Chapter 3
DASH
It took me three weeks to find an assistant and then I had to train him. With Cody handling the PA side of things, I can focus on the contracts.
It also means Christopher and I finally have some spare time, and we’re able to resume our weekly dinners.
Christopher is out on my patio, grilling two steaks while I put the finishing touches on the cobb salad. When I’m done, I pour us each a glass of red wine.
When Christopher brings in the meat, I plate our food. I’ve connected my phone with the TV so we can look at some donor profiles while we eat. Taking a seat on the couch, I click on the first one. “Donor number one.”
Race: Caucasian
Ancestry: German
Blood Group: B+
Height: 6.4"
Hair Color: Blonde
Eye Color: Green
Qualifications: BA/Political Science
Occupation: Police Officer
“Seriously?” Christopher mutters, and then he reads over the information. “No.”
“What’s wrong with this one?”
Christopher’s eyes slant my way. “You’re both blonde with green eyes. Your kid will end up looking like a vampire.”
I blink for a couple of seconds. “Seriously? That’s the freaking point. My baby will look like me.”
“No, Dash,” he mutters before cutting into his steak.
I scroll down, then mumble, “Donor number two.”
Race: Multi
Ancestry: French–Norwegian–Scottish–African(Congolese)
Blood Group: O+
Height: 6.2"
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Qualifications: Ph.D.
Occupation: Student
Christopher glances over the details then shakes his head.
My eyebrows raise while I wait for him to swallow the bite he took, then he states, “He’s a student, which probably means his balls haven’t dropped.”
Letting out a chuckle, I say, “He has a Ph.D., which means he’s definitely older than twenty-two.”
He shakes his head firmly. “Hell no.”
Rolling my eyes, I scroll to the next one.
Race: Caucasian
Ancestry: Irish-German
Blood Group: A-
Height: 5.11"
Hair Color: Red Wavy
Eye Color: Hazel
Qualifications: BS/Business Administration
Occupation: Server
Christopher lets out a sigh. “Probably has a qualification in bullshit. No.”
Turning off the TV, I look at my unreasonable best friend. “You’re going to have a problem no matter who I show you.” Tilting my head, I ask, “Seeing as no sperm is good enough for my eggs, what do you expect me to do then? I kinda need sperm to make this happen.”
He turns his attention back to his food, which makes me take a bite of my own steak.
Only when we’re done with our meals and I’ve placed the plates and cutlery in the dishwasher does Christopher say, “There’s another option.”
After I’ve filled our wine glasses, I sit down again, then ask, “Like? Adoption?” I shake my head. “I want to experience being pregnant.”
“I wasn’t referring to adopting,” he says.
When our eyes meet, and I see the serious look, I ask, “What other options are left?”
“Using the sperm of someone you know.”
My eyebrows pop up, then I begin to chuckle. “Yeah, I don’t think so. There’s no way I’m asking one of our friends. I don’t want any of our family and friends knowing about this until I’m pregnant. They’ll probably try to talk me out of it.”
Christopher shakes his head, then he asks, “You do realize I’m a man, right?”
My spine instantly straightens, and I stare at Christopher as what he says sinks in. “You’re willing to be the sperm donor? Really?”
Holy shit. That would be perfect. There’s no one I trust more.
Christopher shrugs. “I’d rather be the father than some stranger we know absolutely nothing about. You having a child affects me as well. Instead of being the uncle, who has to be the father anyway, seeing as a donor won’t be a part of the kid's life, it might as well be my sperm.”
I keep staring at Christopher. “Are you sure? It’s a big responsibility.”
Christopher takes a deep breath. “I’ve thought about it since you told me what your plans were last month.”
“What if you meet someone a year from now? I don’t think there’s a woman on this planet who will be okay with the fact that we have a child together. It’s already hard dating because we’re friends,” I remind him of our biggest problem.
Christopher stares at me again until I tilt my head, then he says, “We said we’d get married when you turned thirty. We could just expedite it to next year.”
My mouth drops open, and all I can do is gape at him. I totally forgot about it, and honestly, I thought he was joking back then.
“Don’t give me that look,” he grumbles. “We’re best friends. We have similar interests. Most importantly, we love each other. We won’t get divorced. I don’t see any reason why we can’t make it work.”
All true… but…
I’m not sure I can do that. I’m not blind when it comes to my best friend. He’s panty-melting hot. God, he’s the most sought after bachelor.
Being married to him and only being friends? That would be torture. I know myself. I’ll want more, and if Christopher can’t be intimate with me, it will destroy everything we have. It’s been a constant battle to remain platonic with him as is.
“So it will be more along the lines of a marriage of convenience?” I ask, hesitance and worry lacing my words.
Christopher gives me a have-you-lost-your-mind look. “No. It will be a normal marriage, Dash.”
What?
I can only blink at him for a moment before I manage to ask, “Will this include us being intimate?”
Christopher lets out a chuckle as if it’s a stupid question. “Of course. You want kids, and I seriously don’t plan on jerking off for the rest of my life.”
Holy shit.
