Chapter Five
Five
“Fuck me,” Tobin grumbled under her breath as she slammed her iPad shut on its keyboard case. It slipped from her lap and tumbled off the oversized couch in her open living room. She rubbed the palms of her hands over her face and groaned.
This is more absurd than Tinder.
“Isn’t that defeating the purpose?” Harrow waltzed into the kitchen, sweaty and frizzy-haired, still steaming from her morning run.
“What do you mean?” Tobin wasn’t convinced she wanted to hear the snarky answer from her dry-witted lawyer sibling, but she asked anyway. She uncrossed her legs and followed Harrow into the adjacent kitchen, joining her sister at the large quartz island.
“I assume you’re trolling sperm banks again?”
Tobin refused to answer. She pursed her lips and lifted her eyebrows in a silent admission of guilt.
“Right. So, the point of a donor is to circumvent, as you said, being fucked.”
Legalese.
“You’re not wrong. But why does it have to be so complicated?
Excusing the creep-factor that is inherent in literally shopping would-be genetic contributors, why does it feel so cheap critiquing bodies, education and personal biographies?
I wouldn’t get to hand- pick any of those if I was having a baby with a dude.
It makes me feel pretentious. I just want ten fingers, ten toes, a perfect little Buddha belly and button nose! ”
Harrow let her finish, her expression softening. “Do you want me to answer that, or do you want to tell me what provoked this stroll through the dark abyss of all things genetic?”
Tobin sighed heavily, refilling her coffee mug before wandering toward the door that opened onto the covered deck—her favorite spot in the house.
She’d chosen this lot for its secluded perch on the cliffs of Aetheridge.
Nestled in a clifftop of trees, high above the sprawling freshwater lake the town was named for, the view stretched for miles—crisp air, glacial-blue water, and skies that could shift from stormy steel to brilliant sun in a heartbeat.
It was the kind of place unique to the upper Midwest— somewhere between lake country and logging history—far enough north to see snow in April and auroras on the clearest nights. The breathtaking sweep of Lake Aether from her balcony was the home’s crowning glory.
“Come out when you’re done,” she mumbled.
She opened the door, then slid nimbly onto the outdoor sectional that sprawled across her deck, careful not to spill a drop of her black coffee. With a sigh, she stared out at the water, relishing the cool gray of the sky mirrored in the lake on this gloomy April day.
Her thoughts, however, continued to plague her.
The doctor lingered in her in mind, as did the looming hospital gala with Eddie— the one where she was almost certain to run into her again, seeing as she may be the guest of honor.
It was a lot to digest. Despite her efforts to cling to her carefully curated plans, thoughts of the doctor wheedled their way into her mind, distracting and confounding her. She was losing patience with herself.
The sound of the patio door sliding open startled Tobin from her ruminations. Harrow stepped onto the patio, protein shake in hand.
“Damn, you look lost,” Harrow curled herself into one of the cushioned wicker chairs. “I’m guessing you haven’t slept yet, have you?”
Tobin arched her brows and cocked her lips to the left, remaining silent. Harrow met her silence—but only briefly.
“Why are you so edgy? You look like an overinflated balloon ready to pop,” she prodded.
“Because.”
Harrow just stared at her, took a long drink, and continued to stare. Sisters could be maddening—caging you before drawing you out of your shell. Tobin would have been irritated if she didn’t also appreciate the patience Harrow had shown through so many missions, so many traumas and so many dramas.
Tobin exhaled and spoke, voice tight. “Eddie’s being honored at that children’s hospital gala next week, and she wants me to escort her. I love supporting her, but these things… they always remind me of Talia—or rather, the lack of Talia.”
Harrow remained quiet for a few seconds, allowing Tobin the space to continue. When the quiet stretched, Harrow set her empty shake on the end table. “T, Talia’s absence is exactly why you should escort Eddie.”
Tobin felt her sister weighing her next words and bristled in anticipation.
“I loved Talia, too,” Harrow continued. “But Talia didn’t have the strength to survive you.
Your accident changed her. It changed you both.
She learned she couldn’t lose you, and you learned you couldn’t let her.
It took integrity, and strength and a whole lot of love to let each other go.
But in letting her go, you closed yourself off—”
Tobin opened her mouth to protest, but Harrow’s courtroom poise cut her off.
