It was nice to have had those few sweet hours without thinking of the ovulation cycle she was wasting, or the profiles of the potential donors she'd combed through again, or most of all, Logan Carter.
While their talk had gone pretty much how she'd suspected it would, she hadn't been prepared for his total abandonment. Three days now, and not so much as a word. She'd gone through the gamut of emotions: upset, sad, angry, disappointed, offended, heartsick. She was starting to wonder if he'd ever speak to her again, or if he was just going to completely avoid her from now on.
Didn't he have any idea how hard it'd been for her to even ask that of him in the first place? She hadn't been that nervous in a long time. She grunted as she thought of the look on his face as he'd bolted from the restaurant. Sheer panic. And nothing since. Well, if that was his stance, he may as well stay away, for a hundred reasons.
Today, she'd called the clinic and made an appointment for the following afternoon. Time to forge ahead. Narrowing it down to three possible donor choices based on their bios, she intended to have a choice made and the process started by the time she left Dr. Fuller's office. Being proactive in the face of resistance or a setback always made her feel better. There was no more time to waste. She wanted her baby, dammit, more and more with each passing day.
She put the e-reader down and sat up. As soon as she did, Bubbles jumped off the couch and barked as her tail wagged faster.
"You need to go out?" Tess asked.
Bubbles ran for the side door and barked again.
"I'll take that as a hell yes, Mama, I need to go." Tess smiled and rose from the couch. She pulled on her coat, shoved her feet into her Uggs, and grabbed the leash from its hook on the wall. It was freezing out, so Tess didn't linger-and thankfully, Bubbles didn't want to either. She did her thing and they were back inside within three minutes. As soon as Tess was out of her coat and boots, she went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She filled the silver kettle with water and put it on to boil. Her cell phone dinged with a text. She glanced at the screen to see Pierce had written: Hey, big sis. How's it going? Miss you.
"Awww," she cooed aloud before typing back, Hi! Miss you too. I'm fine. Enjoying the mountain air, and the peace and quiet.
Good, glad to hear it. Do any skiing?
Yup. Went several times. It was great.
Atta girl.
How's Abby feeling? Tess couldn't help but smile, thinking of Abby being pregnant . . . and that Pierce would be a father. That still amazed her.
Sick as a dog, he answered. Every damn morning. It's awful. She throws her guts up here, then again when she gets to school. I feel so bad for her.
Ugh! Tess wrote, wincing for her sweet sister-in-law. Me too. I'm sure it'll pass in a few more weeks. Give her a big hug for me.
I will. I'll call soon, we'll talk and catch up more. Just wanted to check in.
He always had. Even when Pierce had lived in England, he'd always checked in with her regularly. Tess was so glad that even though he was married now, his life full in different ways, they were still close. Glad you did, she wrote. Yes, let's talk soon. Love you, Soccer Boy.
Love you too, Tessie. Be good.
Tess smiled as she put down the phone. The kettle whistled and she moved it to a different burner, then crossed to the far cupboard and rummaged through the many tins and boxes of tea. There had to be close to twenty different kinds. She couldn't help it-she loved hot tea on a cold winter's day or night, so every time she saw a kind of tea that she thought she might like, she got it. Another one of her indulgences, she supposed, recalling that chat with Logan . . .
Logan. Ugh. She pushed him out of her mind. She didn't want to be upset with him. She knew what she'd asked of him was huge, and didn't blame him for declining. It was the total silence afterwards that had her so damn disappointed in him.
Deciding to go with the hot cinnamon spice, she dunked the tea bag into her mug once, twice-and the doorbell rang, making her startle. Bubbles barked like mad from the other room and came racing by, a blur of white fur and sound, flying right for the door.
Tess wasn't expecting anyone. Her heart skipped a beat; could it actually be Logan? Nah, he was staying away from her like she had the plague. Her long legs had her across the house in a few seconds. "Who's there?" she asked loudly over Bubbles's barking, through the door.
"It's me, Tess."
Wow, it was Logan. Interesting. A wave of something whooshed through her, a mixture of trepidation, annoyance, and a little thrill. But the annoyance took over. She straightened to her full height, her chin held high as she opened the door . . . and didn't say a word. She just looked at him. Frigid mountain air rushed in.
Bubbles barked and yipped and leapt up to Logan for attention.
"Hey there, little miss." He bent briefly to pet the dog and give her some love. After a few seconds, appeased, Bubbles took off, headed back to the warmth of her doggie bed by the fireplace. He straightened up again and offered Tess an awkward grin that was more like a grimace. "Hey." His voice was soft, tentative.
He stood there in his usual outfit: blue ski jacket over a navy fleece hoodie, jeans, work boots, navy wool hat pulled down over his mop of blond hair . . . and hints of frost in his beard that glinted as the light hit. Did he have to be so damned handsome?
"Hello." She kept her tone and gaze cool, affable but not welcoming.
He shifted his stance as his eyes traveled over her in brief appraisal. She didn't know what he was assessing; she wore a red and black striped sweater over black leggings. Nothing glamorous. She grew more irritated by the second. Her limbs felt taut from holding back the tension. She swept her long hair back and lifted her chin another notch.
Then he said, "Your body language is screaming fuck you, Logan, go away. I don't blame you. I've been an asshole. I handled all this horribly."
Astonishment sucker-punched her. But all she said was, "Yup."
He nodded, and she could see the remorse in his eyes. It was genuine. At least that was one thing she knew for sure about Logan Carter. He was a lot of things, but he wasn't a liar. He was as true as they came. He cleared his throat and said, "I'm here because I'd like to talk. To apologize, and . . . some other things. If you'll hear me out. Can I come in?"
Her heart melted a little, but she'd be damned if she'd let him see that. "Sure." She moved aside to let him pass. He entered the foyer and looked to her for cues; she turned and walked farther into the house. "I was just making some tea. Would you like some?"
"No, thank you," he said as she went back to the kitchen, and he followed. "So . . . how are you?"
"Fine, thanks." She removed the tea bag from her mug and placed it on a nearby saucer. She lifted the steaming cup to her face and inhaled the delicious scent of the tea, her eyes closing for a second from the pleasure. Then she turned away, saying over her shoulder, "Let's talk in the dining room." It was more formal there. The thought of curling up beside him on the couch was more than she wanted right then. "And take off your coat if you're staying."
"I'd like to stay." His deep voice was so earnest, it made her stop and turn back to look at him. He was behind her, his eyes tight with ambivalence, making the corners crinkle appealingly. "We have a lot to discuss."
That made her stomach do a little flip. But she was Tess Harrison, and dammit, she knew how to cover her emotions when necessary. That was Life As a Harrison 101. "Really," she said. "Then let's do that." She went to the dining area, gesturing with a sweep of her hand for him to sit where he wanted. She sat at the head of the polished wooden table as he shrugged out of his coat and hoodie.
"You took the power position," he noted as he placed his things on a chair. "You're pretty pissed at me." He yanked off his hat and dropped it onto the same chair, quickly raked his fingers through his golden hair to brush it out of his eyes, and took the seat closest to her, at her right, watching her with intent.
She sipped her tea as he settled his big frame into the ornate, high-backed cherrywood chair. In his blue and gray flannel, her rugged, sexy guest looked slightly out of place at the long, elegant table. She kind of liked that. Finally she said, "Yes, I'm pissed at you. But probably not for why you think."