Hold Me Close (Bridgewater County 4)

The moment she turned the corner, we were down the hall, our long strides eating up the distance in two seconds flat and busting into Rachel’s room. She was seated in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, a tabloid magazine in her lap. Her head snapped up as we barged in and her eyes widened with shock. Or maybe it was horror…

“Ethan! Matt? What are you doing here?”

Yup, it was horror. Her pretty fair skin turned red as she looked from me to him and back with those overly wide green eyes

“What are you doing here?” Matt asked.

I didn’t think she could turn any redder, but I was wrong. Her lips thinned and she wasn’t going to respond, even though the answer was obvious.

“We’re here to stop you,” I said. If I’d taken a moment to think before I’d spoken, I might have come up with something better. Something that didn’t have her staring at me like I’d just lost my mind.

“What he means is, we wanted to talk to you,” Matt said. I noticed he’d taken off his hat and was twisting it in his hands in a rare show of uncertainty. He looked around the sterile, cold room and I could see he was just as terrified as I was. We were losing her—our woman, the one we’d been waiting all our lives for—for a vial of damn sperm.

“You want to talk here?” she said, her voice little more than a squeak. “Now?”

I didn’t know where to start. We needed time. She needed time to get to know us and to realize we were the men for her. “Don’t you think you’re rushing into this?”

She looked like I’d slapped her. For a second, she just stared at me with her mouth partially open. Then she let me have it, stepping up to me and jabbing her finger in my chest. “What on earth gives you the right to come in here and share your opinion on…this.” She seemed to struggle with how to say it. I heard her, every word, but I was growing hard at the fiery anger, the way she was giving me hell and the fact that she was actually touching me. Yeah, she was poking me with her damn finger, but my cock didn’t seem to care.

“And what exactly is this?” I countered. If she couldn’t even say it, she wasn’t ready to commit to this path. “What are you doing here?”

Her eyes widened even further, this time to let me know that I clearly had a screw loose. “What do you think I’m doing here? I’m going to get pregnant.”

“With some stranger’s baby,” Matt finished, his voice laced with anger. Or maybe it was hurt. I couldn’t bring myself to look away from Rachel to see his expression.

“Yes,” she said, her face turning crimson again. She crossed her arms over her chest, her breasts only lifting beneath her summer dress. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“It sure as hell is our business,” Matt said, his voice rising dangerously.

CHAPTER SEVEN

ETHAN

This time it was my turn to step in before Matt said or did something we’d both regret…again.

“Rachel, we’re not here to judge you, it’s just—”

“That is exactly what you’re doing,” Rachel said, glancing at Matt, then me. “You’ve invaded my privacy, completely overstepped your bounds as my employers, and now you’re here—at my sperm bank—to tell me that I’m making a mistake.”

Matt made a noise that sounded like a growl, but she held up a hand. “What right do you have to be here?” Before we could answer, she continued, narrowing her eyes. “The answer is none. I am your employee, nothing more.”

“But why like this?” Even I could hear the desperation in Matt’s voice. “You’re young, beautiful, smart…there’s no rush, is there?”

She whirled on him, her ponytail whipping around. This time, he got the chest poke. “I’m ready to start a family,” she said. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted, so why not start now?”

Matt ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Now’s fine, but not with a damn turkey baster. Why not wait to meet a man and—”

“If I wait for a man, it’ll never happen.” Rachel’s cheeks were still pink and her voice was filled with an emotion I couldn’t place, but it made me want to hold her close. Something wasn’t right here. This wasn’t just about her being ready. That she wanted a baby as soon as possible.

I didn’t want her to feel like we were ganging up on her, even though that was exactly what we were doing. “Why not?” I asked, my voice much calmer than it had been.

She noticed and so did Matt if the raising of his eyebrows was any indication.

She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Trust me, it just won’t happen. Not anytime in this century.”

“Why not?” Matt asked again. He moderated his growl to match my softer tone.

“I don’t want to say.”