Page 11 of Most Likely to Fear Love

“Yeah, I was thinking...” He rubbed the back of his neck, like he was nervous. Well, that was very fucking endearing. “Iunderstand that two or three tries during the ovulation window can be really helpful.”

Never, in my life, did I imagine I would be standing at my front door discussing my ovulation window with a giant, incredibly hot, Viking. “Uh, yes. That’s correct.”

“So, on that basis, would you like me to come by tomorrow? With another sample, I mean.”

The words hung in the air between us for a moment while I blinked, processing what he’d said. I guess I looked a little confused, because he continued, “I know the agreement only includes once per month, but I’ve got nothing else on, so it’s no hassle.”

“Oh! Um, yes. That would be... that would be great.”

There was that smile again. “Great. What time works for you?”

I mentally scanned my schedule for the next day. “How about around three? I have a light day at the office so I can get back early.”

“Three it is.” He took a step back, still smiling. “Have fun tonight, Cassidy.”

“Thanks, Harle. See you tomorrow.”

I held the door slightly ajar as he walked back to his truck. I mean, who wouldn’t? The back view was almost as good as the front. It was only when he was backing down the drive that I closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a long exhale.

Tomorrow. Three O’clock. Another chance.

I pushed off from the door, heading to my bedroom.

Slipping my panties off, I sat on the edge of my bed with the bag clutched in my hand. The sterile insertion kit was where I’d left it, in my nightstand draw. I pulled it out and unwrapped the syringe. For a moment, I just stared at it, this little piece of medical equipment that could change my entire life. I swallowedhard, my mouth suddenly dry. This was it. Another chance at becoming a mom.

With trembling fingers, I opened the bag and removed the small container inside. It was warm, a reminder of how recently Harle had produced it. I felt my cheeks flush at the thought. Of course, I started picturing the process. Did he do it in bed? In the shower? In his truck? Naked, or with his clothes on?

“Stop it, you freak.”

This was just biology, I reminded myself. Clinical. Practical. I prepared the syringe and lay back on the bed, positioning a pillow under my hips and spreading my legs.

With my hands still shaky, I positioned the syringe.

“Get it together, Cass,” I muttered to myself as I pushed the blunt, rubber tip inside me. It wasn’t the worst feeling in the world as I squeezed my eyes shut and gently depressed the other end. It was over in seconds, leaving me lying there, staring at the ceiling, willing the little swimmers to do their job.

As I waited, my mind drifted back to Harle. The way he’d looked at me on the porch, how his t-shirt had clung to his muscular frame. I felt a flush creep up my neck that had nothing to do with the procedure I’d just completed.

“This is ridiculous.” My voice echoed around my empty bedroom. “He’s just the donor. That’s all.”

It didn’t matter how many times I told myself that it was just science, or biology, or whatever. Because that wasn’t really all. He was kind, thoughtful, and let’s face it, ridiculously hot. And he was coming back tomorrow.

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. What was I getting myself into?

I pushedthrough the creaky double doors of Lacey’s Bar & Grill. The scent of beer and burgers hit first, then the familiar buzz of chatter and clinking glasses washing over me like a warm hug, mingling with the faint twang of an old country song crackling from the juke box.

I spotted the girls right away. A whole cluster of them laughing it up around a high-top near the back. Of course, they’d snagged the spot with the best view of the pool tables and the stage.

I weaved through the Friday night crowd, my shoes sticking to the worn, stained carpet as I went.

“Cass!” Poppy’s pink hair bounced as she waved, her blue eyes sparkling. She’d traded her usual flour-covered apron for a cute floral dress that highlighted her curves.

Emily stretched her long frame from her perch on the bar stool to pull me in for a hug, her beauty queen looks on full display. “Hey, you.”

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.”

“Hiya.” Maya’s park ranger uniform was replaced with jeans and a nice jacket that showed off her tall, athletic build. Since she was stuck on the other side of the table, she settled for raising her glass at me.

Emily’s cousin Mia was next, her gray eyes crinkling at the corners when she smiled at me. Her wavy brown hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and her sales manager persona was nowhere in sight. “You’re not that late. Only a few minutes. It was just that I had a shit day and couldn’t wait.”

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