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 . . .”
“Yeah, I know it. Should I pick you up, or meet you there?”
“Meet me there.” Tess had a feeling if it didn’t go well, he’d need that escape. “I’ll make a reservation.”
“Okay. Um . . .” Logan paused. “What are we talking about? Anything serious?”
“I have a proposition for you,” she said. “And I guarantee it’s not what you think. In fact, you couldn’t guess if you tried.”
“Really. Now I’m intrigued.”
“Good, that means you’ll show up.”
He laughed. “Like I’d ever stand you up. See you at seven.”
She flopped back onto the bed, her heart racing and body wired with adrenaline. Asking Logan to be her sperm donor was kind of crazy. He’d probably say no. And, when he turned her down, there was a chance he’d stop talking to her altogether. Anything was possible. But . . . she bit down on her lip, a smile spreading on her face. But what if he said yes? It would be the answer to all her prayers. She could almost imagine what their baby would look like. Hope and nervous elation filled her.
* * *
Tess had managed not only to get a reservation at Sophie’s, but for her favorite table, half hidden in a back corner, away from the main sea of tables. Its location added an air of intimacy to the already cozy atmosphere. They were as private as a couple could be when dining out in public. But when their entrées arrived, she fidgeted with her fork, pushing around the food on her plate. Although the sesame/ginger tuna at Sophie’s Bistro was one of her favorite dishes in all of Aspen, she had no appetite.
She’d made it through small talk with Logan, asking him about his day, and answered his as well . . . but she wasn’t able to think about anything except her ovulation cycle, the whole process, and how the hell she could ask him to be her donor.
A few bites into his flatiron steak, he frowned slightly as he looked at her and asked, “You okay?”
“Me?” she asked, her voice lifting an octave. “Yeah. Great. Why?”
“You’re not eating. And all night you’ve seemed . . . nervous. Not like yourself.” Logan’s eyes narrowed on her. “What’s going on, Tess?” He reached for his club soda and drank.
Busted, she put her fork down. “You’re right. I’m not quite myself tonight. Sorry about that.”
“No need to be sorry, but just tell me what’s going on.” His shrewd, pale green eyes now locked on her, no mercy. “You said you had a proposition for me. Whatever it is obviously has you off your game. Talk to me. I’m listening.”
She nodded and took a long, cleansing breath, trying to stay cool even as her heart fluttered and took off like a racehorse. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Should I be worried?” he asked.
“No. God, no. I should.” A hint of a nervous smile flicked across her features.
He put down his fork and knife, sat very still, and gazed at her, waiting patiently. “Just blurt it out if you have to,” he finally coaxed.
“Okay.” She cleared her dry throat, stole a quick sip of water, and took another deep breath. “You know I want to have a baby.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You know I went to the clinic and met with the doctor, had an exam, all of that.”
“Yes, I do.” His steady gaze softened with concern. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”
Her heart did a fluttery thing at the look on his face. He was so kind. He cared. Genuinely cared. She wasn’t sure how or when that happened, but he did, she could tell, and it moved her. “I’m more than okay,” she assured him when she found her voice again. “I’m great. Perfect health. And my doctor thinks I shouldn’t have much trouble conceiving.”
“That’s fantastic.” Logan’s warm smile made her skin heat up. “I’m glad for you, Tess, really.”
“But there’s one major factor I don’t have in place yet,” she barreled on, making herself talk before she lost her nerve, which was a possibility. “I still need a sperm donor. I haven’t been able to decide on one yet.”
“How does that work?” Logan asked. “They have, like, what, a database or something? Is that where you choose?” He picked up his utensils again and cut into his steak, taking a bite.
“Yes, exactly. And I’ve been going over them, and there are a few decent candidates based on the bios, but . . .” Her heart thudded so hard she wondered if he could hear it. “This is my child we’re talking about. I want to find someone who will bring a lot to the table, so to speak. It’s a tall order.”
“Well, sure it is,” Logan said. Now that she was talking, she supposed he’d relaxed some, because his eyes weren’t searing through her anymore and he was eating. Casual again, no problems here. “I don’t envy you that. Must be hard, and nerve-racking. Plus, you just hope these guys—the potential donors—are telling the truth, right? You don’t really know, since you don’t know them.”
“Yes!” she enthused, leaning in. “Exactly that! I know the clinic has a stringent screening process, but sure, those men can lie about some things, how do I know? So . . .” A new wave of determination zipped through her, and she folded her hands on the table as she leveled her gaze on Logan. “There’s a thing called a known donor. A lot of women go that route. They’re able to go into the process fully confident, because the donor is someone they know. Could be a boyfriend, or just a friend . . . someone they already know and trust.”
“Makes sense,” Logan said, and took another bite.
“I’m glad you think so.” Tess swallowed hard. “The thing is, I have someone in mind to ask. I know it’s a monumental thing to ask of someone, but I have gotten to know this man. And I think most of his attributes—both physical and emotional—are ones that I’d be proud to have in my own son or daughter. I just don’t know how to get the words out.”
Logan half smiled, still chewing . . . then stopped chewing. He swallowed hard, meeting her eyes. “Tess . . . this proposition of yours. It wouldn’t be . . .”
“Yes, Logan.” Her heart nearly thumped its way out of her chest, but she said, “I’m asking you if you’d consider being my sperm donor.”