AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Like you’re picking out a livestock animal?” she offers with her brows arched.
My eyes widen at how she basically repeated my earlier thoughts. “Bingo.”
“I get it,” she says with a shrug. “I’ve researched a lot about surrogacy stuff on the lesbian blogs, so I know how hard it is to find someone you can trust with something so important.”
Judy returns and sets a fresh couple of beers in front of us, lingering a bit longer than necessary as we both take a fortifying sip. I drink my beer slowly and ponder Trista’s lesbian comment. I shouldn’t give a fuck what her sexuality is because this isn’t a date, and I’m not going to sleep with this woman. But I just…I don’t know…something about that realization feels disappointing.
I swallow the knot in my throat before asking the most embarrassingly obvious question on the planet. “So have you and your girlfriend or…wife…done surrogacy stuff before?”
Confusion twists her features. “Oh, I’m not gay. I just realized through my research that the lesbians know their shit when it comes to getting knocked up by a man’s sperm without having to do the actual deed.”
“Oh.” I lower my eyes so she can’t see the relief painted over my stupid face.Man the fuck up, Wyatt.
She misinterprets my discomfort and reaches out to touch myarm. “If it’s any consolation, I think the fact that it’s been so hard for you to find a match means you’re taking this very seriously, and that’s a good thing.”
I glance down at her hand on me as an odd prickling sensation rolls through my veins that I haven’t felt in a long time. Not many people touch me. I mean…don’t get me wrong, I’m obviously not unfamiliar with women. I’m a single man, after all, and the bearded-mountain-man vibe seems to work out well for me. But in professional settings like this, I’m used to people being too intimidated to ever feel comfortable enough to embrace me in a casual manner. My gut is telling me this is a good fucking thing. A thing I should not shy away from.
“Well, what else do you need to know about me?” she asks, taking a sip of her beer. “I assume you need to know stuff you can’t discover in a background check or résumé. Where do I start? I’m twenty-eight years old and a Scorpio, so I’m a little crazy and intense…but also fiercely loyal. I have a full-time job at a dog rescue facility. I never went to college because I could never figure out the whole student loan thing. And I also think college is a waste of money. But I’m not dumb. I am a great researcher. Anything I’m ever curious about, I go to the library and read all the books and obsess over the topic until I’m an expert. Last year, I learned a freakish amount of information on the Amish that sent me down a rabbit hole of reading Amish romances for a solid year. I love the outdoors and think air-conditioning is making us all weak. I have one sister who lives in Hawaii. I am a meat eater—”
I hold up a hand to pause her, shifting myself forward to prop my elbows on the table and eye the woman who might possibly make me a dad.
Dad.
It suddenly doesn’t feel as scary to say to myself as it did yesterday.
“There’s one big question I would love to ask.” My voice is calm, but my eyes are probing, noting every single feature on her face as I mentally catalog the distinct beauty marks that decorate her pale skin. “Why do you want to do this? The no-bullshit answer.”
She seems disarmed by my directness but also invigorated by it. Her coppery-green eyes glitter with challenge as she pulls herthick lower lip between her teeth. “You good with a truth bomb, Mr. Mountain Man?”
I inhale through my nose and ignore the nickname she’s just given me. “Bombs away.”
She exhales heavily and says without a second’s pause, “I want to open a wildlife rescue facility. Not for dogs and cats but for all sorts of animals. Farm animals, injured birds, squirrels…all of it. I’ve seen countless animals turned away from my shelter because they’re not equipped to handle other types of species, and it’s something I’m passionate about. I don’t come from money, and I know I need a fair amount of startup funds to open a facility. Surrogacy ads started popping up on Facebook after I started googling how to work two jobs at once, and before I knew it, I was begging the surrogacy agency in Denver to give me a chance even though I’m technically too fat by their prehistoric standards and have no birth history yet.”
I sit back, noting her flushed cheeks and wild eyes. She’s hard to look away from as she reveals her inner truths to me. And the craziest part is she’s not done.
“I know I don’t have experience being pregnant, but I think I’d be good at this because I’ve tracked my cycles and know exactly when I ovulate. And I’m not a baby person…never have been. Babies kind of freak me out. Every time someone says, ‘Look at the cute baby,’ I always think the baby’s face looks weird and squished up. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not against the creation of life. I just don’t want the responsibility of raising said life. Fur babies are my life’s passion. Or snakes…which…as you know, have no fur. Give me a baby doe or a guinea pig and I’m mother of the friggin’ year.”
Trista smiles sweetly and goes for broke. “Also, I have a foster puppy in my tote bag that I’m pretty sure peed in there because the side of my shirt is soaking wet.”
MonthsoffBirthControl:4
You blew it, Trista. You were sitting across from a ridiculously hot mountain man who wants to pay someone to grow his baby that you wouldn’t have to take care of, and you just told him you’re covered in dog piss. Prepare to be fired.
I’ve been let go from my fair share of jobs on account of being Latey McLateface. Seriously, if I could teleport, I’d probably still be late for everything. But I’ve never been fired before even getting the job. I’m usually quite the charmer! It’s easy for me to connect with people. But this time, I may have just topped my pathetic self.
“The puppy piss comment was too much, wasn’t it?” I state, choosing to be candid rather than walk out of this place, wondering if he’ll call.
“No,” he answers, and a tiny glimpse of a smile toys with his lips. He doesn’t look like a guy who smiles much, so maybe this is a good sign. “But I’d honestly prefer it if you took it out of the tote. Dogs are welcome here, and I don’t like the idea of that little guy sitting in its own piss.”
I exhale a sigh of relief and quickly grab the little black mixed Lab the shelter guessed to be about four months old. She shakes in my hands and desperately starts licking my face as I hold her to my chest.
“This is Queenie,” I say, introducing her to the man who may, infact, be impregnating me very soon. “She was dropped off at the rescue center an hour ago. I’m sure she’ll get adopted in a few days—puppies usually go pretty quick—but she hated the kennel, and I didn’t want to leave her there overnight.”
“I see,” Wyatt replies dismissively, making no move to pet the adorable creature in my hand.
“Not an animal guy?” I ask, watching his body language carefully.
He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head, and this is the first red flag he’s thrown me so far. I thought he seemed normal and levelheaded. His niece really sold me on this whole “happy family” situation. But I can’t understand humans who don’t love animals. Maybe this surrogacy gig won’t work out after all.
