No. It couldn’t be that. Bran lacked a sense of humor. He was being snarky.
“Not from you, I don’t.”
“Liar. You had four or five solid O’s Anne. When was the last time you had one?” The concerned Bran had morphed into the jerk I’d come to know.
“I’ve got to go.” I gave up looking for my underwear. I was going straight home anyway.
“We’re not done with our deal.”
I kept going, leaving his office, and heading straight to the elevator. I don’t think I took a breath until I arrived home and collapsed on my couch.
What had I done? I just had sex with my nemesis who saw me as his employee or an investment.
I didn’t like him. He didn’t like me. He was my best friend’s brother, a friend that was currently angry and estranged from him.
God, if she found out that I’d had sex with her brother, I don’t know what she’d do but it wouldn’t be good.
I immediately got into the shower to wash off my misdeed and focus on why he was my enemy to rid the aftereffects of several good orgasms. But the more I tried to think about all the reasons I didn’t like Bran and having sex was wrong, the more my body would counter with reminders at how good he was with his hands and mouth.
He wasn’t wrong about my orgasm history. It had been a long time since I’d had a really good orgasm and he’d give me several.
But no. I didn’t like him. He was a controlling jerk. How had my hormones let me down?
Sure, I thought he was attractive before, but my revulsion of him always trumped that. But now, for some reason, desire took over.
Then I remembered how I’d admired him for a moment at dinner the other night when he talked about taking care of Harper when she was younger. Dammit, he was starting to grow on me. That had to be the explanation as to how we’d gone from arguing to having sex on his couch.
God, if that was the case, then this surrogacy deal was even more problematic. If I moved in with him, how could I be sure it wouldn’t happen again?
I couldn’t believe it happened once, so how could I be sure my hormones wouldn’t betray me again?
And then there was Harper. I couldn’t see how I could hide what I was doing from her. It wasn’t like I could keep a pregnancy a secret.
God how I wished I could talk to her about this.
She’d think the surrogacy was a crazy idea even if Bran wasn’t the man in question. And I was sure she wouldn’t understand my having sex with Bran. Could I really lie to her for a year? Avoid her for the five months or so I’d be showing?
I exited the shower, not feeling any cleaner or at peace than when I stepped in. I pulled out an old pair of yoga pants that were pilling and a faded college t-shirt. I should make a trip to the thrift store to see if I could find new lounge-around clothes.
Of course, I wouldn’t have to go to thrift stores if I had twenty-five million dollars.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. How could I walk away from that?
Yes, it was a big deal to have a baby, but Bran was right. He’d get what he wanted and so would I. Plus, while I believed Bran’s desire for a child was that he wanted to be a father, he had to have calculated that it could be a way to reconcile with Harper as well.
I couldn’t imagine Harper staying away from her niece or nephew.
As angry as Harper was at Bran and how she felt she couldn’t be around him and maintain her freedom, I knew it was hard on her to avoid him.
Being Harper’s friend, I’d hear about said niece or nephew…my daughter or son. In some ways, that could be good. I’d know how well the child was doing.
But in other ways, it would have to become difficult. That would be my child too.
A child I’d given up.
Except, maybe it wouldn’t be my child. Yes, it would have my DNA, but the deal was to carry his child. Those other surrogate women were able to keep their emotions focused on helping someone else. Could I do that?
A thought occurred to me that walking out on Bran without completing the deal could mean that the deal was now null and void. Bran didn’t strike me as a man who put up with a lot of grief. It was one reason I still couldn’t understand why he’d chosen me to be his surrogate.