Page 47 of Silver Brewer

“What happened?”

“I didn’t make the cut. It isn’t that they aren’t willing to give me a baby as a single mom, but if a married couple comes forward or ones with more financial stability, they take precedence.”

He’s thoughtful a moment, his brows pinching. “Why’s that?”

I shrug again. “Money talks. Everyone has their price.” I choke on the words. Giant stops, and I take another step or two forward before I spin to face him.

“Is this the reason you wanted the land?”

My shoulders fall, and I look away. “I needed the commission. Adoptions costs money. If I had a little more, I’d look financially secure. The sale of your land would have garnered a sizable kickback for me, as well as secured a position as partner within my uncle’s company. It’s all about providing a stable home.” I shake my head. “It doesn’t really matter anymore,” I say, masking the truth. I’m heartbroken once again, but I tell myself it isn’t my time yet. I smile weakly, looking up at him. “There’ll be another baby, another day.”

I turn to continue walking, but Giant stops me with a hand on my upper arm. “Wait a second. This is important. You should have told me.” Irritation roughens his voice, and he looks genuinely pissed.

Here comes the breakup.

“Why, Giant?” I stare at him. Are you sorry you came to Chicago now? Do you want to take back all the amazing sex we had? Do you want to renege the sensation we both felt as we made love last night? “It isn’t a great conversation starter.” I’m teasing, sort of, but the truth is, it isn’t something I easily share. This adoption business—as my family carelessly calls it—is really important to me.

You can’t do it as a single woman.

You shouldn’t do it as woman without more means.

Who would want to be a single mom?

I would. Willingly. And I’m tired of defending myself. It’s no one’s business but mine. That’s the point. A baby. For me.

“Letty, you should have told me about the money.” His voice remains rugged.

“And what could you do about it? Sell me your land?” I pause, exhaling in frustration. “I don’t want it.” It’s not about the land, per se, but the money, and I don’t want either from him.

With a puzzled expression on his face, he states, “We could figure something else out.”

I laugh without humor. “No.” For some reason, I see the wheels turning in Giant’s eyes, which makes me both uncomfortable and ridiculously hopeful, but I don’t want to rely on someone else. That’s the point of this adoption. A baby. For me. Someone who needs me. For once, someone who needs me.

“Why not?” he snaps, his voice returning to mountain-man Giant.

“Because I’ll figure it out on my own.” I always do.

He steps forward and cups my shoulders. “But you don’t have to.” He stares down at me, but I don’t know what he’s saying. It would be too much to hope he’s saying all kinds of things I shouldn’t assume.

“You’re sweet.” I give him a genuine smile, even if it’s only half my lips. He is sweet, and I bet Giant Harrington is the type of man to take care of things, to fulfill obligations, and stick where he doesn’t want to be stuck because he thinks he’s doing the right thing.

“I’m serious.” His voice deepens, irritation remaining.

“So am I.”

He nods, but disagreement fills his eyes. He doesn’t let me go. His eyes grow serious and sharp, peering down at me while his hands slip to my shoulder blades. “I’m here for you. You can talk to me. I’ll do whatever you need, but I need the truth.”

He’s right. There have been a few too many secrets between us, but could I have laid all this on him after only three nights of amazing sex? I wouldn’t have thought so, but I should know better. Everything with Giant has been different.

My lips purse as I fight a smile, risking a little more of myself. “The truth is, I like you, and I didn’t want to scare you away. A baby screams commitment, and that’s not what I’m after. But thank you. If you’re willing to be my friend and stick around for some moral support, I’d love to have you be here… well, not here here, of course, because you live in Georgia…but here for me.” The reality hits me. He doesn’t live nearby, and he won’t be close enough to help me, but I don’t want to lose him. There’s so much more I’ve left unsaid. So much I couldn’t dare to ask of him.

“Okay,” he says softly, his voice the lowest I’ve ever heard. He tugs me to him, holding the back of my head as I take a deep breath with my cheek against his chest. He kisses the top of my head before sliding me to his side, keeping his arm around me, and walking us forward. I’d like to think the steps are metaphorical. We’ll go forward together—as friends—long-distance friends, with benefits, lots of benefits, but a niggling feeling tells me I might lose him for good once he leaves this time.

19

Just friends. My ass.

[Giant]