Sheri WhiteFeather – Nashville Rebel (страница 6)
“Are you okay, Soph?”
She glanced up to find Tommy watching her. “I was just...”
He searched her gaze. “Making a decision about us?”
She nodded, struggling to keep her shameful appetite for him from running amok. “Maybe we should talk about—”
“Are you willing to sleep with me to make this happen? I don’t want to pressure you. Maybe we should—”
“I’ll sleep with you. But we’re not having a random affair.”
“I never said this was going to be random, Soph. We’ll be doing this to make a baby. Granted, I’ve always wanted you, but I’m not going to lose sight of our agenda. I’d still like for it to be romantic, though.”
She couldn’t concentrate on how romantic he wanted it to be. She was trying to hold tight to her emotions. Even with as gentle as he seemed, he was still a playboy, and she was still the woman who was supposed to know better. Deflecting the romance, she said, “There will be certain times that’ll be my best chance for conceiving.”
“And when will that be?”
“In another week or so.” Trying to alleviate the heat dashing through her veins, she presented the clinical side. “Most women ovulate in the middle of their cycle, with about five to six fertile days each month. When we’re together, I’ll use a test for accuracy.”
He furrowed his brow. Clearly, she was talking over his head. “How long do you think it’ll take?”
“For me to get pregnant? I don’t know. But on the average, most fertile couples conceive within six months.”
He tapped a finger against his mouth. “Maybe we should do it more often to be sure. When Mack and Jean were trying to have their kids, that’s what they did.”
“Mack told you that?” He was Tommy’s drummer; she mostly knew him to be a private person.
“No. But at the last party at my house, I overheard Jean talking to some of the other band wives and girlfriends about it.”
Sophie hadn’t been included in that conversation. Of course, she wasn’t one of the band wives or girlfriends, either. “You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping on them.”
“Are you kidding? I love to hear the stuff chicks yap about.” He waggled his eyebrows. “So what do you say? Should we try Mack and Jean’s method?”
The notion spun through her like a tornado. “Don’t get smart, Tommy. Not now.”
His expression became somber. “I know you’re crossing a line you never intended to cross by being with me. And you’re right—I shouldn’t be cracking jokes. But I still think my idea warrants consideration.”
“All right. I’ll think about it. I might even discuss it with my doctor, to see what he thinks is advisable.” She was trying to keep things in perspective, even if her body was hungry for his. “Also, there’s one more thing. Before we go any further, you need to see your doctor and get a sperm-count test.” She wasn’t an expert on semen analysis, but she wanted to be sure there weren’t going to be any problems in that regard. She’d already had her AMH level tested, making certain she was fertile. “The men on the donor sites are required to have above-average counts.”
“Gee, nothing like putting me under pressure.” He nudged her foot, tapping his boot against her slipper. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do. Because one way or another, we’re going to make a baby. And I promise we’re going to have lots of fun trying.”
She didn’t doubt that. But for now, she needed to catch her breath. She stood and moved completely away from him, letting the gravity of the agreement they’d just made sink in.
After all of these years, they would finally be together.
Eager to see Sophie again and share the results of his doctor’s visit, Tommy drove to her house. Only three days had passed since they’d made a decision about the baby business, but if next week was going to be a prime time to conceive, he wanted to be ready.
He drove onto her ranch and parked, then hopped out of his truck and went into the barn. He’d texted her earlier, and she’d told him that was where she would be.
She was hard at work, mucking out a stall, and didn’t seem to notice he’d arrived. He stepped back to admire her, with her dirt-smudged jeans and her hair coiled into a messy bun.
“Need some help?” he asked, announcing his presence. He couldn’t stand here all day like a teenager with his heart pounding.
She spun around. “Oh, my goodness, you scared me.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”
“It’s okay. I’m about done anyway.” She finished the job and patted the mare in the stall.
After she put away the rake, she dusted her hands on her pants. Tommy always thought that she was a fine little cowgirl. When they were kids, she had the gumption to keep up with him, and that was saying a lot. He used to drag her along on his reckless escapades. And now, as adults, they were going to do the most reckless thing of all and make a baby.
