The car started on the fourth attempt and I took a long, brave breath in. I'd hesitated to take her up on her offer, but in the end I had. And gratefully. Resourceful as I am, I was also equally broke and pretty much at the end of my options.
India and I had hit it off instantly about six months ago. We were both attending a seminar on bronze casting techniques and bonded over the fruit and cheese plates. For her, it was refreshment. For me, my first and last meal of the day. I floored the gas and hit max speed of forty-three miles an hour. I'd be at India's condo before nightfall, anyway…
It's not like we were actually friends, not really. But she's bright and fun, and as passionate about art as I am. I could tell she's conventional, probably grew up wanting for nothing. But she's also free spirited and adventurous, and you just can't help admiring that in a person. But like I said, we're not really friends. Not that she wouldn't be a great one. It's just that I don't do friendships. Or relationships. Or any very meaningful, permanent-type deals. It's just not who I am.
Twenty-four years ago, Real Mom gave me up for adoption. A sort of Birth Day present for the girl who had nothing. All I know for sure is that she couldn't keep me, but legally gave me the name I've kept ever since. I've been the same Libby Jones in every one of a dozen foster homes throughout my short childhood. Some good, some not so good. I grew up with a sense of living both everywhere and nowhere all at once, with no family to belong to, but with an artistic drive that made up for whatever else I might have missed out on…
I know how to be strong, creative and obstinate. I'm a survivor, and in many ways it may be Real Mom I have to thank for that. I'm also smart enough not to get too close, too attached. I'll take risks, try new and scary things. I'll do what I have to do, in order to keep making the tiny living, breathing sculptures that I'm driven to create. Anything, everything I might go through in life is worth it, to keep shaping the clay. Call it my best shot at immortality.
The Bug shudders like something important may be looser than it should be, but I'm only five minutes from India's. Like I said, I'm grateful for a place to crash, but I'm not one for owing favors. I need to pay my own way and soon. I want to be out of her condo within the next two weeks, tops. That's why I'm hoping she'll have good news when I get there.
I've been seriously considering the idea she proposed some weeks ago. And I really think I'm up for it. If her brother agrees, that is. She told me he's a divorced man, considering hiring a surrogate to carry his child. It would involve meetings and interviews and medical exams… the whole nine yards and then some. He may not even go for it in the end, or he may choose another woman for the job. But she says he wants a family more than anything and would be able to give a baby every advantage in life. And he'd pay a hundred and fifty thousand dollars for my services. Many times the standard rate for surrogacy. Enough to set me up in a real studio of my own. It could be my one real break in life. I decided pretty quickly that if Jack Mason picked me, I was in.
But could I have a baby, and give it away, never to watch it grow up, or walk, or see its first smile? That was something I'd thought about long and hard. And frankly, I figure it's probably what I'm best suited for. Even though my body has been giving me all the signals for a while now that it's ripe and ready, eager to get on with what it was designed for, I have no skills and no desire to raise a child. Oh, and did I mention… no resources?
A baby needs a parent who can provide a loving, stable home. Someone who's always dreamed of having a family and is committed to the long haul. Someone who had great parents of their own as role models and maybe a big, extended family. That's the kind of parent every baby really needs. And that's just not me. I'd make a much better Imaginary Mom than a real one. So from everything India told about Jack, it sounds like we could be the answer to each other's prayers.
As if on cue, my phone started up with India's ringtone, reminding me the cell company hadn't cut my service off yet. I pulled over and answered, my heart beating just a little too fast.
"Jack's in, Libby. I got the call and he's in, all the way."
I sucked in a lungful. "This is happening?" I squeaked out. "Like, now?" Suddenly my ordinary day felt very surreal. "He hasn't even met me yet…"
"Right now, Lib. Jack wants us at his place… in an hour."
3
Jack
The lake was calm as glass. My guts were churning like a maelstrom, in spite of the long run I'd had that morning. I stood on the deck with a beer in my hand that did little to soothe me. India was due any minute, bringing with her the woman who just might become the mother of my firstborn child.
I was confident every move I'd made had been the right one. Elaine and I had tried for a family and failed. Then she'd decided motherhood and marriage weren't for her after all. A long, lonely year had passed for me in deep and profound contemplation of what mattered most to me in life. And as always, the answer was a family of my own. I was all done putting something that important in the hands of fate. Even though I felt strongly that the very best way to have a family was the old-fashioned way… a loving mom and dad raising a big, healthy, happy brood together, I couldn't take the chance that it might never happen for me that way. It's hard enough to find a great relationship, harder still to find someone who wants the same things… God knows, I'd tried.
India had been the one to mention surrogacy again. Always thinking outside the box, she'd insisted that just because Elaine and I were divorced, didn't mean surrogacy wasn't still an option. And she'd met a woman who wanted to experience bearing a child, but had no real desire to raise one. Plus, she truly needed the money…
The facts were simple. I wanted children and I couldn't wait forever. This was the perfect time in my life to become a father, and I knew I'd be a great one. I'd grown up with all the joys, frustrations, chaos and love of being surrounded by four siblings that meant the world to me. My daddy clock was fucking ticking away, and I was all done with wasting time.
