Chapter 11

Will I consider having a baby with my boss? How did I even get here? Oh my god! I'm Surprise Baby for the Billionaire Doctor. The weird hysterical laugh thing I do when I'm overly nervous or anxious about something is roaring up the back of my throat, but now isn't the time for it. His mother has a sense of humor. I'll give her that.

But how do I answer that? I can't freaking answer that. Doesn't he know all he's asking of me?

I won't lie. There is something so undeniably convenient about his proposal.

For one, he's gorgeous, brilliant, a doctor, and I believe he's a good man despite all he's been through. He cares for his sick mother. He wants to be a father and not simply because he wants an heir or to have kids to check a box. He clearly has plenty of money of his own, so going after my trust fund that he knows nothing about is not at the forefront of his mind. There's also the part of him that doesn't want love or a relationship, which as weird as this sounds, is a relief.

But then there are the other massive conflicts that are telling me to say no and run for my life.

He's my boss. He evaluates my work, and in addition to being unethical, I'm also after a coveted fellowship he presides over. If we do this and he doesn't pick me, I might kill him, and if we do this and he picks me simply because I'm his baby mama, I would kill him. So there's that.

Plus, how can I live with him for that length of time? Will I grow to hate him or even worse, love him? Or could we manage to stay distant, living solely as roommates and eventually co-parents? Then there's that.

Co-parenting with him.

That might be the biggest slice of this pie because that puts Bennett in my life forever. Helping to make decisions for the kid and coming in with his own expectations of what he wants for it. What if he remarries one day and my kid then has a stepmother I'll have to manage?

And, well, you know, there's also the big, fat volcano of sexual attraction that was lying somewhat dormant and is now ready to erupt all over us because I said I wanted to try to have the baby naturally. Which is nuts. Why the fuck did I say that? Because living with him won't be enough, I have to start fucking him too?

That laugh escapes, and he gives me a curious look, his lips bouncing since I do sound like a hyena as Owen so kindly put it. Ugh.

"I'm not sure what that is."

I cover my face with my hands and sigh despondently into them. "It's a weird laugh thing I do when a situation is a bit more than I can handle emotionally. You have no idea how many times I nearly did that when we were stuck in the elevator together. You'd think after thirty years of being on this planet, I'd have a better grip on it."

"Ah." He approaches me and pries my hands from my face, forcing my gaze up to his. "Take all the time you need to figure this out. I understand what I'm asking and how that's no small thing. That said, I'd greatly appreciate you giving my offer genuine consideration."

He makes it sound like a job proposal. Which I suppose in a fucked-up way it is.

Still, having a baby with Bennett is like winning the genetic lottery. At least looks wise. His personality is a bit of a cartwheel, but I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that he feels like his life is falling apart or was ripped away from him. I get that. Hell, I'd likely be worse than him if I were dealt his hand.

My hands drop to my sides, and I blink, studying him with the same focus I gave my medical boards. "You really want to do this with me? Have a baby together? You'll be stuck with me for life as the mother of your child?"

"I really want to do this with you," he says in no uncertain terms. "All of it. The making the baby, the carrying the baby, the having the baby, the raising the baby. And just to get this out of the way, I've been tested and can show you the results. I'd never touch you if I wasn't. And I'm happy to undergo any genetic screening you'd like, but off hand, I don't know of any preexisting genetic conditions in my family."

"I was tested after Zane," I tell him, since that's the weird direction this weird conversation has taken. "And he was the last person I was with. As for genetic testing, I think I'll leave that up to my OB since they'll test me for stuff. As you know, I'm a type 1 diabetic, so it seems my genetic lot is worse than yours." Wow. I'm actually having this conversation with him.

He gives me an impish grin. "Looking at you, Katy, knowing what I know, from where I'm standing, you're perfect to me."

I blush. It comes out of nowhere, but I totally freaking blush. He catches it and the way he's looking at me… the way it makes me feel…

I clear my throat and all that girlish gah! away. "I don't know if it's smart to try naturally with you."

