Nashville Rebel. Sheri WhiteFeather
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moved closer and touched her cheek, marveling at how soft her skin was. “You’re allowed to let down your guard and enjoy it, Sophie.”
“I know.” She met his gaze, and they stared at each other.
He lowered his hand. Suddenly he felt as overwhelmed as she looked. There was another subject he wanted to discuss with her.
They headed for a shade tree. The sun was already bright in the sky. She drank more of her water, and he braced his back against the trunk, feeling the rough bark through his shirt.
Finally he said, “There’s something else I spoke to my doctor about.”
“What is it?” She sounded concerned. “What’s going on? Do you have a health issue?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. But I’ve made a decision. After you have the baby and we know everything is all right, I’m going to get a vasectomy.” He tried not to wince. The procedure itself gave him the willies, but the end result was important enough for him to follow through.
Her soulful brown eyes went big and wide. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I’m never going to be a donor again, and I don’t want to get caught up in another baby scare like I did with Kara, or accidentally make someone pregnant for real. I figured this way, there will only ever be one child in the world with my genes, and that kid will belong to you.”
“I don’t know what to say about that, Tommy.”
“You don’t need to say anything. I just wanted you to know that’s what I’ve got planned. I also want you to know that I’m going to set up a trust for the baby, for when it’s older.”
She studied him in a way that made him feel emotionally exposed. Then she said, “That isn’t necessary.”
He shrugged, using humor as his shield. “With a donor as rich and ornery as me, the kid should get something out of it.”
“You’re not ornery.” She spoke quietly, her voice as whispery as the breeze that had just kicked up.
“Maybe not, but I’ve got plenty of dough. And I want to make your son’s or daughter’s life easier.”
“Thank you.” She fussed with her hair, pressing some of the pins protruding from her messy bun back into place. “That’s really nice of you.”
He imagined her sprawled out on his bed and tangled up in his sheets, her long dark locks tumbling over a pillow. By now, the tiny trail of sweat between her breasts was making her cleavage glow. He looked away; he had to get control of himself. He knew he had to wait but she was making him hot and breathless.
“I’m going to Brandon’s office this afternoon to get his legal input.” He’d already briefed his brother over the phone, but they were going to finish their discussion in person. “Do you want to go with me?”
“I can’t. I’m meeting with Barbara today.”
Right, he thought—to sort out the details of her new job. “Okay, then. We’ll talk later, and I’ll let you know what Brandon says.” He had a pretty good idea of how her meeting was going to go. He’d already instructed Barbara to create a position for Sophie, giving her whatever she wanted. And Barbara, naturally, was delighted to do it.
She glanced toward her house. “I better go. I have to shower.”
He merely nodded, and as she bade him goodbye, he envisioned her slick and sudsy and wet. He had to keep these fantasies about her in check until it was time. But on and off he’d been having them for years. In some form or another, Sophie was always on his mind.
Brandon’s office was in the hub of Nashville, with a colorful view of the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum.
The location served as a reminder of who they were, Tommy thought, and how this city impacted them. Their daddy was featured in one of the museum’s galleries. Tommy was, too, with artifacts from his most successful tours. As for Brandon, he was an entertainment lawyer, representing the Talbots and other country heavy hitters. He was also an elected trustee at the museum. But Brandon had always been the high-class type, well-known and well-respected in Nashville society.
Tommy and Brandon had grown up in the same rich, privileged, crazy-ass house, but they were nothing alike. Still, they were as close as two completely opposite siblings could be. And lately, they’d banded together, helping their dad with his now three-year sobriety. They also supported their mom, a former supermodel, in her beauty-business endeavors, making investments and buying stock in her company. Mom had rebranded herself, and was starring in her own infomercials, selling cosmetics and skin-care products.
When Tommy first explained the donor situation over the phone, Brandon had reacted in a perfectly professional way. No personal opinions, no judgments. Even now, he was as cool as a corporate cucumber. He looked the part, too, in an impeccable gray suit, his short black hair slicked straight back, his chiseled jaw clean-shaven. He’d inherited regal qualities from their mother’s side. Tommy didn’t have any of that.
“I’d be glad to represent both you and Sophie,” Brandon was saying. “I can draw up what’s called a known-donor contract, clarifying the details you agreed upon. But first I’m going to consult with a colleague of mine who’s versed in this area of law. I want to be sure there aren’t any unforeseen events that we should include in the contract, things you and Sophie might’ve not considered.”
“Whatever you need to do.” He trusted his brother to get it done right. They were two years apart, with Brandon being older and obviously wiser. Besides, Tommy didn’t like to fuss with the business end of things.
The wiser one squinted. “I hate to bring this up, but has Sophie thought about who she would name as the child’s guardian in case she becomes incapacitated or dies? Family members are usually preferred, but Sophie doesn’t have any family. And since you’ll be signing away your rights, you wouldn’t have any legal claim on the minor. Not unless you petitioned the courts, and with you not wanting to have a direct role as the father, I don’t see you as doing that.”
Tommy’s gut tensed. The kid hadn’t even been conceived yet, and now they were discussing the possibility of the child becoming an orphan. When he thought about how Sophie’s mom had died, the tension inside him worsened. “I have no idea who she would name as guardian, but I’ll bring it to her attention. Then she can consult with you about it.”
Brandon looked him square in the eye. “Maybe she can appoint someone in our family. Mom would probably be willing to do it.”
“Yeah, she probably would.” Their mother was hoping for grandkids someday, and the likelihood was pretty damn close to nil if she had to rely on her sons. Brandon wasn’t any more settled than Tommy in that regard. “Mom and Dad probably aren’t going to like this donor decision of mine.” He’d decided to wait to tell them until he and Sophie worked out the legal details, and now there was the guardian issue she would need to consider, too.
“No, I don’t suspect they’ll like the idea of you being a donor. Knowing Mom, she’ll accept it easier than Dad will. She tends to be more pliable than he is. But it’s your life, not theirs.”
“Yeah, and considering the lives they’ve led, they don’t have a whole lot of room to talk.” Their parents used to have an agreement where their dad had been allowed to sleep with other women. Their mother’s only stipulation was that he wouldn’t father children with anyone except her, and he’d broken that vow when he’d sired Matt. “Do you think Mom was really okay with Dad screwing around like he did? Or do you think she just accepted it as part of what came with the territory?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never asked her about it. But she’ll be telling her side of the story in the biography, so it’s all going to become public, anyway. From my understanding, Matt’s mom has already been interviewed. Her story will be included, as well.”
“Well, I think our mom is