Chapter 7
Tessa
I sit in the quiet of my room, staring at my banking app on my phone.
There’s now ten grand sitting in my account.
I can’t quite get my head around Jasper just giving me that much money, like it was nothing to him.
If I’m being honest, that hot biker doesn’t look like the kind of man with easy access to that kind of money.
But I guess appearances can be deceiving.
There’s something about Jasper that slips around all my carefully constructed walls.
He gets through to me like no man ever has.
Part of me thinks he’s just a fast talker who uses words the way Mr. Whitmore uses money—to get what he wants.
I hate to be so jaded, especially about him of all people.
I guess time will tell whether he’s being earnest with me or not.
It’s still early evening, so I call my Gran’s room at her assisted living home. Thank God the state picks up the tab for that, because I’d never be able to afford their rates. The phone rings three times before she picks up.
“Tessa is that you?” her trembling voice asks.
I jump to my feet and start pacing as we talk. “Yes. It’s me. Are you okay? Your voice sounds weak.”
“I’m hungry. I couldn’t eat the dinner they sent. It was pork chops.”
“Oh, I know you don’t like pork, Gran. Tell me what you feel like eating and I’ll make it for you.”
“You don’t have to do that, dear. You probably worked hard today.”
“I was off today,” I tell her. That’s a lie, I don’t want to worry my gran, but I’m scared my boss is going to have to let me go. I push that to the back of my mind, “And I’m starving myself. Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it for both of us.”
“You know I enjoy those chicken pot pies that you make. The crust is always so tender and flaky. I know you enjoy making them too.” Her voice even sounds hungry, which I wouldn’t have thought possible.
“That’s a great idea. Give me an hour and a half and I’ll bring it over to you. Maybe we can eat together.”
“Oh, that would be nice. I do miss seeing you.”
“I’ve got some big news for you too.”
“I can’t wait to hear it, dear. Please hurry.”
“I will. See you soon, Gran.”
When I get off the phone, I go to my kitchen and get right to work, making my special homemade pot pie.
When I’m standing at the sink, I see two men dressed in the same leather vest Jasper was wearing, walking around my property.
They are so quiet that I wouldn’t have known they were there if my eye hadn’t caught their movement.
I immediately decide to double my batch, maybe as a thank you.
I don’t know these men and I should be wary, but Jasper vouched for them.
I won’t get too close, I decide. I’ll just leave the pies on my back porch and text Jasper to tell his guys to come and get them.
I don’t know why, but this feels like the right thing to do.
My hands move at the speed of light, and I hum to myself as I cook the filling in a large stock pot, grate handfuls of cheese, and then roll out the pastry dough.
I have a set of twelve pie pans my Gran used to bake pies for the state fair eons ago.
I pull out five of them—one for each of us, and one to grow on.
I know that’s a silly saying, but it’s what my Gran always used to say: cook enough for everyone to have a serving, and then an extra in case someone turns out to be extra hungry.
Tonight, I’m relaxed because I don’t have to deal with the Whitmores and all their unresolved control issues.
I can keep the pregnancy, and Jasper has stepped up to cover my expenses.
He really wants this baby, and I can’t blame him.
If Jasper is any indication, his baby is going to grow up to be a smooth-talking, tatted-up badass like his dad.
I try to imagine what his baby is going to look like, and then I remember that it will look like me as well.
It feels like I have baby brain and can’t stop thinking about the pregnancy.
Before I know it, I’m filling up the pie shells with the chicken and vegetable mixture and covering them with my cut crust strips.
Once they’re in the oven, I head upstairs to shower and get dressed.
I come back downstairs just in time to hear the timer go off for the pies.
I pull out my Gran’s pie keepers and put a pie in each one.
I stack three on my back porch and text Jasper, before taking the last two with me when I get into the car.
I’m not thinking about anything except getting to my Gran’s house and am surprised when two motorcycles follow me.
It’s those prospects. Of course they’re escorting me. Jasper said they were like guards. It makes me sad that their pies are going to get cold before they get back, but there’s nothing for it, I suppose.
