The Cowboy's Baby: A BWWM Billionaire Cowboy Pregnancy Romance

by Cristina Grenier

  He watched her go, trying to pull in a steady breath and failing. As Alyssa slid into her car before shutting the door soundly and burning rubber, he felt as if the entire world were crumbling down on him.

  Alyssa didn’t want to have a baby with him. She never had.

  And now she was gone, to who knows where for God knew how long.

  In a daze, the rancher sauntered back to his chair to drop into it, taking up his beer once more. He took a swig, the liquid bland in his mouth. What the hell was he going to do now? He was alone in his immense ranch house, now facing the possibility of a child without a mother to raise it. Drawing a hand over his face, he sighed, his chest aching with hollow emptiness.

  Fucking Christ.

  How was he going to tell Esme?

  ***

  Chapter Three: Filling the Gaps

  Christ, it had been a long day.

  As she strode out to her car, rubbing her lower back, her breath hissed out between her teeth. She’d been working at Enid’s newest Brazilian steak house for the past three weeks and it wasn’t getting any easier. There was very little room for creative work, of course, and she didn’t try to push such things; but even fitting into the new environment was a struggle.

  It took her at least a month to get used to a new restaurant setting – and of course, the head sous chef here was no less odious than the one at her previous place of employment. He liked to take credit for others’ hard work, meaning that her pristine cuts of meat disappeared in the wide valley of his ego. Esme could already sense she wouldn’t be able to stay in this position long. It was mostly prep work – and even that was ruined for her by her domineering supervisor.

  It seemed days now lasted far longer than they used to; and though the young woman tried to tell herself that it was because she was disillusioned with her chosen career, there was at least one other thing that she knew must have a huge part in the way she felt.

  Pregnancy.

  Though Esme thought she’d read a mountain of books and articles to prepare herself for the process the day after she’d been inseminated – which, in and of itself, had been an other-worldly experience – there was nothing she could have done to prepare her for the bevy of changes taking over her body.

  It had only been two weeks since she’d been proclaimed officially pregnant, and already, her everything was out of whack. She went through weird mood swings where one moment she wanted to watch a girlie movie and the next she wanted to destroy something. There were times when she couldn’t even enter the kitchen – much to her horror – because her newly sensitized nose had a line to her very iffy stomach. Her back ached, her breasts were tender, and worst of all, she was ridiculously horny.

  Constantly.

  Of course, if it had been a while since she’d been laid, Esme always got kind of antsy. She tended to be particular about the men she dated, and even more particular when it came to hopping into bed with someone. One night stands weren’t her thing. Her restaurant shifts usually went too late to allow such a thing anyway.

  Even so, she usually found herself woefully disappointed when it came to sex. Perhaps it was just that she waited too long between interludes and found herself painfully unsatisfied when things didn’t meet her expectations, or maybe it was just that her expectations themselves were too high.

  Now, sex was pretty much all she could think about.

  She found herself eying random men on the street as she ran her errands, thoughts passing through her head so in clandestine that she thought it must be ridiculously obvious what she was fantasizing. Still, she hadn’t been caught yet, so she supposed she should be thankful for that. As the young woman slid into her car, taking a seat behind the wheel, she placed a hand over her flat stomach through the chef’s coat she wore.

  It was still hard to believe that she was going to swell up like a balloon. She’d been slender and athletic all her life. Her first nutrition appointment was this Friday, where she was sure she’d be told to give up all the junk food and goodies that she loved in favor of rabbit food. She’d already thrown out all the alcohol in her house, which had been painful enough, but she was pretty sure she was going to fight for her Twinkies.

  The appointment would also mark the first time she would see Daniel Hartsford and his girlfriend since the day the paperwork had been signed. The very thought made the young woman’s stomach clench in a mixture of anticipation and uneasiness. It had been bad enough to see the man before her hormones had gone haywire. His crystal clear blue eyes, devastating good looks and southern drawl had done things to her she couldn’t have imagined, and ultimately, she’d been glad her job interview had saved her from spending another moment in his presence.

