Surrogate and Wife (2 page)

A part of Jake was in her.

The thought unnerved her, so she fisted her hands on her lapels and pulled her jacket more closely around her body. She didn't want to eat dinner with him. Didn't
want to do anything with him. Yet there probably were things they should talk about.

“Okay, then. Dinner it is.”

Fifteen minutes later she found herself opposite him in a booth at one of the restaurants on the square, a mug of hot tea in front of her, a bowl of tortilla soup and a plate of cheese enchiladas on the way.

As she sipped her tea, she studied him over the rim of her mug. He sat in the middle of the bench with one arm stretched across the back, making his shoulders appear even wider so that he seemed to take up the entire booth.

Jake was so different from all the other men she knew. Men with manicured hands and suit jackets custom-made to make their shoulders appear wider than they were. Her gaze drifted down to Jake's hand where it rested, palm down on the Formica beside his beer. His hands were big, muscular even, with long tapered fingers that ended in clean but unmanicured nails. They were unquestionably masculine. Tough, almost.

Had she ever noticed a man's nails before? She didn't think so. There was something oddly personal about looking at Jake's hands. Warmth swirled through her body, pooling somewhere deep inside of her. Where she carried his baby.

She jerked her gaze back to his, cursing the blush she could feel on her cheeks. His eyes were practically gleaming with amusement. As if he could read her thoughts and knew just how unsettled he made her feel.

A scowl settled on her face and she sat up straighter. “Don't—”

“Let me stop you right there,” he interrupted. “We both know you don't like me.”

“I don't know you well enough to like you or not,” she protested.

“Okay, don't
approve
of me.”

Well, she couldn't really argue with that. They'd only met on a handful of occasions and she'd never been able to relax around him. She saw right through his laidback charm to the testosterone-fueled masculinity beneath. It was less that she didn't approve of him and more that she simply didn't know what to do with him. Which made her very nervous. She also couldn't deny how drawn to him she felt. Why now? Why Jake of all people?

Maybe this sudden attraction she felt was just some weird pregnancy thing. Maybe her body somehow knew he was the father of the child she carried. If that was the case, all the more reason to maintain her distance.

So she stiffened her spine as well as her resolve, and said, “No, I don't.”

“Regardless of that, we're in this together now.”

“I disagree. If anyone is in this together, it's Beth, Stewart and me. Your part in this is, thankfully, over.”

“That might have been true before, but now—”

“Nothing is different now.”

“You can't really be that naive.”

She bristled at his words, even though there was nothing objectionable in his tone. She leaned forward over the table. “Trust me. I am anything but naive. I understand exactly—”

“Okay, not naive then.” He held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “But you've got to admit, things are going to be a lot different than any of you planned.”

“Yes, they'll be different, but I'll manage.”

He continued as if he hadn't heard her concession. “You were planning on Beth and Stew helping you out. Taking care of you. Things are going to be different now. They've got their own pregnancy to contend with.”

“You think I can't take care of myself? Trust me, I've
been doing it for years. Far longer than most women my age, actually.”

“That's not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“From what Beth has said, you haven't had an easy first trimester, but it's only going to get worse. The second trimester won't be too bad, but by the time you hit the third trimester, you'll—”

“What makes you such an expert? Have you taken some sort of course in prenatal care?”

He grimaced. “No, but five of my buddies have had babies in the past eighteen months. I've heard my share of complaints about late-night cravings and women who can't tie their own shoelaces.”

“Well, unless you're planning on moving in with me, I don't see how you could help with either one of those situations.” She chuckled, but the sound died in her throat when she realized he wasn't laughing with her. “Oh my God. You can't be serious.” She gaped at him in disbelief, waiting for him to crack a smile and laugh at her expense. He didn't even blink. “You
are
serious. You think we should move in together.”

K
ate jerked away from him and shrank back into the booth. “Are you insane?”

Okay, that could have gone a little more smoothly.

“Just hear me out—”

“I mean, I knew you were crazy in that, anyone-willing-to-run-into-a-burning-building kind of way, but
this?
”

Okay, a lot more smoothly.

“Or are you joking? Because this just isn't funny.”

“I'm not joking. And if you'll just give me a chance to explain—”

But before he could, the waitress approached with their food.

Kate fumed in silence while their plates were distributed, glaring at him from across the table as if wishing she could charge him with contempt of court.

“Okay, talk,” she ordered as soon as the waitress was out of earshot. “But make it good, because I'm having
a hard time believing that you've been nursing a secret desire to cater to the whims of a second-trimester pregnant woman.”

She continued her diatribe for a solid four more minutes. He didn't bother interrupting—she wouldn't have let him, anyway. Instead, he took the opportunity to study her.

With her ivory complexion and thick black hair pulled back from her face, he'd have to be dead not to notice how beautiful she was. She wasn't anything like the women he normally dated, but she piqued his interest. Smart, sexy and fiercely independent. Challenging enough to keep things interesting without ever being clingy or emotionally demanding.

Not that he'd dream of pursuing her now. That would only screw up an already complicated situation. To make matters worse, he couldn't help admiring how she resisted his help. Even though it made things more difficult for him.

