Secret Millionaire for the Surrogate

“Maybe, but call me old-fashioned—I’d like to be settled with a partner before having kids, and that doesn’t seem to be on the horizon anytime soon. Hasn’t ever been, actually.”

“What are you talking about?”

She shrugged, pulled her legs off his lap and sat up. “I’ve always been something of a tomboy, you know? And I don’t make friends easily. I tend to fade into the woodwork. Which is fine.” She tried not to sound defensive; after all, she’d chosen to hold back to avoid getting hurt time and time again when she would inevitably have to move. “I’m just more comfortable behind a camera than in front of it.”

“Too tomboyish? A wallflower?” His face had blanked, as if he truly didn’t understand. But she knew it was the truth. She still felt all the times that girls had been asked to dances and on dates and she’d been overlooked. Or how her mom had taken her prom dress shopping and they’d bought a beautiful gown, only she hadn’t found a date. That marked the one and only time she’d lied to her mom. She’d got ready, let her mom take some pictures at the house, and then had said she was going to a friend’s place as several of them were going without dates.

Instead she’d gone to a nearby lake with a book and a stash of sodas in the car. And she’d gone home at nine thirty, telling her mom she’d had a great time, but that she felt a migraine coming on from the lights and music and she was going to bed.

Then Jared had come along, and she’d fallen hard. Only to have her heart spectacularly broken. Was it any wonder she was a bit jaded?

She wouldn’t say any of that to Drew, though. There was sharing and then there was oversharing. It was easier to stick to the plain Jane theory.

“I’m an outdoor girl,” she explained. “I don’t wear makeup much. I don’t know, I guess I don’t...stand out. I’m kind of invisible. Which is fine—I’m happy not being the center of attention.” It had served her well, all the times she’d moved to a new town and been the “new girl.”

“But it might be nice to be the center of someone’s attention?”

That he articulated it so well caused a pang in her chest. “Well, yeah, I guess.”

“Harper?”

“Hmm?”

He looked her fully in the face. “You’ve got my attention now.”

Oh my. She surely did. He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t cracking a joke or trying to be deliberately charming. He was being truthful and focusing all his attention on her.

“Do you want to know what I see?”

“I’m not sure if I do or not.”

A ghost of a smile flirted with his lips. “I’m going to tell you anyway. I see a woman who is caring and generous. I see someone who is beautiful and doesn’t realize it. Who doesn’t need makeup and who has the sweetest little blanket of freckles over her nose. I see a body strong from walking trails and climbing rocks and streams to get a perfect photo of a baby bear cub. I see that same strong body growing a new life for someone who can’t. Don’t ever say you’re plain or ordinary again.”

Tears burned in her eyes at his earnest words. They weren’t like his compliments at the wedding, engineered to woo and romance. They were heartfelt and sincere and she loved him for them, even if she wasn’t in love with him.

His phone buzzed but he didn’t look down at it. He held her gaze until she gave a sniff and a small nod. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“If that’s true, it’s a damned shame.” He smiled then. “People should be appreciated and told so.”

“How did you get so wise?” she asked, blinking away the last of the moisture from her eyes. She wasn’t going to weep over his sweet words, even if they’d touched her deeply.

“My father. We’re very quick to criticize when someone does something we don’t like. But we hold on to our compliments and praise, and it doesn’t make sense.” He scowled a little bit, and she wondered if she was thinking about anyone in particular. “It’s the biggest life lesson I’ve taken with me,” he continued, “and it’s probably the number one thing that’s helped me in business, too.”

Business. Right. The comparison took a little of the bloom off the rose of his compliment, but it also made her respect him even more. For all his charm, she was starting to realize his success came from a place of very hard work and

genuinely appreciating his people. It was an attractive quality for sure. One that spoke of integrity.

“Your phone buzzed, by the way,” she offered softly.

“I know. I’ll get to it. I want to make sure you’re okay first. You’re not invisible, Harper. I promise.”

Her gaze slipped away and she focused on a bumblebee that was sitting comfortably in the middle of a clump of blue lobelia in one of her planters. His words—you’re not invisible—left her with an odd feeling of discomfort. Did she want to be invisible? Maybe. And if she did, then how could she really complain about being alone? Deep down, she knew she’d made a habit of pushing people away. If she didn’t let herself care too much, then it wouldn’t hurt when they inevitably moved on.

“I’m okay. Really. I’ve just been holding that inside for a while.”

“Because you’d normally tell Adele, and this time you can’t.”

She nodded, an ache around her heart.