He licks his lips and nods. That's it. Yeah, I started something that's a bit hard to undo. Because I want sex with him, and he wants sex with me. That much is obvious. But wanting sex to scratch an itch because the guy is sexy and it's been too long since you've gotten any, and having sex to make a baby are two totally different things, though both a minefield in their own right in this situation. I digress.

"What about the boss thing?"

He hitches up one shoulder. "For me, it's as bad as it gets. I'm not on probation per se, but the board and my boss made it very clear when they hired me that I can't have any indiscretions or I'm out, which is why I shouldn't be doing this with you at all. But here I am, and I don't want to pull back regardless of the risk. Maybe I'm nuts, but I think we could make it through the next year or two without it interfering with our work while managing to keep it a secret."

A secret. As in we live two different lives, one at work and one here in his house.

Hmm. Okay then.

I mean, I'm not sure how well things like that work out, but then again, I don't exactly hang out with anyone in the general surgery or trauma departments, and I also don't get personal with them. The only people I'm personal with are my family, and they'd never tell anyone. It's not like I have to tell people who the father is, but then again, he'd be the father, so?—

"But," he tacks on, interrupting my thoughts. "I realize the tricky nature of that, and if we do manage to get pregnant and this does all work out, I will speak to the head of surgery about it and make sure if our secret gets out, it's not as scandalous as it could be. I can't have that happen. For either of us. It's more of a risk this year leading up to the fellowship. After that, not so much, especially if we're not together."

I raise an eyebrow. "You're taking the sexy, forbidden element out of this for me."

He laughs, the sound cracking through some of his stiff armor. "You sound like my mother."

"I was thinking about the title of the book I saw you reading."

"Now you know why she picked it for me to read to her. But that's fiction, Katy, and this is real life. We can keep it a secret until we have something that requires telling. And we won't fall in love with each other like they do in romance books."

Fair enough.

"I need to think about it." A lot. "I should go." Because even though having a baby with a gorgeous billionaire doctor sounds perfect, as he said, this isn't fiction. This is something I've wanted for a long time. Something I wasn't always sure I'd be able to have with my medical issues. So bringing someone else into my life, into my future planning, is a huge deal.

"Can I drive you home?"

Home. I don't even have a real home. I'm a thirty-year-old woman trying to be a single mother sleeping on a goddamn pullout couch at my friends' place. I'm a cliché. I also think I'm having some sort of existential crisis. Or maybe just a mental WTF.

"Sure," I utter because my thoughts are too chaotic right now, swirling in a thousand different directions and scrolling through a million different variables and scenarios. This day took an unexpected turn on me. It's making my head hurt and my stomach queasy.

I have him drive me to my uncle Callan's and Layla's house instead of Kenna and Keegan's place. Cal and Layla are away right now, staying at my uncles Oliver and Luca's place in Italy for two weeks and then floating around Europe for another month or so after that. But this is the house I came to after my parents died. The house where my uncle took me in and did everything he could to make me feel loved and wanted.

And with that, it's where I need to be tonight.

Not with my cousins seeking me out to ask questions.

I need to be alone where I can absorb and work through everything Bennett offered tonight.

Only the moment I enter the house, the freaking mass alarm sounds. In a flash, I punch in the code and then answer the person who comes through the intercom asking for the password along with my name. The alarm shuts off, but then my phone immediately rings, and I groan.

"I'm sorry," I answer Uncle Callan.

"Are you okay? We were notified the alarm went off and that you're there."

My laugh cracks in two. "No. Not even close. But I'm fine if that helps. I'm at your house. Obviously, you already know that. Sorry. I might be losing it a bit. I needed a comforting place to be tonight where I could think."

He's silent for a beat and I know it's because I just threw a lot at him and because he's half-asleep since it's the middle of the night in Italy.

"Katy my lady, talk to me."

My heart swells at the nickname he's had for me since as far back as I can remember. "It's late."

"Fuck late," he growls. "Talk to me. Do you need us to fly home? We'll be on the next flight."

"Stop being so perfect, Uncle Cal."

I hear the smile in his voice as he says, "Then talk to me and I'll try."

How I love this man.

