Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

"Y ou can do this, Penny. Go in there and ask him." Penny stared into her tense reflection in her car's rear-view mirror. "Friends ask each other for favors all the time."

Hazel eyes she stared at every day in the mirror gazed back with a dubious expression. "It's not a big deal. Go in there and say ‘BJ, I'm trying to get pregnant, and I would like to use your sperm. Please'"

Please was a nice touch. Always go with a please. Particularly if you were going to ask your best friend for his baby-making material. She would add a please onto the teeny tiny favor she requested of him.

"Oh, who am I kidding?" A groan that sounded suspiciously more like a sob escaped her as she banged her forehead against the steering wheel. "This is an epic favor of world proportions."

Her world, to be exact. The world she currently wanted to change and needed her best friend to do so.

Okay, maybe she didn't need him per se, but his little swimmers. And honestly, it was all his idea in the first place. It was a month ago, during one of their lunch meet ups, she'd told BJ about wanting to be a mom. Since she was a disaster in the dating department, she'd decided to go the solo route. After looking into adoption and being told as a single autistic woman she'd have a better shot at being the first person on Mars than getting approved to adopt, she'd researched artificial insemination.

BJ had been supportive of her decision, evening offering his help if she wanted. Sure, he'd been making an offhand comment, but once the idea rooted, she hadn't been able to let it go…

She'd booked an appointment with her OBGYN where they discussed her plan and options. Penny decided to forgo the sperm bank. Yes, she knew they tested the samples, vetted the donors, dotted all their i's and crossed their t's. But a binder full of height, eye color, and family medical history couldn't tell her the things she really wanted to know.

What were they like as a child? Kind, shy, awkward…the class bully?

She knew a lot of a child's personality came from their upbringing, but some kids had mean in their genes. Nature versus nurture, the eternal debate. None of the thick, thorough binders she scrutinized had given her any indication of the male donor's personality. She didn't want help raising her child, but she wanted to know her child came from a kind and loving gene pool. On both sides. That meant she needed to procure the sample from a known source.

Luckily, she knew someone with a healthy family medical history, a strong sense of fairness and kindness, and good genes. Great genes, more like . There was more than one reason the women of Kismet dubbed Jacks their favorite hang-out. Spoiler, it wasn't because of their finely distilled spirits. The Jackson men were the very definition of eye candy.

Yes, the Jacksons had fantastic genes. It put a check in her win column for baby daddy donations. That fact that she didn't know any other men well enough to ask for such a complicated favor was beside the point.

BJ was it. Her perfect donor.

Now she had to work up the nerve to ask him.

"Shit or get off the pot, Penny," she gave herself a hard glare in the mirror, using her father's favorite phrase for her when she'd waffled on decisions as a teen.

With one more determined look, she reached for the door handle, exiting her car, and hurrying into Jacks. The tasting room sat empty. Jacks served as more of a bar than the fancy tasting rooms distilleries in other states, thanks to some nifty Colorado liquor laws allowing distilleries to serve full drinks as long as they used their own liquor. A glance at the clock revealed the time to be slightly after four in the afternoon. The after-work crowd hadn't arrived yet. Good. She'd get some privacy to talk to BJ.

"Hey, Penny."

She turned her head to the bar where Kelley Raheja, the part-time bartender, stood polishing glasses. "Did you know that eighty-sex percent of dish rags contain yeast and mold, seventy-seven percent contain coliform bacteria, and eighteen percent contain staph bacteria. It's recommended to replace them every thirty days."

Oh goody, her brain decided to short circuit and let her mouth run loose with a plethora of facts she knew Kelley neither needed nor wanted.

Kelley smiled. Her dark brown eyes lit with humor. "Thanks for the, um, health lesson, but this is a dry rag. I'm wiping off the glasses. Clean and sanitized from the dishwasher. I promise."

Right. She should have known that. Jacks had an A+ rating from the health department. The Jackson family knew how to keep their business clean. She was just nervous and when she got nervous, she blurted out random facts.

"Need a drink?" Kelley asked.

"No thank you. I'm here to see BJ. Is he around?"

Kelley tilted her head to the side. "In the restaurant going over menus or something. They're all freaking out because the opening is a few weeks away and they still don't have everything set."

"All of them are worried?" Odd. The Jacksons were a fairly cool bunch. Most of them, anyway.

Kelley grinned. "Okay, Ace is freaking out and the rest are taking bets on when he'll have an aneurysm."

