Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Of course, all of that was assuming the perfectly perfect sperm she’d paid top dollar for wasn’t ripped from her clutches before her insemination appointment next Monday.
Because of course, the clinic director who’d sold her the sperm had made a mistake and sold her a specimen that was supposed to be in the “storage only” fridge. And of course, the sperm donor, upon being informed of the mistake, was not on board with having his sample used by a stranger. And of course, Yasmin had already gotten her heart set on the sperm of the only double PhD holder in the sperm bank.
The man had his doctorate in both computer science and social work for God’s sake. He was both scientifically brilliant and kind. Not to mention that the stud was also allegedly six foot two with a “muscular build,” which would help compensate for the fact that Yasmin was just a hair over five feet and inclined to get a little curvier than average.
Basically, he was perfect, and in her mind, already the other half of her baby’s genetic code.
She just had to convince him to change his mind…whoever he was.
If she lived through this rooster attack, she would find out tomorrow morning, when she had a date to meet TheArkIsAMyth—his e-mail handle, the only thing she knew about this guy, who hadn’t even wanted to trust her with his name—for breakfast at Dixie’s Diner to discuss this whole mixup.
As Yasmin jogged out of the town square, past city hall, and out into the fields at the edge of town, with Sampson the Third still hot on her heels, living to see tomorrow morning no longer seemed like a foregone conclusion. Her breath rasped in her chest, her legs were beginning to cramp, and the rooster was showing no signs of stopping. Meanwhile, the sounds of civilization and all the happy Lonesome Point citizens enjoying the town festival were fading away.
She was on her way into the wilderness where she would either get obscenely sweaty outrunning a rooster in the mid-day sun or pass out from heat exhaustion and be pecked to death. Either way, she supposed she was glad she would be alone when it was all over.
Like most personable, perky people, Yasmin enjoyed the company of others, but when she was at her lowest, she liked to be alone.
Alone with her shame, her sweat, and her irresistible-to-roosters and other bastards, curvier than average, nearly-thirty-five-years-old-and-not-getting-any-more-fertile body.
CHAPTER TWO
Noah
Noah O’Sullivan stood next to his cousin, Bruce, surveying a field of ready-to-be-harvested, frost-and-bug-resistant asparagus, thinking that it wasn’t quite fair that everything his genius cousin touched came up roses.
Or at least, green and healthy and ready to be used to feed people and rebuild nations.
Noah’s touch wasn’t quite so magical. Sure, he was as successful as his cousin in his chosen field—anti-espionage and alternative-education computer software—but his personal life…
Well, it could be better.
A lot better.
Like not dating Miss Wrong for the umpteenth time better. He’d tried everything from dating websites to singles’ groups, to bar hops, to a professional matchmaking service that guaranteed your money back if they failed to hook you up with a long-term relationship. Noah’s money had been returned two months ago, when he’d caught Kyra, the yoga teacher he’d met through the service, banging his secretary in the company bathroom. The female secretary, but in the men’s bathroom.
It was almost like they’d wanted him to catch them…
He sighed, trying to think of something complimentary to say about the asparagus. He had always enjoyed his visits to Lonesome Point. The fact that he was here to talk a woman out of having his baby and arrange for the transfer of his other sperm samples before the idiots at the clinic could sell off the rest of his baby batter in storage to the highest bidder didn’t mean he couldn’t have a good time. Or at least, be pleasant company.
“It’s very green.” Noah nodded seriously at the field. “And…firm. It looks nice and firm.”
Bruce chuckled. “Are you sure you want to buy a farm someday? Your enthusiasm for agriculture seems a little lacking, cuz.”
“My enthusiasm for everything is a little lacking right now.”
“I think you should be flattered,” Bruce said, that amused grin that had been tugging at his lips most of the day creeping across his face. “I mean, a woman is so desperate for your superior jizz that she’s willing to pay two thousand dollars for one shot at becoming your baby mama.”
“She wouldn’t be my baby mama.” Scowling, Noah tugged his ball cap lower on his forehead. In San Francisco, he spent most of his time indoors and his skin wasn’t ready for the intensity of June-in-Texas sun. “She would be a stranger having a child with half of my genetic material. A fatherless child since she isn’t married or involved and apparently has no plans to be.”