A Mother's Secrets (Parent Portal 4)

She’d managed to compartmentalize the actual procedure as little different from an ordinary vaginal exam. In her world, implantation was all part of their day’s work.

One key element was unaccounted for, however. What in the hell was she supposed to do with an incredibly sexy and far too endearing man in her home when he wasn’t there for anything to do with her? It wasn’t like she could suddenly install some kind of X-ray system on her stomach that would allow him to watch over the seed inside her while leaving the rest of her life alone.

And what was with all of the sudden spirals going on “down there”? Did having an embryo implanted inside you suddenly make you horny?

She’d expected cramping. Knew hormones could ratchet up the sex drive. But implantation? She’d never heard of that.

He had dinner in the oven. Was opening cupboards in her kitchen, judging by the sounds. While she lay on the couch, tablet in hand, pretending to work.

She’d just had a new life planted inside her. It was all a little nerve-racking.

“Do you eat at the dining room table or the kitchen?” He came through a small hallway from the kitchen, wiping his hands on the hand towel she’d had hanging from the oven door handle.

“I usually sit at the kitchen counter bar.” There were two stools. The kitchen table was for when she had guests over. The dining room for special occasions...

He wasn’t a guest.

Thank goodness.

The guy just had to breathe and she was aware of him there. In her home. Filling her space. Those tight, firm legs. The backside that followed suit to form a shape made for A-list actors. She stared at it as he left the room.

It had been a while since she’d had sex. A year or two. Clearly too long.

It was a little late now to do something about that. She couldn’t very well go have sex while she was carrying another man’s baby.

If the procedure was successful, she wouldn’t be having sex for another nine months. Just didn’t seem right to have another man’s body part up there with a baby trying to grow. Didn’t seem the least bit sexy to her. That would make it two or three years going without.

She hadn’t thought this through well enough.

Why hadn’t Olivia reminded her about this?

Olivia. She’d promised her friend she’d text her when she got home. So thinking, she pulled out her phone and let Olivia, who was in San Diego attending a conference, know that all had gone well. That she was home and resting as planned.

She didn’t mention that she wasn’t heating her dinner herself. Just like she didn’t mention most of the business meetings she had throughout her days. It wasn’t like she and Olivia told each other everything.

Christine wasn’t a “tell someone everything” person. Not since her mother had died.

Besides, every moment in every day came filled with new things to explore and talk about. No need to dredge up the moment that just passed...

Or ones that passed long ago. So it was a bit discomfiting to her, half an hour later, to find herself sitting side by side with Jamison Howe at her countertop bar, and finding nothing to talk about. The awkward silence was choking her as, everywhere she looked, every thought that came to mind, was filled with nonbusiness conversation.

You could only mention so many times that you hoped and prayed the procedure took. Or that it would be a hard two weeks, waiting for a definitive answer. She could take a test in a couple of days. And since her hormone levels would be in a state of flux, an early test could be wrong, either way.

They’d mentioned the fact that they had enough embryos for a couple of more tries, at least five times. Or her brain had. She wasn’t certain she’d said all the words aloud.

Jamie, as he kept insisting she call him, didn’t seem to mind the silence. Maybe he was one of those quiet, silent guys.

Which, considering she didn’t usually go for that type, preferring a guy to step right up and say his piece, boded well for her inappropriate sexual attraction to him. And not at all well for the months ahead. She could handle no drinking, carrying around extra weight, throwing up... But months on end with no conversation...?

“My Gram and Gramps used to sit here every single day for lunch.” She blurted out the words like an exploding pressure cooker. “Right here, on these two bar stools, him on the stool where you’re sitting and her, here.” There. Something got out.

Hopefully the most innocuous of the thoughts she’d been having and holding back.

“This was their house?”

She nodded. Ate with her normal healthy appetite. The enchiladas were especially good this time around. “My mom grew up here,” she said. “And so did I. In case you haven’t noticed, the place is huge. By the time my mom and dad married, the house was already getting to be too much for my gram and gramps to maintain, so the four of them decided to live together. Mom would one day inherit the house, and it wasn’t like she and Dad would be able to afford anything as nice with the way property values had risen here.”

He helped himself to another enchilada. She felt kind of good about that. Mostly she was the only one who usually knew whether the dinner she’d made had been a success or not.