The Baby Arrangement. Tara Taylor Quinn

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       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 СКАЧАТЬ