by K. C. Crowne
“What?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I mean, I have to admit it’d be weird to give birth to a kid and hold him or her afterwards then just hand them off to someone, never to see them again.”
“He didn’t say I’d never be able to see the baby again.”
“Okay, but you wouldn’t be doing ’mom’ stuff, right? And then for the kid…that’d have to be so weird, right? How old would he be when he figured out that he didn’t have a mom? Then he’d ask about it and Dr. Kiwi would tell him, what, that he does have a mom but because she signed a contract she’s not around? It’s kind of strange.”
She was right. I sat back slumped in my seat, as if the pressure of the decision were literally weighing on me.
“OK, that was maybe a little heavy. Kids are resilient, you know? They can deal with stuff, take it in stride. But either way, this is a ton for you to be thinking about tonight. You want my real advice, what you should do is finish this bottle of wine with me, get a good night’s rest, and think about it on a clear head in the morning.”
It was tempting. But not a good idea.
“Nah. I’m already tempting a hangover. Not to mention I don’t want Adam getting worried.”
“He’s fine. He’s almost an adult – if anything, you’re cramping his style.”
“Maybe some other time.”
“Fine, fine,” she said as she reached a lazy hand toward her phone. “Let’s get that Uber on the way.”
She opened her phone and did some swiping, setting it back down on the table when it was done.
“Now, while we wait…” she leaned forward, a gossipy smile on her face. “Let’s hear about Dr. Kiwi.”
I laughed, then went into it. As I told her all about him, I realized that, at least on paper, he was exactly the kind of guy I was looking for. He was handsome, smart, driven, good with kids. What more would I want? It was almost a cosmic joke that he only wanted me for my uterus.
The Uber came and a little after that I was home. I’d have to get up good and early to get my car in the morning, but it beat driving drunk. As I made my way to Adam’s room, I spotted flashing white and blue lights under his door – the telltale sign that he was in the middle of a gaming session. I knocked and opened and sure enough, he was at his computer, back to me, a pair of headphones on.
“Aw, come on!” he said. “You serious? Dude, he was right there. How did you miss that shot?”
Watching Adam have his fun got me thinking about the whole “mom” thing. Sure, I was his sister, but I’d been the mom role in his life for years. And I’d done a pretty darn good job of it.
Maybe the idea of having a kid of my own wasn’t so crazy? Granted, I wouldn’t be raising this hypothetical baby, but still…
I knocked on the door, getting his attention. Adam lifted the headphones off one of his ears and arched his eyebrows.
“Oh, hey!”
“It’s late, bud,” I said. “Let’s wind it down.”
“Sure, sure. Oh, how was your thing?”
Now, how to condense that particular subject for a kid who was more interested in getting back to blowing up aliens?
“We can talk about it over breakfast. But no post-midnight gaming sessions, alright?”
“Alright. Night.”
“Night.”
I closed the door and went to my room. The moment I stepped over the threshold I realized I was freaking beat. The events of the day were like weights strapped to my legs as I made my way to the bed, pulling off my clothes on the way there. I didn’t even have the energy to slip into a sleeping shirt.
Once I was under the covers, the lights off, a smile spread across my face without my intention.
Whatever was going to happen, for the first time in a long while, I was excited.
Chapter 9
RYAN
I awoke that next morning thinking of nothing but Carly. It was amazing that a simple evening with her had been enough to derail my plans, but there it was. And it certainly didn’t help matters that she was about the sexiest damn woman I’d ever set eyes on.
As I laid in bed, tossing the evening around in my thoughts, I kept drifting back to one single thing – how damn good she looked in that dress. Curvy Carly – about as fitting a nickname as I could think of. I imagined turning over in bed, seeing her fire red hair draped over the pillow, the sheets covering the curve of her hip.
I wanted her like mad. Maybe it was the morning hard-on speaking, but I couldn’t think of a single thing I craved more than to have her in bed with me. It’d taken a hell of a lot of restraint to not make a move last night, and it’d take even more in the future if she agreed to this whole thing.
I forced myself to sit up, then grabbed my mobile from the nightstand and checked the screen. It was unlikely that Carly had already thought of what she wanted to do. Maybe I was just eager to talk to her again.
Not like I was going to lounge around in bed waiting for her to call or text. And the more time I spent under the covers, the more likely it was I’d end up passing the time in a different way with Carly on my mind.
So, I got up and threw on my black and green tartan robe and stepped into my leather slippers. The day outside was bright and sunny, though I could tell there was a bitter chill to the air. I loved Denver, loved the mountains and the seasons, but my Kiwi bones were still having a hard time getting used to freezing weather.
Once in the kitchen I made myself the usual breakfast of bacon and eggs, which had been a Yank tradition I’d been more than happy to pick up on. I paired that with a double espresso and sat down at my kitchen bar, watching the slate gray of oncoming clouds slowly move in across the blue sky.
My phone rang a couple bites into the meal, my heart skipping a beat at the idea it being Carly. I quickly scolded myself for getting so excited at the prospect of her calling, then glanced at the screen, which read “Fishstick” – my sister, Rachel. I grinned and brought the phone to my ear.