I'd always dreamed of having kids the usual way, you know… Making the mutual decision to try for a baby, the romantic dinners, the candlelight. Taking my wife in my arms, then carrying her to bed. Taking her body and giving her mine, exploring her ripeness for the first time with nothing but skin between us. I'd wanted the experience of exploding inside her, filling her with my seed and knowing that we'd begun the journey of pregnancy and the ultimate miracle of giving birth together… Truth was, I'd always found the whole idea incredibly erotic.
But not every dream can come to fruition. And it was far more important that my children be born, the sooner the better. I'd be the most committed dad in the world, and I could give my kids grandparents and uncles and a wonderful aunt. Children of mine would want for nothing. And as for a birth mother… well, it would be business, pure straightforward business. There would be interviews and medical exams, procedures when the time came. And the contract. The very legal and binding contract.
I heard the car before I saw it, rounding the long drive in from around the lake. India parked next to my Jag and I headed down to greet them. I was eager as hell for my first glance at Libby, but she was still inside as India bounded out.
"Shit, Jack. Did you sleep last night? If I didn't know better, I'd think you were nervous as fuck."
"I love you too," I answered back dryly, trying to see past the glare of the windshield. "And stop swearing. It doesn't suit you."
India laughed and opened the passenger side door. A fringed leather boot appeared on the ground. Then the other. My heart skipped more than a single beat as the rest of her appeared. Libby stood, with the car door still between us and smiled a smile that left me stunned.
She was small, I saw, as she stepped around to extend her hand to me, but had a presence that occupied all the space around her. I took her hand and felt all the nerve endings in my palm fire in unison.
She was exquisite, with a short cap of dark, glossy curls framing her face and a body with generous curves that made my mouth
go dry. Her clothes hugged her body in a careless, sexy kind of way that made me think she had no idea of their effect. The colors were bold, the style almost vintage. There was something utterly original about her…
But it was those eyes that held me rooted and staring. Green, brilliant, afraid of nothing. I took a step closer without intending it and felt something warm and electric pass through the air between us. Somehow, all at once, she was both everything and nothing of what I'd expected…
As I held her hand in mine and all the appropriate greetings and pleasantries passed from my lips, something was sweeping through me like a fire through a dry forest. I put my hand out, ushering them both ahead of me and into the house as I followed behind. Every carefully made plan, every best intention, every sensible decision in my head had fled. Deep inside, there was a flashing red light, warning me to keep this business as usual. But my body was taking over, and making one single, uncompromising demand that defied caution and contracts and good, plain common sense…
To put my child into its mother the old-fashioned way.
Just like nature intended.
4
Libby
India had told me plenty about her rich, successful brother. But she'd completely failed to mention the fact that he was also drop-the-fuck-dead gorgeous. He was tall and tanned, with deep brown eyes and sandy hair that looked like it was probably in constant disarray. My hand twitched with a sudden urge to smooth it…
I followed India into the… what? Cabin? Rustic lake house? Waterside fucking palace? Really, why hadn't she warned me?
The exterior was traditional split log, as unpretentious as a house on Fontana Lake could be. The inside was exquisitely casual, a study in spacious, yet intimate comfort. Every overstuffed chair, every carpet, every carved fireplace mantle oozed wealth and class. I could feel Jack's gaze behind me and for just a moment, wondered if I was in over my head. Way out of my league…
"Can I get you something? Libby… India?" Jack had stepped behind a small, built-in bar in the corner of the room and was opening the fridge, but his eyes had never left me. I could feel them warming my skin, like sunlight on a hot day.
"Beer… um, no… Water, please?" The words stumbled out awkwardly. It wasn't like me to be off balance. But then, I'd never agreed to let a stranger knock me up for money…
"Well, it's beer for me," India said, pushing her brother out of her way and rummaging behind the bar. She stood smiling, a frosty bottle in her hand. "I love these imported ones." She took a long pull. "You always have a better selection than I do." She dropped a kiss on his cheek and I watched as he smiled at her. It gave me a strange feeling I couldn't quite place, whenever I watched how real families interacted with each other. What would that feel like, I wondered, to have known someone from the very moment you were born? And to have them know you in the very same way… from your very beginning…?
"And I think I'm taking mine for a walk," India added, giving my hand a squeeze before heading for the front door. "You two hardly need me in the way right now." She leaned down and whispered in my ear, "He likes you, I can tell." A moment later, she was gone and Jack and I were alone. He walked over to the sofa opposite mine slowly and sat down.
"Are you comfortable?" he asked, settling in. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"
"No. Thanks. This is great…," I said. I took a sip from the sweaty glass he handed me and put it down on the coffee table. "India's told me a lot about you, of course," I began. "And about the kind of person you're looking for…" He was the kind of guy women would line up for a crack at, but I knew he wasn't looking for a relationship. What he wanted was a professional…
"She's told me a great deal about you, as well," he answered softly. "It takes a lot to impress my sister. She says she can't imagine anyone more perfect for me." His velvety brown eyes blinked. "For this position," he added quickly. "For the surrogacy, that is."
