“Sure. Why not?” He tilted his head nearly all the way to the side, as if he was sizing her up somehow. “Remember when I used to help you with your chemistry homework?”
“Yes, of course.” He was good with numbers. Math and science came easily to him. “But this isn’t a school project.”
“I know.” He righted the angle of his head. “But we’re like family, you and me. The least I can do is support you on this however I can.”
“Thank you.” Suddenly she wanted to touch him, to put her hands where they didn’t belong, to skim his exquisite jawline, to run her fingers through his still-damp hair. “That means a lot to me.” More than it should. It even made her imagine him being the donor, which was about the dumbest thought she could’ve had. She wiped it out of her mind, but it spiraled back, undermining her common sense.
He asked, “Should we do it tonight?”
She struggled to comprehend what he meant. Her brain wasn’t behaving. She was still stuck on the stupid notion of him being the donor, which was complete and utter lunacy.
“Should we do what?” she finally asked.
“Look through the sperm-bank sites. I’ll ask Chef to make a batch of his double-chocolate-chip cookies, and I’ll bring them with me. I know how chocolate helps center you.”
“Yes, let’s do it,” she said, finally managing to rid her jumbled mind of the idea of having his child. “Let’s go through the sites tonight.” She needed to find a donor, a stranger.
And she was going to make sure it was someone who looked nothing like Tommy, someone who didn’t have the slightest thing in common with him.
Copyright © 2018 by Sheree Henry-Whitefeather
ISBN-13: 9781488092435
Blame It On Christmas
Copyright © 2018 by Janice Maynard
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Blame It On Christmas (Southern Secrets Series Book 1) Page 19
