by Jessie Evans
“My tomorrow’s pretty crazy, too,” Noah said with a sigh, not looking forward to his breakfast date with the woman who would not be having his baby, no matter how passionately she pled her case. And he was sure she would be passionate. He didn’t know RunYazzRun’s name—only her e-mail handle—but he could already tell she was a handful. “We can exchange horror stories over beer tomorrow night.”
Her lips quirked. “Or compare battle scars.”
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said, unable to keep from flirting…just a little.
Thankfully his efforts were rewarded with another knockout smile. “Watch out, Riley. I’m starting to think you’ve got a naughty side beneath all that country boy charm.”
He shrugged. “I’m actually a city boy. Born and raised in San Francisco and still live in the Bay Area.”
“Interesting. I would never have guessed. You seem right at home as a knight in faded blue jeans.”
“Thank you,” he said, strangely touched. “Just wish I could have done more.”
“You’ve been great,” she said, eyes narrowing. “But don’t think I missed that.”
“Missed what?”
“That I didn’t get an answer about your naughty side.” She nodded thoughtfully as she began to back away again. “Guess I’ll have to figure it out for myself tomorrow night.”
Before he could respond, she turned and jogged away down the hill, her white dress bouncing around her thighs. Noah watched her go, wishing it was already six o’clock tomorrow and all the hard stuff was behind him. He was looking forward to Yasmin North learning more about his naughty side very, very much.
CHAPTER FIVE
Yasmin
The next morning dawned gray and humid.
It was clear from the moment Yasmin woke to gaze out her bedroom window that the sun would eventually win the battle over the clouds, but until then, the sky was ugly and the air almost too thick to breathe. The day matched her mood precisely as she swung into Dottie’s Diner at half past nine, a full thirty minutes before her meeting with the sperm donor. She intended to be fully caffeinated and ready to do battle before TheArkIsAMyth walked through that door.
The ark is a myth…
What kind of man had an e-mail handle like that? Was he an archeology enthusiast researching artifacts from the Indiana Jones movies? Part of a group determined to disprove the Old Testament? Or just your garden variety cranky atheist?
She didn’t know, but she had a bad feeling about this meeting. The man had been nice enough during their e-mail exchanges—probably more understanding than the average Joe whose sperm had been accidentally sold—but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d already made up his mind to say no, and this meeting was just a formality.
“All the more reason to be coffee-ed up and ready for action,” she murmured to herself over the rim of her second mug of Dottie’s synapse-enhancing brew.
By the time she’d finished her third, she was firing on all cylinders, only seconds away from laying eyes on the man who would provide the other half of her baby making equation, and ready to plead her case. Unfortunately, she also had to pee. Bad. Like, really bad.
Biting her lip, she waved at Viv, her waitress, across the room. The kind-eyed woman dropped a check at another table and hustled over even faster than usual. “What’s up, hon?” she asked. “Is he a no-show?”
“No, I think he’s going to show,” Yasmin said, casting a glance at the sidewalk outside, but still catching no sign of a tall, dark, double-PhD-holding man in his early thirties. “But I have to hit the ladies. If he comes in can you let him know I’ll be right back?”
“Will do,” Viv said. “And this table is yours for as long as you need it. I already made sure everyone knows the corner is reserved for the morning.”
“Thank you so much,” Yasmin said, sliding out of the booth.
“No worries.” Viv reached out, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. “I’m rooting for you, babe. I think it’s great that you’re going for this, making the kind of life and family you want, no matter what anyone else has to say about it.”
Yasmin’s smile puckered in the middle. “Yeah, well, assuming everything goes as planned, I may have to bring some of my mom’s friends in here for a chat. Apparently a couple members of her book club think I’m crazy.”
Viv laughed. “Well, you know what I always say: You aren’t living life to the fullest if someone doesn’t think you’re crazy.”
“I would laugh,” Yasmin said, hedging toward the restrooms. “But I have to pee too bad.”
