The Baby Plan

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The Baby Plan Page 3

by Tia Siren


  “I’m good. This is unexpected. Are you still in San Francisco?”

  “I am. I have a medical practice—infertility clinic in Mission Bay,” I explained, waiting to see if he would mention Lara and her current situation.

  “Good to hear. I’ve been doing the sports for a while now,” he said.

  I laughed. “Yes, I’ve seen your face—a lot. I’m glad to see you’ve been so successful. You married? Kids?”

  “Hell no. You?”

  “Nope. Haven’t found the lady for me yet. Is your family still in the area?” I prodded, hoping he would bring up Lara.

  “Mom and Dad passed away some years back. Mom had cancer, and Dad died in a bike wreck.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear about your folks,” I said, following proper etiquette.

  “Thanks,” Brian said. “Lara is still around the area. Actually, she lives in Mission Bay.”

  I perked up at that tidbit of information. “Really? Is she married with a million kids?”

  “Oh man. That is a long story,” he said.

  “Oh no. That bad?”

  “Worse. She was married. Guy made a ton of money with her by his side, but once he got rich, he turned into a cheating piece of shit. She’s had a tough time. Real tough. If I ever see the guy, I’d like to let him know exactly how I feel about guys like him.”

  “That’s a tough deal. How’s she handling it?”

  He let out a long sigh. “I don’t know. I guess she’s getting through it. She deserves far better than that piece of shit. She’s young, pretty, and I’m sure she can find someone who will treat her right.”

  “I’m sure she will.”

  “Well, I have to run, but I’d love to catch up some more. Can we meet for drinks?”

  “Sure. That’d be great. You have my number. Text me or call me when you’re free. I’m usually off weekends,” I told him, thankful he hadn’t asked how I’d gotten his number in the first place.

  “It was great to hear from you! Talk soon,” he said and ended the call.

  I held the phone in my hand and felt a little guilty for prying into Lara’s personal life, but seeing her had made me curious. I had been unable to think of anything but Lara since I’d first laid eyes on her.

  I paced my living room. It was a large, prestigious living room, befitting for a man of my wealth. I hated it. It was empty and cold. There weren’t any woman’s touches around the place. It was exactly as the interior decorator had designed it. It was supposed to be masculine and comfortable, and I guessed it was, but it was dull.

  Talking to Brian had stirred up even more memories. Those memories were far less pleasant than the memories I had of Lara. Brian had found out about Lara and me and had freaked the fuck out. More than I’d expected him too. He had made me vow to never see her again. He couldn’t possibly know how far our relationship had advanced or the promises I had made.

  I’d had to break all those promises to maintain my friendship with Brian. I’d chosen Brian like an idiot. I had loved Lara, but Brian had convinced me I wasn’t good enough for his little sister. He’d insinuated I was a predator. That was not the kind of reputation I wanted to follow me to medical school, especially considering my chosen field.

  I’d let Brian convince me my feelings for Lara were childish and immature. The threat of severe bodily harm had helped persuade me. Brian was not a small guy. I wasn’t exactly a shrimp, but he was built like a linebacker. I was built like a quarterback. We were about the same height, but he was all muscle. He was the football player; I was the baseball player. I could admit the guy could have whooped my ass back then. Judging by what I had seen on television, he probably still could.

  My phone rang, interrupting my musings of who would win in a fight between us.

  I looked at the caller ID and debated answering the call. I should. It would be a very useful, needed distraction.

  “Sally,” I said in a smooth voice.

  “Hey, handsome. What are you doing tonight?” she asked.

  “I don’t know yet. What are you doing?”

  “You, I hope.”

  Just like that. It was like ice-cold water had been dumped over my head.

  “I think I may need some convincing. I’m awful tired,” I countered, hoping she could convince me to fuck her until I forgot all about Lara.

  “Oh, you’re sleepy,” she said in a baby voice. “I think I can help you wake up.”

  “I’m waiting,” I prompted.

  “Are you sitting down?” she said in a low, husky voice.