"I got the green light for undergoing fertility stuff," I tell him, walking up the stairs and heading down the hall toward my bedroom.

"Oh, Katy," he breathes out and I hear Layla mumble something to him in the background. "It's Katy. She got the green light to try for a baby."

"Ah!" Layla screeches. "Put me on speaker."

"Is that okay, Katy?"

I smile. Feeling so grateful and loved. I think that's what Bennett is missing. He has his mom, but it doesn't seem like he has much else. It makes me break a little for him because I'm not sure what I'd do without these people in my life.

"Of course," I say. "I want to talk to you both."

"Katy!" Layla screeches again. "Talk to me. I'm so freaking excited even if I'm like a million years too young to be a grandma."

I enter my bedroom, leaving the lights off. "I'm excited too. More than excited. It means my body is healthy and ready. And that's not something I thought I'd ever get. But…" I blow out a breath, dropping onto the edge of my bed and staring at the walls that are still painted to look like the ocean. "My boss, Bennett Lawson wants to have this baby with me."

"I'm sorry, what the fuck now?" Callan growls, and I shake my head before I launch into an account of everything Bennett and I spoke about tonight, and when I'm done, they're both silent. Too silent.

"You have to say something," I provoke. "Or did you fall back to sleep?"

"Katy." That's Callan. He clears his throat. "Christ, that's a lot. I don't even know where to start. I feel for him. I truly do. That's about as fucked up of a situation as I've ever heard. But I guess I'm wondering… you're saying he's willing to risk his new job, possibly the only one he can get with a history like that and no reference coming from Mayo to have a baby with you?"

I gulp, and then gulp again because the way he phrased that… the implications of it… the meaning behind it… "Yes. It seems he is."

"Jesus. Are you considering this?" he persists, his tone edged with incredulity and worry.

"I don't know," I answer truthfully. "I guess I am, right? Otherwise, I wouldn't be here, and I wouldn't be talking to you about it. I was going to do this with asshole Zane because I want my baby to have everything, and that includes two parents if possible. There are a lot of variables to this, and it's risking a lot for both of us."

"It is," Callan agrees. "Do you know anything about this man? Have you had Vander or Lenox look into him?"

"No. This all happened right before I walked into your place. But this isn't a relationship. It's a business deal. An arrangement."

"All the more reason you should have them do a background check."

I roll my eyes. "The hospital is required to do one, and I knew him seven years ago. He takes care of his sick mother. I was in his home today, which isn't littered with doll heads or beer cans. He's been honest, sincere, and respectful. Despite his indecent proposal." And mine, for that matter.

"So he's likely not a psycho. Good stuff. How do you feel about the business arrangement side of this?" Layla queries.

I stare sightlessly at the wall, rolling that question through my head. "On the one hand, it makes it easier. We'll have a contract, and I know he'll always be part of the baby's life and not some guy who could simply take off on me, abandoning us both. I mean, he could still do that, but it's not nearly as likely without love playing a factor. He wants the baby, badly enough to risk this, so that speaks volumes about the sort of parent he'd be. On the other hand, it's weird. We're talking about a baby. A human life. How do you write up a contract like that? Not to mention, one day, when the child is old enough, how do we explain it to them?"

"A donor is like a contract in a way," Layla offers. "You sign papers, and there are laws surrounding it. It's different in that it would be entirely on your terms that way. This way brings someone else in who will have their own set of ideas on parenting and desires for the child."

"Yes. There's that too." My elbow digs into my thigh, and I rest my forehead in my hand, putting my phone on speaker and setting it on the bed beside me.

"Let's start small," Callan suggests. "Is he a good man? A man worthy and deserving of you and your babies? Is he the sort of man you'd pick as a donor and would feel comfortable having continuously be in your child's life?"

Shit. "That's not small, Uncle Cal."

He chuckles. "Fine. Maybe not. But it might be the most important part of this."

