of emotion in her throat, Sage admitted, “On the one hand, picking out a potential daddy for my baby via a set of statistics and characteristics seems easy enough.”
Squinting at her, he settled his hat on his head. “Kind of like reading a menu of options.”
“Right.” If only it were that simple, she thought wistfully. Because her mom had been right. Having a baby was an emotional—not a scientific—proposition.
“But?” He kept the pace slow and steady as they threaded their way along a path that took them down a steep ravine, across a wildflower-strewn canyon and up the other side.
“It’s a lot more complicated than I thought it would be.” Mostly, because the only person she could see fathering her baby was the ruggedly handsome rancher-businessman beside her.
She drew a deep, bolstering breath. “The idea of a complete stranger fathering my child is becoming increasingly unappealing.” When they reached their favorite picnic spot, she swung herself out of the saddle, watching as Nick tied their horses to a tree.
Together, they moved into the warm early September sunshine. Spread a blanket out on the ground. “What if the donor profiles aren’t exactly accurate?”
Nick set down the rucksack containing their meal. “I thought the clinic had everyone go through extensive background checks.”
Sage settled cross-legged on the blanket. watching as he did the same. “They do.”
He opened up the bag, brought out the containers from her café-bistro. Two individual thermoses of chicken tortilla soup. Luscious squares of jalapeño-cheese cornbread. And for dessert, triple-berry tarts that she’d gotten up at the crack of dawn to make especially for him.
“Then...?”
Sage shrugged. Aware that Nick was carefully weighing his options—the way he always did when the talk turned to anything personal—Sage forced herself to abandon the hopelessly idyllic notions that had dictated her actions for years, and speak what was on her mind, rather than what was in her heart.
“The more I think about it, the more I have to wonder. Do I really want some stranger’s DNA swimming around inside me?”
Nick grinned, as if pleased to hear she was a one-man woman, at least in this respect.
He looked at her from beneath the brim of his hat. “Which is why you’re asking me?” he countered in the rough, sexy tone she’d fallen in love with the first second she had heard it. “Because you know me?”
Sage locked eyes with him, not sure whether he was teasing her or not. One thing she knew for sure: there hadn’t been a time since they’d first met that she hadn’t wanted him.
And that, too, was unusual. Prior to meeting Nick, she hadn’t considered herself a particularly sexual person.
He’d changed all that. Fast. Thanks to the times they’d spent in bed, she now knew how much she loved the physical side of affection.
Even without the heretofore requisite falling in love.
“Or because,” he continued flirtatiously as he unscrewed the lid on his thermos, “you have a hankering for my DNA?”
Aware the only appetite she had now was not for food, she quipped, “How about both?”
He paused, spoon halfway to his lips, undecipherable emotion in his eyes. “You’re serious.”
More than she wanted to admit. She’d been trying to work up the nerve to approach him since the first time they’d hit the sheets. And it was no wonder she felt he was the perfect man for the job. It wasn’t just his mesmerizing sky blue eyes, thick, dark hair or masculine good looks. Or the way he made her feel in bed, all woman to his man. At six foot four inches tall, with broad shoulders and a fit, muscular body, he was the quintessential Texas cowboy. A man who was as much at ease running his family’s business as he was this ranch. He radiated not just boundless energy and good health, but intelligence and kindness, practicality and innovation, compassion and heart...
But she couldn’t tell him any of that. Not without sounding like she’d really gone round the bend. “Well...” With a wistful sigh, she flashed him a teasing look. “You are everything I’d ever want in a baby daddy.”
His sexy grin encouraged her to go on.
“Big. Strong. Handsome.”
He tilted his head, edges of his lips curving seductively. “And here I thought you liked me for my brain.”
“I do.” She batted her lashes flirtatiously. “Your sense of humor, too.”
He grinned. “We do know how to make each other laugh.”
Which was the way they both liked it. Nice. Easy. Uncomplicated. This could be, too. If only she could make him see so...
She covered his big hand with her own. Gave it a squeeze. “And since we’re already friends, with benefits, conceiving wouldn’t require us to do anything we’re not already doing. Except,” she added, unable to prevent a self-conscious flush, “forgetting to use protection.”
Clearing his throat, he looked her in the eye. “Nice as that sounds...”
Her heart took on a rapid, uneven beat.
Fearing rejection, she persuaded swiftly, “You want kids, too.” She removed her hand from his, sat back. “You’ve said so, at least half a dozen times.”
He nodded, his beautiful mouth set in a sober line. “When the time is right. Yeah, Sage, I do.”
Restless, she leaped to her feet. Hands knotted at her sides, she began to pace. “What if it’s never right?” She whirled back to face him then watched as he rose, too. “What if, like me—” her tone grew as strangled as the hopes inside her “—you don’t find someone and fall madly in love? What if we wait too long and then something happens and we find we’re no longer as fertile as we once were and we suddenly can’t have children? I don’t want to live with that kind of regret, Nick. Especially since I’ve already wasted so much time.”
“Chasing after Timothy Wellington.”
“Terrence Whittier,” she corrected, aware that was the one thing he could never get right, her ex’s name. “And you’re right, I don’t want to do that again. Live so far in the future that I don’t appreciate the here and now. I don’t want that for you, either, Nick.” She trod closer, hands raised beseechingly. “And since...”
She stopped, aware in her eagerness to convince him, she may have spoken a bit too bluntly.
“I’ve already had two broken engagements?”
Knowing she had no room to talk, given her own relationship failure, she wrapped her hand around his bicep. Felt it swell beneath her touch.
“My point is,” she continued, her fingers curving intimately around the hard-packed muscle, through the soft chambray of his shirt, “you’ve been no more successful at finding the perfect match than I have.” She stepped back, jerked in a breath, gave it one last shot. “So why not accept that the odds are against us? And simply make it happen, on our own terms.”
* * *
SAGE HAD A POINT, Nick knew.
Waiting might bring them everything they wanted. The kind of fantastic, enduring love he knew Sage still dreamed about—even if she wouldn’t admit it. And it might bring them nothing. Hadn’t he put off pursuing his long-held dreams for too long? An orphan since age ten, he knew better than anyone how short life could be. Still, there were problems with her proposition. The least of which were his growing feelings for her. Compared with the way she still felt—might always feel—about him. As a friend. A bed buddy. Nothing more.
And although their casual arrangement was fine for now—more than fine actually, since he had so much else going on, work-wise—he wasn’t sure that