I want to be happy for Jace when I hand over his son or daughter, not sad. I’m sure it’s a mixed bag of emotions, and with the hormones the way they are, it will inevitably be a rollercoaster.
“What’s with you and candy?” I tease. I’ve never seen him snacking on candy. Sure, he’s had some junk food in his house, but he mostly eats healthy, and everything he cooks is always nutritious.
“I like my sweets.” The elevator descends to the parking garage, and Jace escorts me to his car, opening the door for me.
He really doesn’t have to do that, but I smile and rather appreciate his charm. It’s chivalrous.
And while I shouldn’t find anything he does sweet or attractive, it’s hard not to notice him when I see him every night.
I buckle my seatbelt, and he jogs around to the driver’s side and climbs into the vehicle.
“Where are we heading?” I ask again. His shopping comment is way too cryptic for Jace. It’s the kind of answer I’d give to one of his bodyguards when they’re forced to accompany me.
“Dinner, and I’d like your opinion on a few baby things.” He pulls the car out of the parking garage.
Traffic is heavy, but his attention is on the road while we converse. His hands are on the steering wheel, careful as he pulls out into traffic. He’s a calm driver, far calmer than I am while in city traffic and dealing with idiots.
“Oh,” I say, surprised he wants my involvement. I rest a hand on my belly. I haven’t felt the baby kick yet, only slight flutters barely noticeable, but having been pregnant before, I pick up on the more subtle movements.
“Is that okay?” He’s already heading away from the house, but I’m not the least bit nervous. I trust Jace.
What I don’t trust is my ability not to flirt with him.
Jace is handsome, incredibly wealthy, and the most generous man who I’ve ever met. It’s hard not to fall for someone constantly lavishing you with attention. That’s probably how my slight crush started.
At least, I like to think that it’s small, like the size of a lemonhead. It was probably the size of a jellybean last week.
Shit.
The kid is growing as fast as my crush.
Jace glances at me, awaiting an answer. He looks concerned that I haven’t told him that I’m okay with going out to look at baby things with him.
“Yeah, sure,” I say and smile, genuinely excited to be a part of this process. “I just didn’t think you’d want my opinion.”
“You’re a mom. You’ve been through this before,” Jace reminds me. “This is my first time.”
I smile weakly. I am still a mom. Even with Austin gone, that doesn’t change anything. “You’ll be a great father,” I say, and I mean it.
He’s been wonderful to me, generous. I can only imagine him being great with his son or daughter.
“Thanks, but you have to say that. I’m paying you,” Jace teases.
He is paying my salary with the company and an additional stipend per month for the pregnancy expenses. Of course, it’s a little more than just expenses. The extra zeroes on the checks are far more generous than any agency would provide for the surrogate.
“Even so, it’s true.” I smile and glance out the window. Is it warm in here? My cheeks feel heated. I reach for the thermostat. “Do you mind?”
“Make yourself comfortable,” Jace says.
* * *
After a fancy dinner where I feel underdressed, even in my work attire, Jace drives us a couple of blocks to the nearest baby boutique.
It’s expensive, high-end, and honestly, no one needs to spend thousands of dollars on a rattle or silver baby shoes that the newborn can’t wear.
There’s over the top, and then there’s looking to blow money because they see you coming and know you’re a billionaire. I don’t let him buy anything and drag him out of the store in under five minutes flat.
“I thought we were shopping?” Jace’s brow is tight. He doesn’t seem to grasp what a baby needs and what a store wants to sell you.