  “I am now,” I said, taking a seat in one of the overstuffed leather chairs in the room.

  “Unzip your pants.”

  I debated doing it, but the thought of Lara lingered in the back of my mind.

  “Done.”

  “I’m wearing that black leather thong you love so much, the one with the strings holding it together. That’s all I’m wearing. I’m lying on my bed, my legs are spread wide, and my free hand is holding my breast. You know how big my tits are, Mason. I can barely contain my left breast in my hand. It’s spilling out. I’m grabbing my nipple and squeezing. Oh! It’s making me wet. Mason, I need to be fucked hard. Will you fuck me?”

  I reached down and rubbed my flaccid penis. She wasn’t doing it for me. “Keep going,” I muttered, hoping she could convince me to take her to bed. I needed to get Lara out of my system.

  “I want to suck your dick. If I were there, I would be on my knees in front of you, slowly licking and sucking your big cock. Do you want me to suck you, Mason?” she purred in a voice meant to arouse me. “Reach down and grab your dick. Squeeze it. Pretend it’s my mouth on you.”

  I reached down, grabbed my limp dick, and rubbed, trying to make it hard.

  “Mason,” she said in a soft whisper. “I have a finger inside me. I’m so wet. I want your dick deep, deep in me. I’m sliding in another finger.” She moaned, and I felt a slight stirring.

  “Keep going,” I grunted out as I furiously rubbed my dick, trying to get hard.

  “My fingers are playing with my clit. I need more, Mason! I need your dick. I’m pushing in another finger. Oh, it’s stretching my pussy. Mason, are you ready? I’m going to come, Mason.”

  There was a series of moans and heavy breathing as she rubbed out an orgasm. It should have made me hard, but I was still soft in my own hand.

  She wasn’t doing it. I wasn’t interested. Sally was a sexy, beautiful woman who could make the women in Playboy look average, but my body wasn’t responding.

  “Sally, I appreciate all your effort, but I have to pass tonight. I’m beat and I have a full day tomorrow,” I said, trying to be nice, but deep down, I didn’t give a shit.

  “Mason!” she said angrily. “You dick. Whatever. You’re not the only cock in town. Don’t call me when you want a piece of ass. I might be busy.”

  “No, you won’t,” I said, knowing full well it was my cock she wanted.

  “Whatever,” she repeated like a petulant child. “I’ll call Dan. He’s always up for a good fuck, and hell, his dick is bigger.”

  I laughed at her childish antics. As if I cared who had a bigger dick. I was long past those days.

  “Bye, Sally. Talk to you soon,” I said, needling her a little more.

  She wanted my cock and my bank account. The woman was essentially a whore looking for the wealthiest, most attractive man she could find. She wanted a sugar daddy. Usually, I didn’t care. Being one of San Francisco’s most eligible bachelors had its perks, but I wasn’t interested in meaningless sex at the moment. I wanted one woman, the same woman who had held my attention and heart all these years: Lara.

  Sally would be back. I liked her well enough, but I wasn’t in the mood tonight. If I couldn’t have Lara, Sally would serve as a consolation prize sometime later.

  God. Lara had ruined me. Would I ever be able to get hard again without thinking of her? How in the hell had I gotten back here? I was lusting after a woman who probably s
till hated me, sacrificing my sex life at the same time. I was headed down a cold, dark road of celibacy, and that scared the hell out of me. I liked sex. I enjoyed hot, dirty sex, and I couldn’t possibly get through life without it. I didn’t want to.

  I wanted lots of sex with Lara. I closed my eyes and imagined Lara’s body under mine. Her long hair fanned around her as I pounded into her. I wanted to hear her moans of pleasure. Now I was hard, hard and wanting. Maybe I should call Sally back. No. I needed to wait and see how this all played out with Lara.

  I would see Lara next week. Maybe she’d be a little more relaxed and we could chat. I could ask her out for coffee, keep it casual and see if she was interested in having anything to do with me. I had to start somewhere.