A weird sense of anticipation and hope begins to creep into my heart, and feeling awkward about it, I let out a burst of laughter.
CHRISTOPHER
Definitely not the reaction I was hoping for.
When her laughter dies away, and the sadness creeps back into her eyes, I murmur, “You deserve the whole fairytale, Dash. Not just a baby.”
She shrugs, her gaze settling on the coffee table. “Fairytales don’t exist. We both know that.”
“They do,” I argue. “Look at Tristan and Hana. Noah and Carla. My parents, your parents.”
A hopeless look tightens her features. “That kind of relationship is not in the cards for me.”
A dark frown begins to form on my face. “Why would you say that?”
She shakes her head and sighs. “Because it’s the truth. Most people marry their soul mates. Why do you think we’ve been struggling with relationships? Your girlfriends and my boyfriends all shit themselves because of our friendship. And I can’t blame them. No guy will be okay with you being more important than them.”
My heart begins to beat a little faster, and narrowing my eyes, I ask, “Did you give up on dating because of me?”
Dash hesitates before she nods. “I’m tired of hearing how I always put you before them. They were right, though. I’ll always put you first.”
I reach for her hand and link our fingers. Dash glances at me, and then I say, “We should just get married, then there won’t be any problems.”
She lets out a burst of laughter as she gets up from the chair, pulling her hand free from mine. “Yeah, right.” Walking to the sliding door, she stares at the view of the city. “Can you imagine how awkward the sex will be?” She laughs again, shaking her head.
Worried, I ask, “You think it would be awkwa
rd? Why?”
Glancing over her shoulder at me, she widens her eyes. “Seriously? You know why? One look at my bra was enough to send you running.”
“That was once, and I was caught off guard,” I argue. “Have you ever thought about it?”
I get up, and it has Dash turning so she can face me as she asks, “What? Sex with you?”
“Yes,” I murmur as I walk toward her.
Her eyebrows pop up before she glances away from me. “When I was a teenager. Maybe.”
That’s something I can work with.
“And?” I ask.
“What do you mean and?” she mutters, an uncomfortable look settling on her face.
“Was it awkward thinking about it?” I ask, needing to know if she’s repulsed by the idea or not.
“Are you really asking me this right now?” she gasps, then she throws the question back at me. “Have you thought about it?”
“Of course, and I was fine with it,” I answer honestly as I stop in front of her.
Her mouth opens and closes a couple of times, and then she takes a sharp breath. “Are we really having this conversation?”
“We are,” I state, figuring it’s now or never. “Think about it, Dash. Everything you said was the truth. We’re fucked. Either we get married, or our friendship will have to take a back seat to whoever we choose to date.”
“We’re fucked,” she mutters before taking a sip of her wine.
“I’ll never be able to not be your best friend. It’s not a possibility to me,” I admit the truth.
“Same here,” Dash agrees. Lifting her eyes to mine, she asks, “So what do we do?”
We can work as a couple. Dash is drop-dead gorgeous, brilliant, funny, loyal, and the attraction is there from my side.
“Let’s think about it,” I answer her, even though I’ve made up my mind. But it’s not just up to me. “Would it be the worst thing for us to get married?”
Dash stares at me for a while, then she says, “No, I guess not.” She steps around me and heading to the kitchen, she fills her wine glass again.
Slowly, she walks back to me.
“You said you thought about sex with me. Was it awkward?” I ask again. Being direct is the only way through this.
Dash drinks half the damn glass of wine before I reach for it. I set the glass down on the coffee table then turn back to her.
She looks uncomfortable as fuck, making me worry even more. I expect to hear a yes from her, but then she mumbles, “No.”
It takes a couple of seconds for her answer to sink in. “It wasn’t awkward?” I ask to make sure I heard right.
“No, it wasn’t,” she says as she lets out a defeated sigh. “But it was years ago.”
The corner of my mouth curves up. “It’s something we can work with.” Knowing Dash needs time to get used to the idea, I say, “Let’s take a week to think about it. Next weekend we can talk again and figure out where to go from here.”
She nods, and as she meets my gaze, she says, “I’m just worried it will affect our friendship. What if we do this and one of us ends up wanting more than the other is willing to offer?”
I stare at her for a couple of seconds, wondering if she’s talking about herself or me. “More? In what way?”
She lets out a sigh, and her shoulders slump. “I might have given up on dating, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want it all. What if I want romance, dates, being swept off my feet?”
I lock eyes with her. “Then I’ll give it to you.”
Dash’s lips part, and I watch surprise flutter over her features. “Just like that?”
Needing her to hear every word I say, I lift my hands to the sides of her neck and step closer to her. “Dash, you’re perfect. You get me like no other. We fit.”
“What happens if we agree to do this? How do we go from being best friends to being… romantic?” She lets out a burst of nervous laughter.
That’s a whole different topic. I held back with my previous relationships because… honestly, I just didn’t feel it with any of them.
But with Dash, I won’t be able to hold back.
Letting go of her, I murmur, “If we agree to this, we commit fully. There’s no breaking up, no getting divorced.”
