“Did he have a family?” she asked.
Yeager shook his head. But her question was the perfect segue for where he needed to steer the conversation. Maybe she’d be able to guide him through this, after all.
“His dad died when he was still a baby and he lost his mom a couple of years ago. He didn’t have any brothers or sisters. It was another thing that bonded us when we first met, since I was an only child, too.”
“Sounds like you two were a couple of lone wolves who made your own pack,” Hannah said.
She lightly squeezed his arm and smiled a gentle smile. That was nice of her. Not many people tried that with Yeager, either.
“Yeah,” he said. “Back in the day, being lone wolves suited us. Hell, last month, being lone wolves suited us. He was no more the marrying kind than I am. But suddenly...” Yeager hesitated again. “Suddenly, being a lone wolf has its drawbacks. I mean, there’s nothing left of him in the world now, you know? Nothing left behind after his death that might bring comfort to the people who knew him and cared about him in life.”
“But you must have some wonderful memories,” Hannah said.
“I do. But that’s just it. All any of us who knew him has is memories. Memories that will gradually fade then die when we do. After that, there won’t be anything left of him at all. No indication that he ever even existed. He was such a larger-than-life person. He lived with such passion and exhilaration. For there to be nothing left now that was a part of him... That just seems wrong, you know?”
Hannah loosened her hold on Yeager’s arm but didn’t let go. There was something in her eyes now that told him she wasn’t following him. Then again, she wasn’t the kind of person who wanted to make her mark on the world. She’d said as much herself that time she’d told him what a prudent life she led.
But Yeager did want to make his mark on the world. He wanted to be remembered—and remembered well—long after he was gone. He wanted to leave behind a legacy of some kind. He’d never been sure exactly what kind of legacy, but it had to be something that people could point to and say, “Yeager Novak was here.” Something that would keep his name and his spirit alive for years. For generations. Hell, forever. He’d always assumed he had plenty of time to figure out the particulars. But now he understood, too well, that life was fleeting, and he’d damned well better make the best of it because it could be snatched away anytime, without any kind of warning.
“I guess I just always thought he was immortal.” Yeager tried again to explain. “That he’d go on forever. I thought both of us would. But now I know the clock is ticking on the immortality thing, and I realize that, if I died tomorrow, the same thing would happen to me that’s happened to him. There’d be nothing of me in the world anymore.”
“You want to leave behind a legacy after you’re gone,” she said.
He nodded, stunned that she’d used the same word he’d been thinking. “Yeah.”
“And you think a child would be a good legacy.”
“Yes.”
She hesitated a moment, her gaze never leaving his. “There are other kinds of legacies that would—”
“No, there aren’t,” he interrupted, fearful she might be reconsidering her offer. “Other legacies can deteriorate or fall apart or be stored somewhere and forgotten about. But a child to carry on after I’m gone will be a literal part of me. And then his—or her—children will be a literal part of me. And their children will be, too. And then their children, and their children, and their children...” He forced a smile then was surprised to realize it wasn’t forced at all. “When you get right down to it, Hannah, having a kid to carry on after you’re gone damned near makes you immortal.”
She smiled back. And something in that smile made Yeager feel better than he’d felt in a very long time. “I guess you’re right.”
“So I started thinking about that,” he continued. “And I started warming to the idea of fathering a child.” He might as well admit the rest, since that part had been as surprising as anything else. “I started warming to the idea of fathering your child.”
Because he’d thought about all the other women he knew who might be amenable to that—there were actually more than a few—and realized Hannah was the only one he could honestly imagine doing the job right.
“If,” he concluded, “like I said, the offer is still open.”
“It’s still open,” she assured him again, even more quickly than she had the first time.
“Then I’d like to humbly offer my chromosomes to your cause,” he told her.
He hesitated again, not sure how she was going to feel about the next part since it included conditions. He was sure she’d already had enough of those placed on her by her grandfather.
So, being careful for the first time he could remember, he said tentatively, “I have three conditions for my offer, though.”
She released his arm. She didn’t drop it like a hot potato or anything, but she did withdraw her hand. She also scooted a little bit away from him on the love seat and straightened her spine—a couple more telling gestures.
“What conditions?” she asked a little warily.
He didn’t blame her for her caution. But he wasn’t going to go into this thing lightly any more than she was.
“Number one,” he began, “I’d like you to name the child after the friend I lost.”
Her posture eased some. “Okay.”
“Don’t you want to make sure he didn’t have a weird name, or one that’s gender-specific?”
She smiled again; a softer smile that changed her whole demeanor. For the first time Yeager was seeing that she wasn’t all diligence and pragmatism. There was a lot of gentleness and warmth there, too.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “It’s a sweet, loving gesture you want to make, Yeager, and I would never say no to a sweet, loving gesture. There are too few of them in the world.”
“His name was Thomas Brennan,” Yeager said. “Tommy Brennan. I figure Brennan would suit a boy or girl.”
