“I...didn’t think anything of the kind.” Her frown drew more attention to those eyes of hers. They were mysterious, set so majestically in that striking bone structure. And then she shook her head. “Why would you...” Her voice trailed off, leaving him to fix his mess.
“I’ve been struggling to understand why a woman would choose a man with less than a high school education to father her child when there were doctors and lawyers to choose from for the same exact cost.” He looked her straight in the eye. He wasn’t ashamed of who he was. Of the choices he’d made. But he didn’t kid himself, either. A lack of education hurt a man’s potential in some ways.
Women ways, for one. His capacity to earn was potentially less.
Cassie leaned toward him. Opened her mouth to speak just as their waitress arrived at their table, requiring Cassie to sit upright so her oversize bowl of salad could be placed in front of her. Wood would have forgone lunch to hear whatever it was she’d been about to say.
He put the lettuce and tomato beside his burger in the burger where they belonged. Squirted ketchup for his fries, feeling uncomfortable and a little pissed at himself, as he sat there exposed in a way he’d never been before.
And why? The woman was a stranger to him.
“It was your essay.”
He glanced up at her words, found her watching him, her salad sitting untouched with a small ceramic carafe of dressing beside it.
“I saw your level of education, of course, and probably because of my dad didn’t put a whole lot of stock in the lack of formal schooling. I made my choice based on your essay.”
He’d reread it the other night. He’d been honest about his reason for donating—because his brother had asked him to, and supporting Peter’s efforts was important to him.
“You wrote about family,” she said. “About the gift that comes from having someone who is a part of you, who will always be a part of you, in this life and beyond.”
Yeah, he had, but only because he had to fill the word count required, not because that was his reason for donating sperm. He’d been talking about why he’d felt it important to be there for his brother. Why he’d been willing to donate a part of himself just because Peter had asked him to.
“You quit school your senior year to go to work so that you could keep him with you after your mother died,” she said.
It was a fact that supported his thesis statement. He’d needed the word count.
“That’s why I chose you,” she said. “I believe that character is, in part, genetic. And I know that, for me at least, character is far more important than being a doctor or a lawyer.”
With that she picked up the dressing, poured a generous amount all over her salad, picked up her fork and started eating.
Wood wisely followed suit.
Chapter Four
Cassie could tell she’d offended Wood. Made him feel stupid. Because she’d barreled ahead, uncharacteristically talking about her folks, wanting him to know who she was, what she came from, wanting him to like her, she’d completely spaced on his own lack of education. But even then, there was a difference between Wood and her dad. Her father had needed help, and extra time, getting through high school. Wood had chosen to quit to raise his brother.
She didn’t think less of either of them. She hoped he got that. Would have pressed the point home, except that she didn’t want to risk making the situation worse by drawing more attention to it.
She didn’t want to make him feel bad. To the contrary. He was the genetic other half of her baby. Sitting right there across from her.
She hadn’t expected his mere presence to affect her like it was doing. To draw her in, man to woman.
He picked up his burger and started eating. Chewing. Swallowing. “Do you have any other questions for me?” she asked.
He hesitated, holding his burger, but not raising it for another bite. “I do, actually,” he told her. “Probably not my business, but I’m curious... Why did you choose to go this route, with insemination, rather than a more traditional choice? Not that I think tradition is always the best or right way, but in a case like... You’re going through it all alone...”
Raising a child alone, she translated. Without a father figure. She’d worried about the lack of influence of a steady man in her child’s life.
“I’m not against marriage, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She picked around her salad with her fork. Found a piece of hard-boiled egg and stabbed.
He finally took a bite, still watching her. Lifted his napkin to his mouth and dropped it back to his lap. He was neat and tidy, she’d hand him that, from the clean shave to the straight corners on the collar of his shirt.
“To be honest, I always thought I’d grow up, fall in love and get married. I never saw myself living alone. Or doing this alone.” Oh God. Now she was sounding pitiful, and she didn’t feel that way. At all. “I’ve just never been consumed with a need or desire to be with one person over another. And I couldn’t risk doing to anyone what my mom had to do to my dad. If I’m not compelled to be with a particular person before marriage, I darn sure won’t be after that first glow wears off.”
He nodded, swallowed and, meeting her gaze, said, “I know exactly how you feel.”
“You do.” Not a question. If the man thought she needed to be humored...