Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Jason
The audacity.
I was still fuming as I pulled out of the parking space just outside Rosie and Addy’s apartment in downtown Riverbrook. How in the hell did Franky St. James think asking a guy to donate his sperm was a good idea?
First, friends didn’t ask friends for baby batter.
Second, couldn’t she have found a boyfriend to do this important task?
Third, failing that, surely there were clinics for this sort of thing.
I had assumed that as a scientist, she’d be all over the test tube, baby-in-a-lab option.
A total egghead, this woman usually had her nose buried in a book or a slug lair (or whatever you called a crib for slimy creatures), occasionally looking up to pronounce judgment on vapid, no-brained, muscle-bound lugs who could barely string a sentence together.
So sometimes I did have trouble getting words out around her because the rare times we intersected, she insisted on goading me.
But I had no problem using my words when it came to protecting Sean.
My brother was a nice guy—too nice—and despite being two years older than me, I had always had to look out for him. Duty of a jock with the family nerd. Thankfully he’d said no to her absurd request, but Franky was strong-willed. She was probably thinking up ways to make him come around.
That would not be happening. A kid with no dad in the picture? Not a chance.
I was still muttering to myself about this crazy situation when I spotted the woman herself.
She was walking along the street, in that way people had when they had places to be and people to see, her topknot bouncing, her long stride purposeful and angry.
As I drew closer, she stopped, fisted her hips, and looked up to the sky.
I doubted she was asking God for guidance.
Most scientists didn’t believe in a higher power, so maybe she was trying to calculate meaning in the stars.
One thing was obvious: she was hurting. She really wanted this, and my brother had let her down.
Don’t go feeling sorry for her. Sean had done the right thing.
Rolling the car to a stop, I lowered the window. “You okay?”
Her mouth curled in a sneer, like I was some sleazy curb crawler looking to pick up a pretty girl.
“Why would I not be okay?”
“Because you’re standing on the sidewalk, five blocks from your sister’s house, after you walked out in a huff. You look annoyed.”
“That’s your learned conclusion?”
Learned. She never resisted an opportunity to make jabs about my intelligence.
“Just something my dumb jock brain picked up on. You need a ride somewhere?”
“No. My car’s back at Rosie’s.”
So she was walking off her annoyance. I used a rink for that myself, but civilians had to make do with other methods.
“I’ll ask again. You okay?”
“I—” She inhaled a short breath. “I will be. This is just a minor setback.”
So not going to give up, which meant Sean was still in the line of fire. An outside observer might say this was none of my business, but my brother’s welfare mattered to me. Fathering a child that you would never see was not good for anyone in this situation. Ask me how I know.
“What’s your plan then?”
“Like it’s any of your business.” She continued walking.
She was right, except for the Sean aspect. That made it my business.
I drove about a block until I spied a parking spot. By the time she drew even, I was rocking a casual lean against my car.
She stopped before me. “I assume you’re being protective of Sean.”
Okay, she got it. That was exactly why I was taking time out of my busy evening to speak to her.
“I don’t want to see him taken for a ride.”
“And you think asking him for a no-strings cupful of sperm is taking advantage?”
No strings. Sure. “What if he agrees, then changes his mind about wanting to see his kid?”
She seemed to be turning that over in her mind.
One thing I’d say about Franky St. James: watching her think was fascinating.
She lived inside her head, working shit out about science and biology and slugs and snails.
Not that I cared for the subject matter, but the thought process she applied to her problems made her interesting while she did it.
“I’m happy to amend the contract that way, if that’s what he wants.
” She moved closer to me, her face animated.
Kind of … pretty. “I had assumed he would be uninterested in any future connection, but it might be good for the child to have a father figure. However, it could be complicated by—” Breaking off, she shook her head.
“Complicated by what?”
“If there was another man in my life after the child was born. But that’s unlikely. A slim probability, but even so, we could factor it into our agreement.” She jerked out of her reverie. “Did Sean say that was an issue? Did I go too hard on the no-obligation aspect?”
Shit. Here I was giving her hope. “No, he didn’t say that. I barely spoke with him about it. He’s not interested.”
She fisted her hips. “Then why are you even here? I thought you were part of a forward advance to begin negotiations.”
