With My Whole Heart Read online

  Connor waited a minute, but while the doctor kept talking, it was just going through the process again with Marie and Cooper. Everything he said was about the procedure, and nothing else. “How’s Jaime?”

  “The donor? She did well. She’ll be in recovery for a while, then be released to go home.” He turned to Marie, holding out his hand to say goodbye.

  Hearing her coldly referred to like that was something Connor found he didn’t like it at all. “Jaime,” he said insistently, and the doctor turned to look at him. “Her name is Jaime. Can I go see her?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were with the Thompsons. Yes, of course, I’ll take you back.”

  Slightly mollified, Connor followed the doctor to the area set aside for recovery without glancing at Cooper and Marie. Jaime was in a hospital bed, rails raised, head turned to the side. Lips parted slightly, she was snoring lightly, hair still half-tucked in the cap they’d put on her before he’d been forced to leave her earlier. Beautiful, loyal, smart, loving. She’s funny, too. Standing next to the bed, he stared down at her, watching her sleep while he tried to sort out what was in his head.

  ***

  Jaime

  Still drowsy due to the sleepless nights caused by a combination of her financial situation and dreading the procedure, Jaime was dozing on the couch when she heard the front door. “Hey, bud,” she called softly, not wanting Nate to worry about seeing her on the couch when she’d normally be bustling around the kitchen.

  Connor had left a few minutes ago to run an errand, promising to return and pick up Nate for practice. She squinted, trying to see the clock on the front of the microwave, finding to her surprise Connor had been gone more than an hour. She lay her head back down with a sigh of relief, feeling the wings of sleep folding back around her. Thankfully, the nausea that had plagued her all day wasn’t as bad when she was entirely prone.

  Noise somewhere in the apartment woke her again and she assumed it was Nate, so she called a question, “Homework?”

  “All done.” She rolled to her side to find Nate’s face right in front of her. He was seated on the floor beside the couch, already dressed in his basketball clothes.

  “Didn’t you just get home?” Shifting, she held out a hand and he grabbed it tightly. “I’m sorry I was sleeping, buddy. Did you get a snack?”

  “Mom, I just got home from practice.” Belatedly she realized his hair was wet, streaks of perspiration on the shirt, too.

  There was a soft buzz of voices in the apartment and she twisted, trying to see over the arm of the couch. “Hello?”

  “Just me,” Connor said, striding into view and crouching beside where Nate sat. “How you feeling, Jaime?”

  “Confused.” She cleared her throat. “Was someone here?”

  “Marie. She stayed with you while Nate and I went to practice.” He moved, holding out a hand, putting his palm on her forehead. “Are you hungry yet?”

  “I am,” Nate piped up. “Starved.”

  She got to watch as this beautiful man turned his full attention on her son and smiled at him with affection. The only other man who had ever looked at Nate like that was her brother. Affection and tolerance, combined with a warmth that seemed soul deep. Connor’s smile turned to a mischievous grin as he said, “Good thing we got two double supreme pizzas, then.”

  “Marie was here?” Connor turned back to her and nodded. She realized his hand was still on her forehead, his fingers absently brushing through her hair. “I’m sorry. I’m still confused.”

  “Nate, the pizzas are on top of the oven. Wanna make your mom and me a plate, then make one for yourself?” From the corner of her eye, she saw her son nod and then get up, disappearing behind Connor as he went to the kitchen. “You’ve been sick off and on since we got home. There was no way you could make basketball. I figured if Nate had to miss the clinic tonight, you’d feel even worse once you realized.” He smiled at her. “I could have called one of my assistants to pick him up and run practice for me while I stayed here, but I didn’t have your permission. I know Marie, and she would have kicked my ass if I’d left you here alone and something had happened. She said you slept the whole time I was gone.”

  Jaime struggled to get an elbow underneath her, trying to push up to a sitting position. Connor moved close and wrapped an arm around her back. He held her when she swayed, the room spinning around her. She swallowed, fighting nausea. “I’m sorry.” He was just supposed to bring me home. She swallowed again.