Viv laughed harder. “Go, girl. I got this. And I’ll get you a refill on your coffee.”
“Bless you,” Yasmin said, bolting toward the back of the diner.
She was in the ladies’ for maybe three minutes—five, tops—but when she emerged from the bathroom, shaking her hands lightly at her sides because the dispenser was out of paper towels, her wait had ended. There he was, sitting at the corner table with his hands folded and a pensive expression on his face, Mr. Super Smart with his super squirmy sperm that the doctor had assured her made her chances of getting pregnant the first time around very good.
And he was every bit as handsome and tall and intelligent-looking as she’d been promised.
He was also familiar. Very familiar.
Cursing beneath her breath, Yasmin ducked back into the bathroom hallway, out of sight, her heart pounding as her mind raced, making the connections. It made sense now. His e-mail was TheArkIsAMyth because his name was Noah. Noah Riley, Mason’s sexy cousin who was apparently every bit as smart and accomplished as the other Riley in town.
Her knight in faded blue jeans with the dancing dark brown eyes and the butt that wouldn’t quit, who she had been looking forward to decompressing with tonight, was the reason for her stressful morning.
And you’re the reason for his crazy morning.
Crazy, Yasmin, that’s the word he used.
There’s no way he’s going to say yes and your date night just went down in a blaze of ugly, black, sperm-sample-scented smoke.
She cursed again, gazing down at the simple brown tee shirt and khaki linen pants she’d chosen for this meeting. The voice of doom was probably right, and her outfit certainly wasn’t going to help her case any.
She was dressed to deliver meals on wheels to the elderly, not seduce a man into seeing her side of an argument. If she’d known Noah was the man she was meeting, she would have put on her flirty green sundress and peacock feather earrings. She hadn’t missed the way he’d looked at her yesterday. The man was interested, and she wasn’t above using that interest to get what she needed from him.
Might not be as hard as you think, girl.
Play your cards right and you can probably get what you need from Mr. Riley the old fashioned way. If you know what I’m saying…
The thought made her cheeks go hot.
Yasmin would be lying if she said she hadn’t entertained some late night fantasies about what it would be like to have Noah Riley’s big, strong hands sliding across her skin, his full lips warm against hers and his taste on her tongue, but that wasn’t going to happen. She didn’t want a baby daddy; she wanted a sperm donor who had no legal rights to her child.
She couldn’t be trusted to pick out a solid, steady, non-serial-killing boyfriend, let alone a father for her unborn baby. She needed Noah’s sperm with no strings attached, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t use all the tools at her disposal to get it.
There wasn’t time to run home, but Julie’s clothing shop was just down the street. If she could sneak past Noah and out the door, she could run down the street, buy something seductively cute, yet still respectable-woman-who-should-be-trusted-to-raise-a-child to wear and be back in ten minutes. Fifteen tops. She would be a few minutes late to the meeting, but it would be worth it to know she was dressed for success.
Decision made, Yasmin leaned forward, letting her hair fall around her face as she
crept slowly out of the bathroom hallway. She moved down the row of happily chatting, laughing diners at the back of the restaurant, deliberately avoiding the corner booth and aimed herself for the door, the clink of silverware and the hum of conversation covering her footsteps.
She had made it past the hostess stand and could practically taste the freedom of the sidewalk outside when a bright blue blob attacked from her left flank.
“Yasmin! So good to see you, sweetheart!” The blue blob—Mrs. Finch, a member of her mother’s book club and proud participant in the Sapphire Falls Blue Brigade, a group of citizens committed to spreading Sapphire sunshine and good will around town—enfolded her in a soft, smothering hug so intense her feet left the ground. “So glad you’re back in town to stay!”
“Hi, Mrs. Finch.” Yasmin grunted, fighting the urge to squirm free and make a run for the door. She couldn’t afford to cause a scene or attract Noah’s attention, and Mrs. Finch would definitely cause a scene if Yasmin tried to escape without at least a few moments of friendly banter. “How are you? And Teensy?”
