Secret Millionaire for the Surrogate

“I love what I do and I’m good at it. But it doesn’t fulfill every single aspect of my life.”

They stopped on the sidewalk outside her house. “Nor should it, really. Not if you want any sort of balance.”

She was so right. “Then here we are,” he said, “two very proficient people who love their jobs, who occasionally miss personal interaction.”

“This has been an incredibly deep discussion.” Her gaze touched his and then shifted to the house. “I have lemonade or some sparkling water if you’re interested in a drink. But I understand if you have to keep going.”

He held her gaze and smiled. “If it means I can drink it sitting on that porch with you, I’m in.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

HARPER’S PULSE WAS drumming rapidly as she poured two glasses of lemonade and carried them out to the front porch. The overhang of the porch roof kept them shaded, but the afternoon was warm and mellow and perfect for sitting and enjoying the weather. That she would be sitting with Drew was what had her in a tizzy.

Because he’d kissed her today, and it had been lovely. Wonderful, even. More tender than she’d expected; gentle and unhurried. They’d had a simple ice cream in the sun and he’d held her hand. She’d had to pull away before she got too used to it, because it made her feel so lovely and special and she didn’t want to read too much into anything. Next thing she’d start actually caring, and then have her heart crushed beneath his heel.

She handed him his lemonade and remembered the look on his face when he admitted he was lonely.

“Thanks,” he said easily, and they sat on the porch swing together, a good twelve inches between them. He took a sip and leaned back, closing his eyes. “This is perfect. Reminds me of home a little.”

Home. There wasn’t any compliment that would have meant more to her. She’d been in Banff for several years now; longer than she could ever remember being in one place since she was a little girl. She’d put down her own roots and she loved her little house.

“I’m sure your folks had a much bigger house and yard.”

He laughed. “They did. There were four of us kids, and a couple of pets usually. But there was something about it, even in all the chaos, that was calming. I don’t know. I guess we always knew we were welcomed.”

She swallowed against a lump in her throat. “You’re welcome here, Drew.”

“Thanks.”

He nudged his toe on the floor and set the swing moving a little, a lazy back-and-forth that lulled. The lemonade was cool and tart, the sun warm and lazy, and Harper closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of a neighbour’s fresh-cut grass and the spicy smell of the geraniums in her porch planters.

She opened her eyes slowly and saw Drew grinning at her. “What?”

“You look like you could go to sleep.”

“Sorry. I’m really relaxed.”

He put his drink down on a patio table and leaned toward her. Her heartbeat quickened, but he didn’t touch her. Instead he reorganized the pillows on the swing so she could lean back along the side. “Here. Turn around and rest your head there, and put your feet on my lap.”

The accelerated heartbeat made her chest squeeze tighter and she shook her head. “Oh, I’m fine, don’t be silly.”

“When was the last time you took a few hours off and had a nap? Seriously. I’m going to drink my lemonade and wait for my phone to buzz, so please.”

She was tired. Pregnancy had a way of doing that to her and the indulgence was so tempting. “I’m not going to sleep. But it would be nice to put my feet up.”

It took only ten seconds for her to put her nearly empty glass on the table, shift sideways and lean back against the plump cushions, and for Drew to settle her feet across his lap, his arm lying casually across her shins. “Better?”

It was more than better. It was heaven.

And then he set the swing moving with his toe, just a little, and she closed her eyes. The warm breeze kissed her skin; she listened to the birds singing and the wind fluttering the leaves of the trees. Drew’s phone buzzed and he shifted a little to respond, but said nothing as her breath deepened. She put her hand over her belly, thinking about the little life inside her that was causing all these changes, and the fact that Drew seemed remarkably unfazed that she was carrying his niece or nephew.

That was her last thought until she woke, her feet still in Drew’s lap. He had nodded off, too, his phone still cradled in his hand, and she took a moment to look at him without fear of being caught.

There was so much more to him than she’d imagined. Things that were so good and made her think they had a lot in common, and then things that showed her how different they were. He came from a big happy family; she was an only child who’d been abandoned and then adopted. He had wandering feet; she longed to put down roots. She lived from check to check, putting whatever she could back into her business after paying the rent; he was a successful businessman.

And yet despite his ambition and energy,

there were things they had in common, too. A love of the outdoors. Loneliness, sure, but also an appreciation for the people who embraced them and were important, like Adele and Dan. Ice cream and lemonade and quiet afternoons on a front porch now and then. Naps.