Ah, yes, that sounded about right. Though they were twins, BJ was much more laid-back than Ace. The elder twin—by five minutes—took his role as big brother seriously. Some might say too seriously, but never to his face.

"Thank you, Kelley."

With a wave, she headed through the swinging door connecting Jacks to the new restaurant set to open soon. Her body vibrated with nerves, mind reeling with the enormity of what she was about to ask.

BJ sat at one of the tables in the middle of the room, head down, muttering something to the paper in front of him. She marched right up to him, stopping a foot away, mouth opening, words pouring forth before she lost her nerve.

"BJ, I have something I need to talk to you about. You see, the thing is—"

An object flashed against the sunlight pouring in from the large front windows. Catching her attention from the corner of her gaze, she blinked. Glancing over, she spotted…an ice pick? Yup, that's what it appeared to be. An ice pick tacked to the wall. She stopped mid-sentence, everything falling away as she stared at the walls of the restaurant. All manner of junk filled every space, skis, pictures, geodes on shelves.

"Why does it look like a flea market threw up in here?"

BJ glanced up from his papers, a grimace twisting his lips. "Del said tourists like shtick. It's a bunch of stuff related to Kismet and Colorado. Supposed to create a sense of fun or something."

She could see that. When she visited Key West a few years back with her jerk of an ex, she remembered how neat all the tchotchkes were all over the island. It made the trip more fun. Truthfully, it had been the only enjoyable thing. She shook herself out of unpleasant memories. No time for that now. She had a mission.

"What do you need?"

She hesitated, anxiety kicking in. "Oh, um, I-I…I'm sorry I didn't mean to interrupt you."

He looked down at the papers sprawled on the table in front of him. Throwing the pen down, he rubbed his eyes with the heels of both hands. "Please interrupt me. All this paperwork is giving me a headache."

He seemed tense. She could tell by the way he held his shoulders, all tight and stiff. Having been friends for over fifteen years, she knew BJ better than anyone. But she still couldn't predict how he'd respond to her question. Her stomach pitched and rolled, threatening to bring back the ham and cheese on rye she'd eaten for lunch.

"What's up?"

He dropped his hands, smiling up at her, and she lost her nerve. All of it. How in the world had she ever thought she could ask this of him? Tapping her fingers on her leg, she forced a smile. "I was wondering about the information for the grand opening. I need to get it up on the website ASAP."

Pale blue eyes glanced down to her thigh, where her fingers nervously tapped away. His hand reached out, grasping hers. He rubbed his thumb across the back of her knuckles as he always did, soothing her.

"Seriously, Penny, what's up?"

Oh crap. And here it was, the prime example of why she wanted, no, needed, BJ to be the father of her child. Not father father. She wasn't about to suggest starting a relationship with her best friend or anything. Honestly, the thought had crossed her mind a time or two— or a million —over the years. In her defense, what woman wouldn't have fantasies of Bravo Jackson?

Kelley, but that probably had more to do with the fact that she was a lesbian and didn't want any man.

Every straight, bi, and pan woman in kismet drooled over BJ's pale blue eyes. Unlike Ace, who kept his hair short, BJ grew out his long wavy hair. The silky strands caressing his shoulders whenever heh left it down, begging to have fingers run through it. She'd heard a few women at the bar one night call him a lumbersnack—whatever that was—and refer to his beard and penchant for wearing flannel.

And while, yes, her best friend was hot as all get out, she found the best thing about him to be his funny sense of humor and penchant for protecting the underdog. When you rolled it all together, it made one very irresistible package. So yeah, she'd thought about it, but she would never act on it, because BJ was the only person in her life who accepted her as she was. Since the day they met their junior year in AP Chemistry, he'd never made her feel out of place or like a freak. To him, she was just Penny.

Skipping two grades meant she went from middle school straight into her junior year. Not fun to be a fourteen-year-old girl on the cusp of puberty surrounded by stunning sixteen-year-olds. Awkward couldn't even begin to describe how she felt all gangly and nerdy next to girls who were experts at makeup, boys, and fashion. The only thing Penny had been an expert in was academia. Not very popular with the high school crowd.

Her brains hadn't won her any popularity contests, but it made her a target for bullies. As did her autism diagnosis. In her third week of school, a group of popular girls cornered her in a hallway. They threw toilet paper at her while shouting less than flattering things about her chest size, suggesting what she should do with the endless amounts of white tissue they covered her in. Tears poured down her face. She'd crouched, folding in on herself. She hadn't even noticed they'd stopped until she heard a deep male voice yelling, calling them cruel and threatening to report them to the principal if they didn't leave.