Teensy was Mrs. Finch’s ancient Chihuahua, an adorable little white dog who suffered from Hanging Tongue syndrome and numerous other ailments her owner was always eager to share with anyone willing to listen.
“Teensy is as well as can be expected, but let’s talk about you, darling,” Mrs. Finch said, surprising her. “What’s this I hear from your mother, about you raising a baby all alone?”
As Mrs. Finch set her back on her feet, Yasmin mentally scrambled for the best way to put a quick end to this conversation. She couldn’t look over her shoulder to see if Noah was watching the exchange from across the restaurant—she couldn’t risk him seeing her face—but she sensed her luck was running out. She had to play to Finch’s concerned citizen side and hope it would override her meddling one.
A glance behind the older woman revealed the long table on the right side of the restaurant was packed with people dressed in bright blue. The members of the Blue Brigade were out in force, fortifying themselves for a day of spreading love and good will throughout the community and Yasmin intended to use that to her advantage.
“I would love to talk about that sometime,” Yasmin said, pasting a smile on her face. “I’m sure you have some interesting thoughts about single parenthood, but I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t bring up some Blue Brigade business first. Did you know that the man with the reptile exhibit next to my mother’s petting zoo only had two paying customers yesterday? Two! And he went to all the trouble to put together such a nice selection of snakes and lizards and some giant toads that are a real thrill to look at.”
Mrs. Finch’s plush face dimpled. “Aren’t toads amphibians?”
“They are,” Yasmin said, nodding as she inched toward the exit. “But I think when it comes to reptiles and amphibians that it’s the thought that counts.”
Mrs. Finch’s confused expression deepened.
“And the thought here was clearly a need to share a love of exotic, cold-blooded creatures with the people of Sapphire Falls,” Yasmin hurried on. “And if that’s not worthy of some Sapphire Sunshine, I don’t know what is.”
“Well, I—”
“So if you could swing by his exhibit today and have a look around, that would be so great,” Yasmin said, reaching for the door. “And we can talk more then. I’ll be helping Mom all afternoon and have nothing but time to listen.”
“All right, then.” Mrs. Finch shook her head gently. “But I hope you will listen, dear. I know how you are when you’ve got your heart set on something, but raising a baby alone is hard work. And I can’t help thinking this sperm donor thing is a bad idea. I mean, this man might look good on paper, but who knows what he’s really like. For all we know, he could be a serial killer, too.”
Yasmin’s stomach bottomed out, and a sour taste flooded through her mouth.
It was the worst thing Mrs. Finch could have said. The absolute worst. But before Yasmin could recover from the verbal punch to the gut, a deep voice sounded from behind her, proving her firmly held belief that no matter how bad things are they can always get worse.
“It’s true; I could be a serial killer.”
Yasmin turned slowly until she was gazing up into the very sexy, very unamused brown eyes of none other than Noah Riley.
CHAPTER SIX
Yasmin
Before Yasmin could think of the right thing to say at a moment like this, Mrs. Finch broke into nervous giggles. A moment later, she had bustled around Yasmin, knocking a small stack of menus off the hostess stand as she moved toward Noah with her hand held out.
“So you’re the donor! Oh my goodness, you are handsome. And so tall!” Mrs. Finch turned back to Yasmin, blue eyes wide in her moon-shaped face. “Isn’t he handsome, Yasmin?”
Yasmin nodded slowly, too sick to her stomach to think of anything to say.
“And you two would have a beautiful child,” Mrs. Finch continued as she claimed Noah’s hand and pumped it up and down. “I hope you’ll forgive me for my comment before. It’s just that I’ve known Yasmin since she was a tiny little baby herself, and I worry about her. She’s always been headstrong.”
“I can imagine,” Noah said, meeting her gaze over Mrs. Finch’s head. “Her e-mails have been very…determined.”
