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I still had the medication in my hand when I walked out to the kitchen. I wasn’t thinking at all.
“What the hell is this?” I barked as I walked straight up to her.
Quinn was drying her hands on a dish towel and turned to face me. Her jaw went a little slack. “None of your business!” She tossed the dish towel on the counter and held her hand out. “Give me that.”
“Are you okay? And why are you taking fertility medication?”
She looked distinctly uncomfortable. I handed the medication over, waiting with tension drawn tight inside.
“I’m trying to get pregnant,” she finally said. “I want to have a baby. This whole process started before”—she flapped her hand in the air—“this thing with you happened.”
“And you weren’t going to tell me? Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Because. My luck in dating isn’t good. You know that. I’m not getting any younger. I knew if I wanted to have a baby, I should look into the process sooner rather than later. I didn’t tell anyone about it except my doctor. Because it’s private, and I don’t know if it’ll work. I preferred to keep it to myself.” Her tone was pointed and her eyes narrowed as we had a stare down.
“Well, even if we weren’t having this thing, you could’ve asked me.”
“Asked you what?” Her voice rose sharply.
“If you’re going to have a baby, you might as well have a baby with someone you know rather than some random stranger.”
“You’ve always told me you never wanted kids.”
Okay, that was true, but I didn’t even want to go there with that right now. I clenched and stretched my jaw open as I spun away, stuffing my hands in my pockets. I paced from the kitchen into the living room and back again. “I just feel like you’re hiding something pretty important from me. Was this what that appointment was about in Juneau?”
She swallowed and nodded. “I didn’t feel like telling you about it. I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings. Do you suddenly want kids?”
We stared at each other. Removing my hands from my pockets, I dragged a palm across my cheek in a reflexive, nervous gesture. I distantly noted I was due for a shave.
“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug.
Quinn set the medication bottle on the counter. “I don’t want to argue about this, Kenan.”
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. When I opened them, I felt a little calmer. “I don’t either. I guess it just freaked me out. You’re my best friend.”
“You’re my best friend too. Can we just put this on ice for now?”
I nodded. “Can I stay tonight?”
She turned back, her eyes widening in surprise. “The night?”
“Yes.”
We studied each other for a long moment. I held my breath until she nodded. “Of course.”
This wasn’t the first time we slept together. We’d spent two nights together on the ferry and another in the hotel. Yet those were all outside of Fireweed Harbor. Somehow, spending the night in her bedroom and in her house felt different. It felt like we took things to another level because this was part of our regular lives. This was where we lived; it was our world.
The following morning, I ignored the doubts competing for my attention. I didn’t want to think about Quinn doing IVF treatment and potentially getting inseminated with some random stranger’s genetic material. I just couldn’t even go there.
I kissed her when we woke up together. One kiss led to another. I tugged her into the shower with me and made love to her against the tiled wall. I told myself it was just sex, but my heart knew the truth. When we parted ways, we pretended our argument didn’t linger between us.
ChapterTwenty-Eight
QUINN
Later that afternoon, I left my office. I told Rhys I was meeting at our family’s offices because my father had questions about a contract. My father was mostly retired and didn’t have questions about anything. These days, he did, as he described it, the fun stuff—real estate transactions, weird fishing rights issues, and more. I just needed to get out of my office.
My feet moved in the direction of Spill the Beans Café. Maybe an afternoon dose of caffeine would clear my thoughts. I still couldn’t get over the look of hurt on Kenan’s face when he realized I hadn’t told him something. I felt guilty even though I knew I had every right not to tell him everything. I hadn’t discussed my choice to look into IVF with anyone because I didn’t know how it would go.
