by M. S. Force
I go into a panic at the thought of him showing up before I’m ready. I need to shave and wax and… polish. I can’t just throw open the gates and let him come rolling in. Preparation must be done, and I need proof that he’s clean before the gates open for business.
He must sense my panic attack, because the next time I glance his way, he’s got his right eyebrow raised in inquiry. He’s getting into the passenger seat of Kristian’s new silver Tesla while I unlock my red BMW M6 convertible. Jasper points to his phone, and I nod before getting into my car.
Call you in an hour, his text reads.
Ok.
I can deal with a call. I’m not ready to take him on in person. Not yet anyway. I leave the airport and head north on Route 1 to my home in Venice. I’m not sure if Jasper is going to his place in the city or to his Malibu beach house, but what does it matter? When he calls in fifty-seven minutes, I’ll tell him I’m not available tonight and we can talk tomorrow.
My skin feels tight, as if it’s shrunk in the time we spent away. Probably too much sun. But if that’s the case, how do I explain the beaded nipples and the tingling between my legs that occurs every time I think of the plans I made with Jasper? To say his willingness to father my child was unexpected is putting it quite mildly. Never in a million years had I expected to tell him I want a baby, let alone accept his offer to father my future child.
“It happens the old-fashioned way. No laboratories, turkey basters or test tubes, just hot, sweaty, no-holds-barred capital infusion.”
Dear God, remembering the way he said that has me pressing on the accelerator, desperate to get home to Pete. I roll into Venice Beach and drive along the famous boardwalk, which is still busy even late on a Sunday night. While my brother and his friends prefer the refined sophistication of Malibu, I dig the edgier, artsy vibe of Venice. I live a block from the beach in a two-bedroom bungalow that I’ve fully restored myself. I’ve taken do-it-yourself classes on everything from plumbing to electrical rewiring to refinishing floors to plastering walls.
Every inch of the gleaming beauty I call home has my stamp on it, and I enjoyed it so much that I’m looking for another house to restore. At this point you must be wondering what a Hollywood princess like me is doing in Venice Beach, renovating my own house when I can afford to hire people to do it for me. That’s true, I can. My parents are fabulously wealthy thanks to successful careers in show business. The whole world knows who Max Godfrey and Estelle Flynn are, and their crown prince, Flynn Godfrey, is an international superstar.
But I’m just Ellie, daughter of stars, sister of a superstar, and I live off what I make from a job that pays me very nicely. My parents set up trust funds for each of us that matured on our twenty-fifth birthdays. My sisters used some of their money to buy homes for their families, but I’ve never touched mine, and I don’t think Flynn has ever used his either. He doesn’t need it, and neither do I.
I have everything I need in this cozy home within walking distance of the Venice Beach boardwalk and the beach itself. I can smell the ocean from my front porch, along with the scents of fried food and sunscreen and occasionally the exhaust from too many cars and motorcycles.
My parents are “babysitting” my dog, Randolph, and tomorrow I’ll go to Beverly Hills to pick him up from Grammy and Pappy’s house—and yes, that’s what they call themselves when they refer to their granddog, Randy. I think they fear they’ll never have actual grandchildren from me, so they go all-out in their affection for my fur baby. Have I ever got a surprise in store for them!
The house is strangely quiet without Randy to greet me, and it smells musty from being closed up all week. I throw open the windows to let in the cool ocean breeze that ruffles the curtains. And no, I didn’t make them myself, although sewing is on my list of things I still want to learn how to do. At the doorway to the room across the hall, I flip on the light and study the empty space that I hope to soon fill with a crib, changing table and everything else I need for the baby I want so desperately.
My heart beats faster with excitement now that I have a plan in place to make my dream come true. Jasper and I will make a beautiful baby. I have no doubt about that. I’m just not sure how I’ll stand to wait nearly a year to meet my little one. Sighing with impatience, I turn off the light and go into my room.
Though I thought about Pete all the way home, I hold off on our reunion, knowing Jasper is going to call. I unpack the clothes I washed before we left Mexico, change into comfortable pajamas, wash my face and brush my teeth before getting into bed with my phone plugged into the charger. My skin is sensitive and tingly, as if something is about to happen. If he can wind me up like this in anticipation of a phone call—
The phone rings, ten minutes ahead of when he said he would call, and I nearly jump out of my tingling skin.
“For Christ’s sakes,” I mutter before taking the call and forcing a cheerful, this-is-no-big-deal-when-it’s-the-biggest-deal-ever tone. “Hi there.”
“Hello, darling.” The word sounds like dahling in his yummy accent, and the endearment has me melting into the pillows.
“Hi.” Wow, how exciting does my hi sound after his oh-so-sexy dahling?
“Well,” he says, “you’ve put me into a right state the last few days. I hope you know that.”
“Wait. What? What did I do?”
“Um, shall we start with the show in the pool yesterday?”
“What show in the pool?” I ask, genuinely baffled.
“The peach bikini, the wet skin, the hard nipples, the endless legs, the hair. Need I continue?”
“I… You…”
His deep, rich laughter makes me hot all over. “All I’ve thought about since the other morning is how long I have to wait to make good on our plan.”