“I wouldn't have to actually move in,” he pointed out once she seemed to lose steam. “But I could still help out.” Changing tactics, he said, “Beth and Stew are worried about you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Beth and Stew always worry about me. Trust me, if it wasn't this, it'd be something else. The part of town I live in or the hours I work. Beth is a worrier.”

“Well, this time she feels responsible.” He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on either side of his plate. “Whether you like it or not, your life is changing. I can help you.”

“What exactly is it you think I need help with?”

“Whatever.” He shrugged. “Laundry, grocery shopping, cooking. The point is, you don't have to be so stubborn. You don't have to do everything on your own.”

Her eyes flashed as she leaned forward and spoke with barely concealed annoyance. “I'm not being stubborn. I
can
take care of myself. I am not your problem. I—”

He recognized the slipup as soon as the words were out of her mouth. The way she broke off, then pulled away from the table to toy with her napkin as if flustered, only confirmed that she hadn't meant to give so much away.

Maybe he should have just let it go, but he couldn't resist digging a little. I never said
you
were.”

She wiped her fingers on her napkin and tossed it to the side of her plate. “Fine. The
baby
is not your problem. None of this has anything to do with you.”

“Ah, come on. Even
you
have to admit it has at least a little to do with me.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, your part was very important. I certainly didn't mean to belittle your contribution of spending thirty minutes in a locked room with a plastic cup, but I daresay you've done enough. This end of the deal—” she gestured to her belly “—is all my responsibility.”

Suddenly he didn't feel like teasing her anymore. “You don't have to do it all on your own.”

She cleared her throat. He could practically see her struggling for a flip response, but in the end, her answer came out sounding as serious as his had. “Yes, I do.”

“But—”

“Look, even if your intentions are good, we're talking about the next six months of your life. You're bound to get bored of playing house.”

“I'm not—”

“I didn't mean that as an insult,” she reassured him. “We're talking about half a year of giving up your spare time to coddle a pregnant woman. You'd have to be a saint to do that. And, let's face it, you're no saint.”

“You have no idea,” he said, unable to shake from his consciousness all the sinful things he'd like to do to her.

He knew this discussion was affecting her as much as it did him, because her voice sounded brusque when she replied, “Which only proves my point. Do you really think you're going to want to spend your time off doing
my
laundry when you could be out on a date? Right now, all this pregnancy stuff may seem fascinating, but, trust me, the novelty will wear off.”

“And you think I won't stick around after the novelty wears off.”

“I'm not about to start depending on you now, only to find out you won't.”

He leaned back in his seat and stretched his arm across the back of the booth. “You don't have a very high opinion of me, do you?”

“Don't take it personally. There aren't a lot of people I do have a high opinion of.”

“That's a pretty cynical attitude.”

“Not cynical. Realistic. Every day at work, I see people at their absolute worst. I know what men—and women—are capable of. How they can hurt and betray the people they claim to love the most. If there's one thing I've learned after four years on the bench, it's that the only person you can really trust is yourself.”

“What about Beth and Stew?”

“Of course I trust them. But I certainly don't expect them to take care of me. Especially not now that they've got their own baby on the way. I'll be fine on my own. Just like I've always been.”

And with that she grabbed her purse, dropped a twenty on the table and scooted out of the booth. She left the restaurant without even a backward glance.

He stared at the money for a minute before the irony
sank in. This was the biggest commitment he'd ever tried to make to a woman and she hadn't even let him buy her dinner.

After he dropped his own twenty on the table, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Stew.

“You were right,” he said as soon as Stew answered.

“I told you she wouldn't go for it.”

“She sounded insulted.”

Stew chuckled. “Of course she was insulted. Basically, you told a grown woman you thought she couldn't take care of herself. Not just any grown woman, either. This is Kate we're talking about here. She's been on her own a long time and she's always prided herself on her competence. Which you just questioned.”

“Not exactly.” At least, he didn't think he had. “I think she doesn't like me.”

“No, she probably doesn't. You haven't made a very good impression on her.”

Great. Of all the women he'd known in his life, and gotten along with just fine, the one who didn't like him at all was the one carrying his baby.

He'd been eight years younger and stupider when they first met. Too young to know that some women found charm suspicious. It hadn't helped that she'd been so much fun to tease. She'd never gotten past that first impression of him and he'd never made the effort to convince her he wasn't a total jerk.

“What're you going to do now?” Stew asked.

“Not much I can do. The ball's in her court. If she can't see the logic of my offer, there's nothing I can do about it.” Then he muttered, “Why couldn't she be more like Beth? Beth would have said yes.”

Stew chuckled. “Because Beth is a one-of-a-kind woman.”

So was Kate, Jake couldn't help thinking a few minutes later as he tucked the phone back into his pocket and made his way to his car.

Kate was unlike any woman he'd ever met. Tough, cynical and stubborn. Boy, she was stubborn.

He knew he was right—she would need help in the coming months—but he had no idea how to convince her of that. Still, he couldn't help admiring her for clinging so passionately to her independence. She was a complex and intriguing woman. Way too intriguing.