She let it settle in then nodded. “Brennan Novak. That’s a good name.”
“You don’t have to give your baby my last name,” Yeager said. Even though, for some reason, he suddenly kind of liked the idea.
“Yeah. I kinda think I do,” she said with a smile that was cryptic this time. “He or she will be Brennan Robinson Novak. That’s a very good name.”
“That is a very good name, now that you mention it,” he agreed, feeling strangely gentle and warm himself.
“Okay, so that’s settled,” she said. “What else?”
His second condition wasn’t going to be quite as easy to put on the table as the first. Even so, there was no reason to gloss over it. He might be seeing a softer side of Hannah this evening, but she was still the most practical woman he knew—something he suddenly kind of loved about her—and he knew she would appreciate his forthrightness.
“The second condition is that you and I have to make your baby the old-fashioned way, not with vials and test tubes and syringes. Having an adventurer’s legacy come about by syringe just isn’t very... I don’t know. Adventurous.”
“I guess I can see that.”
“I’d just prefer to ensure my legacy—and honor Tommy’s name—by having this baby come about through natural means and during an epic adventure. That just feels right for some reason. So you and I are going to have to have sex, Hannah. And we’re going to have do it in epic proportions on some kind of epic adventure. I hope your passport is up to date.”
He was relieved when she didn’t look like she wanted to negotiate on the matter. In fact, from her expression, it kind of looked as though she wanted to get started right away.
She blinked a few times then said, pretty amenably, “Okay. If we have to.”
“We do.”
She was silent for another moment. “What’s the third condition?”
The third condition was the only one he feared Hannah wouldn’t agree to, and it was the most important one. At least, to Yeager. But where her refusal of the first condition would have been disappointing, but not a deal-breaker, and her refusal of the second was never really in doubt—all modesty aside, since he didn’t have any, and he’d seen the way she looked at him in the shop when he was half-dressed—his third condition was sacrosanct. If she didn’t go along with this one, then he would pull out of the deal.
“I want to be...” he began then changed his mind. “No, I have to be a part of the child’s life.” He hurried to clarify before she could object. “I won’t be an intrusion in your life, Hannah. Hell, I don’t want to alter my life very much, either. I’ll definitely keep adventuring. You’ll call the shots when it comes to child rearing. But I want my son or daughter to know me, and I want to know my son or daughter. Yes, you will be the child’s primary parent. But I want regular visitation, and when the child is old enough, I want to include him or her in my travels whenever and wherever possible.”
He thought she would tell him she’d need time to think about that. Ask if she could she sleep on it and get back to him tomorrow. Instead she told him without hesitation, “No problem.”
His surprise that she conceded so easily must have been obvious, because she quickly explained.
“Yeager, I’m the last person to deny a child the right to know his or her parents, since I never knew my own and would have loved nothing more than to have had them in my life. I mean, yeah, it sounds like my father left a lot to be desired as a human being, but I would have still liked the opportunity to know him. Or at least know who he was when I was growing up. Good or bad, a lot of our identity is linked to our parents and where they come from. I never had a chance to know that part of my identity. And I never will. Of course I won’t deny you the chance to be a part of your child’s life. And I won’t deny your child a chance to be a part of your life.”
Yeager didn’t know what to say. So he only said, “Thanks.”
For a long time they sat on the love seat, staring at each other, as if neither knew what to do next. Then again, speaking for himself, Yeager had no idea what to do next. Naturally, he knew the mechanics that went into making a baby. But he also knew there were other things to consider beyond the act itself. Things like timing and opportunity, for instance. He had a pretty hectic schedule mapped out for the next six months. Not that he thought they’d need the full six months to conceive, since they were both young and healthy, but he did need to make some arrangements for the foreseeable future where the workings of Hannah’s biological clock were concerned. He’d be there for her whenever she needed him, but, as was the case with living life, he needed some kind of timetable to work with for generating life, too.
“So,” he finally said, “what do we do next?”
She lifted her shoulders a little self-consciously then let them drop. When she did, her shirt shifted enough to drop over one shoulder, exposing the delectable skin of her collarbone and the faint upper curve of one breast. In addition to having beautiful eyes, Hannah had some beautiful skin. Even if some of it was, at the moment, clothed in cartoon sheep.
“Well, you said we have to have sex,” she replied softly, “so I guess we have sex.”
Yeager was still pondering the creaminess of her breast when her words finally registered and, bizarrely, he knew a moment’s panic. “Wait, what? You mean right now?”
Why was he panicking? He should have been—and normally would have been—standing up to go to work on his fly by now. But he could tell he wasn’t the only one responding uncharacteristically. Hannah was blushing furiously. And seeing that made something inside him that hadn’t been warm in a very long time go absolutely incandescent. He’d never seen a woman blush before. Certainly not with the adeptness with which Hannah managed it. And where before a woman blushing would have been off-putting, with her, it was...not. On the contrary...
