Sapphire Falls: Going Rate for Mr. Right (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Jessie Evans

  “Great things. The hotel hasn’t been the same since you left. The spunkiness level at the front desk is down at least fifty percent. Is this the call telling me you’re coming back to town at the end of the summer, so I don’t have to hire my maternity leave replacement full-time?”

  “Sadly, no,” she said, nibbling her lip. “Or maybe not so sadly. I’ve sort of…met someone. Here in Sapphire Falls.”

  “Really?” Layla sounded surprised but covered it by adding in an enthusiastic voice. “Well, that’s great! Tell me all about him. Is he okay with the whole single mom plan and everything?”

  “Um, well, he’s kind of the sperm donor.”

  “What!” Layla sucked in a breath. “Oh my God, you’re kidding me.”

  “No, we met and things just clicked in a totally weird way. But it feels so right, Layla. Noah is so sweet and understanding and—”

  “And sexy. He’s a total hunk, right?”

  “Yes, he’s a total hunk,” she said, her cheeks heating as she remembered what it felt like to be pinned beneath him on the quilt last night. “But he’s also smart and gentle and crazily, he seems to feel the same way about me that I feel about him. Like there’s this connection between us that we can’t ignore.”

  Layla made a thoughtful sound. “And why is that crazy, babe? You’re a pretty impressive package, yourself. Sweet, beautiful, smart, funny, and one of the best friends I’ve ever had.”

  Yasmin blinked against the unexpected stinging at the backs of her eyes. “Well, thanks. But I’ve also proven I’m not always the best judge of character, Layla. What if I’m making a mistake, taking this guy at face value?”

  “This is about Clint, right?” Layla asked, her voice sobering. But she had every reason to be sober. Clint had killed her brother-in-law’s first wife and left scars on the Lawson family that would never completely heal, no matter how many years passed or how many new loves were found or new babies were born.

  “I can’t pretend it didn’t happen, Lay. I can’t pretend I didn’t want to settle down and play house with a serial killer.”

  “No, you wanted to settle down and play house with a kind, generous, handsome, seemingly normal guy who knew everyone’s name and never let your drink get empty. Clint put on a very good front, Yasmin. No one saw through him. It took a psychic to see him for what he really was.”

  “I know, but—”

  “There are no buts in this situation,” Layla said firmly. “And you can’t let that nightmare haunt you for the rest of your life. You deserve a wonderful guy, Yazz. And if your gut is telling you this Noah person might be the one, you owe it to yourself to give him a chance.”

  “But how can I know that this time is really different?” she asked, pulling her knees to her chest and gazing out at the robin’s egg blue sky, praying for a sign. “How do I know I won’t live to regret taking a chance with Noah the same way I regret all the other losers I’ve loved and lost. Maybe I would be better off convincing him to be my donor and parting as friends. I’m ready to get started on the rest of my life, Layla, not waste another year or more waiting to see if this guy is the right guy and being disappointed for the umpteen millionth time.”

  Layla clucked her tongue. “Sounds to me like someone’s got a bad case of the chicken shits.”

  Yasmin wrinkled her nose. “I am not chicken. And even if I were, so what? Don’t I have a right to be afraid? Maybe even an obligation to be afraid?”

  “You have every right to be afraid, and believe me, I know what it’s like to lose faith in your own judgment, but you’re not a coward. You’re one of the strongest people I know. And the Yasmin who could make a cowboy blush from his hat to his boots with a wink and a smile isn’t going to be happy living life alone. Not long term.”

  “But—”

  “Tell me one thing—when you’re with this Noah, what does it feel like? Is it butterflies and nerves and the ground tipping beneath your feet?”

  Yasmin frowned. “Well, no. From the moment I met him, I felt…safe with him. Like we’ve known each other for a long time. There’s electricity, and attraction for sure, but no nerves. Is that crazy?”

  “No.” Layla hummed happily. “That’s the way it was with Cole. It’s like the moment I met him my soul knew that I’d found home.”

