The next morningdawned gray and humid.
It was clear from the moment Yasmin woke to gaze out her bedroom window that the sun would eventually win the battle over the clouds, but until then, the sky was ugly and the air almost too thick to breathe. The day matched her mood precisely as she swung into Dixie’s Diner at half past nine, a full thirty minutes before her meeting with the sperm donor. She intended to be fully caffeinated and ready to do battle before TheArkIsAMyth walked through that door.
The ark is a myth…
What kind of man had an e-mail handle like that? Was he an archeology enthusiast researching artifacts from the Indiana Jones movies? Part of a group determined to disprove the Old Testament? Or just your garden variety cranky atheist?
She didn’t know, but she had a bad feeling about this meeting. The man had been nice enough during their e-mail exchanges—probably more understanding than the average Joe whose sperm had been accidentally sold—but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d already made up his mind to say no, and this meeting was just a formality.
“All the more reason to be coffee-ed up and ready for action,” she murmured to herself over the rim of her second mug of Dixie’s synapse-enhancing brew.
By the time she’d finished her third, she was firing on all cylinders, only seconds away from laying eyes on the man who would provide the other half of her baby making equation, and ready to plead her case. Unfortunately, she also had to pee. Bad. Like, really bad.
Biting her lip, she waved at Viv, her waitress, across the room. The kind-eyed woman dropped a check at another table and hustled over even faster than usual. “What’s up, hon?” she asked. “Is he a no-show?”
“No, I think he’s going to show,” Yasmin said, casting a glance at the sidewalk outside, but still catching no sign of a tall, dark, double-PhD-holding man in his early thirties. “But I have to hit the ladies. If he comes in, can you let him know I’ll be right back?”
“Will do,” Viv said. “And this table is yours for as long as you need it. I already made sure everyone knows the corner is reserved for the morning.”
“Thank you so much,” Yasmin said, sliding out of the booth.
“No worries.” Viv reached out, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. “I’m rooting for you, babe. I think it’s great that you’re going for this, making the kind of life and family you want, no matter what anyone else has to say about it.”
Yasmin’s smile puckered in the middle. “Yeah, well, assuming everything goes as planned, I may have to bring some of my mom’s friends in here for a chat. Apparently, a couple members of her book club think I’m crazy.”
Viv laughed. “Well, you know what I always say: You aren’t living life to the fullest if someone doesn’t think you’re crazy.”
“I would laugh,” Yasmin said, hedging toward the restrooms. “But I have to pee too bad.”
Viv laughed harder. “Go, girl. I got this. And I’ll get you a refill on your coffee.”
“Bless you,” Yasmin said, bolting toward the back of the diner.
She was in the ladies’ for maybe three minutes—five, tops—but when she emerged from the bathroom, shaking her hands lightly at her sides because the dispenser was out of paper towels, her wait had ended. There he was, sitting at the corner table with his hands folded and a pensive expression on his face, Mr. Super Smarty with his super squirmy sperm that the doctor had assured her made her chances of getting pregnant the first time around very good.
And he was every bit as handsome and tall and intelligent-looking as she’d been promised.
He was also familiar. Very familiar.
Cursing beneath her breath, Yasmin ducked back into the bathroom hallway, out of sight, her heart pounding as her mind raced, making the connections. It made sense now. His e-mail was TheArkIsAMyth because his name was Noah. Noah O’Sullivan, Bruce’s sexy cousin who was apparently every bit as smart and accomplished as the other O’Sullivan in town.
Her knight in faded blue jeans with the dancing dark brown eyes and the butt that wouldn’t quit, who she had been looking forward to decompressing with tonight, was the reason for her stressful morning.
And you’re the reason for his crazy morning.
Crazy, Yasmin, that’s the word he used.
There’s no way he’s going to say yes and your date night just went down in a blaze of ugly, black, sperm-sample-scented smoke.
She cursed again, gazing down at the simple brown tee shirt and khaki linen pants she’d chosen for this meeting. The voice of doom was probably right, and her outfit certainly wasn’t going to help her case any.
She was dressed to deliver meals on wheels to the elderly, not seduce a man into seeing her side of an argument. If she’d knownNoahwas the man she was meeting, she would have put on her flirty green sundress and peacock feather earrings. She hadn’t missed the way he’d looked at her yesterday. The man was interested, and she wasn’t above using that interest to get what she needed from him.
Might not be as hard as you think, girl.
Play your cards right and you can probably get what you need from Mr. O’Sullivan the old fashioned way. If you know what I’m saying…
The thought made her cheeks go hot.