“I got a cramp,” she said uselessly. “Got stuck there for a minute.”
Laughter zinged through his eyes. “So I saw. It’s just your night for getting stuck, isn’t it? Got stuck in the ditch. Got stuck in my house. Got stuck on the floor. What’s next?”
I could get stuck in your bed. The thought was so egregious she almost snorted. That would take the cake, wouldn’t it? She’d already been bold enough to ask Liam Wells about his sperm donor status. If things kept up like this, she’d be inviting herself right into his bed. The smile on his face faded into something with a sultry edge, and Liam dropped his hand from her back. It was like he, too, had realized what he’d just said. Lucky got up from the floor and nuzzled against Mina’s leg.
“The cramp better?” Liam asked.
“Yes,” Mina tried to say, but a yawn snuck up and wrestled itself out of her mouth. The wind kicked up outside, the world’s largest white noise machine.
“It’s been a long day. Why don’t we head to bed?”
Mina’s heart stopped, then banged forward again, a cymbal crash inside her chest.
“To sleep,” Liam said, a beat too late. A smile flickered onto his too-handsome face and disappeared. He pushed a hand through his hair. “Now, listen. I don’t have a spare room, but it’s a pullout couch. Here, let me—”
Before she could protest, he’d disappeared into the bedroom. A moment later, he reappeared with a stack of sheets and blankets.
“Oh, thanks.” She reached for the blankets. “The couch is fine. I’ll just—”
Liam batted her hands away. “I’m not going to let you make up the bed while you’re staying as my guest. You kidding me? Shoo.” He shooed her away from the couch along with Lucky, who followed her, tail wagging. Liam pulled out the bed with one smooth movement. The metal frame hardly made a sound.
“I can’t believe that thing didn’t creak,” Mina blurted. “You know, foldout beds usually have all those rusted parts, and old bolts—”
“Old bolts?” Liam arched an eyebrow at her and snapped the sheets above the mattress. “I keep this baby in excellent shape. Or—I guess Cade did, before I came around, and I picked up the baton from him, if you will.” In seconds, he had the bed made up and a thick quilt spread over the sheets. “You’ll be warm in here, and safe.” He stood up tall and looked her in the eye. Mina had the strangest urge to ask him to sit with her until she fell asleep. No way. She needed to lie down before she made another bad decision. “I’ll be in the bedroom, just there. If you need anything, holler.” Liam left her there, in his own clean clothes. “Goodnight, Mina,” he said from the door of the bedroom.
Then he closed it gently behind him, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
6
Mina lay under the quilt on the surprisingly nice mattress that came with the pullout couch, staring at the ceiling of Liam Wells’ little cabin.
He was sleeping a few feet away.
Well—she wasn’t sure if he was sleeping. He was definitely in the next room. But she wasn’t picturing him lying alone in bed. She was picturing him as the father of her child. She’d let the fire burn low, so the room was only lit by the embers. The wind still buffeted the house. They had to be getting feet of snow. Her car might be buried by the time she got out of here. But her thoughts didn’t stick on the car, either. Only on Liam as her baby daddy. Even if she used his sperm at the clinic, she’d still know it was him. There was no mistaking it now.
Mina squeezed her eyes shut tight and counted to a hundred. That had been an old trick from her grandmother, back when she was in high school and too hyped up to sleep. She usually conked out around sixty or seventy. At a hundred and twenty-five, she gave up.
The truth was, she couldn’t very well choose any of the other sperm donors. That would be the obvious solution. Mina knew that. But it was also true that she’d kept coming back to that profile again and again. Something inside her had resonated with what kind of child that person would help her have. It hadn’t been the same with any of the other profiles. Mina pictured, in vivid detail, what it would be like to select another donor. She visualized the process of telling Jennifer her selection so they could prepare in advance. She imagined confirming it with Dr. Humbacher. And she imagined the moment of the procedure, when another truly anonymous man would become the father of her baby.
It made her stomach churn.
That was an old trick her grandmother had taught her, too. Picture waking up the next morning after making a decision. How do you feel? Horrible, that was how. Then again, she couldn’t exactly go ahead with Liam’s donation, could she, if she knew it was from him? That wouldn’t be anonymous in the slightest. There could be all kinds of other issues.
Her thoughts went around and around, like a slow-moving carousel of IUI and Liam’s eyes and the way he’d picked her up from the floor. Each one felt like a flashbulb. It kept her awake. Minutes ticked by—Mina wasn’t sure how many—and the fire faded even farther into the hearth. Oh, this was bad. It was good that she was here, because that meant she was still alive. But it
