A baby drove them apart.
Can a baby bring them together?
Divorced after a heartbreaking tragedy, Mallory Harris is determined to have a family. Even as a single mother by choice with a baby conceived through artificial insemination. When her ex-husband, Braden, learns of her plan, he offers to be the donor. Mallory is touched...and reluctant. She needs to move on from Braden. But how can she say no to the only man she has ever loved?
“There are never guarantees, Braden. He or she could be hit by a car, or a bolt of lightning. The point is, I’m not going to let the past rob me of my future.”
Which was exactly what Mallory had told Tamara she shouldn’t do.
Exactly when the words had become her mantra, she didn’t know. She just knew that she felt the truth on a soul level.
“But why play with fate when you have a choice?”
Again, she had no ready answer, so she thought about what he was saying instead. She’d asked for his input. Having his support meant more than him just agreeing with everything she said and did.
She valued his opinion. Wanted him to care enough to speak up.
“You need a full family medical history,” he said. “Or as complete of one as you can get.”
“Right, so what do you suggest I do, Bray? Put an ad in the paper for sperm that comes with that?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what?”
It was only when she asked the question that she remembered he’d said he had a solution to her problem. A plan that would tend to his concern.
“You let me be your donor.”
THE DAYCARE CHRONICLES:
Bouncing babies and open hearts
Dear Reader,
I’m so glad you picked up this book. This story... I wish I was you, getting ready to read it for the first time. Not because of the writing, or because of anything I did, but because of the people, and the story they presented to me.
I love them both. Mallory and Braden are strong—strong-willed even—and so determined to make something of their lives that they don’t ever stop trying, working hard, even when they achieve career success. And yet, when it comes to life plans, to love and personal happiness, to what matters most, they give up. For years.
I was all set to help these people get to the other side of grief, not have a child. What Mallory knew all along, and I didn’t see, was that in children we can always find the true source of joy. Children are filled with unconditional hope—we all start our lives with it, it’s there inside us, but sometimes it takes another child to show us it’s there, to show us how to find it again. The plans Mallory and Braden come up with, individually and then together—I didn’t plan any of it. I was just sitting at my desk, thinking I was telling one story, and as the pages flew, these people kept putting things there that were not in my plan. I had no baby plan.
And yet...their plan was much better! So much so that coming in June is a brand-new series set around the clinic Mallory visits in this book! Stay tuned.
I love to connect with my readers. Please find me at www.tarataylorquinn.com, www.Facebook.com/tarataylorquinnauthor, on Twitter, @tarataylorquinn, or join my open Friendship board at www.Pinterest.com/tarataylorquinn/friendship.
Happy reading,
TTQ
The Baby Arrangement
Tara Taylor Quinn
Having written over eighty-five novels, Tara Taylor Quinn is a USA TODAY bestselling author with more than seven million copies sold. She is known for delivering intense, emotional fiction. Tara is a past president of Romance Writers of America and is a seven-time RWA RITA® Award finalist. She has also appeared on TV across the country, including CBS Sunday Morning. She supports the National Domestic Violence Hotline. If you need help, please contact 1-800-799-7233.
Books by Tara Taylor Quinn
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The Daycare Chronicles
Her Lost and Found Baby
An Unexpected Christmas Baby
The Fortunes of Texas
Fortune’s Christmas Baby
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Where Secrets are Safe
A Family for Christmas
Falling for the Brother
Harlequin Heartwarming
Family Secrets
For Love or Money
Her Soldier’s Baby
The Cowboy’s Twins
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For Finley Joseph.
May you always be aware how very much
you were wanted.
You’ve filled holes in many hearts, Little Man.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Excerpt from The SEAL’s Secret Daughter by Christy Jeffries
Chapter One
She didn’t want dinner. She wanted his support of her plan to buy herself some sperm.
Excited in a way she hadn’t been in far too long, Mallory Harris calmed herself as she waited for Braden to join her at the upscale, quiet restaurant he’d chosen for the meeting he’d called. Staring out the wall of windows toward the harbor, watching people walking along the decks of a cruise ship that had docked, she turned her attention to the pink skies beyond, the miraculous beauty of the sun’s final rays gracing the Pacific before it would drop beyond the horizon for another day.
Wishing she’d ordered a glass of wine, she changed her mind and did so. A glass of her favorite California-grown Sauvignon Blanc. Braden would be expecting her to have one and she didn’t want any raised eyebrows until she was ready to deliver her spiel.
