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“Why haven’t you told me before?” I ask as I take a seat on the couch.

“Because I knew you’d react this way.”

Of course. I mean… fuck.

Dash sits down next to me, and for a moment, we stare at each other. I can see she’s made up her mind, which only increases the panic I’m already feeling. “A fucking sperm bank, Dash?” I shake my head. “Fuck, this is the last thing I expected from you.”

“You know I’ve always wanted children,” she justifies her actions.

Christ, not like this.

“Yeah, but from a damn sperm bank?” I repeat. “It’s…” I struggle to find the words, “It’s so cold… clinical.”

“I don’t care about the process, Christopher. I just want a baby.”

“You’re only twenty-five,” I try to talk some sense into her. “Wait a couple of years.”

“Why are you fighting this?” she asks.

Because it’s a baby. With some stranger.

And what the fuck about me?

First, our studies kept us busy, then work.

Fuck, I thought I had more time.

Shaking my head, I take a couple of seconds to gather my thoughts. “I just don’t want you doing something you’ll regret. What if you have a baby, and then Mr. Right comes along?” I try to play for time, so I can figure out the best way to address the possibility of a relationship between us.

Dash just shrugs. “If that happens, he’ll be fine with it, seeing as he’ll be Mr. Right. Not that he exists.” She leans back and lets out a deep breath. “Besides, I can live without getting married. I have you and my family. The only thing missing from my life is a child. I really want to be a mom.”

I turn my head to look at her. “You really want this?”

Dash nods as she reaches for my hand. Linking our fingers, she says, “It will mean the world to me to have your support.”

I pull her closer so I can put my arm around her shoulders. Pressing a kiss to her hair, I murmur, “If it’s so important to you, then I’ll be there every step of the way.”

But there’s no goddamn way I’m letting her go to a fucking sperm bank. Over my dead body.

My mind begins to race. Just thinking about Dash having some strange guy’s kid… no, she deserves so much more than that. She deserves everything, the whole package. Marriage. A family. The whole fairytale.

And I want to give it to her.

I have to approach this right. One fuck up and it might ruin everything we have.

Chapter 3

DASH

It took me three weeks to find an assistant and then I had to train him. With Cody handling the PA side of things, I can focus on the contracts.

It also means Christopher and I finally have some spare time, and we’re able to resume our weekly dinners.

Christopher is out on my patio, grilling two steaks while I put the finishing touches on the cobb salad. When I’m done, I pour us each a glass of red wine.

When Christopher brings in the meat, I plate our food. I’ve connected my phone with the TV so we can look at some donor profiles while we eat. Taking a seat on the couch, I click on the first one. “Donor number one.”

Race: Caucasian

Ancestry: German

Blood Group: B+

Height: 6.4"

Hair Color: Blonde

Eye Color: Green

Qualifications: BA/Political Science

Occupation: Police Officer

“Seriously?” Christopher mutters, and then he reads over the information. “No.”

“What’s wrong with this one?”

Christopher’s eyes slant my way. “You’re both blonde with green eyes. Your kid will end up looking like a vampire.”

I blink for a couple of seconds. “Seriously? That’s the freaking point. My baby will look like me.”

“No, Dash,” he mutters before cutting into his steak.

I scroll down, then mumble, “Donor number two.”

Race: Multi

Ancestry: French–Norwegian–Scottish–African(Congolese)

Blood Group: O+

Height: 6.2"

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Brown

Qualifications: Ph.D.

Occupation: Student

Christopher glances over the details then shakes his head.

My eyebrows raise while I wait for him to swallow the bite he took, then he states, “He’s a student, which probably means his balls haven’t dropped.”

Letting out a chuckle, I say, “He has a Ph.D., which means he’s definitely older than twenty-two.”

He shakes his head firmly. “Hell no.”

Rolling my eyes, I scroll to the next one.

Race: Caucasian

Ancestry: Irish-German

Blood Group: A-

Height: 5.11"

Hair Color: Red Wavy

Eye Color: Hazel

Qualifications: BS/Business Administration

Occupation: Server

Christopher lets out a sigh. “Probably has a qualification in bullshit. No.”

Turning off the TV, I look at my unreasonable best friend. “You’re going to have a problem no matter who I show you.” Tilting my head, I ask, “Seeing as no sperm is good enough for my eggs, what do you expect me to do then? I kinda need sperm to make this happen.”

He turns his attention back to his food, which makes me take a bite of my own steak.

Only when we’re done with our meals and I’ve placed the plates and cutlery in the dishwasher does Christopher say, “There’s another option.”

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