  “Coach, you want to eat at the table?” Nate called from the kitchen.

  “Yeah, bud, just gimme a minute.” Connor’s voice turned quiet, pitched for her ears only when he asked, “You gonna get sick, Jaime? We can go to the bathroom if you need.” She shook her head, then nodded as bitter fluid flooded her mouth. He was up in a single movement, arm under her legs, cradling her to his chest as he carried her to the bathroom. “Hold on, Jaim.”

  He placed her on the edge of the tub and leaned over, lifting the toilet cover and ring. One hand on her arm, holding her in place while she retched, he stretched and grabbed a clean cloth from the stack in an open cabinet. He dropped it in the sink and flipped the faucet to cold, letting the water run over the cloth. She sat up and reached to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand and he beat her to it, the cold rag feeling good against her skin.

  “They said this was normal. When I called, I mean.” Seated on the edge of the tub beside her, he was so much taller she had to look up into his face. “If we can get some food into you, they said it will probably get better. Nate and I stopped at the store on the way home, and I picked up the soups he said you liked.”

  “You called the clinic?” He nodded. “And bought food?” He nodded again. “I’m so sorry. I know you didn’t expect this to turn into an extended stay like this. I’ll pay you back.” She took the cloth from him, suddenly aware that he was still using it to stroke her forehead and cheeks. Pushing to her feet, she leaned against the counter to turn on the cold water and scooped a handful into her mouth to rinse out the sour taste. Spitting discreetly, she swirled water around the sink, then continued, “For everything.”

  “Pizza and soup won’t break me, Jaim.” That was the second time she’d heard him call her that, and she liked it. It was almost like Jacob’s nickname for her, James. She’d noticed he’d picked up her nickname for Nate, too, calling him “bud” earlier. He probably nicknames everyone, she thought. Isn’t that something coaches do? “Let’s get something in your belly before you blow away.”

  That was it, she realized. She knew she was thin, and he probably thought that could present problems for the pregnancy. Before she could react, he had scooped her up again, carrying her to the couch. “I can get my soup. You should eat the pizza before it gets cold. I’m feeling much better now, wide awake. I’m sure pizza isn’t your favorite pick for dinner. If you’d like to leave, Nate and I will be fine.” She pushed at his chest, surprised when his arms tightened around her instead of releasing. “Please.”

  He ignored that as well and instead, settled her on the couch before tucking the blanket in around her legs. Bending so he was close, he asked her, “Pizza or soup?”

  “Connor—”

  He shook his head, an expression she didn’t understand on his face as he repeated, “Pizza or soup?”

  Jaime pressed her lips together and watched as his gaze dropped to her mouth, his eyes darkening before he looked back into her eyes. “Soup.” He’d moved closer, and there were only a few inches between them when she blurted, “What kind of soup did you get?”

  “Chicken tortellini and a turkey bean. Got a preference between the two? Nate assured me they were your favorites.” He moved, and she thought he was going to touch her again; then his hand fell away as he straightened, unfolding to his full height.

  “Chicken tortellini. Nate didn’t steer you wrong.”

  He smiled then, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a quick grin. “Good to know. One bowl
of soup, coming up.” Lifting his head, he called out as he moved to the kitchen, “Nate, bud, did you save me any pizza?”

  She wasn’t lying, she did feel better. And then after she ate the soup Nate brought her, carefully balancing the full bowl between hands covered by oven mitts, she felt even better.

  ***

  Connor

  Jesus, man. What in the actual fuck am I thinking? After staying until Nate’s bedtime, he’d left Jaime with a promise of help if she needed him. Twenty minutes later, he was still sitting in the cab of his truck in the parking lot, staring up at the building Jaime and Nate lived in. The entire structure was flat, no windows to break the monotony of the red and white brick and mortar. No light, no air, and until now, no hope.

  Talking to Nate was a revelation, because he found Jaime was entirely correct about her son. He was brilliant beyond anything Connor had ever known, so smart it took some getting used to. He was a genius, but he was also nine years old. That meant he didn’t know what was, and was not okay to talk about when it came to his mother.