  A deep masculine voice murmured in the background and Layla giggled. “Cole says hi, by the way. We’re nursing our coffees while the baby sleeps in.”

  “How is little chubby cheeks?” Yasmin asked, grateful for a chance to change the subject. “Still disgustingly adorable?”

  “Yes. Completely.” Layla launched into a rapt, new-mommy update, filling Yasmin in on all of Baby Lawson’s feats of cuteness until a tiny cry sounded from somewhere in the background.

  “Speak of the devil,” Yasmin said laughing. “Guess her ears were burning, too.”

  Layla laughed. “I guess. All right, I’ve got to run, but call me later if you need to talk some more. I’m always here for you babe, no matter how many miles there are between us.”

  “Will do,” Yasmin said. “And thank you, Layla. You give me hope.”

  “I’m glad,” Layla said. “Talk soon.”

  Yasmin hung up and stood, crossing the cozy kitchen to fetch more coffee, then turning back to gaze out the window onto the tidy front yard and the fields beyond. Fields that were peaceful and lovely but offered no whisper of a sign as to which path she should choose.

  “And since when have you stood around waiting for a sign,” she said, slugging back a drink of creamy, sugary coffee. She didn’t know if it was the caffeine or the talk with an old friend, but she suddenly wasn’t in the mood to wait around for the universe to nudge her in one direction or the other.

  Without giving herself a chance to second guess her gut, Yasmin picked up the landline and dialed her parents’ house.

  “Good morning sunshine,” Sada said, answering on the first ring. “How did you sleep? You want to come over for eggs and rice?”

  “Thanks, but I can’t Mom,” Yasmin said. “I’ve got things to do for work this morning, so I need to stay here and jump online in a minute, but I was wondering if you could do me a quick favor.”

  Sada made that growling sound that was her mother’s version of clearing her throat. “Maybe. Maybe not. I have a lot to do to get the babies ready, Yasmin. They’re judging top cock today.”

  Yasmin fought a smile. Top cock. Only her mother could say those two words without a hint of humor in her voice. “It’s not a big favor. I just wanted to ask if you could send my sperm donor’s information over to your friend in the Omaha FBI. You said she could run a background check for us, right?”

  “Yes,” Sada said cautiously. “Does this mean Noah Riley has agreed to be the father?”

  “No, he hasn’t agreed. And if he does, he won’t be the father, Mom, we’ve talked about this. A donor has no claim over a child conceived with donated sperm.”

  “Doesn’t seem natural,” her mother muttered, clearly having as much trouble wrapping her mind around the situation as she had when Yasmin first announced her plan. But to Sada’s credit, her confusion hadn’t stopped her from supporting her daughter one hundred percent. “But all right, I will send his information over to Sarah and tell her to put a rush on it before my daughter gets pregnant on Monday.”

  “I don’t know that it will happen on Monday,” Yasmin said, rolling her eyes. “He hasn’t said yes yet, and even if he does, there’s no guarantee it will work the first time. Some people have to go through the procedure several times before they conceive.”

  “At two thousand dollars a pop, you better hope it takes the first time.” Sada made her growling, throat clearing, universal sound of disapproval a second time. “There are ways to get this stuff for free, you know, Yasmin. It’s like that song, All I Want to Do Is Make Love to You. Listen to the lyrics. It spells it all out.”

  Yasmin’s lips curved. “So you’re saying I should go pick up a hot young hi
tchhiker and bang him all night long, Mom?”

  “I don’t want to know the specifics,” Sada said in a voice that made Yasmin certain her mother was shaking her head wearily from side to side, wondering what she did to earn such a daughter. “I’m just saying I don’t want you to be pregnant and in the poor house by the time all of this is done.”

  “I won’t be, Mom,” Yasmin said, smile fading. “Trust me. I’m going to do right by this kid, no matter how he or she is conceived. And you’re going to love being a grandma.”

  Sada sighed. “I’ll love being a grandma in a few years, too, precious girl. If you decide you want to wait and find a nice man. I know one is out there, Yasmin. Your happy ending was written in the stars the day you were born.”

