Brown-Eyed Handsome Man
Hyde Wyndham and I planned to have a baby together, a little girl with his honey-brown eyes or maybe a little boy with his warm café au lait skin.
“She could be blonde, Kipp,” Hyde murmured against my own blond hair. “He could have blue eyes, just like yours.”
Or green eyes. Hyde’s mom, a wonderful woman who was quickly becoming the mother I’d never had, had green eyes.
Before we’d left on our honeymoon in Fiji, the doctors had taken samples of our sperm and had done a little gene manipulating, replacing the egg’s DNA with mine so this baby would be made from both our genetic material. After all, this was the twenty-first century, and things like that were becoming commonplace. Besides, my husband was a billionaire businessman who could have it done with the sna
