With a sigh, I curl up into my cushions, grabbing my phone. Part of me wants to hold on to my pride, my righteous indignation. The man disappointed me, after all. But he’s my best friend and the other part of me wants to reach out to him. To ask him what’s going on in his head. To talk about his whole crazy suggestion that we conceive a baby the natural way.
When I unlock the screen, I’m met with a selfie of me and him at the bar a few months back. I’m making a silly face, and he’s scowling like usual. Despite that, I see a faint twinkle in his eye. He doesn’t hate taking pictures as much as he wants everyone to think. I see past the mask he wears for the world.
Eventually, I get up from the couch, headed for the kitchen to clean up. Then I’m off the the bathroom for my night routine.
Makeup remover. Cleanser. Moisturizer. Brush and floss.
But as I'm pacing down the hallway, I glance at my calendar. I nab the thing right off the wall. Today's date is circled in florescent pink.
Shit—I'm ovulating.
My heart clenches. One more precious egg that will go down the drain. If I don't act. Tonight.
I press my eyes shut and muster my inner strength. Suddenly, I'm so damn tired of delaying the things I want.
21
Walker
My eyes snap open in the dark and I bolt upright in bed. My instincts hone in, trying to make sense of the loud noise that just roused me from my sleep.
But I'm tired and I'd rather not have to deal with any middle-of-the-night crises so I drop my head back on my pillow. I try convincing myself that it was just a fleeting dream that somehow crossed over into consciousness. But then I hear the loud banging again.
Not a dream.
Someone is at my front door, in the middle of the damn night. That can't be good.
Hopefully, it's just one of my farm hands here to tell me a rogue cow escaped again.
Ambling out of bed, I flick on the hallway light and make my way through the living room. When I open my cabin door, I’m greeted by something so much better. Penny is on my front porch, a nervous light twinkling in her pretty eyes.
My brain is spinning at a slow, sleep-drunk pace so it takes me a second to process what's going on. But damn, the woman looks unbelievable right now. Lipstick. Heels. A tiny fucking dress. I probably look like a dimwit as I stand here drowsily drinking her in.
But my friend seems to be running low on patience tonight. Without waiting for an invitation, she pushes past me and storms inside. I nudge the door closed, turning toward her. I would be worried about her showing up here unannounced at this time of night, but she's all dolled up and it doesn’t look like an accident that she appeared on my doorstep.
Now, she’s pacing in my small living room, mumbling something I can’t make out.
"Penn? You okay?"
She stops and looks me dead in the eyes. “What if you can’t get it up?”
I squint at her, as if that will somehow help me hear her more clearly. What in the hell is she talking about? I scrape both palms down my face, wiping sleep from my eyes, still trying to wade through my confusion. “What?”
She tries again, slower this time. “What if we try to…to have…sex, and then, you can’t—y’know—get it up for me?”
Sex. She’s talking about sex. Penny Merlini is at my place. In the middle of the night. Holding a hypothetical conversation about having my dick inside her pussy. Like this is just a normal day for us.
Nah—this has got to be another one of my dirty dreams. I rub my eyes again.
But she's still standing in front of me, with her hands planted on the feminine curves of her hips, waiting for some kind of response out of me.
“Why wouldn’t I be able to get it up?” I ask, even more perplexed as this conversation progresses.
Penny flings her arms outward, frustrated by my lethargy. Or my stupidity. It’s one of those. I'm not sure. “Well, what if I’m not your type? What if you don’t get turned on by me? Men can’t have sex if they aren’t turned on.”
Is this woman blind?
I rake my gaze down her body, taking in her sexy outfit, her sensual curves.
My mouth waters. My cock twitches, ready to take on the challenge. “Yeah…I don’t think getting it up will be a problem.”
Her cheeks pink up and she shifts her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
But since we’re already on this topic… “Would you be able to, y’know…” I cough, trying to clear my throat, and then I motion toward the sexy place where her thighs meet. “...get wet?”
A hundred times, I've fantasized about Penny showing up here in the middle of the night. None of those fantasies ever started as awkward as this. Holy hell.
She stares at my chest, reminding me that I’m naked from the waist up, wearing only the boxers I sleep in. One of her slim shoulders lifts in a shrug as her cheeks redden. “I…I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”
“Do you need, like, lube or…?” I'm trying to be a gentleman here.
She gives me an incredulous look.
I shrug unapologetically. In all fairness, she’s the one who barged in and started this uncomfortable discussion.
Penny’s face flushes to a deeper red. “No, I’m good.”
I'm not completely sure I believe her. "No offence but you're a bit high-maintenance..." And I'm a simple farmer. Do I have what it takes to 'get her there'?
She clears her throat and looks away. "Definitely wouldn't need lube for you, Walker?"
What the hell does that mean? Did my friend just admit to being attracted to me? I'm not sure but I do know my cock likes the insinuation. Very much.
My ego quirks up. I give Penny a lopsided smile.
She fidgets some more. "I just mean—most women would agree that...that you're an attractive guy."
“Would they, now?” I feel my smirk growing deeper.
She covers her face. "You're making this super awkward."
The first time I suggested that we handle this situation