That question knocks me sideways if for no other reason than the answer that immediately hits my brain. "Yes. He is." I blow out a breath. "At least I think he is. I haven't spent a lot of time with him, at least not in a while, but when I knew him back when I was a student, he was, and even now, I've seen him nearly every day for the last couple of weeks or so, and yeah, he is. I think he married a nasty bitch of a woman and chose the wrong best friend. I think he's had a seriously bad run of things. But I think he's a good man at his core. Wes believed the same, otherwise he wouldn't have brought him in as chief. I think he's like you, Uncle Cal."

And now my tears start coming because I think about when I was six years old and I came to live here. My uncle did everything—including risking his entire world and making Layla his fake fiancée—all for me. All so I could stay with him and not be taken from his custody. All because I was his sole priority and he loved me.

Would Bennett be that kind of dad? The one to risk everything in his life for his child? Isn't that what he's already doing by asking this of me?

"Katy, I think the question you have to ask yourself is, do you want a father to your child, or do you want to be the sole parent?" Layla's voice rings through my turbulent thoughts. "There is no wrong answer, and you know you have a network of us to help you with the child no matter what. You're not in this alone. But do you want your child to have a dad? If it's not necessary, then you don't need to risk all that comes with doing this with a man like Bennett. If you do want that, then maybe the risk is worth the means."

I flop back onto my bed, my feet still on the floor, my forearm across my forehead, and my eyes on the ceiling. "How will I know the right choice? You do understand I could be risking my fellowship for a multitude of reasons despite a contract and promises. I don't want to give up my career, but I don't want to give up on having a baby either, and I'm not sure what my window is past now to do that. Could be months, could be years."

"True," Callan agrees. "You don't know. But you don't need Bennett for this. He needs you."

"I know," I say thoughtfully.

"I took a chance that risked my career. Layla was my medical student, and I made her my fake fiancée anyway. You were worth it, Katy, and I could never have done it without Layla. She was so important to both of us. But I fell in love with her. Hell, I was halfway there before we even started with the fake stuff. So if that's truly not what you want, you either have to be in the mental headspace where he is a father to your child and nothing more. Or you do this without him, and he'll have to deal."

"Okay," I murmur, my voice absent, lost.

"When your uncle asked me to move in and be his fake fiancée, I got drunk at Stella's bar and forced Amelia, Octavia, and Stella there. They helped me work out if being fake engaged to your uncle—when it was all for him with nothing for me—was the right choice. Sometimes our people help us through it. But, Katy, in my heart and in my head, I knew it was the right choice before I dragged them along. I just needed people I trusted and loved to validate my thoughts and feelings, or at the very least listen to them. That's what you're doing now, which is great, but you don't have to rush into anything. You can take days, weeks, or even months to figure out what feels right for you."

"I know," I utter, feeling like I'm on repeat. "But the truth is, I don't want to wait weeks or even months. I was ready to start this before Bennett threw me a curveball."

"Then my best advice is to follow your heart and have faith that everything else will work out because you will do whatever it takes to make that happen. I followed my heart, and it brought me you."

Fuck. "Bitch," I sob, and she laughs, hearing the tears in my voice. "I love you."

"I love you too. It'll be okay, Katy. It will be. You know the right choice. But that doesn't always make it the easiest. The right choice is often the hardest to make."

"Thank you." I clear my throat. "I needed this so much. Now go back to sleep," I tell them, sniffling like crazy until I drag myself up and snatch a tissue from the box on my nightstand to wipe my nose. "And thank you for always being there for me."

"No matter what," Callan promises.

I hang up with them and stare up at the ceiling for hours. Crying. Laughing. Shaking my head. Speaking in gibberish because I'm not always so rational when my life gets complicated. I can walk into surgery and be five steps ahead, but when it comes to the personal stuff, I flounder. I don't always trust my gut or my instincts the way I do in the OR.

Maybe that's because of what Zane did to me, or maybe that's why I trusted him in the first place. I have to remember that there are the Zanes of the world, and then there are the Callans, Owens, and Vanders. I need to take myself out of the equation and focus on the baby.

Do I want my baby to have a dad, and do I want that dad to be Bennett?

But come 4:00 a.m., I'm still without sleep, still unsure what to do. The only thing I know is—oh shit. I bolt upright, hit with a dawning realization. One that almost feels too well-timed—almost like fate—to ignore.