  Out of work. Selling plasma to buy groceries. Taking cash jobs to pay rent. Doing all of that and still being there for her kid when he needed her. Making sure Nate had every chance he deserved, putting her boy first in everything.

  It wouldn’t surprise Connor to find out she’d started down the path to surrogate because of the money. Uterus for rent. His mouth twisted in anger at the idea she’d been driven to that by desperation. Even as he thought that, he knew it wasn’t like that for her now. Not after meeting Cooper and Marie. She was a woman on a mission.

  Nate’s dad came from money. She shouldn’t have had to struggle like this to raise his son. Nate’s grandparents on that side of the family sounded like total assholes. Connor leaned forwards, resting his forehead against his crossed wrists on the steering wheel.

  Jaime’s family was better, but not here. She sounded so stubborn Connor was certain they didn’t have a clue how things were for her. Her brother would be here in a heartbeat, based on what Nate said about his uncle.

  Single mom, making things work all on her own. Just like a thousand others like her.

  They weren’t like her, though. Never met anybody like her. He snorted. How can I feel like I’ve known her my whole life, when I really just met her today?

  He straightened and shoved the key into the slot, twisting until the engine roared. She’s not on her own anymore.

  Chapter Eight

  Connor

  Seated at his desk, he stared down at the phone resting between his hands. On the screen was Jaime’s number, entered into his phone by Nate last night at Connor’s request. An excuse of, “So I can let her know about practice,” enough for the kid. He’d forced himself to wait all day, eyes to the clock in each classroom like a horny boy on a Friday afternoon. Impatient for the day to be over with so he could talk to the object of his fascination. In that boy’s world, there would be a girl with flirty moves, hair flips and batting eyes, girlfriends who clustered around and giggled at everything the fledgling couple said or did. For Connor, it was the chance to hear her voice again, to listen to her talk about anything at all.

  Remember, asswipe, she’s Coop’s surrogate.

  Right, like his cock had remembered that this morning when he’d had to tug one out in the shower, hard as a rock at the memory of watching her sleep on her lousy, lumpy couch.

  I’m just checking on her.

  Right, because the clinic wouldn’t have done that. The memory of her throwing up rocketed to the top of his thoughts, not a sexy memory, but she’d been so sick it had scared him. It had scared Nate, too, and that bugged Connor, not liking how the boy had paled when he’d got home from school to find his mother on the couch with a bowl nearby.

  With a growl, he grabbed the phone and locked it, tossing it back to the desktop. He opened his roster on the computer, working through his first string for an upcoming game. When he realized he’d put the same kid down twice, he growled again and snagged the phone.

  Not giving himself time to think, he went to her number and pushed the Call button.

  “Hello?” Her voice was strong and sweet, the uplifted tone questioning who would be calling her was so cute he forgot to answer for a moment. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

  “Jaime,” he sounded choked, and cleared his throat. “Hi, it’s Connor.”

  “Connor.” She sounded worried, and he wondered why. Then she said, “Is everything okay? Are Marie and Cooper okay?”

  “Coop? Yeah. He’s… they’re fine, I’m sure. I haven’t heard anything…I just called to check on you. See how you’re doing.” He paused, then rolled his eyes at his own lameness. “So how are you? Doing, I mean?”

  Sounding slightly confused, Jaime said, “I’m well, thank you.” She must have thought him calling was a demand for more thanks, because she followed that with, “It was very kind, what you did last night. What with taking me home, and then taking Nate to practice. I’m glad you called, Connor. I’d hoped to have a chance to tell you thank you again.” A pause, then he could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “So, thank you.”

  “Did you have any trouble falling asleep after I left?” He had. He’d gotten home and then climbed into bed, tossing and turning because his brain wouldn’t shut off. What if she’d gotten ill again? What if Nate didn’t hear her?

  Her soft laugh made him catch his breath. “No, I slept like a baby. If it hadn’t been for Nate, I would have overslept this morning, in fact.”