She drank water from a canteen and asked, “So what’s up? What important news do you have to tell me?”
“I saw my doctor, and my sperm count is great.” Then in an old codger’s voice, he jokingly added, “Those young whippersnappers on that donor site got nothing on me.”
She rewarded him with a laugh. “Glad to hear it.”
“So was I.” He quit goofing around and glanced at a sensual line of sweat trailing from her neck and down into the opening of her blouse. The top two buttons were undone.
She gestured for them to go outside, as if she needed a change of scenery. He walked out beside her and waited a beat before he asked, “Did you call your doctor about what’s advisable? About how often we should...”
“Yes, I called him.” She hesitated before she added, “He recommends frequent encounters, especially during my ovulation window.”
He moved closer and touched her cheek, marveling at how soft her skin was. “You’re allowed to let down your guard and enjoy it, Sophie.”
“I know.” She met his gaze, and they stared at each other.
He lowered his hand. Suddenly he felt as overwhelmed as she looked. There was another subject he wanted to discuss with her.
They headed for a shade tree. The sun was already bright in the sky. She drank more of her water, and he braced his back against the trunk, feeling the rough bark through his shirt.
Finally he said, “There’s something else I spoke to my doctor about.”
“What is it?” She sounded concerned. “What’s going on? Do you have a health issue?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. But I’ve made a decision. After you have the baby and we know everything is all right, I’m going to get a vasectomy.” He tried not to wince. The procedure itself gave him the willies, but the end result was important enough for him to follow through.
Her soulful brown eyes went big and wide. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I’m never going to be a donor again, and I don’t want to get caught up in another baby scare like I did with Kara, or accidentally make someone pregnant for real. I figured this way, there will only ever be one child in the world with my genes, and that kid will belong to you.”
“I don’t know what to say about that, Tommy.”
“You don’t need to say anything. I just wanted you to know that’s what I’ve got planned. I also want you to know that I’m going to set up a trust for the baby, for when it’s older.”
She studied him in a way that made him feel emotionally exposed. Then she said, “That isn’t necessary.”
He shrugged, using humor as his shield. “With a donor as rich and ornery as me, the kid should get something out of it.”
“You’re not ornery.” She spoke quietly, her voice as whispery as the breeze that had just kicked up.
“Maybe not, but I’ve got plenty of dough. And I want to make your son’s or daughter’s life easier.”
“Thank you.” She fussed with her hair, pressing some of the pins protruding from her messy bun back into place. “That’s really nice of you.”
He imagined her sprawled out on his bed and tangled up in his sheets, her long dark locks tumbling over a pillow. By now, the tiny trail of sweat between her breasts was making her cleavage glow. He looked away; he had to get control of himself. He knew he had to wait but she was making him hot and breathless.
“I’m going to Brandon’s office this afternoon to get his legal input.” He’d already briefed his brother over the phone, but they were going to finish their discussion in person. “Do you want to go with me?”
“I can’t. I’m meeting with Barbara today.”
Right, he thought—to sort out the details of her new job. “Okay, then. We’ll talk later, and I’ll let you know what Brandon says.” He had a pretty good idea of how her meeting was going to go. He’d already instructed Barbara to create a position for Sophie, giving her whatever she wanted. And Barbara, naturally, was delighted to do it.
She glanced toward her house. “I better go. I have to shower.”
He merely nodded, and as she bade him goodbye, he envisioned her slick and sudsy and wet. He had to keep these fantasies about her in check until it was time. But on and off he’d been having them for years. In some form or another, Sophie was always on his mind.
Brandon’s office was in the hub of Nashville, with a colorful view of the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum.
The location served as a reminder of who they were, Tommy thought, and how this city impacted them. Their daddy was featured in one of the museum’s galleries. Tommy was, too, with artifacts from his most successful tours. As for Brandon, he was an entertainment lawyer, representing the Talbots and other country heavy hitters. He was also an elected trustee at the museum. But Brandon had always been the high-class type, well-known and well-respected in Nashville society.