Page 79 of Eight Years Gone

Steve had set him up with a monthly allowance, the same whopping amount as Grace and Logan’s. But Jagger had never touched it—not once.

The small wage he’d earned working weekends when he could at the old Wakefield dojang had covered gas, car insurance, and a couple of necessities. Otherwise, he’d been chronically broke.

But that was then. He no longer needed anyone to take care of him. “Thanks for dinner.”

“We haven’t eaten it yet.”

He smiled. “I can take the receipt.” He opened his mouth for Grace to put the piece of paper between his lips, then headed down the hall, flipping on the light with his elbow as he moved into her office.

He set down the equipment in the corner by her other stuff, then stopped at her desk, finding her professional space as tidy as the rest of her home as he set down the receipt.

“Do you want to grab the advance copy of Travel?” Grace called down the hall. “It should be right there on the desk. I got it in the mail a couple of days ago, but I haven’t had a chance to check it out yet.”

“Definitely.” He grinned his pride when his gaze landed on the latest edition of Grace’s magazine. Immediately, he recognized her work on the cover.

Snatching it up, he stopped to grab the small stack of earlier editions on the right-hand corner of the desk, eager to look through all of them with Grace.

His smile faded as he stared at the pamphlets the magazines had covered.

The Adoption Option

Frowning, he picked it up, then swore as he read the next.

Artificial Insemination: Is It Right for You?

“What the—” Shocked as hell—and he didn’t know why—he walked back down the hall. What Grace did with her body was her choice, but they were supposed to make a family together.

Eight years ago, he left. He’d walked away and changed the rules. But they’d always talked about traveling the world, then settling down with a house and kids.

He’d been beyond lucky when he came home to find Grace unattached. Over the last month and a half, he’d let himself cozy into the idea that everything they’d dreamed of was still possible. “Gracie?”

She looked up as she dug through the bag, setting their dinner options on the counter. “Yeah?”

“What’s this?”

She frowned as she stared at the booklets he held in his hand before she snatched them away.

“You want to adopt?”

She stared at the pamphlets. “I don’t know.”

“You want a sperm donor?”

She jerked her shoulders. “I’m not sure about that either.”

“Adoption’s one thing, but Jesus, Grace, don’t do the frozen sperm thing.”

Her shoulders stiffened as she met his gaze again. “I’m a single twenty-eight-year-old who wants a family.”

He clenched his jaw when she called herself single. “I thought we were dating.”

She set the pamphlets on the counter. “We are.”

“I thought things were going well.”

“They are. But you’ve been home for a month and a half. We’ve been dating for less than a week. I’m just—I’m keeping my options open.”

Restless with an urgent sense of desperation, he slid his hand through his hair, not liking that she was considering any option but him.

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