  “Well, I’m glad that didn’t happen. It’s good that the sickness has passed, yeah?” Oh good, remind her she was puking in front of me. “Soup did the trick.” And now she’s going to think I’m talking about buying groceries, again. “I enjoyed playing games with you and Nate. He’s a great kid.”

  There was no discernable tension in her voice when she agreed with him, and he let out a silent whoosh of relieved air. “Yeah, he is pretty awesome.” Then she reminded him why this call was a bad idea. “When I told him about being a surrogate and asked him what he wanted me to tell the parents, his first thought was to not tell them about how smart he was. He wanted to focus on basketball, and how he did things without being asked. It’s always validating to hear what kids think are the most important things.”

  “Yeah,” he said softly. There was noise in the gym and he looked up to see a row of kids at the window, hands cupped around their faces as they stared in at him. Looking at the clock, he realized he was ten minutes late starting practice. “Team practice is about to start. I just wanted to check on you, Jaime. Maybe we can do another night in like that sometime soon.”

  “I’d like that.” Her voice was a near whisper. “Goodbye.”

  “Bye.”

  ***

  Jaime

  Three days, three calls from Connor. These conversations had become a regular part of her evening so easily, it was frightening.

  “Bye.” She ended the call and closed her eyes, resting the phone on her chest for a minute.

  When she saw his name on the display, her heart would speed up. Answering the call was worse, because the sound of his voice made her want to close her eyes, focusing on him. It meant in the silences, she could hear the pounding of her own heartbeat.

  Tonight had been a difficult conversation. The anniversary of Brice’s death was approaching, and she’d made a comment about how calendars didn’t have a pause button.

  “Don’t I know it,” Connor said, his voice suddenly gruff. “Holidays and birthdays, everything seems to come at me faster every year.”

  “It’s weird, isn’t it? How when it comes time for a tough anniversary, something you dread, you still want someone to say something? But people don’t know what to do, so they don’t do anything.” She sighed, curling a strand of hair around her finger. “It’s like they don’t know what’s right. Do they mention it and risk reminding you in case you’d forgotten, or do they ignore it, and give you space to ignore it, too?�
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  “Yeah. When all you want is to be able to tell someone, ‘Hey, I’m glad you remember, too.’” He was quiet for a minute, then asked, “What was Nate’s dad like?”

  “Brice? Best guy in the world.” Jaime felt her lips curl into a smile. “We were high school sweethearts. So sappy. When I look back, it’s crazy how in love we were.”

  “His parents didn’t approve, did they?” He didn’t hold any censure in his tone; this was just an inquiry for him. Nothing more. She told herself he didn’t know what she’d been like. Jaime had been Brice’s girlfriend, not a care in the world. All of that was so far from her life now it could have happened on a different planet.

  “No, they didn’t like me. Not for their boy.” She shifted, turning to her side, propping the phone underneath her head. “He was destined for greatness. I heard his daddy say those words a thousand times. ‘Destined for greatness,’ when all Brice wanted was the music. It mattered to him, because it was beautiful.”

  “And you mattered to him, too.” Connor’s tone was rich, low and vibrating, and she didn’t know what to do with the implied compliment, that she was important because she was beautiful.

  “He loved me. Told me he knew the moment we met.” Sadness suffused her at these bittersweet memories. “Worst day of my life, hearing the news that he was dead.” She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Losing someone is hard. You know how it is. One day they’re there, talking and laughing and planning.”

  “And the next moment they are gone.” Connor’s voice had gone flat and hollow, his words clipped. “I knew when Cole died. Knew the minute he died. We were twins, did you know?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered, because anything louder would have been disrespectful.

  “I think it was my fault.” Not a whisper, but his words sounded strangled, and she suddenly wished they weren’t on the phone, but that she was standing in front of him, and could hold him, and comfort him. “We’d always done everything together. He’d never had to worry about watching his back, because I was there. Unspoken, we’d have the other, come hell or high water.”