“What’s up, Fish?” I asked.
“Not much, Shrimp.”
The nicknames were ancient, back from when we were kids. I was a tall bloke – almost six-and-a-half-feet in kooky Yank measurements – but when I was a boy, I’d been slow to grow. So, when I hit ten and the rest of the boys started their growth spurts while I stayed short, Rachel had decided to bestow upon her poor little brother the nickname of “shrimp.”
I got her back good, however. Rachel had hit her growth spurt, meaning she was tall and gangly and all kinds of awkward when compared to the rest of the girls. In fact, she was long and skinny, like a fish stick. We both grew into our bodies over our teen years, but the nicknames stuck.
“You’re up bright and early,” I said, checking the time and seeing that it wasn’t even six in California.
“That’s what happens when you’ve got kids,” she said. “They’re like little alarm clocks who scream instead of beep. Heaps of fun.” Rachel loved her kids like mad, so there was no doubt she was just venting. “And you know what else, I’ve got Aaron here to help out, but it’s still a lot of work – even for two people.”
I laughed, already understanding the purpose of the call.
“Alright,” I said. “Who called you, Mum or Dad?”
She chuckled. “Both, last night after you left.”
“Rachel, if you called to talk me out of parenthood, then I’ll save you the trouble.”
“I’m not talking you out of parenthood, I’m—” in the middle of her words, I heard the familiar noises of Noah and Susie, her two kids and my adored niece and nephew, running by. “Kids! Calm it down! I’m on the phone with your uncle!” A deeper voice said something else that I couldn’t make out. “Oh, Aaron says ‘hi’.”
“Same to him.”
“Here, let me go outside.” I heard a door open and close. “There. But you see what I mean? Aaron’s running around the house like a madman trying to wrangle the little sprogs, and it’s still mad work. And with what you said, I’m n
ot trying to talk you out of parenthood. I wouldn’t dream of doing that. You’d be a killer dad, Ry. But doing it on your own…”
“It’ll be fine. I’ve got a big house and plenty of money to take care of him. Or her.”
“I swear, for someone who graduated the top of your med school class, you can be a real dumbass sometimes.” I laughed, and she followed along with me. “Shrimp, you have to know being a dad is about more than just giving them stuff. It’s about being there.”
“There’s day care…”
“Sure, there’s day care. And that’s a great option for parents who both need to work. But it’s no substitute for actually being there for them. Being a stay-at-home mom has been the best thing in my life, and it’s clear how good it’s been for the kids, too.”
“I know, I know. But that’s a perfect world kind of scenario. I’m single and I’m ready to be a father, which means I’m going to have to explore some alternative arrangements.”
“But you don’t need to do that. I’m sure if you put some time into it, you’d find the perfect woman to be the mum of your kids. Think about it – you’d have someone to love, someone to help with the parenting, and someone to grow old with. Sure sounds heaps better than doing it all by your lonesome.”
“Listen, everything I’ve accomplished I’ve done on my own. Why wouldn’t this be any different?”
She sighed. I knew what that sigh meant – it meant she’d been holding back, and now she was really going to let me have it.
“You want my real opinion, Ryan?” Full name was a bad sign, too. “I think you’re bloody mad.”
“Here we go…”
“Don’t you ‘here we go’ me, baby brother. I’m a parent, and I know what it’s like to raise a kid. You might be a fancy-pants doctor and all that, but when it comes to raising kids, I’ve got you beat on that front. So, tamp down that pride for a moment and listen to me.”
“Rachel-”
“Ryan. Come on.”
Rachel was stubborn like me and trying to talk her down when she was ready to let you have it was a fool’s errand if there ever was one.
“Alright, let’s hear it.”
“Like I said, I’ve got no bloody doubts that you’d be a killer dad. But you’re busy as hell, working full-time and doing your charity work. Adding a kid on top of that just wouldn’t be fair to you or the kid. I mean, think about it selfishly if that works – don’t you want to be there to see the kid grow up?”
“I’ll be here, Rach. And you’re not even taking into consideration that Mum and Dad are here to help out.”
“Grandparents are a big help, but you know you’d be asking more of them than just a little pitching in here and there. They’d be your damn day care while you’re at work half the time. And I’m sure they’d love it, but they’re retired! Don’t you think after raising three bloody kids of their own that they deserve to enjoy their retirement in peace without having to worry about keeping your little one out of trouble?”
She had a point there.
“But don’t grandparents love doting on their grandkids?” I asked.
“Doting is one thing. Raising them because their single parent dad is at work for sixty hours a week is something else.” She sighed again. “There are some amazing single parents out there, but any one of them will tell you it’s so much damn work. Just…I’m your sister, and that means I’m one of the few people out there who’ll give you my honest thoughts. And I think this is a bad idea.”
There was no chance in hell I was going to talk her out of how she felt. And that meant there was no point in keeping the conversation going any further.
“Alright, alright. I’ll give it some thought.”
“Give it more than thought – I want you to come to your senses. Do this the right way, Shrimp.”
As she finished speaking, more commotion sounded out from the kids. We said our goodbyes and I hung up.