  “Maybe I’m just tired of waiting for it, Mom.”

  “When you’re tired is when the end of the road is close. For all you know the one meant for you could be right around the corner, waiting for you to look up from all your plans and see him standing there.”

  Yasmin didn’t know what to say to that, only that her mother’s words sent images of Noah Riley’s face flashing through her head.

  Sada humphed. “All I’m saying is that I don’t think you should give up hope. You’re such a good girl. Someday a man will come along who is smart enough to recognize a treasure when he sees it.”

  Yasmin leaned against the counter, wishing she’d taken her mother up on that invitation for breakfast, after all. It would be nice to be within hugging distance right now. “Thanks, Mom. And thanks for forwarding that name on. It means a lot that you support me. Even when you don’t completely understand me.”

  “I don’t even completely understand your father and I’ve been married to him forever and two days,” Sada said with a sniff. “The only people I completely understand have feathers and live in a chicken coop.”

  Yasmin laughed. “Yeah, well tell Sampson good luck for me. I hope the bastard wins top cock.”

  Her mother cursed in Chinese. “He’s no bastard! I can trace his bloodline back seven generations, little girl! He’s more purebred than we are, that’s for sure.”

  “Love you, Mom,” Yasmin said, hanging up before her mother could start reciting the long and illustrious lineage of her prized rooster. Pouring herself a third cup of coffee and a cup of water, she fetched her laptop from her desk and settled at the kitchen table to work through her virtual assistant duties.

  But even as she crafted status updates and organized press releases, a part of her was daydreaming about Noah Riley and counting the minutes until she would round a corner and find him waiting just for her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Noah

  Yasmin stood at the top of the rise just after mile marker three and studied the mud pit they’d helped create underneath an epic set of monkey bars with a critical eye. True to her word, she’d seemed to love getting elbow-deep in the muck and their portion of the course was looking goopier than any of the others Noah could see from their lookout post.

  “I think we need to leave the hoses under the monkey bars and in between the trenches running for a few more minutes,” she said, swiping her arm across her lip, leaving a streak of mud behind. “I’m telling you, these things dry up a lot overnight, and I don’t want you to be accused of skimping on the mess your first time helping with a course.”

  He grinned as he reached out, wiping the smear from her face. “There, that was it.”

  “What?” she asked, grinning.

  “My last clean finger. From now on I won’t be able to help wipe away your mud mustache.”

  She arched a brow. “What? You don’t think I can pull off the mud mustache?”

  Before he could insist that if anyone could, it was her, they were interrupted by a pair of camo-wearing men on four-wheelers. Despite their alleged “no chicks” policy, Spark and Steve hadn’t made a fuss about Yasmin tagging along to help out. With the mud run less than twenty-four hours away and several of their usual volunteers down with a nasty case of Partied-Too-Hard-At-The-Festival-Itis they seemed grateful for the extra pair of hands.

  “You two need a ride back to the start of the course?” Spark asked. “We’re all finished up on our end.”

  Noah raised a brow in Yasmin’s direction, but she shook her head. He turned back to the other men with a wave of his hand. “You go on ahead. We’re going to stay and make sure the mud here has the perfect consistency before we head out.”

  Steve gave them a thumbs up. “Commitment to mess. That’s what I like to see.”

  “It’s all Yasmin,” Noah said. “She’s a mud-making animal. You should let her supervise a section next year.”

  Spark shot Yasmin an appraising look and nodded. “All right, short stack. If you’re up for it.”

  “Short stack?” She bristled beside him. “I’ll let that slide this time because you’re inviting me to come play in the mud. But next time…” She lifted an ominous little fist and Spark laughed.

  “Gotcha, killer. You two have fun. See you at the starting line tomorrow.”

  Spark and Steve turned their four-wheelers around and headed back toward the start of the course. Noah watched them cruise over the hills before turning back to Yasmin to find her watching him with a calculating look.

