Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

P enny checked on the lasagna baking in her oven. Okay, technically, it was reheating in her oven. Cooking was a skill she did not possess. Sit her down at a computer and tell her to create a website that allowed customers from all over the world to order and ship products and she'd finish before lunch. But ask her to make that lunch? No way. Once she burned butter and the stove wasn't even on.

Putting a frozen store-bought lasagna in the oven and setting a timer? Now that she could do. The cheese bubbled, thin bulbs rising and popping in the warm glow of the oven's heat. Rich, mouthwatering cheesy smells wafted from the closed door as she bent to inspect tonight's dinner. Everything looked good. The table had been set. The food was minutes away from being done, and her guest would arrive shortly.

Everything was perfect.

But would it stay that way?

Earlier today BJ had texted asking to come over tonight and discuss things more. She typed yes, heart jumping with hope inside her chest. He hadn't said he'd do it, but the tone had been hopeful. As much as one could read tone in a text. Positivity was key. She planned on keeping an optimistic outlook. She knew the favor she was asking of her best friend was of epic proportions. But according to all her research, it wasn't that uncommon. In cases of single women—or same-sex couples—male friends were often asked to donate. Not all said yes, but she had faith that BJ understood her need and would see that all she wanted from him was the chance to be a mom. She would not drag him into a family she knew he didn't want.

Strange, Bravo Jackson was the most loyal son and brother she'd ever met. He loved his mother and siblings with a fierceness that rivaled the most devoted family man. By all accounts, he enjoyed his family. It seemed odd that he never wanted to start one of his own. As long as she'd known him, he'd always been vehemently opposed to marriage and kids.

No. That wasn't true. He hadn't talked of a future family negatively until his father died. Granted, she hadn't known him long before. Lawrence Jackson had died in action at the very end of their junior year of high school. It had been a dark summer. She and BJ had only been friends for a little while, but she'd spent every moment she could with him that summer. Hiking, talking, sometimes simply sitting with him in the stillness of the mountains while he sat, silent tears sliding down his cheeks. She'd felt helpless beside him, not knowing what to do to ease his pain.

She'd never lost someone close to her. Honestly, she didn't have many people she'd consider close. Her family loved her. She never doubted it, but she was always the odd girl out. Her sister had been pretty and popular. Both of her parents were successful real estate agents, bubbly and outgoing. As the shy one of the family with more brains than personality, she never quite fit in. Though they loved her, her family never knew what to do with her. Once she got her autism diagnosis, some things clicked into place. It helped explain why she felt like an alien among humans most days.

But BJ had never cared how socially awkward or strange she was. He enjoyed hanging out with her.

He protected her.

He listened to her.

And so, she'd spent every moment that summer trying her best to help ease his pain. It took time, but eventually he smiled again. Sometimes she could still see the pain in his eyes. It would never fully go away. She supposed it never did after losing someone you loved, but BJ bounced back. She'd like to think she helped. However small it might have been.

The timer on the oven beeped at the same time a knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," she called as she donned oven-mitts and pulled the lasagna from the oven.

"You know, you really shouldn't shout ‘come in' to a knock on the door. What if I'd been a murderer?" BJ scolded as he entered.

She placed the steaming tray of delicious meat, noodles, sauce, and cheesy heaven on the hot pad, raising a brow at him as he made his way to her fridge and grabbed a beer like he lived in the place.

He was here so often he practically did.

"I knew you were coming over. Besides, this is Kismet. The last murder we had was a year ago when Steven Dooley killed the rose bush in front of Blithe Boutiques when he crashed into it on his skateboard."

BJ winced, closing the refrigerator door, and twisting the cap off his longneck. "Yeah, I think the poor kid got hurt worse than the bush. Thorns all over his ass, according to Doc Stevens. Didn't get any sympathy from Apple. Remember how she wanted the sheriff to lock him up for destruction of property?"

She laughed. Poor Steven. Kid got a butt full of thorns and Kismet's meanest geriatric on his case. There was a reason the town had nicknamed the old woman Crab Apple. Thank goodness Sheriff Gray and Olive had talked her down. Steven simply had to replant a new bush and promise never to skate in front of Blithe Boutiques again.

"Still," BJ continued, taking a sip of his beer. "You should be more careful. Especially if you're going to have a little one in the house."

Her heart leapt into her throat. "Does that mean you're agreeing to donate?"

A firm hand reached out to cup her face. His thumb stroking her cheek. "Honestly, I'm leaning that way, but we need to discuss a few things first before I say yes."

"Of course. Yes. Whatever you need to know, just ask." Refusing to let any darkness impede on the hope fluttering inside her, she motioned to the table. "Sit, sit. I'll get you some food."

As BJ took a seat at the dining table, she cut a large square of the lasagna. Long strings of steamy, hot cheese lifted from the tin tray. They stretched until they broke, hanging in the air as she scooped the serving onto a plate. She added some pre-mixed salad and a slice of French bread to the plate. Then she did the same to her plate, but with smaller portions.

"Dig in," she announced, placing the plate in front of him as she took her seat across from him at the table.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Minutes that stretched on into what felt like an eternity. Finally, once BJ had gotten halfway through his meal, he spoke.

"I know you aren't looking for me to be a partner of any kind in raising this child, but what will my role be?"

