Page 15 of Somebody To Love

“You good to drive?”

“All set.” He knew his limits. The whiskey earlier had loosened him up but worn off in the past few hours. They ran a business that supplied alcohol to people. They didn’t mess around with drunk driving. That shit didn’t fly at Jacks.

Ace nodded. “I’ll be home in a few.”

He and his brother shared a small house on the outskirts of town. They hadn’t been in the same unit in the military, but other than those eight years apart, they’d always lived together. They once shared a womb, and he was pretty sure they’d eventually share a grave plot too.

He left Jacks, getting into his truck and making the ten-minute drive home. The events of the day played over and over in his head. The pro and con list wobbled back and forth as he shucked his clothes, climbing under the covers of his king-sized bed. This was a big decision, possibly the biggest of his life. He needed to consider it with every caution.

Penny needed him. He knew he could say no. She wouldn’t hate him for it. It wouldn’t totally derail her dreams. She could still have a kid with some other guy’s sperm.

Something dark and mean churned in his gut at the thought. It didn’t sit right with him, Penny having another man’s baby. Not that he’d ever considered having a kid with her, but for some reason he didn’t like the idea of another man having a kid with her, even if it was some random sperm donor.

He had no idea what that meant, but he pushed it away for now. No reason to think about it when he hadn’t decided yet. Tomorrow he’d talk with Penny. They’d hash out some more details and then he’d make a fully informed decision.

But as he closed his eyes to go to sleep, all he could see in his mind was Penny’s face, bright and hopeful as he told her he’d think about it. The hope he’d seen lighting her up from the inside tugged at him. It would kill him to say no and crush her happiness. He lived his entire life trying to make the ones he loved happy. Penny was his best friend. He loved her, like he loved his brothers and sister. He’d give his life for her.

Guess the real question now was, would he give a life to her?

CHAPTER 8

Penny 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?”

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