Her Motherhood Wish (Parent Portal 3)

The insecure hormonal being that had taken over her body wanted to play coy and ask what he meant. That person who wasn’t acting like the Cassie she knew wanted confirmation that he was talking about her. That she’d put him in his current state of physical distress.

Cassie wasn’t giving in to emotions that weren’t valid. She had enough real-life drama to deal with.

The lawyer in me wants to tell you I’m sorry. The woman in me is over here beaming.

She turned off the television to read the text messages.

So that’s it? That’s all that’s been going on here? That’s why you’ve changed?

She hadn’t realized he’d noticed. And was ready to cry happy tears because he had. And cared. But he was acting like her constant desire to jump his bones was a small thing.

Yes.

She’d never had a one-night stand in her life. And didn’t want one.

Nor was she going to risk trapping him.

He was taking too long to respond.

I’ve typed six responses and deleted them all. I’m relieved as hell. And realize we have a situation. I currently have no workable solution.

She smiled. Curled her toes and slid back down until her head was on the pillow, one hand holding her phone, the other cradling her belly.

I feel better, anyway. She hit Send.

Me too

His response was followed by a heart emoji.

She started to cry. Happy tears. He’d just sent her love.

* * *

The next Monday evening, Wood pulled into the parking lot of Cassie’s law firm. She’d asked him to meet her at her office for dinner, instead of at a restaurant. She hadn’t said why. He supposed she was working late. And that she’d either have ordered in dinner or they’d eat out of vending machines. Either was fine with him.

They’d texted every night since that fateful conversation. Neither of them had mentioned the subject for which they had no solution. But she was no longer being distant with him, and that seemed to make his world right again. At least in the moment. He needed more from her. A whole lot more. Physically and otherwise—physically, more and more—but knew that to rush things could blow the rest of their lives. And any chance he’d have to share his son’s life.

She’d told him that the receptionist would be gone when he arrived, but that he could push a buzzer and someone would come let him in. At the time, the plan had seemed fine. He was completely amenable. He wanted to see her.

Then he entered the heavy glass door of a building he’d only ever seen finished from the outside. He’d showered after work, but his shorts and flip-flops definitely felt out of place in the marbled plushness awaiting him. When he’d been picturing vending machines, she’d obviously been telling him fine dining.

At least in terms of setting. So him to go for the vending machine version.

He’d been about to turn around and leave, text her, maybe with an excuse to be late or a request for a switch to Tuesday for dinner, when she came out into the lobby through a smaller door off to his left.

In a black dress, matching jacket and black heels with white polka-dot bows on the top, she fit right in with the place. Her long hair was down, flowing around her shoulders, and he could hardly breathe.

“I was watching for you,” she said, smiling like she was glad to see him—and like she didn’t find one single thing wrong with his appearance. She pointed to a security camera he hadn’t yet noticed.

“Come on back,” she told him, and because she was happy he was there, because he wanted to spend what time with her he could, he followed her.

* * *

Cassie couldn’t remember a time when she’d been so unsure of herself. Everything was ready. Including the fact that she knew two of the partners were working late that night, both with evening client appointments, and would be in the office long after Wood was gone. They both knew he was going to be there. They knew she was hosting a small dinner, using the kitchen in the firm to keep the food warm.

They would both assume he was a client. She hadn’t said he wasn’t.

Nervous and excited for no explicable reason, she led him to her office door. It wasn’t her house, but it was still home to her. She was going to have Wood in her personal space, and that felt so good.