Eyes watery, she'd glanced up into the face of her savior to see a sixteen-year-old BJ, a sympathetic smile on his face, hand out to help her up. He told her those girls were jealous because they weren't half as smart as she was. From that day on, he'd been her protector, confidant, and best friend.

That was why she'd never go beyond friendship with BJ. She was too afraid to lose him if things didn't work out. Ha! If things didn't work out? Like they'd ever get started. He might be her friend, but she knew the kind of women he dated; sexy, sophisticated. Not nerds with a World of Warcraft account. They might be friends, but he was so far out of her league she couldn't even see the field.

Didn't matter. That wasn't what she wanted from him, anyway.

"Penny?"

She glanced up—when had he stood—to see him standing in front of her, a concerned expression marring his brow.

"I'm sorry. Did I space out again?" She did that sometimes, okay, all the time.

"Yeah, but you didn't look like you were doing math in your head." He cupped her cheek in his big, warm palm. "You looked sad."

Oh perfect, now he was worried about her. This was not how it was supposed to go. She planned to come in here calm and confident, remind him of his offer, present her case and allow him to think it over. She'd gone and ruined it all with her walk down memory lane.

"I'm fine."

One thick brow arched.

"Really, BJ. I had a demanding client today and I guess I haven't shaken it off yet." Not a total lie. She had dealt with the Blithe sisters today, working on their store website.

"Need me to go kick their ass?"

He'd do it too. Maybe not physically, because BJ never used violence if he could help it, but he'd give a stern warning to anyone who messed with the people he cared about.

"You want to go confront Apple, be my guest."

He dropped his hand and physically shuddered. The Blithe sisters, Olive and Apple, were the exact opposites of their namesakes. Olive was as sweet as a two-dollar sucker while Apple had garnered the town nickname Crab Apple. No one wanted a one-on-one confrontation with Kismet's notorious sourpuss.

"No, thank you. How about a drink instead? I'm sure Kelley would be happy to make something for you."

She didn't tell him Kelley had already offered, and she declined. Some might find it funny that she rarely drank, considering her best friend owned and ran a distillery. She enjoyed the occasional drink now and then, but not today. Right now, she needed to retreat and regroup.

"No thanks. I need to run, but I'll see you later."

She turned away, but he caught her hand, pulling her back and cupping her face in his palms again. BJ was affectionate with everyone. The big guy could have coined the phrase cuddly teddy bear. She never took his touches to mean anything other than what they were—comfort from a friend—no matter how much she sometimes wished they were more. Or how much it made her body burn in ways so not appropriate for a best friend to feel.

"Penny."

Squeezing her eyes shut, she reached down deep for courage, but found she had none. Nope. Not a single ounce. Opening her eyes, she gazed into his worried face and put on the brightest smile she could. Judging by the downward tilt of his lips, it wasn't all that bright.

She grasped his wrist with her hand, giving it a small squeeze. "I'm okay, BJ. I promise."

He searched her face for a moment, finally seeing something he liked, and nodded. Tilting her head forward with the grip he still had on her face, he kissed her forehead. A small zing of awareness jolted her body, as it always did when she felt the firm, but soft, press of his lips on her skin. She told her body to stuff it. Not gonna happen. Not in this lifetime.

He let her go, sitting back down in his chair.

"See ya, Penny."

"See ya." She turned with a wave, heading back out the side door through Jacks and out to her car.

Dammit! She'd messed that up spectacularly. The question hadn't even gotten out before she choked on her nerves. A freak out was not what she needed right now. She needed confidence, eloquence…a set of balls. BJ's preferably, or really, what they produced. The truth of the matter was, she chickened out. Sitting in the stillness of her car, she sucked in a deep breath . She had to ask him . If she wanted to be a mother—and she did, with every fiber of her being—she needed to get over her fear and ask BJ for his sperm.

The best way she knew to get over her anxiety was with ice cream.

Starting her car, she pulled onto Goldmine Street and headed towards Kismet's only grocery store. She'd get bravery in the form of sugary dessert, and then she'd come back and ask BJ to give her the DNA she needed to make her dream come true. As she parked in the lot, she wondered if the store sold a ‘Hey, can I have your sperm to artificially inseminate myself?' greeting card.

Probably not.

Dang it.