A little liquid courage didn’t hurt, either, though she wasn’t normally one to seek sustenance from anyplace except inside herself. And somewhat from Braden. She and her ex-husband might not be simpatico, but she still trusted his judgment on most things. Things that didn’t deal with actual emotions.
He’d had a reason for the upcoming dinner. Though they ate out together on a fairly regular basis, it was never just to eat. There was always something to talk about requiring them to come together.
Speculating about the reason for the meeting was wasted energy, she’d decided long ago. After three years of being post-divorce friends, she and Braden had found a groove with which they were both relatively comfortable. At least she thought so.
One was never quite sure how Braden felt—probably not even him. If ever a man was disconnected from his emotional side, it was Braden.
All water under the bridge. Not her problem anymore.
He was probably going to tell her he was seeing someone. Why he felt the need to confess to her every time he saw a woman more than once was beyond her. They were divorced. Technically, she no longer had a right to know.
Or even a desire to know.
Her wine arrived and she took a sip. Okay, maybe a little piece of her, way deep inside, liked that he told her about his relationships. Like she was in one step deeper than the women he told her about. Shaking her head, she pushed the thought away—as far as she could get it.
Wanting to be inside Braden’s deep places wasn’t healthy. She’d very purposely and specifically chosen, through much personal work and counseling, to get herself outside of him. To stay outside of him. Lest she waste her life in a vortex of void and unfulfilled need. Or feel like she had to hide every time she had a tear to shed. Being ashamed of her grief was something she’d worked long and hard to get past.
Braden had never meant her to feel shame, she knew that. But when someone got uptight every time you cried, or, worse, walked out when you cried, you ended up with learned reactions that weren’t necessarily accurate. Humiliation. Mortification. Guilt. And a host of other words she’d heard bandied about during her group grief sessions.
So yeah, wine was good. If he thought her idea was nuts, she wasn’t going to cry. Or even be embarrassed. She was going to remind herself that they were divorced and that she had every right to pursue single parenthood. That, for some women, it was not only the best choice, but the only real workable choice.
When the waitress came by again, she ordered a beer for Braden. She’d purposely arrived early enough to not risk walking in with him—looking or feeling like a couple. When they were meeting others, it didn’t bother her to travel together, but when it was just the two of them, she had her rules. Her boundaries.
They never spoke of them, but he respected them just the same. She always got there at least fifteen minutes early. He’d arrive exactly five minutes before the designated time.
Unless he texted to say he was going to be late.
Or she did.
They had the friendship down to a science.
Now if only she could be certain that he was going to be friendly about the new direction her life was about to take. With all of the preliminary testing and physical exams done, the paperwork filled out and money paid, all that was left before the actual procedure was letting him know. She could do it without him. Would do it without him.
But life was still better with Braden in it.
* * *
She’d changed after work. It wasn’t a big deal for her to have done so. Her house was only a couple of miles from the daycare—and from the harbor restaurant he’d chosen for dinner. Braden just noticed, as he was walking across the room to meet her, that she looked phenomenal in black leggings and that tight-fitting cream-colored shirt. He’d been expecting jeans and a Bouncing Ball polo shirt. After all, she didn’t know that this meeting was major, as opposed to the more general passing of news for which they normally came together.
She didn’t need to know that the sight of her still turned him on.
Working in the same high-rise executive office building as they did, albeit with his property management and real estate business taking up the top floor and her daycare housed in a double suite on the ground, they could chat there any day they chose. They just, by some unspoken agreement, didn’t choose to.
No point in having people who shared their professional days gossiping any more than necessary about the couple who’d divorced after their five-month-old baby died.
The pity, even after all this time, was hard to take. He had no desire to feed the trough.
He was hungry, though, and ready, as he slid into the booth across from his ex-wife, to order a big juicy steak. She’d have some kind of meal-sized salad.
He’d never been a salad kind of guy.
Taking a long sip of the beer she’d ordered for him, he smiled at her, liking the warm gaze she sent back in his direction. Maybe he was making a mistake, transferring himself a little further out of her life, but he had to do something or they were both going to stagnate and die.
By the end of their smile, the waitress was standing there, tablet in hand ready to take their order. Without looking at the menu, they both told her what they wanted. She thanked them, took their menus, turned around and he all but pushed her away from the table.
He had to get this over with. Plans for his move to L.A. were moving rapidly. He needed Mallory to know.
