“It was the summer after they’d both graduated from high school. He’d already enlisted, and she was due to start college in the fall. Her parents had just died a few weeks before, and one night they went together to a party on the beach and just kind of started hanging out after that. They slept together before he left for boot camp. And when he came back and was being deployed, they got married. I think she truly thought they had a shot at making it work. Dad loved her so much, was so good to her. She knew he was going to make a great father someday. All things she also still says today.
“But as soon as she started college, they grew apart. He was gone a lot, and when he was home, he couldn’t relate to most of what was captivating her. Didn’t know a lot about the business world or stock markets or marketing. But just a few months after they were married, Mom found out she was pregnant. By the time I was a year old, I think I was the only thing they had in common. When Mom graduated, with a great job offer in Mission Viejo, and he didn’t understand why she couldn’t just take the lesser job she’d been offered in San Diego, she knew that if she didn’t leave then, they’d end up hating each other. They were always kind to each other, respectful of each other... Mom and Richard, my stepdad, were both at his funeral.”
His biggest fear had just come to life in the form of two people he’d never met. Had Cassie’s dad’s lack of education, of potential, been at least partially responsible for the failure of his marriage?
He didn’t like Cassie’s story. At all. A man had loved his family with all of his heart, and it hadn’t been enough.
And yet...to have a woman like Cassie there, adoring him, looking up to him in her own way... Maybe her father hadn’t been all that unlucky after all.
Some people just had to take what was given to them. To see the gifts where they were.
That was intelligence in the way that mattered most.
“I’m an average learner,” he blurted, against his better judgment. “I’m not well educated, but I have the mental capacity to be.”
She blinked. Sat back. “Okay.”
“Just in case you think your kid is going to get genes like your dad’s from me. He isn’t. Or she isn’t.”
And he was doing a fantastic job of proving so.
“I...didn’t think anything of the kind.” Her frown drew more attention to those eyes of hers. They were mysterious, set so majestically in that striking bone structure. And then she shook her head. “Why would you...” Her voice trailed off, leaving him to fix his mess.
“I’ve been struggling to understand why a woman would choose a man with less than a high school education to father her child when there were doctors and lawyers to choose from for the same exact cost.” He looked her straight in the eye. He wasn’t ashamed of who he was. Of the choices he’d made. But he didn’t kid himself, either. A lack of education hurt a man’s potential in some ways.
Women ways, for one. His capacity to earn was potentially less.
Cassie leaned toward him. Opened her mouth to speak just as their waitress arrived at their table, requiring Cassie to sit upright so her oversize bowl of salad could be placed in front of her. Wood would have forgone lunch to hear whatever it was she’d been about to say.
He put the lettuce and tomato beside his burger in the burger where they belonged. Squirted ketchup for his fries, feeling uncomfortable and a little pissed at himself, as he sat there exposed in a way he’d never been before.
And why? The woman was a stranger to him.
“It was your essay.”
He glanced up at her words, found her watching him, her salad sitting untouched with a small ceramic carafe of dressing beside it.
“I saw your level of education, of course, and probably because of my dad didn’t put a whole lot of stock in the lack of formal schooling. I made my choice based on your essay.”
He’d reread it the other night. He’d been honest about his reason for donating—because his brother had asked him to, and supporting Peter’s efforts was important to him.
“You wrote about family,” she said. “About the gift that comes from having someone who is a part of you, who will always be a part of you, in this life and beyond.”
Yeah, he had, but only because he had to fill the word count required, not because that was his reason for donating sperm. He’d been talking about why he’d felt it important to be there for his brother. Why he’d been willing to donate a part of himself just because Peter had asked him to.
“You quit school your senior year to go to work so that you could keep him with you after your mother died,” she said.
It was a fact that supported his thesis statement. He’d needed the word count.
“That’s why I chose you,” she said. “I believe that character is, in part, genetic. And I know that, for me at least, character is far more important than being a doctor or a lawyer.”
With that she picked up the dressing, poured a generous amount all over her salad, picked up her fork and started eating.
Wood wisely followed suit.
Chapter Four
Cassie could tell she’d offended Wood. Made him feel stupid. Because she’d barreled ahead, uncharacteristically talking about her folks, wanting him to know who she was, what she came from, wanting him to like her, she’d completely spaced on his own lack of education. But even then, there was a difference between Wood and her dad. Her father had needed help, and extra time, getting through high school. Wood had chosen to quit to raise his brother.
She didn’t think less of either of them. She hoped he got that. Would have pressed the point home, except that she didn’t want to risk making the situation worse by drawing more attention to it.
She didn’t want to make him feel bad. To the contrary. He was the genetic other half of her baby. Sitting right there across from her.
She hadn’t expected his mere presence to affect her like it was doing. To draw her in, man to woman.
