Between You and Me

She laughed lightly, and he grinned back at her. Their eyes held for a long beat and she took a slow, deep breath, exhaling it before she said, “Good night, Logan. Thanks again for a great day.”

“Back at you,” he said. “Good night, Tess. Sleep well. Good luck tomorrow.”

With a sweet smile, she climbed out of his truck and into the cold night.

Chapter Eleven

Tess got home from her morning yoga class at noon. She poured some food into Bubbles’s bowl, then showered, all the while absently humming the last song she’d heard in the car. When she emerged from the bathroom in her fluffy wine-colored robe, her long hair wrapped up turban style on top of her head, she sank onto her bed. Yesterday, she’d spent most of the afternoon painting, but she wasn’t in the mood today. She had to check her work email, have some lunch, maybe make a few work calls. She also wanted to text Logan and thank him again for the day before.

They’d gone skiing again, and like the first time, followed an afternoon on the slopes with a long meal and easy conversation. They told each other stories about their siblings, chatted about work, and he talked a bit about his mother’s condition, which apparently was declining. When he confessed that he was worried his mom would start campaigning in town to find him a girlfriend so she could quickly marry him off before she died, Tess had teased him mercilessly, anything to take the sad look out of his eyes. And it had worked.

Since the ten days since their first skiing excursion, he’d started texting her on the days he didn’t come by her house to take out the trash. Only once a day, just a short and sweet Checking on you. Everything okay? which she would answer, and they’d end up texting for a few minutes. Getting to know each other, kind of friends, even though the attraction between them simmered at a low boil whenever they were together. She liked him. She trusted him.

She picked up the phone to text him and noticed that the light was blinking. She checked the message; Dr. Fuller from the fertility clinic had called while she was in the shower. Excitement and nervousness rocketed through her.

Her initial visit to the fertility clinic ten days ago had been interesting. She’d had a brief physical exam and filled out a million forms. She’d had a lengthy interview with the doctor, who’d fielded her many questions and filled in some blanks. Dr. Fuller was a warm, clearly knowledgeable person; Tess felt like she was in good hands. Her gut told her she’d found the right place and the right people to help make her dreams come true.

Since then, she’d pored over donor profiles. The clinic was at the top of their game when it came to both medical and psychosocial profiles, one of the main reasons she’d picked them. Their screening process was extensive, which further inspired her confidence. Hell, the cost didn’t matter to her. The basics of the procedure could be done anywhere. She wanted to ensure quality, across the board, and this clinic had that going on. She was in.

Sitting back on her bed, she tucked her legs beneath her as she returned Dr. Fuller’s call. She was on the line in under two minutes. “Hi, Tess, how are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Tess’s heart rate picked up a notch, a new rush of anticipation whooshing through her. “Why’d you call?”

“I wanted to share your test results with you,” Dr. Fuller said. She sounded calm and at ease, which put Tess more at ease. “Just the basics, which are, you’re in top shape. You’re very healthy, and I think you won’t have any problems conceiving.”

Tess’s heart soared. “Really? That’s wonderful!”

“Now, understand,” Dr. Fuller cautioned, “that doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll get pregnant on your first try. It’s absolutely possible, but you are in your late thirties, so that’s the only risk factor here. Your blood work is great, your hormone levels are right where they need to be . . . I’d bet once we start, you’ll be pregnant within six months. Hopefully less, but the point is, you don’t have anything to show you’ll have a real problem getting pregnant. Okay?”

“That’s great,” Tess said, practically bouncing where she sat. “So how soon can we start?”