Under the circumstances, he should probably be thanking his lucky stars she'd refused his offer. He was off the hook. Not even Stewart could say he hadn't tried.

So why couldn't he shake the feeling that something really important had just slipped through his fingers?

He couldn't explain—not even to himself—why he wanted so desperately to be a part of this pregnancy. Surely his offer to help Kate was nothing more than that. Help. It certainly didn't have anything to do with this inexplicable pull she suddenly had over him.

Shaking his head, he shoved the thought aside. As he steered his car toward home, he knew he should be rejoicing in his freedom. And he didn't let himself wonder why he wasn't.

 

Her week—which had started out so badly—only got worse.

From the news about Beth's pregnancy, to the bizarre dinner with Jake, to this—being called on the carpet by Judge Hatcher first thing Thursday morning.

Two years ago Hatcher had been elected a district judge on a platform of conservative family values. Since associate district judges like Kate were merely appointed, Hatcher was essentially her boss. She wasn't
happy about it, since they shared years of barely concealed animosity, dating all the way back to when they'd both worked in the Georgetown D.A.'s office. However, since he had the power to make her life very difficult, and since she knew this position was only a stepping-stone to further his political ambitions, she'd stayed out of his way. Until now.

As she made her way back to her chambers in the courthouse annex, she struggled to calm herself. She found Kevin Thompson, the other associate district judge, waiting for her, noisily poking through the papers on her desk.

“How'd it go?”

Still feeling bristly, she glared at him. “How did you know about my meeting with Hatcher?”

“Are you kidding? In this office, gossip spreads like wildfire.”

She grimaced. As if she needed that reminder.

Kevin propped himself on the edge of her desk. “So, how did the meeting go? Did he just want to rake you over the coals a little?”

“It went about the same as all my meetings with him go. He was patronizing and rude. I kept my mouth shut.”

“Good girl. I know he drives you crazy, but it's best to keep your head down and your nose clean. And look at it this way, in six months he'll be out of here.”

She sank into her chair. “That's not reassuring. In six months the elections will be over. If he's out of here, that means he's been elected to the Texas Supreme Court.”

Kevin shrugged. “True, but at least he'll be out of our hair. And let's face it, ever since he announced he was running, he's been a pain in the patootie.”

Kate sighed. That was sure the truth.

Meeting Kevin's gaze, she said, “He wants me to step aside and let him handle the McCain case.”

Kevin let out a low whistle. “Guess we should have seen that coming. Are you going to do it?”

“Step aside? No. Not if I can help it. That case has been on my docket for months now.”

“A high profile divorce like that? To be honest, I'm surprised this is the first time it's come up.”

Roger and Shelia McCain had worked for a local personal computer company during the boom. The millions they'd made thrust them into the local limelight. Everyone in town wanted to know the details of their divorce settlement. “Until recently, it's only made the local weekly,” she reasoned. “But now that the story is being picked up by the
Austin American-Statesman
and the
Houston Chronicle
, he can't resist getting the press. Guess he figures it's good for the campaign.”

“Good for the campaign? That kind of daily press would be worth a fortune. Maybe you should just let him handle it.”

She shot Kevin an incredulous look. “And let that viper turn those poor people's divorce into a media circus about waning family values? Think about what that would do to them. Worse still to their kids. I'm not going to give him the case unless I don't have any other options.”

“Oh, honey.” Kevin shook his head slowly. “Just be careful.”

“I won't be bullied by him,” she insisted. “Sure, he can make my life difficult, but that won't further his political ambitions.”

Kevin raised his eyebrows pointedly, as if she'd missed something obvious.

“What else can he do?” she asked with false cheer. “It's not like he can fire me.” Her chuckle died in her throat when Kevin didn't join in. “You think he's going
to fire me? That's ridiculous. Even
he
wouldn't try to have someone removed from the bench. Would he?”

“I think if you gave him a reason to he would. Especially if he could pin you with something morally questionable. Think about it, you'd be the first associate district judge fired in over forty years. It'd be all over the press, so it'd be a chance to remind everyone of the hyperconservative values he stands for.”

She studied her friend. “Are you worried about
your
job?”

“Me?” He shrugged. “Not really. I'm very careful, and you're the only one around here who knows.” Kevin didn't dare utter the word
gay
in these conservative halls. “Besides, it's not me he hates. And if he gets rid of you, he could swoop in, take over the McCain case and maximize his media exposure.”

As she listened to Kevin, she felt a sinking sensation deep in her stomach. What if he was right? What if Hatcher was just looking for a reason to fire her?

She'd been perfectly behaved, perfectly respectable her entire life. Except…

Except now she was pregnant. With no plans of marrying.

Back when she'd first agreed to be Beth and Stew's surrogate, it had seemed a simple enough matter. Of course, that was a full five months ago, before Hatcher had announced his plans to run for the Supreme Court. Yes, it had occurred to her that some of her more conservative colleagues might raise their eyebrows, but surely no one could fault her for being a surrogate mother for her sister. But now that Beth was pregnant herself, would people question Kate's pregnancy?