“I’m here to warn you off from trying again with him. He’s pretty persuadable and once he gets over the initial shock, he might come around.”
She folded her arms over the Lakeshore University logo on her sweatshirt. It pushed up her breasts, though I had to imagine what they might look like under all that thicker fabric. For a brief moment, I was taken back to my teen years when this woman’s chest fascinated me.
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, really. You’ll start blinding him with logic when really you can’t apply facts and figures and scientific method to this. We’re talking about a baby.”
“Is that what we’re talking about?” Said in her droll “you’re an idiot” voice. God, she was the worst.
“You can’t treat this like a science experiment.”
She snorted. “You know nothing about it. Neither do you need to worry about your precious brother. I heard him the first time, and I won’t be bothering him about it again. I’ll just move on to the next candidate.”
“You mean you don’t even care who you get this donation from?”
“Oh, I care greatly. That’s why I’ve created a list of viable candidates with pros and cons.
Scientific, but not an experiment, okay?
This is real life, a real baby, and I want to give him or her the best possible start in life.
That starts with researching likely donors and doing my due diligence. ”
A list? And Sean was a top contender? Not saying my brother wasn’t a good option, but surely Franky could call on any number of academic types. People who viewed the business of having a baby as an intellectual exercise rather than an instinctive one.
Now who’s tarring a whole group with the same brush?
“How many other people have you asked?”
“Sean was the first, but now I realize I need a script. Something to keep me on track so I don’t get flustered.”
Never mind that, though her blunt honesty was refreshing. “Who else is on this list?”
Her mouth ticked up at the corner. Not so humorless after all.
“Wondering if there are any … hockey players on it?”
I was now.
Franky might be a brainiac, but she also had connections in the hockey world. She knew all the players and their families and could likely produce a list of contenders at the drop of a hat.
If she could get over the fact they were all idiots.
“Are there?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
I shrugged, though my shoulder felt stiff. “Don’t care, really.”
“Well, there are. But if I go that route, I’ll need to snag one before he gets scooped up.
Lars would have been ideal, but now he’s with Adeline …
” She trailed off, musing on missed opportunities.
“There are issues with using a pro-athlete’s sperm, though.
The older ones have often been hit with paternity suits and tend to be more cautious about this kind of thing.
The younger ones—well, I have concerns about choosing someone too young.
The ick factor as well as their underdeveloped brains.
That would be taking advantage. So the candidates need to be thirty plus, with a healthy history, and of course, willing. ”
She looked up, appearing somewhat surprised that I was still here.
She had gone off into her own world as she outlined her criteria.
I suspected her monologue had less to do with providing me with the details and more to do with her need to work it all out in her head.
“I’d say I have eight candidates from the hockey world and seven from other areas. Academics and colleagues.”
Fifteen saps who had no idea what was coming.
“You already have this list?”
“Of course.” Pausing a moment, she studied me. “You’re on it.”
And here we are. I wondered why she had even stuck around to talk to me. There was no good reason for her to listen to a word I said, but if she wanted something that only a man could provide …
“Right.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Oh, I believe you. You might think hockey players are brainless spunk machines, but if you’re not going to go with a sperm bank—why aren’t you doing that?”
“The donors lie all the time. I’d rather do my own background checks.”
Of course she would. “So hockey players might be as dumb as pucks, but they are generally healthy specimens, which seems to be more important to you. That means someone like me is going to meet all your criteria. Age, relationship status, health.”
I was curious about how she might try to persuade me.
The idea gave me a thrill, to be honest. Not being her baby daddy but that she would have to ask me.
Beg. Maybe on her knees with those blue-gray eyes pleading, her ruby-red lips in a pout, her pink tongue darting out nervously to wet them …
So desperate to be a mom that she would tap a guy she didn’t even like to give her the goods.
“Not all.”
“Oh yeah? In which category don’t I measure up?”
She moved in closer, like she needed to tell me a secret. Her breath was soft against my neck. The scent of her shampoo filled my nostrils, something floral and sexy.
“The asshole one.”
“Come again?”
“While having a strong liking for the candidate isn’t absolutely necessary, I draw the line at choosing an asshole to be the sperm donor for my child.”
And then she walked away, leaving me fumbling for a response.