THE BABY PLAN

by Susan Gable

Harlequin Superromance ® #1103

December 2002

ISBN# 0-373-71103-4

“What’s your dream, Harley?”

“Dream?  What do you mean?”

“I mean, what does a beautiful, talented woman like you want out of life?”  He leaned forward so he could hear her answer clearly over the clatter of dishes and murmur of other diners. 

“That’s easy.  I want to finish my college degree before they have to put me in a nursing home and then get a job in business.”

He tilted his head and studied her carefully.  “I can’t really picture you in a suit at a board table.”

“That’s exactly the point.  I’m tired of being Harley the mechanic.  Nobody takes me seriously.”

“The people whose cars you fix do.  You did a great job with my Mustang.”

A slight tinge of pink graced her cheeks.  “Thanks.  But society doesn’t exactly look up to mechanics, especially not female ones.”

“So, what’s stopping you?”

“There’s this little thing called money.  The college is pretty picky about paid tuition.”  A strand of her hair, loose from her ponytail and hanging down near her face, shifted as she blew out a breath.  "Not to mention the other bills I have to pay right now."

"What about student loans?  And if things are really bad, you could probably get welfare."

Talk about killing looks.  The one she gave him in response to that comment could have taken out all the people in the immediate vicinity.

"I don't do government programs," she said.  "I've had enough experience with them to know I'd rather starve, thanks."

"Sorry.  I didn't mean to offend you.  What if I told you I could help make your dream come true?”

She gave a short laugh.  “I’d say this is going to be interesting.”  She crossed her arms.  “I’m listening.”

Her guarded expression warned him to tread cautiously.  “Harley, more than anything in this world, I want a child.”

“Why?  Look around.  Why would you want to bring a child into this hellhole we call a world?  And what does that have to do with me?”

“There’s a space in my life only a child can fill. I no longer have a wife, nor do I want to get married again.  I need a surrogate, and I think you’d make a perfect one.  You’re beautiful, intelligent, --”

“An ex-con, and this is the most unbelievable come-on I’ve ever heard in my life!” 

The noise in their immediate area dropped and heads turned in their direction.

“It’s no come-on.”  He stared pointedly at a gray-haired woman one table over until she returned her attention to her meal.  "And if you're truly innocent, then you're not an ex-con in my book."

The shocked expression on her face vanished quickly, replaced by a glint of steel.  She leaned across the table until her breath warmed his face as she spoke softly.  “If you wanted me in your bed, you were on the right track before you took this sudden detour.”

An image flashed by of her in his bed, silky hair fanned across his pillow as she writhed beneath him, and he found himself struggling to erase it.  “No, no, that’s not what I’m proposing.”  But hot damn, the image provoked and delighted him.  “I’m talking about artificial insemination.”

She sat back, staring at him.  “You’re a sick man.  That’s the coldest thing I’ve ever heard in my life, and I’ve heard a lot.  I’m not a prostitute, and I’m not a baby factory.”

Jake grabbed her by the wrist.  “Harley, think about it.  I’ll pay all the medical expenses, your full tuition, your books, even your living expenses.  You could get that degree you want so much.”

“Let go.”  She tugged on her arm, but he held her firmly.  “I’m flattered, I think, that you decided I’d make the perfect mother for your baby.  But I’m not interested.  There are enough children in this world.  Find one whose parents don’t want her and take her in.”

“Tried that.  It didn't pan out.  Now I want a biological child, a child I have legal rights to."

“At least you get points for honesty.  No seducing with pretty words, no declarations of love or empty promises.  No, at least you’ve got honesty going for you.”  She yanked her wrist from his grasp and slid from the booth.  "Kids are a commitment, not a...a whim.  They deserve a good home.  Good luck in your quest.”

“Spend some more time with me!  Let me prove to you I can provide a good home for a child," he called after her.  "I'm reliable and responsible --"

Harley shoved past a group of people waiting in the lobby, stormed out the front door and onto the sidewalk before she remembered he’d driven.  She whirled on the green-and-white racecar that sat on the sidewalk and kicked the rear tire.  “Dammit.”

How dare he?

A surrogate!

For once she’d thought someone like him, someone with a little class, could actually be interested in her.  She should've known better.  He was no different than any other man – out to get what he could from her.  Although what he wanted differed from what most of them were trying to get.

A noisy cluster of patrons spilled out of the glass doors, and Harley turned to check for Jake.  Fortunately, he wasn’t among the crowd. 

“Harley!” a deep voice boomed.  A large, bald man dressed in denim and leather broke from the group and headed in her direction.  “How’s it hanging?”

Thank goodness, a familiar face.  “Hey, Cutter.  You know, I could use a ride.”  Just thinking about the prospect of walking all the way down Peach Street into the city made her feet ache.

“For my favorite mechanic, I think I can swing that.  Come on.”  The big man ambled off the sidewalk and across the parking lot.

Harley scrambled to keep up, but as Cutter headed for the bike parking area, she halted in her tracks.  “Where’s your Camaro? It can’t be in the garage, I just repaired it.”

“On a warm, clear night like tonight?  Don’t be crazy, I rode the bike.”

She should've stayed in bed.  Under the covers.  Maybe tomorrow she'd do exactly that.  Harley waved her hand at Cutter.  “Forget I asked.  I’ll just walk.” She changed direction, making for the road.

A booming belly laugh made her turn back around.  “Don’t tell me a girl named Harley doesn’t ride?”

“Not if she can help it,” she muttered.

Cutter leaned over the back of his bike, then straightened up, holding a helmet aloft.  “Come on, I’ve got an extra brain bucket and everything.”

If she didn’t accept his offer, she ran the risk of another encounter with Mr. Have-My-Test-Tube-Baby.  Not to mention she had to walk.  “All right.”  She warily approached the bike. 

Helmet secure, she mounted behind him. The motor rumbled to life, and Cutter revved it.  She shouted her address into his ear.  He nodded.

She flung her arms around his waist and held on for dear life.  She knew altogether too well what could happen on a bike.  And that even a helmet didn't actually guarantee protection of a fragile human brain.

             She'd become a ward of the state at the age of ten, along with her father, after he'd had an accident on his motorcycle one afternoon while she'd been at school.  With no other family to make the decision, the doctors and court had pulled the plug on her dad, and sent her to the first in a long line of foster homes.

             She bit her bottom lip, hard, to stop the trembling.

As they breezed by the restaurant entrance, Jake appeared at the doorway.  Harley turned her head away from him even as she unwillingly considered what his proposal could mean to her.  She had no job, and a pile of bills to pay.  If he paid her living expenses and her tuition, plus books and everything else, she could go to school full time and finish up her degree by next spring.  The new Harley Emerson could emerge and take her place in society.

But...a baby?

The thought tightened her chest, making it difficult to breathe.  She buried her face into Cutter's back and tried to block out the memories of her life after losing her dad.  They brought nothing but pain.

Instead, she tried to imagine all that an artificial insemination entailed.  Doctors and needles.  Tests.  Cold, sterile laboratories.  A shudder shimmied down her spine.  Ick.  Worse, she could imagine the taunting a child conceived like that might endure.  Bad enough to be labeled a bastard, but a bastard test tube baby?  Poor kid.

Maybe her parents hadn't been married, and maybe her mother had walked out on her, but at least Harley knew she'd been conceived in passion, in a warm bed.

She’d be a surrogate when hell froze over.

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From the book THE BABY PLAN by Susan Gable
Harlequin Superromance® December 2002, ISBN 0-373-71103-4, ©2002 Susan Guadagno.

Cover Copyright (C) 2002 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher.
The excerpt published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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