words really matched her beliefs. ‘So, you don’t even expect me to be Uncle Hamish?’
She laughed—a spurt of disbelieving sound. ‘Do you even know how to be an uncle? I’m not sure your nephews know you very well, do they?’
He tried to feel insulted but failed because she was right. No matter how much he might want to argue with her on that point, the fact was he didn’t see his five nephews very often at all. They were good kids and he sent them birthday gifts and happily enjoyed their company at Christmas, but that was enough. He was the fun uncle and if he didn’t see much of them then he couldn’t let them down like he’d let down Aaron.
He couldn’t risk having his own child and repeating past mistakes.
He tried to head off this crazy request by going straight to the heart of the matter. ‘Georgie, something like this could ruin our friendship.’
Her straight-shooting gaze hooked him, filled with honesty. ‘It won’t. Another reason I’m asking you is because I know you don’t want a child.’
He had a moment of feeling like he was fighting quicksand. ‘I don’t understand how me not wanting a child makes you ask me.’
‘You’ll leave me in peace to raise him or her alone and do things my way. This is my baby, my new-start family.’
He stared at her as if she were a stranger. Georgie had always wanted the happy-ever-after and the white picket fence so very, very much that he couldn’t believe she was abandoning it completely. ‘Are you really sure you want to do this all on your own? You always said—’
‘That’s the past.’ Her plump lips compressed as her jaw tightened. ‘I want my own family again, to feel part of something. Connected.’
The quiver in her voice socked him straight in the heart. Supporting Georgie through the funeral of her parents had been one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. He had relatives coming out of his ears but Georgie didn’t.
Her shoulders rose and fell. ‘Hey, I know it’s not perfect, but what in life is? The baby and I will be a team of two, and you know what? It’s okay because the flip side is that I get to make all the decisions. I have control and so there’s no risk of me and the baby being abandoned when a man decides yet again that I’m not enough for him.’
He saw the facts on her face and in the depths of her eyes matching up with her words. She was deadly serious. He knew she’d always liked to try and control things in her life and not take too many risks, but having a baby? Hell. He ran his hands through his hair. Having a baby was the biggest out-of-control step in life a person could take.
A long-ago image of Aaron on his bike and he himself screaming ‘Stop!’ rose in his head like a spectre—a haunting ghost who refused to be completely silenced. No matter how many years he’d worked as a doctor, saving lives, travelling to developing countries to help improve the lives of others, the pain of losing a brother had become as much a part of him as his own gristle and bone.
He tried to breathe but it was like trying to move his chest against circular bands of steel. He had to tell her he couldn’t do this and he would, the moment he could get the words out.
‘Haim, I realise I’ve shocked you and my request is totally out of the blue for you.’ She pushed the paperwork towards him and leaned in. ‘But for me it’s a long-held dream. A child will make my life more worthwhile and give me family again. I want a baby so badly that my arms and heart ache constantly.’
He was intimate with heartache and the throb of a faded despair that never fully went away. A baby would make him revisit a maelstrom of emotions and he refused to go there. ‘I’m sorry, Georgie … I don’t think I can help you.’
Her shoulders slumped for a moment and then her chocolate-brown eyes hooked his gaze, filled with everything they’d ever shared. ‘I’ve never asked you for anything, Hamish, and I never will again, but right now I’m asking you, my closest friend in the whole world, not to make a hasty decision, not to say yes or no. All I’m asking is that you think about it. Sleep on it and tell me tomorrow or in three days.’
‘It’s not going—’
‘It might. Time to think is always good. Please, Hamish. Take the papers, read them, write down all your questions and call me.’ She slid her hand over his, her expression filled with pleading. ‘We’ve always talked and shared everything.’
Not quite everything. He swallowed against a constricted throat. God, he hadn’t thought about Aaron in such a long time and today he was present in every sentence.
Tell her you can’t be a sperm donor. Tell her it’s an unequivocal no.
But her longing and despair swirled all around him, pulling at him in ways that made him hesitate.
‘Hamish?’
Her voice sounded small and uncertain, reminding him of the weeks after her parents had died, and he found himself saying, ‘I can’t promise you anything, George, except I’ll read the papers.’
‘Thank you.’ She rose to her feet and hugged him—her arms wrapping around him more tightly than usual.
Her breasts pressed against his chest and her fresh scent of summer flowers swirled around him, and for a split second his off-kilter world steadied. Then she stepped back and life went back to whatever could be called normal.
Hamish put a pouting Stephanie into a taxi and after a distracted goodbye kiss he headed back inside and poured himself a large glass of merlot. As he sat in his study and opened the legal document that Georgie had left him, he hoped he’d find the clause that would provide the perfect excuse for him to say an absolute and indisputable no to her request that he give her a baby.
God, he’d wanted to say no, but every time he’d tried, it had been like being in a fight and having two guys grab hold of his arms to prevent him from taking a swing. He’d opened his mouth but the look on her face when she’d talked about not having a family had stopped him dead. It shouldn’t have because this was as much about him as it was about her, and he knew exactly why he should say no.
He’d failed to keep Aaron safe, failed miserably at being a big brother, and wasn’t that the training ground for fatherhood? He couldn’t be responsible for a child.
So tell her that.
But that would involve telling her about his little brother, about the day that was etched into his mind like a tattoo. He wasn’t prepared to do that. He’d found a way to live with his guilt and resurrecting the past had no value at all. Besides, Georgie wasn’t asking him to be a hands-on father. She’d been very clear on that. He’d be a donor known only to her and with no connection to the baby other than his donated DNA.
Could he do that? He stared out the window. He knew men who prided themselves on being sperm donors and didn’t seem to give a moment’s thought to the fact that they were creating a child—a human being who one day might knock on their door, wanting to connect. Hell, he didn’t want that to happen. He wasn’t father material and he wasn’t letting another child down. He knew the catastrophic consequences of that.
He took a slug of wine, wishing Georgie had never asked him such a huge favour and yet he knew and understood exactly why she had.
What had started out all those years ago as him encouraging ‘the quiet girl’ at college to get involved had unexpectedly turned into a special friendship that had got them both through the tough life of being a med student, the fraught life of an intern and had survived both of them taking slightly different paths in medicine. Not to mention weathering their relationships with other people. Their bond was stronger than superglue and he’d stopped counting how often she’d randomly called him just at a time when he’d needed some support.
Georgie was the antithesis of him. He’d act first, think second. She’d weigh up the pros and cons, which was a great strategy for a doctor but