  “What?” he asked, fighting the urge to reach out and pull her close, the same urge that had been making his fingers itch since the moment she showed up for their date wearing a tight little pair of spandex running shorts and a simple brown tank top that for some reason made the naughtier half of his imagination run wild.

  “I was just thinking. Now that we’re alone…”

  His brows drifted higher on his forehead. “Yes?

  She blinked innocently. “I mean, how can we tell our section’s mud is muddy enough unless we really get in there and do a comprehensive test?”

  Noah made a thoughtful noise. “So you want to test the mud?”

  “I know Spark and Steve are against running the obstacles until the day of the course, but this wouldn’t be cheating. It would be quality control.” She propped her hands on her hips and bounced lightly on the balls of her feet. “And we could even add a little wager to make things more fun.”

  “What kind of wager do you have in mind? Loser pays for ice cream?”

  She shook her head. “I was thinking of something a little more exciting. Say, if you’re the first one down the hill, across the monkey bars, and back on the grass on the other side of the trenches, I’ll cook you an authentic Chinese-Nebraskan meal tonight at my place.”

  He smiled. “Chinese-Nebraskan, huh? Sounds exotic.”

  “It’s a unique fusion of homemade Chinese noodles and Nebraskan brisket combined with whatever vegetables happen to be lying around in the veggie crisper. And sometimes homemade barbecue sauce, if my mom was feeling really creative and disgusting on any given Sunday.”

  His mouth stretched wider at the edges. “Skip the barbecue sauce and you’ve got a deal. And in the unlikely event that you win, what would you like as your prize?”

  “Oh, smack talk,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Keep it coming, Riley. That only kicks my fierce up a notch, and you really don’t want me to win this race.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “Because if I win, you have to take me to the dance Sunday night and not run away to hide in the shadows, no matter how crazy I get on the floor.”

  He crossed his arms at his chest. “That would involve changing my plane flight, which I’m prepared to do,” he added quickly, “but only if we add to my prize.”

  She nodded. “All right. What more do you want? I could cook dinner in my apron and nothing else.”

  He bit his bottom lip. “Tempting. Very, very tempting. But I was thinking along more practical lines. If I win, I get dinner tonight and you spend tomorrow helping me house hunt.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “House hunt for…you?”

  “For me,” he confirmed, shifting closer. “I go
t to thinking last night, and if I’m going to be moving here eventually, it makes sense to go ahead and find a place. Especially if the move might happen sooner than I expected. And I could use a local to make sure I don’t buy a house next to the town crazy or the lady who plays show tunes at the crack of dawn every morning.”

  “I see what this is,” she said, nodding as her eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to psych me out. Well, it won’t work, Riley. I’m already two steps ahead of you.”

  “Oh yeah? How do you figure that?”

  “If you win, why don’t we skip the house hunting and just plan on you moving in with me?” she said, sending his brows shooting toward his hairline. “Yeah, that’s right. I said it. That happened! So think on that while you run. Ready, set, go!”

  And then she was off like a bat out of hell, sprinting toward the edge of the hill and dropping onto her bottom to slide down into the mud bog. By the time Noah recovered from his shock enough to get moving, she was already climbing the ladder to the monkey bars and starting across. Noah splashed down into the water and slogged his way across the ground toward her, admiring how strong she was. She looked like a kid up there, legs churning as her toned arms carried her across the muddy water below.

  He climbed the ladder and started after her, quickly closing the distance between them, but halfway across his hand slipped on a slick rung and he went down with a splash, cold water rising to his thighs and soaking the last few dry places on his shorts.

  Yasmin, who had just reached the ladder on the other side, turned to point a finger his way, “Now you have to go back to the beginning of the bars and start over! Those are the rules, Riley!”

  “Big talk from a cheater, North!” he shouted, even as he turned, running back toward the start of the monkey bars. The second time, he crossed swiftly and without mishap, but by the time he hit the first of the trenches on the other side, Yasmin was already crawling onto the grass at the finish line, thrusting a clenched fist into the air before she collapsed onto the ground on her back.