***
By the time my Gran and I are settling down to eat our dinner, it’s well after dark. We don’t care because we’ve got a lot of catching up to do. I take out the flatware and water bottles I brought, and we dig in. It’s nice to see my Gran eat so enthusiastically.
She asks around a forkful of chicken, “You said you had some news to tell. I want to hear all about it.”
I take a deep breath and swallow the food in my mouth before getting started. “Well, remember how I told you I was going to be a surrogate?”
Her expression sobers instantly. Her shaky hand wavers a bit. “Yes, of course I do. I remember telling you that pregnancies are not to be taken lightly.”
“I heard you loud and clear.”
“Is the rich couple nice, at least?” she asks. The tone of her voice suggests she doesn’t approve.
I snort a laugh. “Oh goodness, no. They were a nightmare.”
“Maybe you can still back out,” she tells me, picking at her food.
“I broke the contract. Told them to buzz off.”
My Gran’s eyes flash up to mine. “Really? You’re not going through with it?”
“Oh, I’m pregnant alright. There was a mix-up, and they used another man’s sample to fertilize my egg.”
My Gran bolts upright in her seat. “You’re really pregnant by a stranger? How did that happen? Is he going to try to get you to terminate the pregnancy? Oh, my goodness, this is worrisome.”
I reach out and grab her hand, giving it a little squeeze. “No. Come to find out, he’s really nice and offered me the same deal the other couple did to carry his child to term.”
“Exactly how nice is he?”
The suspicion in her voice is vintage Gran. She’s always been a cautious woman, and it’s saved her a fair amount of trouble in life.
“He paid me a visit today and said he’d support whatever decision I made. But he was really keen on me becoming his surrogate. He has parents and three brothers, and they apparently love kids.”
My Gran picks her fork up again and shovels another bite into her mouth, making a motion for me to continue with my story.
I tell her the best part. “He even said that I could visit with the child whenever I wanted after it’s born.”
Her eyebrows fly up. “Are you sure he’s not looking for a mama for his baby as well?”
I shrug. “I don’t think so. He seemed pretty keen to be a single parent.”
“Well, this all sounds like a best-case scenario kind of situation,” she tells me.
“I think that too. The best part is he already transferred ten grand into my account, so we can pay for your treatments.”
Her eyes go wide, and she stammers, “Is that why you wanted to be a surrogate? I never wanted you to do something so drastic.”
“I wanted to do something nice for another person and get to experience what it was like being pregnant,” I lie. “That I’m getting compensated for it is just icing on the cake.”
Since I’ve already freaked her out, I don’t go into the rest of my sordid story—the part involving the Whitmores and needing protection. That’s all a bit much for an old lady to deal with. I don’t want to give her nightmares, after all.
My phone buzzes, and it’s Jasper. He sent me a selfie of him holding up the extra pie with a dopey smile on his face. I turn my phone around to show my Gran.
She reaches for it with a trembling hand. “Is that him? He looks nice enough.”
“Oh, he is,” I insist, even though I’m not a hundred percent sure myself.
If I can only get one stroke of luck in life, I hope this is it.
There’s something about him that makes me feel safe.
I take a selfie of us eating our pie and send it back to him.
For some reason, I blush when he sends me the heart-eyes emoji.
I know he means that for the pie and not me.
We spend some more time together. I help her wash her hair and then take off, as she settles down to watch reruns of her favorite TV series.
When I get into my car to head back home, those two prospects materialize out of thin air and stick to me like glue. At some point on the way home, I start to feel like this is getting silly. Whitmore is not so much of a threat that I need protection. At least, I don’t think he is.
Then again, Jasper seems like he’s got experience unpacking dangerous situations, and he thinks the prospects are necessary.
By the time I pull into my driveway, I’m mentally exhausted from worrying about it. The prospects don’t approach me, but I see them head around back—hopefully to get their food.
I head upstairs and fling myself onto the bed, fully clothed.