"She and I hit it right off," I said, shifting slightly. "When she brought up the idea that this might be the right solution to both of our problems…" My sentence trailed off as his eyes blazed into mine. They were dark as sin and so warm they made me damp in some very sinful places. What the hell was I thinking? I was here for a job interview. There wasn't any room for the kind of feelings I was having.
"I have questions," he said, in a deep voice that made me think of whispers in the dark. "You must as well." I nodded, unable for a moment to think of a single one. "We could go out on the deck, if you like. Get to know each other… go over the contract." The word contract snapped my ovaries back to reality and I nodded, following him outside.
The sun was starting to set and long, wavy stripes of color moved slowly from the water just beyond us all the way to the horizon. "It's beautiful," I said, without thinking. "This is where you actually live, like, all the time?"
"This is home," he said easily. "Would you like to go down?"
The blush had just started to heat my cheeks when I realized he'd gestured to the stairs leading to his own private beach. I nodded and followed him, aware of how tall and lean he was. He had the body of an athlete, even though I knew he was the CEO of Mason Steel Corporation. He was the man in charge, although his entire family was heavily involved as well. India too.
He ran a hand through his hair and his broad chest expanded with his deep breath. I felt that warm, unsettling sensation low in my belly again and looked away. The next thing I knew, his hand was at the small of my back, just above the curve of my overly generous ass and I inhaled sharply. Yeah, I'm sort of in hormonal overdrive these days. Hesitancy to get too close to people also has the unfortunate consequence of very little sex. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen, let alone been so close to such an attractive man.
"We can sit in the gazebo, if you'd like," he gestured. "Or on the sand, if you prefer."
I walked to the edge of the water and kicked off my boots. "Here," I answered with a sigh, the cold water lapping my toes. "This is perfect."
He walked up behind me and I could feel the warmth coming off him. "You go first," I said. "You can ask me anything you want. Nothing's off limits. I get it, that this won't work if I'm not an open book." I turned to look up… way up, into his eyes. "I know this is business for you. And India's told me how important it is for you to have a child. I can see for myself the kind of life you can offer." I didn't blink, or look away as those sexy eyes burned into mine. "So ask away, Jack. I'll answer you as honestly as I know how." He looked into my face for a long, long time without speaking. Instinct told me that somehow he'd already made his decision. I'd already made mine, even before I'd met him.
My choice was easy. It was this, or face an uncertain future, going from one acquaintance's house to another, my artistic career permanently on hold. Or have the baby my body was screaming to have anyway, and give it to a good man who desperately wanted to be a dad. And who came from a fine family and had money in truckloads. Just because I never wanted to be anyone's mom didn't mean I didn't want to experience the creation of another human being. I did. I just wasn't convinced I could ever be the kind of mother a baby deserved…
Jack put his hand under my chin, lifting it, tilting my face. The warmth of his hand, and the clean, woodsy male scent of him had my whole body tingling. He was quiet, thoughtful. Examining me in a way that made me both uncomfortable and aroused all at once. He exuded a sense of power, and yet he had a quiet gentleness about him at the same time… He was like no man I'd ever met before…
"Can you share the most intimate experience a man and a woman can share, Libby?"
The words made my breath catch.
"Can you let me put my seed inside you, let my child grow in your belly?" He let his hand fall from my chin and it nearly, very nearly grazed my stomach. "Can you live here… with me, for the next year… with your belly swelling? Will you let me watch you bring my child into the world and hear him cry for the very first time? Let me put my child to your breast for the first time…?"
I felt my mouth soften, my lips fall open. His words painted the picture in my head as he spoke. A tiny baby, wrinkled and red. His huge hands bringing her closer to my bare, aching breast. For just a moment, I felt a flicker… a question deep inside me I couldn't answer.
"Can you do all that for me, Libby?
And then walk away?"
5
Jack
Three weeks later
I'd put the final touches on the studio myself. I stepped back, pleased with the results. I'd had the guest house gutted and remodeled into an artist's studio, with enormous windows to capture the light, work tables and shelving for supplies. But I'd done the stocking myself. It had taken some work to be sure I'd bought everything Libby could need. And to be sure all the products were safe and non-toxic. I took one last look around and carefully locked the door behind me. I pocketed the key, anticipating the look on her lovely face when I surprised her.
We'd both signed the contract a week after our first meeting here at the lake. Since then, life had been a hectic schedule of business meetings and doctor appointments. Being constantly busy with all the practical details of our arrangement had thankfully gone a long way toward clearing my head about Libby.
She was just the right woman for the job, and that was all. The physical reaction I'd had to her when we'd first met had just been the result of the long stretch of celibacy I'd endured over the last year. That, and general excitement that I was finally on my way to becoming a dad. I was back in control, back in business, so to speak. And thank god for my brothers stepping up. Even Mom and Dad had worked overtime at Mason to keep the company on track. And India, as always, had been amazing.
The Baby Contract Page 2