Page 10 of Baby for My Best Friend's Brother

“They really do love you,” I muse aloud. “You’re a natural.”

Cliff shrugs. “They’re just kids. Kids are easy”

“You’re still good with them.”

“I guess,” he mutters. “They’re fun to be around.”

“Do you want kids someday?” The question is out before I can stop it.

Cliff stiffens slightly, then shrugs again.

“Sure. Someday,” he says. My heart hitches again as I imagine mini Cliffs running around a wooded backyard not unlike this one. “But not for a long time.”

The words hit me like a splash of cold water.

“Oh.” I try to keep my voice neutral, but something in me deflates.

“Why?” he asks. “You thinking about it?”

“Something like that.” I smile, but it’s small. “I’ve always wanted to be a mom. I guess lately it’s felt more… pressing.”

I don’t bother mentioning that even with medical advancements, women tend to have more of a ticking time bomb when it comes to making babies.

“Well, you’d be great at it,” he says. “I mean it.”

“Thanks.”

The kids call us back before I can say anything else.

We spend another hour playing with them—me pretending everything is fine, and Cliff pretending he didn’t just kiss me like it mattered.

When we finally return to the adults, I’m exhausted, grass-stained, and somewhere between sexually frustrated and emotionally torn.

It’s a really conflicting mixture of emotions .

Winter eyes me curiously as I approach. “Did you have fun?”

“I did.”

But I also have a lot to think about.

Because I came to Alaska for her and one last adventure before my greatest adventure of all.

I didn’t expect Cliff.

Or that kiss.

And how much I suddenly wish that our little game of playing house wasn’t pretend at all.

FOUR

CLIFF

“Remind me again why we're doing this?” I scowls as I kick at a loose floorboard.

Our town’s community center has been turned into a makeshift ballroom. Or, as close to a ballroom as you can get in a place that also masquerades as a BINGO hall, VFW, and Elk’s Lodge.

I’d rather be playing BINGO with the old ladies in town than taking this damn dance class. And they still pinch my cheeks, even though I’m well into my thirties.

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