  It was clear exactly how Alyssa felt about Esme eying her man – apart from the woman already being a straight up bitch anyway, she was also possessive – and so, of course, Esme had done her utmost to try and stay out of the couple’s affairs – at least, anything that didn’t involve her carrying their child.

  At the doctor’s appointment, however, she’d be faced with their dysfunction again; and more poignantly, she’d be faced with Daniel Hartsford himself. It was already all over the news that the man had decided to have a child via surrogate with his partner of three years, but thankfully, very strict privacy contracts kept her out of the spotlight. It wasn’t however, the threat of exposure that worried Esme the most.

  It was the fear that her bat-shit insane pregnancy body wouldn’t be able to keep from jumping his bones on sight – right in front of his girlfriend. Could she help it if the man was a long, tall drink of Texan sunshine? He practically oozed allure – from the Stetson cocked at an angle on his head to the stubble she ached to feel against the more tender parts of her body…

  What the hell was wrong with her?

  The man was in a happy relationship – well, a relationship, at least – and she was just the surrogate! Was she utterly losing her mind? He was a multi-billionaire who could have absolutely anything he wanted and the only reason she was in the picture at all was because he wanted a child.

  She had no business being interested in him, even if her pregnancy body was all for it.

  Taking a deep breath, Esme closed her eyes, trying to shut out everything from the way her hormones felt to the thoughts swirling desperately in her mind. When she had the doctor’s appointment with Hartsford and his woman, she would be perfectly cordial. She would nod when she was supposed to and take any abuse the bitch could dish out with a smile. After all, she was really doing this for the baby – for it to be born into a healthy family who would surround it with love and affection.

  Daniel, she had no doubt, would love the child with every fiber of his being. It was clear in every glance, in every word, that he wanted a child more than anything else in the world. And why shouldn’t he? The man was getting to the age where the desire for family began to weigh down on one – the do or die period.

  Whether Alyssa was on the same page or not…she certainly wasn’t making things easy for Daniel…or Esme. The young woman could only hope that Daniel’s desirable dish came around in time for her child to be born. “Or else your mom might be crazy, little bean.” Glancing down at her stomach in the darkness, she spoke lowly to the miniscule life growing within. The moment after she had, she felt as though she should feel ridiculous for talking to a child that wasn’t even hers. But when the sensation didn’t come, she merely smiled, rubbing her flat abdomen lightly.

  Her moment of Zen was interrupted by her phone buzzing in her pocket. Esme jumped, scrambling to extract the device from where it vibrated against her thigh. “Hello?”

  There was a moment of hesitation before a very familiar Texan drawl answered her. “Esme?”

  A jolt of immediate arousal shot down her spine, making the young woman sit up ramrod straight as her eyes widened. Of course, she knew that Daniel had her number, and that they were bound to be in contact throughout her pregnancy – but to get a call from him at eleven t
hirty on a Tuesday night – she hadn’t been expecting it at all.

  “Mr. Hartsford!” The words escaped her in a shocked rush before she managed to compose herself, clearing her throat. “Mr. Hartsford, hello. Hi. Yes, this is Esme.”

  “How are you?”

  At least he was kind enough not to skip the pleasantries. “Fine.” A bundle of raging hormones and crazy cravings, but other than that, she was about as well as could be expected. “Great. Yourself?”

  There was another pause – this time long enough to cause her genuine discomfort. “Esme, I actually called you to talk about something fairly important. I’m sorry to contact you so late. I hope I haven’t woken you.”

  The young woman arched a brow in surprise. Something important? Did the business mogul have some specific nutrition plan he wanted to go over with her before the doctor’s appointment on Thursday? A supplement he might want to discuss? It struck her as a bit late for that but she supposed a concerned father was a concerned father.

