Mrs. Feeney’s plush face dimpled. “Aren’t toads amphibians?”
“They are,” Yasmin said, nodding as she inched toward the exit. “But I think when it comes to reptiles and amphibians it’s the thought that counts.”
Mrs. Feeney’s confused expression deepened.
“And the thought here was clearly a need to share a love of exotic, cold-blooded creatures with the people of Lonesome Point,” Yasmin hurried on. “And if that’s not worthy of some special attention, I don’t know what is.”
“Well, I—”
“So, if you could swing by his exhibit today and have a look around, that would be so great,” Yasmin said, reaching for the door. “And we can talk more then. I’ll be helping Mom all afternoon and have nothing but time to listen.”
“All right, then.” Mrs. Feeney shook her head gently. “But I hope you will listen, dear. I know how you are when you’ve got your heart set on something, but raising a baby alone is hard work. And I can’t help thinking this sperm donor thing is a bad idea. I mean, this man might look good on paper, but who knows what he’s really like. For all we know, he could be a serial killer, too.”
Yasmin’s stomach bottomed out, and a sour taste flooded through her mouth.
It was the worst thing Mrs. Feeney could have said. The absolute worst. But before Yasmin could recover from the verbal punch to the gut, a deep voice sounded from behind her, proving her firmly held belief that no matter how bad things are they can always get worse.
“It’s true; I could be a serial killer.”
Yasmin turned slowly until she was gazing up into the very sexy, very unamused brown eyes of none other than Noah O’Sullivan.
CHAPTER SIX
Yasmin
Before Yasmin could think of the right thing to say at a moment like this, Mrs. Feeney broke into nervous giggles. A moment later, she had bustled around Yasmin, knocking a small stack of menus off the hostess stand as she moved toward Noah with her hand held out.
“So you’re the donor! Oh my goodness, you are handsome. And so tall!” Mrs. Feeney turned back to Yasmin, blue eyes wide in her moon-shaped face. “Isn’t he handsome, Yasmin?”
Yasmin nodded slowly, too sick to her stomach to think of anything to say.
“And you two would have a beautiful child,” Mrs. Feeney continued as she claimed Noah’s hand and pumped it up and down. “I hope you’ll forgive me for my comment before. It’s just that I’ve known Yasmin since she was a tiny little baby herself, and I worry about her. She’s always been headstrong.”
“I can imagine,” Noah said, meeting her gaze over Mrs. Feeney’s head. “Her e-mails have been very…determined.”
“Determination is the most important tool in the quest for satisfaction.” Yasmin tried to smile, but her lips only trembled a moment before going limp once more. She cleared her throat, willing her flagging confidence back to life. Determination couldn’t go it alone. She had to get Confidence in the ring to help out. “If you’ll excuse us, Mrs. Feeney, Noah and I clearly have some things to talk about.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Feeney said, clasping her hands beneath her chin. “I’ll catch up with you later, dear. After I’ve had a chance to check out those reptiles you’re so concerned about.”
As Mrs. Feeney bustled away—no doubt in a hurry to tell the rest of the Sunshine Society all about the sperm donor drama happening on the other side of the restaurant—Noah’s brows drifted higher on his forehead. “Reptiles?”
“Don’t ask.” Yasmin sighed, lifting a hand to rub at her temple.
“I would like to ask,” Noah said. “It sounds like between the reptiles and poultry you’re living a pretty exciting life. But it seems we have some other things to discuss first.”
Yasmin pressed her lips together, fighting an unexpected wave of emotion. “Yeah. I guess we do. What are the chances, huh?”
“Well, how many people are there in Lonesome Point?” he asked, shoving his big, sexy hands into the pockets of his gray pants. He was dressed like a city slicker today, in tailored pants and a black button up that emphasized the lean, muscled lines of his to-die-for body. “I’m pretty good at running probability equations in my head. I could get us a decent estimate.”
Her breath rushed out in a nervous laugh. “Right. Because you’re a genius. I know this about you. God, this is…awkward.”
“It is.” He stepped closer, adding beneath his breath, “And I don’t think it’s going to get much better. I’m pretty sure by the time we get back to our table, everyone in this diner is going to know what we’re here to talk about.”
Yasmin winced as she nodded. “Of course they will. Mrs. Feeney isn’t known for her subtlety and her voice carries.” She sighed. “I’m sure most of the people here in front already heard her opinions on sperm donors.”
“I’m sure,” he agreed. “Here’s what I think we should do. Table the meeting for now. We’ve already got a date tonight. Might as well talk things over then, when we’ll have a chance to be alone.”
Yasmin blinked up at him. “Really? You-you still want to have dinner tonight?”
“I do. I’ll bring a picnic, and we can stake out a spot far from the madding crowd. Barbecue sandwiches and beer okay? Or would you prefer something different?”
“Barbecue and beer are great,” she said, forehead tightening. “But Noah, really, we don’t have to have dinner. I understand if you—”
“We’re having dinner,” he said, shutting her down with a firmness that sent prickles across her skin. And then he reached out and took her hand, squeezing it lightly in his, and the prickles became tingles of awareness. “See you at six. Outside the thrift shop. I’ll be the guy with the picnic basket and blanket.”
“Okay,” Yasmin said, not trusting herself to say anything else, not when her blood was starting to rush and the urge to step closer to Noah’s warm, strong body was pulsing through her veins. She was definitely attracted to this man, no doubt about it, which probably meant she should run after him, cancel their date, and head back to the sperm bank to start combing through the list of potential donors all over again.
Instead, she watched Noah O’Sullivan stride down the sidewalk outside the windows, walking like a man who knew exactly what he wanted and how he was going to get it, and wondered what the heck was going to happen tonight.
Was he going to let her down easy? Or were they going to end up on that blanket he said he was bringing, making out under the stars?
Both options were upsetting for different reasons, but one thing was for certain—her simple plan had just gotten even more complicated.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Noah
Noah spent half the day telling himself that the fact that Yasmin was the woman who wanted to have his baby didn’t change his decision in any way. The logic was still the same, as were the consequences of contributing genetic material to a child who wouldn’t be a part of his life.