Hold Me Close (Bridgewater County 4)

A flicker of hope made me sit up straight. I didn’t need the man, I needed the sperm. I stared at Lulu as I thought it through some more. It would be a lot of responsibility. A huge step to take on my own. But the idea had merit. And the thought of being able to move forward with my life and my dreams, to not be held back by my stupid fears and hangups…it was tempting.

It was more than tempting. It was fascinating.

My little sister might be on to something.

CHAPTER SIX

ETHAN

I was in a foul mood when I walked into the office. Not only did a thunderstorm wash out the trail to one of our usual group picnic spots, but the sous chef quit for a job in Miami. I was tired in a way no amount of coffee would solve. And when I saw Rachel’s empty desk instead of the woman of my dreams behind it, I became even more annoyed.

It had been far too long since that damn night in the parking lot and despite Matt’s optimism, she showed no signs of thawing toward us. Oh, she was all bright and cheerful for the other staff members, but when we were alone in the administrative area, she was like a glacier, thawing toward us at such a slow pace, the change wasn’t even visible.

She’d been pissed at us for a solid month. Thirty days of fantasies instead of getting my hands on her and living out every single one of them. I looked forward to seeing her every day at the office, gleaning all I could from her. Her scent, her voice. And when I took in her vacant spot, remembered she’d gone to a doctor’s appointment, I wanted to kick the trash can through the window.

When she’d asked for the day off, I wanted to ask if she was all right. She hadn’t looked sick, and I certainly would have noticed if she changed even her hairstyle. I’d tried not to hover ever since. A boyfriend could ask personal health questions, but not a boss. And I wasn’t her fucking boyfriend, dammit, since she’d made that distinction perfectly clear. If I asked, it would be an invasion of privacy.

I’d been following the plan Matt and I came up with—giving her space and hoping she would warm up to us. To show her we were nice guys. Normal. Hell, I’d laid it out there that night in the lot when we’d crashed her date. Instead of warming up to us, she’d put up even more of a wall. Now it wasn’t just Matt she was giving the polite-but-distant act to, it was me, too. Maybe it was time to admit this plan wasn’t working.

That was what I mulled over as I glowered at Rachel’s empty desk. There was no way in hell either of us would ever give up on making her ours. With every day I spent in her company, I only became more convinced. She was the one for us.

I thought I’d made it clear that night we wanted her as our woman. Was it possible she hadn’t understood? Or maybe she just wasn’t interested. No, I’d seen interest there, at least before we’d fucked it all up.

But this was destiny. She was our fate. Maybe it was time to push a little, to take her to dinner, maybe even a trail ride. Something to get time alone with her out of the office. She needed to see us as men, not her damn bosses.

I might not have grown up in a Bridgewater family—my dad took off when I was a baby—but I watched my mom find her happily ever after with my two stepfathers when I was off at college. Besides that, I’d grown up watching my friends with Bridgewater families have the kind of secure, loving family I’d always wanted. I wanted that with Rachel. To share her love with Matt, to become a family of our own.

So what was the hold up? Rachel. No, this wasn’t Rachel’s problem. It was ours. It was the Bridgewater men’s responsibility to show their woman what it could be like. We hadn’t done that.

Yet.

This “keeping our distance” plan was not working and I was running out of patience. There had to be a way to prove to Rachel how serious we were. How good it could be. No, not could. Would.

When the phone at her desk rang, I walked over to pick it up. As I gave the caller the run-down on the services we offered, I caught myself idly staring at the things on her desk. There were a few pictures of her sister’s baby, which wasn’t a surprise. Emmy had brought the little girl by to meet everyone and watching Rachel with her had been more than I could bear.

Rachel’s whole demeanor had changed as she lit up with joy. Her eyes had been filled with warmth as she’d cuddled the baby close and all I could think about was how much I’d love to see her holding our baby.

Soon, I promised myself. Matt and I would come up with a way to get through to her one way or the other and if she wanted a baby, we’d start a family with her. The idea of filling her with our seed, watching as she swelled with our child? I stifled a groan as I said goodbye to the prospective guest.

My eye caught on a note she’d scribbled for herself on the pad next to the phone. There were two numbers there, one for a place called CyroBank and one for SeattleSperm.

What the hell?

SeattleSperm? There couldn’t be any confusion on what that business was.

My blood rushed in my ears so loudly I didn’t hear Matt come in until he was standing next to me.

“You all right, Ethan? You look like you’re having a stroke.”

I snapped out of the shocked trance and turned to face him, holding up the notepad like it was evidence in court. I waved it back and forth and he grabbed the pad from my hands.

“She’s gone off to have a baby.”

“A baby? Are you crazy? Rachel’s not even pregnant.”

I spun around, pointed at her neat handwriting. “Read it.”

Matt was understandably confused until he finally looked. His stunned gaze met mine. “No. Hell, no.” He dropped the notepad back on her desk. “There’s no way in hell we’re letting her have some stranger’s baby.”