood. Maybe that would solve her dilemma.
Unfortunately, it didn’t. None of the kid pics looked enough like Tommy when he was young to make her want to choose the grown-up donor.
Dang it, she thought. Tommy had doomed her, ruining her chances of accepting anyone else. But there was still a lot to consider. If she used Tommy as her donor, they needed to discuss every aspect of what the future would entail. They’d already agreed he wouldn’t play an active role as the father. But would he want to engage with the child in other ways? Or would he prefer to keep his identity hidden?
Whatever his decision, she was certain that they would always be friends. They’d know each other their entire lives. That was a bonus, particularly in a situation as sensitive as this one. Surely, between the two of them, they could make something like this work.
She could only hope that he hadn’t changed his mind. She wanted him to be the donor.
Did that mean she was ready to sleep with him, too? God help her, she honestly didn’t know.
Her phone pinged, signaling she had a text. She removed it from her shirt pocket. Tommy was up and wanted to come over now. She quickly replied to his message, as anxious as could be.
She considered changing her clothes, but decided to stay as she was, keeping it real. Her oversize men’s shirt had belonged to her grandpa, and she wore it hanging loose over a pair of floral-printed leggings. Her shoes were fuzzy green slippers she’d bought at an offbeat boutique somewhere—she couldn’t remember what city or state.
A short while later when the doorbell rang, she nearly skidded across the hardwood floor to answer it.
She flung open the door; the first thing she saw was both of her Pembroke Welsh corgis prancing on the porch. Typically, they came in and out through a doggy door in the den, but they were grinning at her as if they’d just rung the bell. Of course, it was Tommy who’d done it. He’d obviously let them into the front yard by way of a side gate.
The dogs scampered past her, but Tommy stood where he was, strikingly handsome in a simple straw Stetson. He towered over her five-foot frame. She always wished that she was taller, especially around him.
He shifted his booted feet. “How’re you doing, Sophie?”
“I’m okay.” She didn’t want to admit that she was a basket case. “Doing the best I can.”
“Me, too.” His eyebrows rose slightly. “Are you going to let me in?”
She wasn’t blocking the doorway, was she? She stepped back, realizing that she was. Struggling to get a grasp on her emotions, she led him to the living room.
He plopped onto the sofa, the leather upholstery creaking beneath his butt. “I hardly slept.”
“Me, neither.” She sat next to him, relieved that she wasn’t the only one who’d tossed and turned. But she couldn’t take any more small talk. “Are you still interested in being my donor?”
“I definitely am.” As sunlight spilled in from the windows, his eyes changed color, turning from green to brown to green again. “What about you? Do you want it to be me?”
Sophie nodded. “Yes, I do.”
“Good.” He removed his hat and tossed it on the coffee table, making his eyes more visible. But at least they’d settled on a color. “There’s a lot we have to discuss. Where do you want to start?” he asked.
With kissing you, her whirring mind answered. With tasting the sexy slant of your lips. Shaking away the traitorous thought, she said, “Let’s start with the type of donor you decided to be.”
He had a ready reply. “I want an open situation. No secrets, no lies. I don’t want to mimic my dad, having a child no one knows about. I’d prefer that everyone was aware of our arrangement, including the kid when he or she is old enough to understand.”
Sophie relaxed a little, feeling as if they were making headway. “I would’ve respected your wishes if you wanted to remain anonymous. But I agree that it would be better if everyone knew the truth.”
“If you want, we can join forces to tell the kid. When the time is right, we can explain that even though I’m not in the traditional father role, I’ll always be a family friend. With the way I travel, I won’t be around that much. But at least he or she will know who I am and that I care about his or her emotional well-being. Plus, we can share our past, that you and I grew up together. I think the child would appreciate knowing our history.” He smiled. “We can make this work. I know we can.”
Her heart warmed. “Thank you, Tommy.” She wanted to hug him for being so kind and conscientious. But she didn’t trust herself to wrap her arms around him, not while the issue of how and when they’d conceive the child hadn’t been resolved. She’d spent years keeping her desire for Tommy at bay, and she had to be careful.
He continued with his plan. “We’re going to need a legal document to seal our deal. I can ask my brother to handle it. But if you’d prefer to seek your own counsel, I understand.”
“I’m fine with Brandon representing both of us, if he’s okay with it.” He was like a brother, of sorts, to her, too. It was different with Tommy. There was absolutely nothing sisterly about her feelings for him.
Sophie frowned. Then why was she making such a fuss about sharing his bed?
Because he already had tons of women at his disposal, she warned herself, and she’d vowed to never be one of them.
Yes, but for the sake of conceiving her child, wouldn’t it behoove her to make love with him?
As her pulse beat mercilessly at her throat, she rubbed the goose bumps peppering her arm. How many times had she fantasized about climbing onto Tommy’s lap? Or sliding her hands down the front of his pants? Or making kittenish sounds in his ear? Sometimes she’d even thought about him when she was with other men, and she knew that was a terrible thing to do. Her last boyfriend had cheated on her, but in her low-down, dirty mind, she’d been unfaithful, too.
“Are you okay, Soph?”
She glanced up to find Tommy watching her. “I was just...”
He searched her gaze. “Making a decision about us?”
She nodded, struggling to keep her shameful appetite for him from running amok. “Maybe we should talk about—”
“Are you willing to sleep with me to make this happen? I don’t want to pressure you. Maybe we should—”
“I’ll sleep with you. But we’re not having a random affair.”
“I never said this was going to be random, Soph. We’ll be doing this to make a baby. Granted, I’ve always wanted you, but I’m not going to lose sight of our agenda. I’d still like for it to be romantic, though.”
She
