AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I watch the dots bounce on my phone as I impatiently await the reply. Avery was the first person I texted after the pregnancy test came back positive. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t seeing two lines by mistake, which prompted me to go to the store and get one of those foolproof tests that say the actual words: Pregnant or Not Pregnant. They are way more expensive, but the stakes are high. I needed more proof that the Tylenol syringe actually freaking worked.
Although I have been doing my fair share of fantasizing about doing the deed the old-fashioned way. I kind of blurted out that idea in the barn and was pleasantly surprised when Wyatt seemed down for it. In fact, I think I even felt a tiny pang of disappointment when the test turned positive because now I have no excuse to see the mountain man naked.
What a missed opportunity.
But obviously, that’s for the best. Sex with him would be so messy. And stupid. And just…a bad, bad idea. I don’t know what came over me that day, but I do know that neither of us has ever spoken of it since.Thank God.
I’m blaming that suggestion on pregnancy hormones. Hormones are my get-out-of-jail-free card, and I will use them as an excuse liberally for the next nine months.
Avery: I would guess it’s normal, but I’m an animal doctor, not a human one. You should ask your own doctor. When do you get your first scan done?
Me: In a couple of weeks.
Avery: Did they confirm the pregnancy with blood work?
Me: Yes
Avery: Then I’m sure it’s just hormonal fluctuations. But if you’re worried, don’t be afraid to call your doctor. Or do something crazy like read a baby book.
My nose wrinkles at that. I tried to read a baby book at the librarythe other day, and it made me feel weird. It was clearly written for a woman who’s keeping her baby and embracing the life growing inside her, and that is not the headspace I want to entertain.
I want to stay as detached as possible. What’s happening inside me is science, and that’s how I will continue to look at it for the next nine months.I’m an inseminated cow.
Although I will admit, getting picked up and spun around in the pasture by Wyatt was a bit of a butterfly-inducing moment. Mostly because I was shocked he could lift me without causing himself physical harm. But also because he seems so certain about all this. There is no doubt in his mind that he wants this baby all on his own. Which I guess is good because it’s too late to turn back now.
I grab my phone to reply to Avery.
Me: The baby books all suck. They’re all written for mothers planning to keep their kids.
Avery: Maybe you should join a surrogacy support group?
Me: Do those exist?
Avery: If not in person, then surely they do online.
I consider that idea. It’d be nice to have someone to talk to about this pregnancy stuff, but the thought of opening up to a bunch of strangers sounds awful. And unfortunately, I don’t have any close friends who I’d feel cool with talking about this crazy surrogacy journey I’m on. I pretty much grew apart from my old high school friends once they all went off to college, and other than meeting up for an odd drink to catch up here and there, we don’t really keep in touch.
Plus, I work too damn much to find a local support group. The only reason my friendship with Avery even exists is because of the work we do together.
I just need to get through this first ultrasound and confirm this baby actually exists before I go spilling my guts to my doctor about how I feel like yakking every time I catch a whiff of something unpleasant. Gotta stay strong.
WeeksPregnant:7
AnimalsonMountain:2
“Fucking fuck,” Wyatt’s deep voice growls softly as he grabs the crook of my arm and yanks me back toward him.
I’m assaulted by his scent as I stumble into his chest, my eyes closing in pain because no man has the right to smell as good as he does. I always thought the soaps labeled “mountain rain” were complete bullshit. How could any lab ever fully capture the aroma of mountain rain? And now that I’ve lived on a mountain for over a month, I’m convinced they are bullshit. Because no soap can fully capture the natural scent of Wyatt Fletcher. He’s all the things…clean and fresh and rugged and woodsy. Which is why I take far longer than I should to extract myself from his embrace.
I look up, hating how tall he is when we stand face-to-face. As a tall girlie, tall guys are always these elusive creatures. They’re usually only seen on television or coupled up with some tiny five-foot-nothing girl because big guys like tiny girls. That’s just a sad fact of life.
I bet Wyatt likes tiny women—a little slip of a thing that he could completely annihilate in the bedroom.
And why the hell am I thinking about Wyatt Fletcher in the bedroom? That is a thought I have painstakingly tried to avoid sincethat first night in his bed, and re-invoking that image as we walk into the clinic for our first ultrasound appointment is not good. What if there’s something on the machine that can show the tech that I’m horny? Like some sort of dilated ovary or something.
Good God, pregnancy makes me stupid.
Which is why I need to keep reminding myself that Wyatt Fletcher likes tiny girls with tiny asses and tiny vaginas. And I’m here with my plus-sized birthing hips to give him a baby. Nothing more.