Her sister’s eyes narrowed at her in exasperation, “You’ve been a shell of yourself for three years.
I admire that you’ve decided to have a child on your own—but we both know that you haven’t let go of your idyllic dream of a family.
With a wife. You can’t give up on all love, T. You gotta open your heart.”
Harrow’s face softened. “So go with Eddie. Let her be your wing woman. You know she can work a room—let it benefit you.”
Tobin had heard this argument before. She knew her sister wanted her to move on.
And she had—she wasn’t in love with Talia anymore.
She missed the idea of her more than her actual presence.
She knew they were better apart. Happier, even.
But the accident had changed her. Hardened her.
She couldn’t allow someone to get that close again, because she couldn’t survive the looks of terror and loss on the face of the woman she loved.
Talia’s fear-stricken face haunted her dreams at night, waking her in a rush of cold sweat and twisted sheets.
She wouldn’t put another woman through that.
She wanted a child, and she could make that happen without a partner.
But she couldn’t let her heart be broken by another woman she could very well break herself.
“I can’t risk hurting someone I love, Harrow. I won’t survive it again.”
“You absolutely can. Because the right woman—your wife— will feel all the things Talia felt. But instead of running away, she’ll run toward you.
She’ll hold you in that hospital bed, and whisper her love to you in that moment and all the moments you’ll share after.
She’s out there, T. You just have to open your heart to the possibility. ”
“You make it sound so much easier than it is. I can’t just shake my ghosts. It’s not that easy. I’m a wreck. And my career is dangerous. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to be hurt.”
“You, dear sister, are a fucking catch. Your career is dangerous. But I’d argue that a life without love is also dangerous. You deserve to be loved.”
“You love me. And I have LoLo and Eddie. I don’t need anyone else,” Tobin replied, defiantly. She was losing her patience. This conversation followed the same trajectory for years and hadn’t changed her mind yet. She was definitely not changing it today.
“Familial love is not the same as romantic love. Don’t be petulant.” Harrow leaned back, exasperated.
They sat for a moment, letting the embers of their argument burn out. Then Harrow suddenly leaned forward, a coy smile tugging at her lips.
“What?” Tobin asked, hesitant.
“Sex!” Harrow said with absolute confidence. “I’m guessing it’s been, what, a good year since you last got laid. Am I right?” She wore the smug look of a purebred Maine Coon with canary feathers sticking out of its mouth.
“Where are you going with this? You can’t humiliate me about my sex life. You know damn well I have a drawer full of toys—I’m
perfectly adept at taking care of myself.” Now Tobin was pissed. Who did Harrow think she was talking to? Neither of them was shy about physical pleasures; sex was a common topic between them. “I don’t have the time or patience to date right now, Harrow.”
“Wrong!” Harrow shook her finger like a gavel.
“You’re sabotaging. You need to get laid—and you need to get out of your own way to do it.
Go to that gala. Lock eyes with someone across the room.
Preferably that doctor from the other day.
Dance with her. Then bring her back here.
” A mischievous sparkle lit Harrow’s eyes.
“Maybe you should go,” Tobin shot back, desperate to derail
her. Truth was, she was definitely not satisfied with her collection of toys. She craved the emotional connection that came with sex.
It had been a long time since she’d been the Blur of her school years.
Back then, everything was reckless momentum and heat.
Now? There was very little she found sexier than connecting with a women’s mind as much as her body.
When the two came together, the thrum of carnal desire was often sated with the most explosive orgasms.
Her sister wasn’t wrong—she did want sex. She just wasn’t sure she could give her body to a woman without also giving away her heart. And she couldn’t make that mistake again.
Tobin stood and moved to the railing, letting her gaze drift over the water. Harrow stayed quiet, but Tobin’s mind was a storm. She needed a distraction. She needed her hands to move.
“Are you hungry? I’m hungry,” the words rushed from her, eager to see the end of this conversation. She didn’t wait for an answer as she moved toward the door. “Hash cakes and poached eggs. Thirty minutes.”
“You’re hiding behind food again,” Harrow singsonged, sinking back into her chair.
“You’re hiding behind food again,” Tobin mocked in a low growl, just loud enough for Harrow to hear.