“Determination is the most important tool in the quest for satisfaction.” Yasmin tried to smile, but her lips only trembled a moment before going limp once more. She cleared her throat, willing her flagging confidence back to life. Determination couldn’t go it alone. She had to get Confidence in the ring to help out. “If you’ll excuse us, Mrs. Finch, Noah and I clearly have some things to talk about.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Finch said, clasping her hands beneath her chin. “I’ll catch up with you later, dear. After I’ve had a chance to check out those reptiles you’re so concerned about.”
As Mrs. Finch bustled away—no doubt in a hurry to tell the rest of the Blue Brigade all about the sperm donor drama happening on the other side of the restaurant—Noah’s brows drifted higher on his forehead. “Reptiles?”
“Don’t ask.” Yasmin sighed, lifting a hand to rub at her temple.
“I would like to ask,” Noah said. “It sounds like between the reptiles and poultry you’re living a pretty exciting life. But it seems we have some other things to discuss first.”
Yasmin pressed her lips together, fighting an unexpected wave of emotion. “Yeah. I guess we do. What are the chances, huh?”
“Well, how many people are there in Sapphire Falls?” he asked, shoving his big, sexy hands into the pockets of his gray pants. He was dressed like a city slicker today, in tailored pants and a black button up that emphasized the lean, muscled lines of his to-die-for body. “I’m pretty good at running probability equations in my head. I could get us a decent estimate.”
Her breath rushed out in a nervous laugh. “Right. Because you’re a genius. I know this about you. God, this is…awkward.”
“It is.” He stepped closer, adding beneath his breath, “And I don’t think it’s going to get much better. I’m pretty sure by the time we get back to our table, everyone in this diner is going to know what we’re here to talk about.”
Yasmin winced as she nodded. “Of course they will. Mrs. Finch isn’t known for her subtlety and her voice carries.” She sighed. “I’m sure most of the people here in front already heard her opinions on sperm donors.”
“I’m sure,” he agreed. “So here’s what I think we should do. Table the meeting for now. We’ve already got a date tonight. Might as well talk things over then, when we’ll have a chance to be alone.”
Yasmin blinked up at him. “Really? You-you still want to have dinner tonight?”
“I do. I’ll bring a picnic, and we can stake out a spot far from the madding crowd. Barbecue sandwiches and beer okay? Or would you prefer something different?”
“Barbecue and beer are great,” she said, forehead tightening. “But Noah, real
ly, we don’t have to have dinner. I understand if you—”
“We’re having dinner,” he said, shutting her down with a firmness that sent prickles across her skin. And then he reached out and took her hand, squeezing it lightly in his, and the prickles became tingles of awareness. “See you at six. Outside Julie’s. I’ll be the guy with the picnic basket and blanket.”
“Okay,” Yasmin said, not trusting herself to say anything else, not when her blood was starting to rush and the urge to step closer to Noah’s warm, strong body was pulsing through her veins. She was definitely attracted to this man, no doubt about it, which probably meant she should run after him, cancel their date, and head back to Omaha to start combing through the list of potential donors all over again.
Instead, she watched Noah Riley stride down the sidewalk outside the windows, walking like a man who knew exactly what he wanted and how he was going to get it, and wondered what the heck was going to happen tonight.
Was he going to let her down easy? Or were they going to end up on that blanket he said he was bringing, making out under the stars?
Both options were upsetting for different reasons, but one thing was for certain—her simple plan had just gotten even more complicated.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Noah
Noah spent half the day telling himself that the fact that Yasmin was the woman who wanted to have his baby didn’t change his decision in any way. The logic was still the same, as were the consequences of contributing genetic material to a child who wouldn’t be a part of his life.
He spent the other half of the day trying not to be turned on by the thought of getting Yasmin in the family way in a more…traditional manner. Of her clever mouth moving beneath his and her hands on his skin and her strong, curvy legs wrapped around his waist while he showed her how much more fun it was to try to conceive with the real thing instead of a turkey baster.