Between You and Me(27)

"I do," he said, not breaking their gaze. "C'mon, you know I'm right.  Last thing you need right now is us starting something up like this.  Didn't you tell me your first doctor appointment is tomorrow?"

She didn't like it, and wasn't sure she fully agreed with it, but had to  admit she'd thought along those lines herself before his kisses had  turned her brain to mush and her insides to jelly. With a heavy sigh,  she nodded and pulled back from him. "Pretty early, in fact. I should go  inside and get into bed."

Logan growled, his head falling back against the leather seat. "Had to  put an image like that in my head right before you leave. You, climbing  into bed . . . not nice, Tess. Not nice."                       
       
           



       

She laughed lightly, and he grinned back at her. Their eyes held for a  long beat and she took a slow, deep breath, exhaling it before she said,  "Good night, Logan. Thanks again for a great day."

"Back at you," he said. "Good night, Tess. Sleep well. Good luck tomorrow."

With a sweet smile, she climbed out of his truck and into the cold night.





Chapter Eleven

Tess got home from her morning yoga class at noon. She poured some food  into Bubbles's bowl, then showered, all the while absently humming the  last song she'd heard in the car. When she emerged from the bathroom in  her fluffy wine-colored robe, her long hair wrapped up turban style on  top of her head, she sank onto her bed. Yesterday, she'd spent most of  the afternoon painting, but she wasn't in the mood today. She had to  check her work email, have some lunch, maybe make a few work calls. She  also wanted to text Logan and thank him again for the day before.

They'd gone skiing again, and like the first time, followed an afternoon  on the slopes with a long meal and easy conversation. They told each  other stories about their siblings, chatted about work, and he talked a  bit about his mother's condition, which apparently was declining. When  he confessed that he was worried his mom would start campaigning in town  to find him a girlfriend so she could quickly marry him off before she  died, Tess had teased him mercilessly, anything to take the sad look out  of his eyes. And it had worked.

Since the ten days since their first skiing excursion, he'd started  texting her on the days he didn't come by her house to take out the  trash. Only once a day, just a short and sweet Checking on you.  Everything okay? which she would answer, and they'd end up texting for a  few minutes. Getting to know each other, kind of friends, even though  the attraction between them simmered at a low boil whenever they were  together. She liked him. She trusted him.

She picked up the phone to text him and noticed that the light was  blinking. She checked the message; Dr. Fuller from the fertility clinic  had called while she was in the shower. Excitement and nervousness  rocketed through her.

Her initial visit to the fertility clinic ten days ago had been  interesting. She'd had a brief physical exam and filled out a million  forms. She'd had a lengthy interview with the doctor, who'd fielded her  many questions and filled in some blanks. Dr. Fuller was a warm, clearly  knowledgeable person; Tess felt like she was in good hands. Her gut  told her she'd found the right place and the right people to help make  her dreams come true.

Since then, she'd pored over donor profiles. The clinic was at the top  of their game when it came to both medical and psychosocial profiles,  one of the main reasons she'd picked them. Their screening process was  extensive, which further inspired her confidence. Hell, the cost didn't  matter to her. The basics of the procedure could be done anywhere. She  wanted to ensure quality, across the board, and this clinic had that  going on. She was in.

Sitting back on her bed, she tucked her legs beneath her as she returned  Dr. Fuller's call. She was on the line in under two minutes. "Hi, Tess,  how are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you." Tess's heart rate picked up a notch, a new rush of anticipation whooshing through her. "Why'd you call?"

"I wanted to share your test results with you," Dr. Fuller said. She  sounded calm and at ease, which put Tess more at ease. "Just the basics,  which are, you're in top shape. You're very healthy, and I think you  won't have any problems conceiving."

Tess's heart soared. "Really? That's wonderful!"