But when I slipped my phone back into my pocket, there still wasn’t the slightest bit of hesitation. Rachel had made some good points, sure. But so what if it was hard? Med school was hard; starting off as a doctor was hard; working my ass off to become the best OB/GYN in a different damn country was hard.
And I’d kicked ass at them all. Why would being a single dad be any different?
I was so determined, in fact, that I didn’t want to wait another minute before getting in touch with Carly. I pulled up her number and typed in a text.
Hey! Hope you had a good rest of the night. Not to be a bother, but I’m really excited about this surrogacy thing since talking to you. What do you say to doing brunch tomorrow?
I set down my phone, not expecting a text for a while. To my surprise, the response came right away.
Sure, that sounds good. Where?
I raised my thumbs to start typing but thought better of it. Normally, meeting at a restaurant would be the way to go. But we weren’t meeting just to chat – we were meeting to discuss a life changing decision. We needed privacy and time.
How about my place at ten? It’ll give us time and privacy to chat. And I make a killer eggs benedict.
I think I can swing that. See you then.
I replied with my address, a big smile on my face.
Rachel was right – this would be hard work. But I was never one to back away from a challenge.
The rest of Saturday passed far slower than I would’ve liked. I was so damn excited, so eager to have the conversation with Carly – not to mention see her again – that I found myself pacing around the house. I put a stop to that right quick, however, deciding to go for a nice, long afternoon hike that got me good and tired, and ready to spend the rest of the evening relaxing after a trip to the store to get the necessaries for our brunch.
I got up that next morning bright and early, ready to have everything perfect for the meeting. Or was it a date? Hard to say – the situation with Carly was far from conventional.
Either way, I was ready and downright chipper as I set everything out for brunch. Not only was eggs benedict one of my specialties, I could do a damn fine spinach and feta quiche, too. In addition, I’d picked up some fruits and juices – everything I’d need for some far-out mimosas.
Once it was all ready to go, I started the work, putting on some Smith’s in the background. After some time, the hollandaise was ready, the quiche out of the oven, and a big pitcher of mimosas ready to be served. Along with the main courses, I had some diced potatoes and fruit salad for sides. I was hungry as hell, and ready for the conversation ahead.
When the text finally came letting me know she was just about there, I turned down the music, set all the dishes out, and hurried to the front door in time to greet her. Carly pulled in front of the house; her beat-up car just as sad looking in the cold light of day. Just like on our first night together, I hated seeing her driving that thing.
She stepped out and even in her olive-green, puffy parka, she looked amazing. But Carly’s eyes didn’t go to me first – they went to my house.
“Wow. This is where you live?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at her words. “Good to see you, too.”
She shook her head, as if coming to her senses. “Sorry,” she said as she approached. “Just that this place is huge.”
I stepped aside so she could come in. “You’re telling me. Believe me, I was just as happy in my pad downtown. The whole point of this place was to have room for a family. Now that it’s just me…yeah, I guess it does seem a little comically large.”
She chuckled as she unzipped her jacket. Underneath, she wore a dark green sweater of thick wool, along with tight black jeans that clung to her curves. Black boots finished the look. The whole package was so damn sexy that it took some major restraint to focus my attention on her eyes.
She turned her attention to me. “It’s good to see you.”
For a moment, I was gripped by the urge to plant a kiss on her lips. It would’ve been totally inappropriate, especially for
the conversation we were about to have. But damned if I wasn’t totally struck by how attracted to her I was.
“Yeah, you too. Thanks for coming on such short notice. I’m sure you would’ve liked a little more time to think all this over.” I took hold of her coat and helped her out of it, my eyes flicking down to her perfect ass in those jeans, my cock shifting at the sight of it. Curvy Carly – a more perfect nickname I couldn’t have imagined.
Once her coat was hung up, Carly closed her eyes and sniffed the air.
“Damn, that smells good.”
I gestured toward the hall leading to the kitchen.
“Glad to hear it,” I said. “Because I went a little mad with the cooking. Probably made enough for the entire block.”
“Well, I skipped breakfast, so I just might eat you out of house and home if you’re not careful.”
We entered the kitchen, and through the tall windows on the south side of the house I saw that the grey clouds had completely covered the sky. As far as I could tell, it looked like snow was in the forecast.
“Shoot,” she said. “My car handles like crap in bad weather if it starts coming down out there.”
“We’ll get you home one way or another – no need to worry about any of that.”
The subject of snow seemed to vanish as soon as she laid eyes on the spread.
“Holy crap,” she said, her eyes moving along the kitchen bar where I’d laid it all out. “You made all of this?”
“Told you I went a little mad,” I said with a sly smile. “Plates are over there – we’ve got our work cut out for us.”
Carly didn’t waste any time taking a plate and loading up. “I love brunch,” she said as she slipped the pie scoop into the quiche and took two slices. “But it’s…you know, a little overpriced.” She pursed her lips as soon as she spoke, as if realizing she’d accidentally broached a topic she didn’t want to discuss.
“Well, pleased to treat you,” I said with a smile, helping her move away from the subject of money.