I wait for her to nod. “You know how I feel about that, so we’re on the same page.”
I stare at Dash, taking in how fucking beautiful she is. I remember how hard I got just from seeing her in her bra. There’s no way I’ll be able to take it slow.
Fuck, here goes nothing.
“If we agree to cross the line, I won’t be able to hold back,” I warn her.
A slight frown forms on her forehead. “What do you mean?”
“You know how I am at work?” I ask her, wanting to ease her into this side of me she doesn’t know about.
“A controlling asshole that rules Indie Ink with an iron fist?” she begins to chuckle.
The instant I nod, the smile drops from her face. She stares at me as if I just grew two heads, then her eyes widen. “Are you trying to tell me you’re into dominant stuff?”
My lips curve up as silent laughter escapes me. “Dominant, yes. Stuff, no.”
She lets out a breath of relief. “Good, because the second you pull out a whip, I’m strangling you with it.”
Her comment has me laughing, then she asks, “What do you mean you won’t be able to hold back then?”
Becoming serious again, I explain, “It means I’m not going to treat you as my best friend, Dash. I’m going to treat you as the woman I plan on marrying. We get engaged immediately.”
Her eyes widen again. “Oh.”
Chapter 4
DASH
Staring at Christopher’s closed office door, I keep thinking about what he said on Saturday. We’ve agreed to both take some time to consider our options before making the decision.
Kids. Marriage. Us.
I think back to whenever Christopher dated in the past. If you can call what he did dating. While studying, he was the king of one-night stands.
I’ve never seen him in a committed relationship. The longest he dated the same girl was… what?... three weeks?
Shit, I can’t remember.
The door suddenly opens, and I quickly look back to the contract in front of me.
Christopher places a folder containing the latest deal on my desk. “This one is good to go.”
“Okay.” I pick it up, and pushing my chair back, I rise to my feet.
When I start to walk away from the desk, Christopher asks, “Will you arrange lunch for us?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I say, “Sure. Anything specific?”
His eyes are locked on me, a different expression in them than what I’m used to seeing.
Is that interest?
The corner of his mouth curves up. “Whatever you feel like.”
“At one?” I ask, smiling back at him.
“Please.”
Reaching the elevator, I press the button. I glance down the hallway, and seeing Christopher is still looking at me, I ask, “Something wrong?”
Slowly he shakes his head as the doors open in front of me. “I like the dress.”
“Thanks.” I chuckle as I step into the elevator and press the button for Ryker’s floor.
I smile at Ryker’s assistant. “Hey, Dorris. How are you?”
She eyes me up and down before raising an eyebrow at me. “Well, don’t you look gorgeous today? I love that dress, honey.”
“Thank you.” Handing her the folder, I say, “Can you make sure Ryker gets this?”
“Of course.”
“How are the kids?” I ask.
Dorris rolls her eyes. “They’re going to send me to an early grave. Yesterday, James was doing math homework. The next minute all I hear is two times two, the son of a bitch is four. Three times two, the son of a bitch is six. Let me tell you, my soul up and left my body.”
I begin to laugh, “And then?”
&nbs
p; “I called his teacher, and then she explained he probably means to say the sum of which is, instead of the son of a bitch is.”
My laughter echoes around the office, and I have to wrap an arm around my waist to try and keep it together.
“Needless to say, I won’t ever live that one down,” Dorris says, only adding fuel to my laughter.
“Priceless,” I gasp. God, I love Dorris. I’d never get any work done if she were my assistant. “You just made my day.”
“Anything to see that pretty smile of yours,” she flatters me.
“If you ever get tired of Ryker, just move upstairs,” I tease her.
She lets out a huff. “Ryker will fall apart without me.”
“That’s the truth,” I chuckle as I begin to walk away. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“You as well, honey,” she calls after me.
When I get back to my desk, I order sushi for lunch and then focus on reading through the contract, so I’m prepared for the meeting at two when the client comes to sign.
I finally get through it and prepare everything in the boardroom, so it’s ready for the meeting.
Just as I get back to my desk, Cody sets the two containers of sushi down on my desk. “Thanks.” I dig some cash from my wallet and hand it to Cody, then say, “Hold all calls for thirty minutes, please.”
“Sure.”
Picking up our lunch, I walk into Christopher’s office. His head snaps up, and when his eyes focus on me, he gets up. We meet at the round table, and each grab a chair. Opening a container, I set it down before Christopher. “Hope you’re okay with sushi.”
“Always,” he murmurs.
While we eat, I tell him about Dorris, and it makes our short lunch pleasant.
Glancing at the watch on my wrist, I say, “I want to check everything before Mr. Sullivan arrives.”
“Are you okay handling him alone?” Christopher asks as I gather the containers.
“Sure.”
Walking out of his office, I discard the trash then head to the restroom to wash my hands and freshen up.
I’ve just checked everything again when my phone rings. “Dash West.”
“Miss West, there’s a Mr. Sullivan to see you,” Peter, one of our security officers on the first floor, notifies me.
Tempted Heir Page 3