“No, not right now,” she said. “I’m not... I won’t be...” She expelled a restless sigh. “My body has a schedule for this kind of thing,” she finally said.
“Yeah, I know that much,” he assured her. “But I need to know if I should book an extra ticket for my trip to Argentina next week or if we’ll be...you know...before then.”
You know? he echoed incredulously to himself. Had he just referred to sex as you know? What, was he twelve years old? Hell, he hadn’t even referred to sex as you know when he was twelve.
Hannah blushed again. And that hot place inside him grew hotter still. What was going on with his body tonight? She was the one who was supposed to be experiencing physiological changes, not him.
“It won’t be before next week,” she told him. “I’ve mapped out my cycle for the next three months as best I can, and although there’s going to be some give-and-take there, because I’m not exactly regular, I can say that the middle of next week will be prime time. But I can’t go to Argentina with you,” she added. “I don’t have a passport.”
She didn’t have a passport? Yeager marveled. What kind of person didn’t have a passport? Oh, right. A seamstress in Sunnyside, New York, who had to work two jobs to make ends meet.
“Okay, we can get around that,” he said. “I can send one of my senior agents on the Argentina trip in my place and stay here in the States. But you need to get a passport ASAP in case this first time doesn’t work. Like I said, I really think, to honor Tommy’s spirit and make this a legacy in the truest sense, the child should be conceived on an epic adventure.”
“And I think that’s a gallant and honorable gesture,” Hannah told him. “But you need to find something epic to do here in New York. Because I can’t take time off from Cathcart and Quinn.”
“We have to go someplace other than New York. There’s no epic adventure to be had here.”
She gaped at him. “Are you out of your mind? New York is nothing but epic adventures. Have you taken the subway lately? Walked through the Garment District after dark? Eaten one of those chimi-churro-changa-chiladas from Taco Taberna? Nobody gets out alive after ingesting one of those things.”
“Look, I’ll figure out something. But you’re going to have to take some time off from work next week, because we’re going on an adventure, and that means getting out of New York. Do you have a specific day for us to...?” He would not say you know again. “A specific day for us to, um...”
“Wednesday,” she hurriedly replied.
“Great,” he said. “That gives me a few days to figure out where we’ll be going.”
“But I can’t afford to take any days off from work,” she insisted. “I barely save anything from my paycheck as it is. Speaking of, I don’t have enough money to travel anywhere, anyway. I’m not a billionaire’s granddaughter yet. Not financially, at least. I need that paycheck, and I can’t lose my job in case you and I aren’t successful at—”
“Oh, we’ll be successful,” he stated in no uncertain terms.
“You’ll excuse me if I’m not as full of bravado as you are,” she said.
“It’s not bravado I’m full of,” he assured her.
She sighed. “Fine. You’re a raging tower of testosterone.”
“Damn straight.”
For the first time that evening she looked a little defeated. “Maybe I’m not quite as confident about my own contribution to the venture as you are of yours.”
He wanted to tell her she had nothing to worry about there. Hannah Robinson was more woman than most women he knew. Funny that he was only now noticing that. “If it will help, I could talk to your bosses for you. Tell them I need you to do some work for me out of town for a couple of days or something and that I’ll make it worth their while.”
She was shaking her head before he ev
en finished. “I appreciate it, but I’ll talk to Mr. Cathcart and Mr. Quinn myself. Maybe they’ll let me work over next weekend to make up for being out a couple of days during the week.”
“But you shouldn’t have to—”
“It’s okay, Yeager. I’ve made my own way in the world this long. I can take care of myself.”
He remembered how she’d told him she’d grown up in New York’s foster care system. She hadn’t gone into detail about it. But anyone who’d gone through something like that and come out on the other side as happy and well-adjusted as Hannah seemed to be could definitely take care of herself. There was a part of Yeager, though, that really wanted to help her out. He was surprised at the depth of his disappointment that she wouldn’t let him.
He pushed those thoughts away. For now. Something told him he’d be coming back to them in the not too distant future. “So I should make plans for us to be away for...how long?” he asked.
Her gaze deflected from his, moving to something over his right shoulder, and she bit her lip in the thoughtful way that had intrigued him so much at the shop that day. It had the same heated effect on him now, except stronger, making a part of him twitch that had never twitched in Hannah’s presence before. Interesting.
“Well, according to my reading,” she said, “There’s a three-day window for me to be at peak, and it’s best for you to wait twenty-four hours between attempts to, um, replenish your, uh, stock.”
Yeah, right. Like that was going to be necessary for him. “Okay, so we’ll need three nights.” For some reason he suddenly kind of liked the idea of spending that much time with Hannah. “We can leave early Tuesday morning and come back Friday. Let me see what I can arrange.”
“But—”
“Kauai is the obvious choice for domestic adventure,” he decided immediately. “The twelve-hour flight to Hawaii makes that kind of difficult, under the circumstances, though.”
Baby in the Making Page 6
