3. Viggo #3
“That isn’t a yes or no question,” I growled sternly.
Freya just chuckled. “I’m a surrogate.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You’re the first person I’ve told. The only person. I’m not telling my family. This is a secret. All of this is a secret, but not really ’cause I’ll have a belly soon and…I wanted you to know.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I went with, “Why?”
“You’re my favorite person in the whole world, and I love you and—”
“No, I meant…why do this at all? I don’t…I don’t understand.”
That was an understatement. I was reeling.
“A couple of reasons,” Freya replied softly.
“I can solve so many problems and do a good deed all at once. I can put money away, experience childbirth, and thinking about someone else will keep me from thinking about demons and regrets…and Anni. My therapist suggested that I find a way to help others and—”
“And you decided to become a surrogate?” I huffed incredulously.
“This is good, Viggo. Be happy for me. Please.”
I tugged at my beard in frustration. What could I do? I had no say here. “I…okay.”
“Thank you.”
“I just want you to be safe.”
“I am.”
We let silence gather for a moment. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but I had questions. And they all came out in one big blast.
“How does surrogacy work? Is it your egg or someone else’s? Do you have a relationship with the family? Who’s your doctor? Where will you have the baby? Are you taking vitamins? You can’t drink alcohol. You know this, right? You must eat well and…who will take care of you?”
Freya gasped. “Oh, my God, Viggo. Take a deep breath and—”
“Answer the questions.”
“Okay, okay. I’m taking care of me. Don’t worry, V.
I’m seeing Dr. Razminski once a month, taking vitamins, eating well, staying hydrated…
no alcohol. I’ve only had the one bout of morning sickness, but the books say it’s early.
I’m only seven weeks along. That means I have another thirty-three to go.
As far as surrogacy goes—it was my egg. I’m considered a desirable donor, and there was more money involved so I went for it.
That’s the extent of my relationship with the father.
It’s a business transaction. Nothing else.
Honestly, I thought he was gay at first, but I did some research and he was married once. ”
I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean? There’s no family?”
“No, no. He’s a single man who wants to be a dad,” she replied breezily.
“Who is he? Where is he from? What does he do?”
“I can’t tell you. It was part of the contract. He added it at the last second, and I have to be cool about this.”
“This is very suspicious. I don’t like it,” I growled.
“Viggo…come on. Be happy for me,” she coaxed.
My God. I shook my head in defeat, unsure why I was so upset. Freya was a grown woman. It didn’t matter if I liked her choices or not. She would do as she pleased. What I didn’t want was for her to get hurt, and I had a bad feeling about her being able to walk away from her own child.
“I’ll try. I just…”
“You’re mad.”
“No, I’m not.” I rested my chin on my elbow and closed my eyes. “I’m worried…that’s all. If I knew who this man was, I might feel better. I don’t want you to be taken advantage of, and you have a history of—”
“I know, I know. All right. I’ll tell you something about him, and I know I shouldn’t, but this is too good not to share. You just have to pinky promise me that you won’t do anything weird.”
“That’s not a good introduction.”
Freya snickered. “Such a drama king. It’s nothing bad. In fact, it’s kind of funny. The man who hired me is from Wood Hollow.”
“Wood Hollow?”
“Yes. Can you believe that? He’s very nice, very handsome, and I think he’s going to be a great dad. That’s all I can say, and I’ve already said too much, so just be happy for me. And for you. You’ll get your money back with interest.”
“I don’t care about the money, Freya.”
“Well, I do. I want a new start. No debt, no regrets. This is how I’m doing it. Okay?”
I stared numbly into space. I had more questions and a lot of frustration. My wayward, wild friend had made a life-altering decision, and I couldn’t help thinking she hadn’t thought it through. And now it was too late.
“Okay.”
What were the chances of the father of the child being from Wood Hollow? I wondered who he was. No…I had to know who he was.
Logically, I understood that surrogacy was a contractual arrangement, but that baby had half of Freya’s DNA, and that made it complicated and—
Dexter.
Red-hot fire burned in my gut.
It was fucking Dexter.
I was angrier than I’d been in a long time. I didn’t like being angry. It wasn’t good for my blood pressure or my fists. But I had no rights here. None whatsoever. I had to remember that.
But he’d duped me.
The ultra friendly donut man who’d mysteriously popped up everywhere had never cared about being seen kissing the cop. No, he’d been curious about me.
I curled my hand into a fist and roared loud enough to raise the roof.
I thought about punching the wall, but I didn’t want a DIY project.
I thought about taking my frustrations out on some weights in my home gym in the basement, but I was sore from my day at the mill. I had to do something, though.
I headed for the garage and revved up my bike, speeding through my residential area and turning onto Main Street.
Winter had been ferocious this year. There were still pockets of dirty snow on the sidewalks of the treelined streets, however the roads were clear of ice. And while the town was ghostly quiet at eight o’clock on a weekday, there were signs of life at Log Cabin Diner.
I veered right at Belvedere, the winding pass that led to Elmwood through a forest of giant evergreens, elms, and walnut trees.
The forest and the lake dominated the landscape, but visibility was tricky and on a moonless night, it was like driving in a dark tunnel.
I rode on and on, from Elmwood to Fallbrook and along the high ridge to Pinecrest, the snootiest town in the Four Forest area.
Not that I paid much attention to the sights. I was more concerned with getting my temper under control, reminding myself this wasn’t my business. But I couldn’t quite get there.
I grappled with unwanted emotions, willing the hum of the motor between my legs and the cool wind on my face to zap me out of my mood. It didn’t. I ended up back in Wood Hollow again as confused and upset as ever, idling in front of a two-storied modern log cabin on a quiet lakeside cul-de-sac.
I had ice in my veins and a chilling sense of purpose I knew might be morally suspect. It didn’t stop me. I left my helmet on the bike and marched up the steps and rang the bell. Three times.
Dexter peeked through the glass window, frowning as he opened the door. His feet were bare, his hair was damp, his sky-blue T-shirt clung to his toned chest, and his gray sweats hugged his cock. I’d bet he wasn’t wearing briefs and yes, I was instantly annoyed that I’d noticed.
I scowled harder and met his gaze.
He offered a tentative smile with one hand propped on the doorjamb. “Viggo. Hi. Can I help you?”
“You’re having a baby, and I’m going to fucking punch you.”