Her Motherhood Wish (Parent Portal 3)

And she had her own life, too.

Ten minutes after she arrived back home, she was out on the private beach she shared with several neighbors, in a maternity swimsuit, reclining with a towel, a book, a thermos of water and her phone. There were a few others out, on both sides of her. Close enough that she could hear voices. Not so close she could make out what they were saying.

With the sun warming her skin while the light breeze caressed it, she was tempted to lie back, close her eyes and nap.

A great plan, except that she wasn’t a napper. Closed eyes during the day were viewed as an invitation to her mind to begin to spin. She opened her book, a novel that had been on the New York Times bestseller list the year she was born. Something to do with a woman who traveled the world while different parts of herself raged war inside her. And there was a man, too. She’d probably fall in love with him.

Cassie was pretty certain the hero of this book would ask the heroine on a date the first time they met. Even if she was carrying his baby.

All she’d wanted to do was have a family of her own. Not entangle herself in other people’s lives.

Wood was being sweet, but he owed her nothing. She couldn’t let him feel like he did. He was obviously a decent man. One who took responsibility very seriously. To the point that he was still sharing a home with his ex-wife.

Because he was still in love with her?

Maybe. And even if he wasn’t, he clearly felt responsible for her. The speed with which he’d answered her call, the look on his face as he’d glanced at Cassie, had made that much obvious.

Wood was in her life because she’d chosen his sperm. And called him. He was there only to try to prevent his child from serious health issues, if reason arose.

He wasn’t the father of her child.

It wasn’t fair to him, or to herself, if she didn’t keep that fact straight from the start.

Their situation...it couldn’t help but be emotional, with a baby’s life possibly in the balance. And as such, any other feelings they might feel when they were together were only growing out of that one thing they had in common. The one thing that had brought them together.

It would be completely wrong for her to think it was anything else. To confuse need, or compassion, for love.

As her mom had done with her dad.

She picked up her phone. She wasn’t going to call Wood. Seemed too familiar. Didn’t like the feel of a text, either, since it seemed private and hidden, just between the two of them.

She didn’t have his email. Or his address, not that that mattered. If she mailed a letter on Monday, it was probable that he’d get it on Tuesday, but there was no guarantee; she had to reach him before Wednesday morning, when he’d otherwise show up at her house at seven thirty and she’d be too glad to see him and too on edge about the amniocentesis to send him away.

I’ve changed my mind about Wednesday. I need to do this alone.

As she typed out the text, she had to hold her phone in the shade of her body and pull her sunglasses down her nose to reread her message. Satisfied, she hit Send.

Opened her book.

> And pretended that she didn’t feel like a soul lost out at sea.

* * *

Elaina had suggested that she and Wood drive up the coast for dinner. It was Saturday night, and neither of them had been out for a while. A comedian Elaina and Peter had introduced him to was performing at a little dinner theater they’d frequented many times, and Wood accepted the invitation, ready for a few minutes of respite from the intensity trying to rage inside him. His libido and emotions warring against facts.

In a short green fitted dress with high heels to match, his ex-wife was a beauty without even trying. Male heads always turned when he walked in a room with her. He had no idea if she ever noticed that.

And had never asked himself why the attention hadn’t ever made him jealous. Even when they’d been married, he’d never felt like she was his woman. Or his partner—not just in a sexual sense, but in a companion sense. They’d been friends, family, just not...partners.

Because he’d known better. Elaina was his brother’s wife. He’d never loved her in that way.

That night he’d managed to get a table for two close to the stage by paying a hefty sum for it. Dinner, a bourbon pork that was one of their favorites, was superb. She was nursing her one glass of wine and he’d almost finished his second beer as she glanced over at him, brows raised, and he smiled. He’d hung his jacket over the back of his chair, had already unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, and still he was warm. How guys wore suits all day long every day he could never understand. Elaina liked him in them, and so he owned one.

On the drive home, the tension that he’d been trying to ignore all night rose to critical level. It eased as he thought about waiting until the next day to talk to her. It wasn’t like Wednesday would happen overnight. He had three more days.

Cassie was alone every second that passed. Dealing with her worry, keeping her secret, alone. She’d changed her mind about letting him go with her to the appointment. He’d sensed that was coming. She’d been like a different woman after Elaina’s call. Still kind and pleasant. Just...different. He’d felt the loss—and sensed that she was feeling it, too. She’d wanted him to go with her. There’d been no mistaking that.

“You awake?” His voice broke into what should have been a relaxing, comfortable silence.