"Now, understand," Dr. Fuller cautioned, "that doesn't necessarily mean  you'll get pregnant on your first try. It's absolutely possible, but you  are in your late thirties, so that's the only risk factor here. Your  blood work is great, your hormone levels are right where they need to be  . . . I'd bet once we start, you'll be pregnant within six months.  Hopefully less, but the point is, you don't have anything to show you'll  have a real problem getting pregnant. Okay?"                       
       
           



       

"That's great," Tess said, practically bouncing where she sat. "So how soon can we start?"

"Well, have you been monitoring your ovulation?"

"Of course. And I actually just started ovulating yesterday. I'm at peak week."

Dr. Fuller chuckled. "That's good, but have you chosen a donor from the  database yet? We need to go over that part . . . kind of important."

Now it was Tess who laughed. "I know. That's the hard part. I've narrowed it down to a few candidates, but . . ."

"That's not something you want to rush, Tess."

"I know. I agree. I just . . ." She sighed and conceded, "I might need a  little more time, and I feel like I'm going to lose this month, and I  don't want to lose any more time."

"It's more important to be sure about your choice than to be fast." The  doctor's voice softened kindly as she added, "Tess . . . you'll be fine.  You have time. Honestly."

After the call ended, Tess released her hair from the towel turban,  shook out the long, damp curls, and lay back on her bed to stare at the  view beyond. The entire back wall was made of glass, showcasing the  majesty of the snow-capped mountains and pine trees outside. Clear blue  skies and bright sunshine made the scene as picturesque as a postcard.

A donor. She had to choose one. She needed a sperm donor who was  fabulous, who'd pass on amazing traits and attributes to her child. She  wanted a Superman . . .

An idea had taken hold this week and she couldn't shake it. Now, after  Dr. Fuller's phone call giving her the green light to start, the idea  grew claws and dug into her, a deep gut reaction. She had a sperm donor  in mind, a "known donor," as it were. From what she knew of him, he was a  truly good person, with high intelligence, great compassion, and strong  morals. He loved to help others and had a dry sense of humor. He was  self-sufficient, capable, hardworking, and kind. He also happened to be  drop-dead gorgeous and physically strong. Yup, all the traits he  possessed were ones she'd love to have in a son or daughter of her own.  And bonus, he was unmarried, totally unattached. So all week, the more  she thought about it, the more it made sense.

Logan Carter was a dream sperm donor.

But would he ever agree to it? It was a hell of a thing to ask someone.

He'd made it clear he wanted no ties in his life . . . but the fact was,  that made him only a more perfect donor. If he would give up all claims  to her child, leaving her to raise her child on her own, that was  ideal. Tess wanted to be a single parent; she had those bases covered.  Maybe that would appeal to him? Or would he run like hell and never even  talk to her again?

She drew a long, deep breath and expelled it with determination. No time  to waste. The green light from the doctor spurred Tess into action. If  Logan said no, she'd deal with it and go back to the donor database  provided by the clinic. The only thing to do was ask. She had nothing to  lose and so much to gain.

She texted Logan. Hi Thor Please call me when you can? Need to ask you something.

To her surprise, her phone rang thirty seconds later.

"You know I don't like it when people call me Thor." His deep, sexy  voice, a playful rumble in her ear, sent a current of electricity  skittering through her.

"I do know that," she said, smiling. "That's what makes it fun."

"Great," he grunted, clearly joking. "What's up? Everything okay?"

"Yes, everything's fine. I, um . . ." She took a deep breath, trying to  calm her suddenly pounding heart. "I want to talk with you about  something. Any chance you're free for dinner tonight?"

"Tonight?" he repeated. "Uh . . . yeah, I can do that. How's seven o'clock? Is that too late?"

"No, that's perfect." She wanted to invite him over, order in dinner,  and have the privacy of her home for such an important conversation, but  she knew he'd been purposely staying out of her house unless necessary.  The attraction bubbling between them was easier to put off when they  were out in public places. She quickly tried to think of the quieter  restaurants she knew. Somewhere they could really talk. "How about  Sophie's Bistro? Do you know it? It's on Montdale, near the yoga studio .  . ."