And to fully understand, from the outset, that he wasn’t selling the building in San Diego or in any way changing their business arrangement. It had been in effect before they were married and would remain for as long as she wanted The Bouncing Ball, her highly successful daycare, to be housed in the executive office building that used to be his only commercial holding but was now one of many.
He raised his beer to her glass of wine and sipped it, words spilling in his head, unable to utter them. Not at all like he’d decided this would go.
He knew he just had to say what he’d come to say. That he was acquiring land north of L.A. to build a professional complex similar to the one they now shared in San Diego, and he would be moving there for the foreseeable future.
“I’m going to have a baby.”
Good thing his beer was close to the table. When it slipped out of his hand, it didn’t break. And barely spilled.
Mouth hanging open, he sat there, too dumbfounded to say anything.
“I just wanted you to know.”
He stared. White noise from the room around them faded.
“I’d kind of hoped you’d be supportive, but if you’d rather not know about it, hear about it, I completely understand.”
He didn’t move.
She did. Standing, she touched his arm. “I’m so sorry, Bray. I had no idea the news would upset you so much. I guess... I mean, in light of the fact that the last time we did it together... I mean...with losing Tucker... I should have been more sensitive. I just... I’m the one who’s been dragging us both down with my inability to move on and I’m really excited about this. I just...couldn’t wait to let you know that I...”
Her fingers on his arm were nice. Familiar. Tender and light.
“Sit.” He got the word out, then followed it with, “Please.”
He took a full breath when she quickly slid back into her seat.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He’d broken an understood rule—one was never to make the other unduly uncomfortable or bring an overabundance of emotion into their joint atmosphere.
He could blame it on her for laying something like that on him, but they were allowed to tell each other anything they wanted to share. That had actually been a spoken agreement. Reiterated more than once, by both of them, in the early days of their post-divorce relationship.
Hell, for all he remembered they’d said it to each other like a vow during the actual divorce proceedings. They’d said several things meant for their ears only when they’d sat before the judge that day, holding hands.
He shook his head and sipped his beer.
“You’re pregnant.” He got the words out and he wasn’t cut as sharply by the sound as he’d expected. Who in the hell had gotten his ex-wife pregnant?
The unwelcome words kept repeating, like an annoyingly bad rhythm, in his mind. He wouldn’t speak them. They weren’t cool.
“Not yet.” From the crease in her brow, the way she leaned toward him slightly, the hint of an upward curve on those beautiful lips, he knew she was placating him. Dammit.
And yet...she wasn’t pregnant?
Holy damn. Relief eased the sweat that had popped up all over his suited body.
“But you’ve met someone.”
The truth still loomed. She was going to have another man’s baby. Start a family separate and apart from him.
The implication he was to draw from that followed almost immediately.
She was moving on.
This was good news.
Very good news.
&nbs
p; Exactly-what-he-wanted news.
But he wasn’t smiling anymore.
Mallory had someone else to watch her back now. She was finally over the past enough to start anew.
He was free.
Chapter Two
Braden was going to give himself a crick in the neck if he didn’t quit the exaggerated nodding.
Prior to that, he’d sipped his beer a couple of times and some expressions had flitted across his face. She wasn’t going to put herself back into near suicidal mode by trying to decipher them. Or make more of the hint of despair than was meant to be there.
Braden didn’t allow himself to acknowledge despair, nor was he all that comfortable around those who did. For all she knew, he honestly didn’t get the feeling. Not like she did.
He’d gotten the love, though, hadn’t he? Back before Tucker died. No one could deny, seeing him with their son, that he’d adored that boy.
Tears stung her eyes while welling emotion clogged her throat. She took a sip of wine, forcing her muscles to relax. She was not going to do this. She would not fall prey to feelings of inadequacy around her ex-husband—which meant she couldn’t cry in front of him.
It had been an unspoken rule between them since they’d decided to stay friends after the divorce.
And the best way to not burst into tears was to think happy thoughts.
He was wearing one of her favorite Braden ensembles. Dark grey suit with just a hint of lighter threading, the striped shirt in grey, black and white with the maroon tie. At six-two, with that lush, thick, dark hair and those baby blue eyes, Braden could easily have been voted sexiest man alive.
“No, I haven’t met someone,” she said after the silence between them had stretched a bit too long. “I’d have told you if I had. You know that.”
There were some things they counted on from each other. Telling him if she was moving on was one of them.
Which was probably why he was always informing her when he was seeing someone. He hadn’t ever seemed to get to the point of seriously moving on, though. He dated, he fizzled, he dated, he fizzled.
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