“Oh. You… You have?” That last word sounds more like a squeak than a word from a usually articulate woman. It’s the accent. It’s my kryptonite. I could die happy if I could go listening to him talk.
“I have indeed. What about you?”
“It’s crossed my mind. A time or ten thousand.”
That laugh is quickly becoming my second-favorite thing about him.
“So you’re excited, then?” he asks in a low, intimate tone that I’ve never heard from him before. Of course I haven’t heard it. I’ve never been intimate with him before.
I press my legs together, as if that alone can stop the insistent throb between them. “About the baby? Very much so.”
“How about the making of the baby? That, too?”
“Um, yes, that, too.”
“Ouch.”
“Oh no! That’s not what I meant! You don’t know how relieved I am to not have to go the clinical route to have a baby. You’re doing me a huge favor, and I appreciate it.”
“Well, I’m sure it’ll be a dreadful hardship,” he says, sounding so terribly British I would’ve swooned had I not been in bed, “but somehow I’ll get through it.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Yes, darling. I’m joking.”
“Oh.” I release a nervous twitter that sounds nothing like my usual laugh. “Good.”
“However, I’m not joking when I say we need to see to the practicalities of our arrangement before we proceed.”
“What practicalities do you mean?” Is he thinking your-place-or-mine type of stuff?
“The legal kind, for one. Due to our friendship and as well as my friendship and partnership with your brother, I think we need to tend to the legal business before the fun stuff. Just so there can be no misunderstandings later.”
“I can live with that.”
“Do you have a lawyer you can ask to represent you?”
I immediately think of my childhood friend Cecily St. James, who’s in private practice in LA. “I do.”
“If you shoot me his or her info, I’ll have Emmett set up a meeting.”
“Emmett? As in Emmett Burke, who we work with?”
“As in Emmett Burke, the
general counsel who works for me as one of the Quantum principals.”
“But… He’s Flynn’s friend, his lawyer, his…”
“Ellie, take a breath. I trust him implicitly, and I’m using him as much for your protection as mine.”
“How will he protect me if he’s your lawyer?”
“He cares about all of us. He’d never breathe a word of what we’re planning to do to anyone. I can’t be that certain about another lawyer, and I want to be certain. Don’t you?”
Well, when he puts it like that… “Yes, of course I do. I’ll get you my lawyer’s contact information.”
“Excellent. We’ll get it sewed up right quick and move forward. Yes?”
“You said for one thing. What were the other things?”
“I figured you might have some conditions.”
“This may seem somewhat insulting, but I wondered how I’ll know that you’re, you know… clean.”
“You’re wise to ask. I’m happy to provide documentation. I assume you’ll do the same?”
I told myself I wasn’t insulted that he would ask, but felt the sting nonetheless. “Absolutely.” I was due to see Dr. Breslow on Tuesday and could take care of it then. And since I hadn’t had sex since my last exam, I’d be able to easily prove I was STD free.
“Well, very good, then. Soon enough we’ll have ourselves sorted and can get down to it.”
“Is that a euphemism where you’re from?”
“I think it’s a euphemism everywhere for what I’m referring to.”
His dirty laugh sets off a wildfire that warms me from the inside and makes my face—and other important parts—feel overheated. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yes, see you then.” I press the big red button on my phone to end the call and put it aside to reach for the bedside table, where Pete is waiting to take the edge off. That’s when I remember I forgot to get batteries. Hopefully, he still has some life left, because I need him tonight.
Though I arrive at the office early, eager to see to the details of my arrangement with Ellie, Emmett’s first opening isn’t until eleven. I’m useless as my morning passes with an unusual lack of productivity. All I can think about is getting Ellie into bed, which is perplexing more than anything. I’ve known her for years, worked closely with her and hung out in our close group of friends regularly. Over the years, she’s become somewhat of a sounding board for my trials with other women. But until that morning in Mexico, I never allowed my overly active imagination to seriously go there with her, because of who she is to Flynn, more than anything. Now she’s all I think about. How does that happen so quickly?
I want the details sorted as quickly as possible so we can get on with it. With that goal in mind, I make an appointment with my doctor for tomorrow. Legal, medical and logistical. Two down, one to go. Where will we meet to make our baby? Her place or mine or somewhere neutral, such as a hotel room? I need to ask her what she prefers.
I have shit I need to get accomplished on this first day back to work, but with most of the blood in my body hanging out with J.T., my concentration is crap. By the time eleven rolls around, I’m a useless bag of nerves and hormones, not to mention anxiety. What a potent combination.
Right about now, I should probably make a confession. While I never allowed my imagination to run in Ellie’s direction, more than once I wished she wasn’t off-limits to me. I’ve harbored a low-burning, what-if, wouldn’t-it-be-nice-if-we-could-but-we-never-will sort of crush on her. Not that I ever would’ve acted on it, for reasons you know by now. But she intrigues me. I can’t deny that if I were to seek out an actual relationship, she’s someone who could make me reexamine the way I live my life.
However, my life is set up the way it is for reasons I’ve kept to myself all these years, and I’m not at liberty to reexamine anything. That’s why I need to be very, very careful with how I approach this baby-making project so no one, especially Ellie, gets hurt.