She paused with a bite of salad halfway to her mouth. "What do you mean? I don't understand."

"I'll be around. We're best friends. I'll be in the kid's life. Do we tell him or her I'm their sperm donor? Am I the fun uncle? Am I no one?"

"You're not no one, BJ." And she didn't like the pain she heard in his voice when he said that.

"What about when you find a guy and get married? What do we do then?"

Laughter bubbled out of her at the very idea. "Come on. We both know I'm never going to find a guy to marry me. Uber nerds aren't really wife material, or so says my ex."

He'd also told her he was worried any children they had would be autistic like her. But she hadn't told anyone that. It cut too deep. Lance saw her autism as a failing, a disease. Instead of what it was, a different type of processing. She was a Mac in a PC world. An iPhone among Androids. There were studies that said it was genetic, but why was that a bad thing? Life was only harder for her because of people like her ex, who thought she was less than them.

A dark cloud settled over BJ's features. "I really wish you'd never dated Dickwad."

"Lance, his name was Lance." But he had been a dickwad. Of the highest degree.

"His name is ‘Lucky I didn't beat his ass to the ground.'"

She knew he was serious, but she couldn't hold back the smile that curled her lips at his over the top, but very sweet anger on her behalf. "I don't think anyone would ever name their kid that. It's quite a mouthful."

The anger on his face eased, the tenseness of his mouth relaxing into his usual easy grin. "You know what I mean."

She did, and that right there was the reason she wanted his DNA. She knew BJ was a good person. Down to the very essence of his being. He would never hurt anyone for malicious reasons, but he would defend the people he loved with his last breath.

"He treated you like crap and put stupid notions in your head. You're an amazing woman, Penny. You're smart, funny, beautiful. Any man would be damn lucky to call you his."

Wow. BJ had complimented her before, but usually it was after she did something like fix his Wi-Fi or recover files he accidentally trashed on his laptop. And he'd never called her beautiful before.

Something warm fluttered low in her belly. An odd sensation she shoved away for the moment.

"Um, sure, okay." What did someone say to that? "I don't foresee any man in my future, but if I do…find one, they'd have to be okay with our friendship and…situation or they won't be the right guy for me."

"Fair enough."

"And as to what we tell the baby about their conception." She rose from the table to grab the three-ring-binder she'd been working on for over a year now. "Most donors who are friends or going to be in the baby's life prefer to take on the role of a beloved uncle. I think that would work out perfectly if that's what you want. When the time comes, we can explain things in deeper detail. I have numerous studies and research on how to explain unconventional conception to children. There're all kinds of books and some cartoons that help a parent explain things, at age-appropriate stages, of course."

She glanced up from the binder she had opened to see BJ holding in laughter.

"What?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. It's just so you."

"What's so me?"

"Your approach to this whole…strange situation."

It wasn't strange. She was simply asking her best friend for his sperm so she could make a baby and—okay, it was a little strange.

"You've done a lot of research on this." He indicated the binder with a nod of his head.

Clutching the pale blue plastic filled with hours upon hours of research, months of careful planning, and years of hopes and dreams, she nodded.

"I have. I know what I'm doing. I know what I am asking of you. You can be as involved as you want. Your family can be as involved as they want." Because she knew the Jacksons, and they would want to be a part of this child's life. She was completely okay with that. Heck, her life had been much better for having them in it. No way would she deny her own child the amazing love that was the Jackson family. "All I want is my baby."

He stared at her, those pale blue eyes serious, devoid of their usual humor and lightheartedness. After a few moments of silence, he nodded.

"Then I want to help you. My family will want to claim all the grandmother and auntie/uncle privileges. That includes spoiling the kid rotten, so get ready for that. And I'd like to be there too. To help you and…be in the baby's life."

Hope rose within her. Her heart pounded in her chest, threatening to burst from her chest with joy. Afraid this all might be a wonderful dream, she dug her nails into her palm until she felt the sharp sting of pain.

"Then, does that mean…?"

"Yes." BJ rose from the table to come and stand in front of her. "I'll donate my sperm to help you have a baby."

"Oh, BJ. Thank you!" She placed the binder on the table, flinging her arms around his neck and squeezing tight. His muscular arms wrap around her waist as he returned her embrace.

Joyful surprise filled her. He'd said yes! This was the happiest day of her life. She'd finally get everything she wanted. Not everything. Okay, she wouldn't be getting a devoted husband who loved her and stood by her side like she'd always imagined, but she was getting something better. A baby. She didn't need a husband. She had a best friend, a wonderful, amazing best friend who agreed to give Penny her heart's deepest desire.

Within the wave of euphoria crashing over her, a tiny storm cloud hovered in the distance. This was simply the first step in a process that could be filled with setbacks and disappointments. BJ said yes, but that didn't mean everything would work out like she hoped. She'd done her research. She knew the stats and success rates on IVF. Nothing was guaranteed.

She pushed away the pessimism trying to rain on her parade. Right now wasn't the time to dwell on probabilities. Now was a time to celebrate the first step in achieving her heart's dream. She was on the path, and it was thanks to her wonderful, generous, amazing best friend who was going to help her father a child.

She laughed a little at the absurdity of that statement.

Okay, she'd admit it. This was a strange situation indeed.