  My mind drifted. The miscarriage had driven her into my office. I remembered her talking about children when we were young. I was surprised she didn’t already have kids. Clearly, that asshole she had married didn’t want them. It took a desperate woman to show up in my office. Lara was desperate for a child. That made me a little sad and a lot angry. How dare she be forced to take such drastic measures. I would have gladly given her all the children she could handle and loved every second of making those children.

  Chapter 5

  Lara

  So much color! I loved it! Everywhere I looked there was color. I couldn’t wait to get to the boutique and show Kali pictures. I had spent every waking moment painting my condo. If I wasn’t at work, I was home painting and infusing life into the place.

  I bounced into the shop. I was smiling and felt as if I were an entirely different person than the woman I had been even a week ago. My life had fallen apart and I had tumbled into a pit of despair, but I was out. I had fought and clawed my way to the top of the pit, and now I was standing in the sunshine!

  “Hey! You look happy,” Kali commented. “Did you get more painting done?”

  I excitedly nodded my head. “I did!”

  “Let me see!”

  I pulled my iPad out of my bag and put it on the counter. I brought up the first picture of the living room.

  “Oh my god! It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed.

  “Thank you.”

  “I have to admit, I was worried when you told me you were going with gold in the living room.”

  I laughed. “You should have seen the guy at the paint store. He thought I had lost my mind. I love how warm it makes the room feel. Warm and sunny.”

  She nodded. “It does. It’s a pretty pale gold.”

  “Kitchen,” I said, swiping the screen. “I went with a dark coffee color to tone down all that stainless steel and the gray countertops.”

  Kali was nodding her head. “It is stunning. It looks like a completely different home. I can’t believe the difference a coat of paint made.”

  “Wait until you see my bathroom.”

  When I swiped the screen, her mouth fell open. “Wow. Now that is bold.”

  I laughed. “It is. I love it. The sapphire color matches the new bedding I bought. It kind of ties it all together. I’m going to leave the gray carpet. I haven’t quite decided if I’m going to leave my bedroom walls the pale gray or not. For now, I like it.”

  Kali shook her head in awe. “I can’t believe you’ve done all of this in the past few days. That is a lot of work!”

  “I needed it. It was cathartic. I have this whole new attitude. I feel good.”

  She laughed. “Our relief should be here shortly, and then we are going to bring some of that color that’s in your condo into your wardrobe. I cannot wait to get some color on you!”

  “Me too. When I look in my closet, it is all monochrome: black, white, gray. For excitement, there is beige. My god, if I ever wear beige again, shoot me.”

  She hugged me. “We are going to get you all fixed up.”

  I put the iPad away and looked at her. “Thank you. You are a great friend. I want to apologize for the other day after my appointment.”

  “No. Don’t you dare. It was about time you showed me you were actually human. You’ve been marching on a like a good little soldier for too long. You deserved a breakdown,” she said softly.

  “Thanks. I boxed up my clothes and had one of the ladies from the charity place pick them up this morning.”

  “Whew! With the way you had them piled all over the place when I came over, I was concerned you were going to torch them.”

  I shook my head and buried my face in my hands. “I cannot believe I did that. I blame the paint fumes.”

  She giggled. “There were definitely a lot of paint fumes in that place.”

  “One minute I was looking for a shirt to throw on and the next I was ripping clothes off hangers and dumping out drawers. Everything looked so—I don’t know, dull! It was like a picture of the last twenty years of my life: black and white with very few splashes of color. My closet was my life. I want to forget any of it happened. I want my new closet to be filled with lots of color and excitement.”

  “It will. But we don’t want to get too carried away. You need to make room for the maternity clothes you’ll be buying soon.” She winked.

  “I want jeans and sweats and clothes that say, ‘I’m a new mom and I didn’t have time to shower.’”

  She laughed. “Only you would actually want that look.”

  “Do you know I have no sweats or pants with elastic waists? Mitchel forbade the casual look. It was either we were always dressed for the country club or naked. There were no in between, Sunday-afternoon lounge clothes allowed. I want worn jeans and T-shirts with casual shoes—although I am not about to clean out my shoes. Those stay.”

