Her Motherhood Wish (Parent Portal 3)

Because that was Wood.

And unless she wanted to carry a lifetime of regret, unless she was willing to be the woman who trapped him, there was no way she could give in to the feelings for him growing inside her.

And no way she could believe any feelings he had for her were real love, either.

Chapter Sixteen

Wood stayed at dinner far longer than he’d planned. Their food arrived, they ate some it, the plates were removed, he paid the bill, and he and Cassie sat there, sharing memories of their childhoods. Which moved into conversation about raising a son with awareness instead of privilege as much as possible. About helicopter and lawnmower parenting—hovering over your child too much, and just plain mowing down everything in his path.

And they talked about siblings. Because her childhood had lacked them. And his entire life had been shaped by having one.

Which led him to think about Alan. And how great it was to have a brother. To be a brother.

“If you remain single, do you see yourself having more children?” he asked, in spite of the time pressing at his back. He wasn’t going to make it to the workshop that night.

Her brow creased, and a shadow blew over her expression. “I have no idea,” she said. “Growing up an only child with three parents, I always told myself I’d have at least two kids, because not having a sibling is so hard, but now...” She shrugged. “I turned out okay. And I’ve got great memories from a mostly happy childhood. And right now... I just pray that Alan thrives, is born healthy and that I can give him a happy life.”

He nodded, saddened that her dreams could have to change but knowing that life seldom worked out as one perceived it should.

“I feel a lot more empowered to give him that happy life now that I know you’re going to be a part of it. Not just that he’ll know his father, but that his father is you...”

He needed to reach for her hand. To lean across the table and kiss her. And, of course, he could do neither of those things. He wanted to offer up his sperm if she ever did decide to have another child.

“We should probably get going,” Cassie said while he was still rejecting the responses he wanted to make to her comment, trying to find one that would be acceptable. She pulled her satchel up onto the table. Retrieved her keys. “I’ve still got work to do tonight.”

It was almost eleven. Standing, he pulled his keys out of his pocket and followed her out the door. Walked her to her car. Couldn’t just let her leave.

“You’ve given me the greatest gift I’ve ever had,” he told her as they stood beside her door, face-to-face, looking at each other. Not touching, because they couldn’t. “And if I had a choice of all the women I’ve ever known to be the mother of my son, it would still be you.”

Her smile was tremulous, her eyes glistening beneath the parking lot security lights. When her arms reached out for him again, as they had Wednesday after the ultrasound, he stepped into them. Wrapped his arms around her. Took a deep breath, memorizing. Brushed his lips against her temple.

And let go.

* * *

Wood was barely in his truck when his phone rang. He clicked answer before the caller ID number popped up on his dash screen, grinning. Cassie, being Cassie, was probably now going to apologize for the hug.

“Hey,” he answered, his voice soft and filled with the emotion that overtook him any time she was around. Or he thought of her.

An emotion he wasn’t willing to analyze.

“Wood?” Elaina. She sounded upset.

Instantly changing gears, his chest tight with concern, he said, “Yeah, what’s wrong? Where are you?” He’d head in that direction immediately.

“I’m at home. I just...when I got home and you weren’t here, and there wasn’t a note... I just got worried. You’re okay?”

He understood the panic. Immediately. “I’m fine,” he said. “Just let time get away from me. I’m on my way home now.”

The pause that followed his words made him feel like a heel. They always left notes. Always. And while he no longer needed their contact to be that all-consuming, and didn’t think it was good for her, either, he should communicate the change, not just leave her hanging.

He should have let her know he’d be out. Such a simple thing. One he’d always done without thought.

And he’d forgotten.

“It’s okay,” Elaina said, then, her tone kind. And healthier sounding. “Seriously. Don’t feel like you have to come home on my account. I’m actually sorry I called. I just...you’re always here...and I thought...”

He’d been in an accident. It happened. Without warning. She’d lost her parents that way. And then Peter. He’d lost, too.