  “You haven’t woken me at all. I was just getting off work, actually.”

  “Were you?” The man’s voice came back registering slight surprise, and for a moment Esme thought he might be intrigued enough to actually ask her where she worked. Of course, she was disappointed. “Esme, I know it’s a bit late notice, but would you be available to meet for breakfast tomorrow morning? Around nine?”

  “Um…sure? I’m alright with that. Is there…some kind of emergency?”

  “No emergency. Just something we have to discuss.”

  We? ‘We’ as in he and she alone?

  The moment the thought crossed Esme’s mind, guilt suffused her. Why on earth would she think that Daniel wanted to see her alone? Of course Alyssa would be coming along. This meeting was probably something of her contriving. The woman certainly seemed demanding enough to bother her beau at close to midnight.

  “Ok. No problem.” What else could she say? She certainly couldn’t deny the man – not when his voice sounded like hot, succulent caramel dripping from a spoon.

  “How’s Reginald’s Tavern? Off 471?”

  One of the most expensive English breakfasts in town. Esme had always wanted to go but had never been able to afford it. Now, Hartsford’s generous stipend gave her more than enough to pay the restaurant a visit. Several, if she chose. “Sounds good to me.” Her hungry belly growled at the fact, and her lips curved as she remembered she was eating for two now.

  “See you tomorrow, then, Esme. Goodnight.” When she hung up with the phone with the man, Esme couldn’t help feeling somewhat unsettled. He had sounded off – as if the thought of their meeting caused him just as much apprehension as it did hers. Esme could only hope that Alyssa would be somewhat more cordial – if for no other reason than to take some of the pressure from Daniel. The man was tense around her – almost as if he expected the Hispanic beauty to explode at any moment.

  Her discomfort followed her home and she slept fitfully, neglecting even a modest dinner although she was starving. When the next morning came, she made a quick smoothie, which she sipped at as she contemplated what to wear to breakfast.

  Esme tried to tell herself to throw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. She was pregnant now. Who was she trying to impress? According to Alyssa, her body was going to be ruined anyway, so why try? The thought made the young woman smirk as she shook her head.

  In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to spite the woman who had disrespected her. She was well aware of how childish the impulse was, and how it would be better to just throw on whatever was clean and go. However…it wouldn’t hurt to make herself presentable. If she was going to be the surrogate of a billionaire, she might as well dress the part – even if it was just for a day.

  Esme went through her closet critically. There wasn’t a whole lot to choose from that wasn’t chef’s coats and regulation black pants. She had a few pairs of jeans and tops for interviews, a lonely black pencil skirt, and the black sheath she’d been wearing when she met Daniel and Alyssa. She supposed she could wear it again, but she wanted something with a bit more oomph. Digging deeper, she managed to unearth a burgundy peplum number a friend had convinced her to splurge on years ago.

  Upon trying it on, she was delighted to find the garment still fit, and for a moment, she contemplated the sweetheart neckline indecisively. She didn’t want to seem like she was trying too hard. What she did want was for Alyssa not to treat her like chopped liver – and perhaps to take advantage of her slimmer figure while she still had it.

  If Daniel happened to silently appreciate, well, so much the better. Not that she thought he really would. If he was with Alyssa, Esme was sure he was the type of man to only have eyes for his woman.

  After putting on the slightest bit of makeup and wrestling her hair into some semblance of order, Esme was on her way to the restaurant. She tried to ignore the butterflies winging their way to life in her stomach. She was just going to breakfast with the baby’s parents to discuss pregnancy matters. That was all She was more than well-equipped enough to handle this, and she would take their concerns very seriously into account. The meeting would go off without a hitch – and so would the doctor’s appointment Friday.

  There was a valet at Reginald’s even at nine in the morning, and though Esme felt rather silly giving them the key to her beat up black Volvo, she did, tipping the young man who took charge of her car before heading inside. All it took was one inquiry of the hostess before the woman was tripping over herself to lead her to a secluded table in the back of the restaurant, away from the breakfast crowds.