  Kali hugged me again. “I know, dear. We will. We’ll hit the mall. Macy’s, Nordstrom, and hell, maybe even Sears. We’ll find you casual and comfortable.”

  “Should I cut my hair? Dye it blond?” I asked, suddenly feeling like I needed a complete makeover.

  “No. Absolutely not. You can later if you want, but let’s take this one step at a time. I understand the need to change things, and that’s great, but we don’t want to do too much too soon and have you regret it. A shorter hairstyle might work well after the baby, though. Don’t rush into anything,” she said in a serious tone. “This is all a big change.”

  “You’re right. I like my hair the way it is.”

  The door chimed and our relief cashiers came in.

  “Hi, ladies,” I said to them. “Thank you for coming in today.”

  Once we got everything settled, Kali and I headed out the door and up the street to do some shopping. I couldn’t wait to replace my ho-hum wardrobe with one that popped and showed how happy I was to be alive.

  We stopped at the first store and started grabbing various tops and colorful, flowing skirts. With my arms loaded, I headed into the dressing room. Once I had on the first outfit, I took one look in the mirror and started laughing.

  “Let me see!” Kali shouted.

  I opened the door and walked out in the black skirt and bedazzled shirt she had picked out.

  “Oh my.”

  I burst out laughing again. “I think there is a rule about wearing sequins beyond the age of ten.”

  She nodded her head. “Most definitely. That is a no. I do like the skirt, though.”

  I tried on a variety of outfits and ended up walking out of the store with two large bags. We headed down the street to the next shop, and it was the same process all over again.

  “Can I wear pink?” I asked, coming out of the dressing room wearing a loud pink top with swirls of blue. It looked very retro, but I knew it was all back in style.

  “Yes!” Kali said, clapping her hands together. “I love that top. You look gorgeous. Pink definitely looks good on you. That top and a black pair of leggings with black boots would be great. Black is sexy, and when you wear it right, it looks fabulous on you. I love that you don’t look like an FBI agent anymore. I think our customers will be far more relaxed as well,” she teased.

  Once out of the dressing ro
om, I looked over the bags of clothing I had just purchased. “Now I need jeans,” I said. “I want jeans that make me look young and fun.”

  “You are young and fun,” Kali reminded me.

  “You’re right. I am now. I want to be that fun mom who can play on the toys at the playground. If I’m wearing high heels and slacks, that isn’t going to happen. Let’s go,” I said, carefully balancing the bags on my arms while fishing out my keys.

  “I’ll be right out,” she called. “I can’t resist this top. I tried, but I have to get it.”

  “Okay. I’ll be in the car,” I told her, managing to push open the door with my foot.

  I knew where I had parked and was blindly headed that way while looking down at the bags I was shuffling around to try and get a better grip. I hit something hard, dropping one of the bags I had been barely holding onto. I could see feet pointing at me and knew I had just run into a man. I felt like an idiot.

  I looked up to apologize, but the words became lost.

  “You!” I blurted out at the same time he did.

  I was staring into the face of Mason Chambers, again. I had gone twenty years without seeing him, and now it was like he was everywhere. Damn that bitch, Fate. She really had it out for me.

  “I’m sorry,” we said at the same time.

  I waited to see if he was going to say anything else before I opened my mouth to talk again. “I’m sorry. I was looking at my feet and not paying attention.”

  “It’s okay. Here, let me help you with that,” he said, picking up the bag I had dropped in the collision.

  “Thank you. I may have overestimated my ability to juggle,” I joked.

  I peered up at those piercing green eyes framed by dark eyelashes. His brown hair was graying, giving him a mature, distinguished look. It wasn’t fair that men became more attractive as they aged. He was thin and lanky like I remembered. His jaw was a little more defined and his eyes had some wrinkles around the corners, but he was still handsome as hell.

  “It’s fine. Where are you parked?” he asked, his voice husky.

  “Here,” I said, aiming my key fob at my Mercedes.

  The trunk popped open, and he put the bag inside before reaching and taking the other bags from my hands.

 

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