He picked up his burger and started eating. Chewing. Swallowing. “Do you have any other questions for me?” she asked.
He hesitated, holding his burger, but not raising it for another bite. “I do, actually,” he told her. “Probably not my business, but I’m curious... Why did you choose to go this route, with insemination, rather than a more traditional choice? Not that I think tradition is always the best or right way, but in a case like... You’re going through it all alone...”
Raising a child alone, she translated. Without a father figure. She’d worried about the lack of influence of a steady man in her child’s life.
“I’m not against marriage, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She picked around her salad with her fork. Found a piece of hard-boiled egg and stabbed.
He finally took a bite, still watching her. Lifted his napkin to his mouth and dropped it back to his lap. He was neat and tidy, she’d hand him that, from the clean shave to the straight corners on the collar of his shirt.
“To be honest, I always thought I’d grow up, fall in love and get married. I never saw myself living alone. Or doing this alone.” Oh God. Now she was sounding pitiful, and she didn’t feel that way. At all. “I’ve just never been consumed with a need or desire to be with one person over another. And I couldn’t risk doing to anyone what my mom had to do to my dad. If I’m not compelled to be with a particular person before marriage, I darn sure won’t be after that first glow wears off.”
He nodded, swallowed and, meeting her gaze, said, “I know exactly how you feel.”
“You do.” Not a question. If the man thought she needed to be humored...
“I do,” he reiterated. “Completely.”
“You were married.”
He stilled. Watching her, he said nothing. Maybe wishing he could take back his words. Or hoping she hadn’t drawn the conclusion she had.
Oh Lord. Leave it up to her to inadvertently choo
se and then need to contact a sperm donor who hadn’t at one time been head over heels in love with his wife.
Their whole meeting was oddly...odd. Her rambling on about her parents. Him...saying things he probably hadn’t meant to say. It was like they had started talking and forgotten who they were talking to—virtual strangers.
Except for the baby they had in common. One that might be in a fight for its life.
Might be. Her baby could be just fine. Or could just be anemic.
She thought of Wood’s original question. Why she’d chosen to be inseminated.
“I’m thirty-four,” she suddenly said, somewhat inanely. She was just so damned...not herself around him. Felt more...vulnerable.
Having spent her adult life open to dating, but never finding a man who captivated her, she didn’t know what to do with that.
“It might sound trite, but biological clocks really do tick. Chances for birth defects increase with a woman’s age, and statistically, that means that I run more risk after I turn thirty-five. I left it as late as I could, factoring in the probability of having to go through the process more than once.” She shrugged. “I got lucky there. It took first time.”
But there she was, still facing a possible birth defect.
Dropping his burger to his plate, he met her gaze, holding on as though he was holding her up somehow, as though with a mere look he could infuse her body with strength. Which was ludicrous.
And yet...happening.
“What day is the test scheduled for?”
Yep. There they were. Putting it right out there where she had to face the possibilities—and deal with the panic that hit her every time.
“Wednesday.”
“What time?”
“Eight.” She’d taken the earliest appointment. So she could still make it to her office for a full day’s work.
And so she didn’t have to deal with a full day of anxiety and lack of focus leading up to it.
“I can take you, if you’d like. Since none of your support system is aware that it’s happening.”
“I’m sure you have to work.”
“I do have doctor appointments of my own now and then,” he told her. “My crew will be okay if I’m a couple of hours late. They’re good guys.”
He seemed to want to take her to the appointment that she was dreading more than any other she’d ever been through.
“What do you do for a living?” she asked when she couldn’t make herself tell him that she’d be fine on her own. He’d said “a day job.” She couldn’t remember exactly what. And she really would be fine on her own.
She would be. She just needed a minute.
“I’m still in construction.”
His profile had said so. “Framing, right?”
He picked up his half-eaten burger. “Yes.”
He waited. She didn’t know what to do. Well, she did. She had to tell him she’d be fine on her own. She just wasn’t doing it.
“I understand if you’d rather go alone.” His words reached out to her. Softly enveloping her.
“The thing is... I’d actually rather not. I just don’t know how it’s okay for you to go with me.”
He shrugged. And grinned, of all things. “It’s a medical test to determine whether or not you need my bone marrow,” he said, making it sound so simple.
It wasn’t simple. None of this was.
The intensity of his gaze told her he knew that.
As she waffled, he continued to hold her gaze tenderly. Until she relaxed again. Or gave in.
“Okay, then, I would appreciate the company,” she said. “I really don’t want to tell anyone about this until I know more. But... I’m... It would be easier not to sit there alone.”
She could. There was no doubt in her mind about that.
“It’s just two people sitting there waiting for a test,” he said. “Seriously.”
He was right.
She knew he was right.
“So...this is kind of weird, isn’t it?” she asked.
“A little.”
But they were okay.
And that mattered.