Emmett buzzes my extension to let me know he’s free. When I stand, I experience a moment of dizziness that reminds me of where most of the blood in my body is currently located. “Give me five,” I say in reply to him.
“See you then.”
The line goes dead, and I force myself to think of the most unsexy things in the world—the smell of liver cooking at my grandma’s house on Sundays, smoking, facial tattoos, people who are rude to waiters in restaurants. That last one does the trick. I abhor rudeness.
Now that I’ve got J.T. under control—for the moment anyway—I head down the hall to Emmett’s office, entering after a quick knock. He’s on a tense-sounding call, so I take a seat and feign an interest in my phone to give him some privacy.
He ends the call, slamming the receiver onto the desktop phone.
I raise a brow in his direction.
“I despise the first day back after vacation.”
“That bad, huh?”
Emmett waves off the aggravation and forces a smile. “What can I do for you?”
I choose to go for shock value since his day has been shitty so far. “It seems I’ve decided to have a baby.”
Emmett’s mouth falls open. “You… You wanna run that by me one more time?”
“You heard me right the first time.”
“And you… Have you…” He clears his throat. “Is a baby already on the way?”
“Not yet.” Suffice to assume he’s no longer thinking about his frustration. I’m amused by the uncharacteristic stammer in his voice. He’s usually so cool and collected. It’s funny to experience Emmett shocked nearly speechless.
“Oh, so…”
“I’ve agreed to father a friend’s child.” I can almost see his brain working overtime to wrap itself around what I’m telling him.
“This friend… She’s someone you know well?”
“She’s someone we all know well.”
Emmett stares at me, waiting for me to fill in the blanks for him.
“Ellie.”
His eyes nearly bug out of his head. Yep, definitely not thinking about whatever was stressing him out earlier. “As in Ellie Godfrey?” he asks, blanching.
“The one and only.”
“Pardon me for asking, but are you out of your fucking mind?”
I can’t help myself. I laugh. Hard.
Nowhere near as amused as I am, Emmett sits back in his chair, arms crossed, glaring at me.
When I get myself under control, I say, “First off, she’s the one who wants a baby. Second, I offered to help her out so she’s not stuck messing with a sperm bank. Third, the baby will be hers and hers alone. And fourth, that’s where you come in—making sure it’s clean and legal and all sewn up.”
“So you and Ellie are going to—”
“Make a baby. Right.” I stick out my chin for effect. “I imagine he’ll be a cute little chap, don’t you think?”
“I, uh, yeah, of course. But Jesus, Jasper, it’s Ellie.”
“Yes, I know.”
“And do you also know Flynn will fucking kill you for touching his sister?”
“No, he won’t. She won’t let him. This is what she wants, Em. She wants it more than anything, and if we have our way, no one other than our lawyers will need to know who the baby’s father is.”
“You really think you can keep something like this a secret?”
“We aren’t going to tell anyone. Are you?”
Emmett scowls. “Don’t ask me that. You know better.”
“I do, and that’s why I trust you to handle it for me. I’m giving her full custody and anything else that has to happen to make the baby entirely hers.”
He picks up a pen and balances it between his fingers as he eyes me with trepidation in his expression. “As your attorney and your friend, I feel I have to warn you against signing away your rights before the baby is even conceived or born. You may feel differently once you meet your son or daughter.”
“I won’t feel differently, and Ellie has agreed to libe
ral visitation, which is all I’m interested in. I have no desire to change nappies or have my beauty sleep interrupted for months.” An ache in the center of my chest makes a big, fat liar out of me, but my reality is what it is, and no child of mine is going to be saddled with the burdensome obligations that have marked my life. I wouldn’t do that to my worst enemy, let alone my own child.
“Jasper, I can’t, in good conscience, allow you to do this.”
“Do I need to get another lawyer?”
“Of course not. I just want you to think about it—really think—before you do something that can’t be undone.”
“You’re one of my best mates, Em, as you well know. So is Ellie. I don’t expect anything to change between her and me once we conceive this child. We’ll still be friends, and she’ll have what she most wants. I’ll get to have some hot sex with a beautiful woman. It’s a win-win.” And I… I’ll be able to look on from a safe distance as my child grows and thrives without the weight on his shoulders that’s been sitting on mine since the day I was born.”
Emmett taps his pen on the desktop as he continues to stare at me. “This hot sex you’re going to have with our friend’s sister…”
“What about it?”
He leans in, elbows on his desk, gaze intense and focused now that the shock has worn off. “She’s not in the lifestyle, Jasper.”
“I know that. I have no plans to dominate her, not the usual way anyhow. She wouldn’t have it.” I wait a beat while trying to gauge his mood. “So, you’ll represent me, yes?”
“Yeah, I’ll represent you,” he says with obvious reluctance. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
“You say that like I’m often off the rails and out of control.”
“You never are, which is why I’m concerned. This isn’t like you.”
“Every so often, we have to step outside our comfort zone to see what’s going on in the rest of the world.”
“So that’s what this is?”
“This is me doing a favor for a dear friend. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“There are ways you can do this favor without ever laying a hand on her.”