  For all the positive thinking Esme had done in the car, the sight of the beef baron sitting at the corner table stopped her in her tracks. His tall form was folded casually into the booth, wrapped in a crisp navy blue button-up and dark wash jeans. He was, again, wearing his beat up cowboy boots, but Esme liked the allure they gave him. The man’s Stetson sat on the white tablecloth before him, revealing still damp golden hair curling over his collar. The moment she appeared, Daniel shot to his feet, towering over her at his substantial height. “Esme.” His voice still held all of the tension from the previous night. “Thank you so much for coming.” Even as nervous as the man obviously was, his low, smooth tones were enough to make her shiver.

  Esme wrestled with her hormones as she joined him at the table, trying not to salivate as the man’s sleeve stretched taut over prominent muscles when he reached to pour her a cup of coffee. “It’s no problem.” She gave him a smile as wide as she dared. “I know you guys must be really excited about your little bundle.” She glanced back towards where the restaurant washrooms were expectantly. “Did Alyssa just head to the ladies room?”

  It was the only reason she could think of for why she wouldn’t be at Daniel’s side, guarding her man with her life.

  Daniel cleared his throat as he poured his own cup of coffee. “Actually, that’s what I called you here to talk about, Esme.” The man exhaled hotly, before raising strikingly blue eyes to lock with hers. In the depths of those eyes, Esme caught an edge of desperation before the man continued. “Alyssa is gone. She left about four days ago after a…particularly bad argument. She hasn’t answered my calls and I’m not sure where she is.”

  The blow couldn’t have hit Esme harder than if it had been physical. The breath was stolen from her lungs and her head spun as she tried to absorb the gravity of Daniel’s words. Alyssa was…gone? The woman had just walked out on her partner – on the unborn child she had planted in another woman’s belly not three weeks before? Where the hell had she gone? And what argument could have been so devastating as to cause her to storm out?

  For a moment, Esme struggled to maintain her composure. What would this mean for her? Would she have to abort the baby? Terminate her contract? She’d hoped that a portion of the stipend she received for her surrogacy would help to keep her afloat while she sought out a permanent head chef position; the job she held now couldn’t last long – that she knew. If s
he had to find another couple…it would be harder. It wouldn’t be her first pregnancy, so that might be a black mark on her formerly pristine health record. She’d have to go through all the rigorous tests all over again.

  Her panic must have shown on her face, for immediately, Daniel’s hand covered hers where it was clenched into the white tablecloth. “Esme, I still want the baby.”

  The young woman’s gaze jerked to him in surprise. While she never would have doubted that Daniel wanted the child, wanting one and raising one alone were two completely different prospects. “I still want to go through with this.” He continued in a soft tone, his gaze earnest. “And there’s no reason that I think we can’t. Alyssa…she just needs some time. Hopefully she’ll come around.”

  What a way to get cold feet though – leaving the man you love completely alone to deal with the coming birth of a baby by himself. Esme could think of few things crueler. In that moment, she looked down to where Daniel’s hand covered her own, the intimacy of the gesture making her flush slightly. The man’s palm was warm and rough – it was almost as if her knuckles could pick up every ridge and callous.

  What would those hands feel like sliding over her skin…cupping her to the heat of his mouth? Heat slammed through the young woman, even as Daniel realized the forwardness of his gesture and removed his hand somewhat sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I just want to reassure you that we’re still going to the doctor Friday, still taking on all of this…that is, if you’re still on board.”

  There was a clause in Esme’s contract that stated that, if at any time she should feel that the baby was in danger of being placed in a potentially unstable household, she could report it to the clinic. It meant, of course, potentially removing the child from its’ biological parents’ care – but even though Esme wouldn’t be the child’s mother, she still felt enough responsibility towards the baby that she would blow that whistle without hesitation, if needed.