* * *
“So what do you do as a corporate lawyer?” Lunch was almost through, and Wood wasn’t ready to get on with his day—or to leave Cassie to hers.
“A lot of contract reading,” she said with a chuckle. “But really, all kinds of things. I have several clients myself, and the firm has some that we share. We advise on everything from criminal complaints against a corporation, civil complaints—usually meaning lawsuits—deal negotiations and anything else that comes up.”
“So you go to court.”
“On occasion. Mostly I’m in meetings. Researching. And doing a hell of a lot of contract reading,” she repeated with a self-deprecatory grin. Like she was downplaying the high-powered importance of her job.
“Don’t do that,” he said.
“Do what?”
“Undermine what you do.”
“I...wasn’t...”
All he did was look at her, and she dropped her gaze. Signaling that he was right.
She looked at him. Sighed. “I don’t know what it is about you... I’m just not myself. I’m constantly afraid of offending you and I don’t even know why.”
Her honesty put him at ease, endeared her to him a bit.
“I live with a nuclear radiology resident,” he told her. “She was a med student before that. And when Peter was in med school, he talked nonstop about his classes and the things he was learning every step of the way. I can handle conversation involving higher learning.”
She shook her head. “It’s not that. And if you have such an issue with your lack of education, then why don’t you just go back to school?”
“I don’t have an issue with it.” Normally, never.
“Then why do you keep trying to make an issue of it between us?”
He wished he knew. Shook his head. “This situation is a first for me, I’ll give you that,” he told her. All that mattered was them getting through this together. Making sure that the baby she was carrying made it into the world in good health, or got healthy as soon as possible if it didn’t. And yet...for the first time in his life, he wanted to be more than he was. And he had no idea why.
Pushing her nearly empty salad bowl aside, she put her forearms on the table, leaning toward him a bit. “You could always take the GED,” she told him.
“Done,” he said, adding, “I wasn’t going to be able to advance without a diploma equivalency.” But other than the requisite contractor licensing he’d needed to obtain to do his job, he’d never sought out any other education. Although he had time. Plenty of it.
And financial means now, too. He just wasn’t interested in being a thirty-six-year-old college student now. Or a thirty-year-old one, either, several years ago. Peter had completely understood. Elaina didn’t really seem to. She didn’t push him, but the comments she sometimes made, the questions she asked...
Their waitress had just slipped the bill onto the table as she passed; the staff was hovering to turn their table.
Cassie reached for the bill. He took ownership of it before she could touch it. He’d issued the lunch invitation and was already pulling out his credit card. But he wasn’t ready to pay yet.
“Do you know the sex of the baby?” He’d meant to segue into the question a bit better. Justifying a reason why he’d need to know. Had kind of hoped she might give him some indication without him having to ask.
She shook her head. “A lot of times they can tell with the first ultrasound, but he or she wasn’t cooperating,” she said, sitting back. For the first time he saw her reach for her stomach. Put her hand there. And hoped she was feeling okay.
Not sure what to do about it if she wasn’t.
“The amnio w
ill tell us that, for sure,” she said.
“So that’s something to look forward to from the test results.”
She smiled at him. Nodded. And, because of that hand on her stomach, he somehow had to ask, “Have you had much morning sickness?”
“Nope.” Another smile. “Until now, this whole experience has been a breeze.”
He mentioned a movie he’d seen where the heroine was going through a first-time pregnancy and had everything go wrong, in terms of preparation, but with a picture perfect pregnancy and healthy baby. It was a comedy. She’d seen it, too. Somehow a half hour passed as they discussed TV shows, moving on to crime procedurals. Wood enjoyed hearing her take on those that involved lawyers. Hearing her talk about white-collar crime from a technical perspective was better than any movie, as far as he was concerned.
The conversation led into a discussion of their work hours. She asked about his current project. He told her a bit. Nothing specific. Not a whole lot of interesting conversation about hammering boards together. Or overseeing others doing so. He liked the work, though. Liked the math involved. Like solving puzzles every single day. She smiled when he mentioned that, asked if he ever played games on his phone. Pulled hers out to show him a couple of her favorites. One of which he had on his phone, as well.
They had to go. He knew it. But wasn’t satisfied. She was strong and beautiful and...pregnant with his child and bearing worry about that all alone. He wanted to do more for her.
“Listen, if you ever have anything you need done at your house...I’m happy to help,” he said. He’d done all that needed doing at his place. Or all that he had any interest in doing. “You want a light moved, or a ceiling fan put in...maybe some help putting together baby furniture... My tools travel...”
“I might take you up on that.” She was smiling again, her tone easy and relaxed, and he was glad.
And then his phone rang. Elaina. Cassie must have seen her picture come up on his caller ID. She glanced at his phone and immediately looked away, the smile fading from her face.
Her Motherhood Wish (The Parent Portal Book 3) Page 4