The Maverick's Bride-To-Order. Stella Bagwell

PROLOGUE

      CALLIE TAYLOR STARED at the pregnancy test kit. She felt the weight of it in her hands. There was no point in reading the instructions—she already knew what they said. Knew the simplicity of its words: ‘One line indicates a negative result. Two pink lines indicate a positive result’.

      Simple words but such a momentous implication. Life-changing. Well, just for nine months, maybe—because, as a surrogate, she’d be giving the baby away after it was born. But even then … being best friends with the father of the baby meant the baby would always be in her life …

      Callie opened the box, pulling out the thick wad of paper wrapped around the end of the two kits, and threw the instructions in the bin. She knew how these things worked. As a midwife, she conducted many a test—especially when she worked in the fertility clinic. She placed the second kit back on the shelf and tore through the wrapping around the first.

      She had never considered for even one moment that she would be doing this test on herself, and yet here she stood.

      What was she doing? Had she made the right decision to do this? To be a surrogate? What if things didn’t work out? What if she fell in love with the baby?

      No, course not … I’d never do that.

      She splashed her face with cold water and dried her hands.

      Pee on the stick. That was all she had to do and she would know.

      Could there be any doubt? It had to be positive, didn’t it? She already felt sick and tired all the time. And she kept eating biscuits.

      Not much of a sacrifice, though, was it? A big waistline and labour. That was all she had to get through to give Lucas and Maggie their much wanted baby. Callie could do that. And she didn’t have to worry about wanting to keep the baby because she’d never wanted kids anyway.

      No biggie.

       So why aren’t I peeing on this stick?

      She held the slim white plastic tube in her fingers, staring at it. Her bladder felt full. There was only one thing to do …

      She did what she had to and put the cap on the stick, sliding it between the taps on her sink.

      I’ll look at it in a moment.

      Just as she was finishing washing her hands her doorbell rang. They were insistent, whoever they were. Ringing constantly, a finger held on the button, determined not to stop until she answered the door.

      ‘Oh, God … Who is it?’ she called out. If it was someone she didn’t know, then she wasn’t going to bother answering it at all! Did they not know that she had a life-changing moment going on here?

      Leaving the bathroom, she glanced around at the state of her flat. It wasn’t too bad. There were cups here and there and on the coffee table, papers, magazines and an open packet of gingernuts. Clothes were draped over the back of the sofa, the radiator, and the whole place had a bit of an uncared-for air about it. It looked a mess.

      Like me. Besides I’m in my pyjamas.

      ‘Callie, it’s me … Lucas!’

      Lucas. The father. Maybe …

      Okay, I have to answer the door for you, at least.

      ‘Hang on.’ Callie moved quickly down her hallway, grabbing stray items of clothes and tossing them all in her bedroom. She ran her fingers through her hair, hoping she didn’t look too much like death warmed up, and pulled open the door, trying to seem casual.

      ‘Hi,’ Lucas said. He looked awful.

      She frowned. Lucas looked pale, distracted. Not his usual self.

      Callie followed him into her lounge. ‘You okay?’

      It wasn’t like Lucas just to turn up like this. Normally he’d ring to let her know he was coming round, just to make sure it was all right and she wasn’t going out.

      Lucas stood in the centre of Callie’s lounge, hands in his jacket pockets, looking very uncomfortable. ‘No, not really—no.’ He fidgeted in his pockets, bit his lip. Then, with nothing better to do, he sat down on the couch in a sudden movement, waiting for Callie to join him.

      ‘What’s up?’ She hoped this was going to be a quick conversation, considering the state her stomach was in.

      Lucas shrugged, unable to meet her gaze. ‘Everything. Everything’s up.’

      Callie felt awkward. Normally in this situation a friend would reach out, lay a reassuring hand on a knee and say, Hey, what’s up? You can tell me. But Callie didn’t feel comfortable doing that. It wasn’t who she was. She didn’t do reassuring physical contact.

      Except with her patients. Somehow it seemed okay to do it with them. It was her professional persona. It wasn’t her. That was Midwife Callie, not Real Callie.

      Lucas smiled at her, but it was strained—one of those brave smiles that people tried to put on their faces when in reality the last thing they wanted to do was smile.

      Callie was even more at a loss.

      ‘Hey … what’s wrong?’ She edged closer. She could manage that and resist the urge to put her arm around him.

      ‘It’s Maggie …’

      ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked quickly. ‘Is she sick?’ Callie really couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.

      ‘No, not sick. That would be easy to deal with … No, she’s worse than sick.’ His voice had a tinge of anger to it now, and Callie found herself frowning.

      ‘Then what is it?’ She dreaded asking. What would he say? Had she been in an accident? Was she at death’s door? In a coma? If it were any of these things, then how would the baby situation work? She’d only agreed to be a surrogate because there was no chance she’d be expected to take care of the baby …

       Oh, God, I’m going to be expected to take care of the baby …

      Horror and fear grabbed her in their vice and she began to feel icy-cold, almost to the point of shivering. She closed her eyes at the onslaught, hoping that when she opened them again everything would be good and Lucas would tell her something nice.

      Lucas took in a deep breath. ‘She left. Walked out.’

      He looked at her in disbelief and waited for her reaction. His eyes were strangely empty of tears, despite the news.

      ‘Left? But—’

      ‘She’s been having an affair, apparently. Some doctor in A&E. I don’t know—I think that’s what she said. She said I didn’t love her enough, she wasn’t happy, and she’s gone.’ He stood up then, unable to sit still a second longer, sighing heavily now that he’d told her the important news. He turned to her and did that brave smile thing again. ‘Good thing you’re not pregnant yet.’

      His words echoed around her skull like a bully taunting her in the playground.

      Of course. She’d told neither Lucas nor Maggie about feeling a bit dodgy these last few days. She’d kept it to herself so that if it were true that she was having a baby it would be the best surprise to give them …

      Only now it was backfiring as a great idea. There was a test in the bathroom, currently marinating, about to tell them both their future. She could be pregnant. With Lucas’s child and no Maggie to play the part of mother!

      So who would be mum, then?

      Callie recoiled at the thought, looking away from Lucas and shifting back in her chair. She nibbled on her nail, worrying about all the implications.

      She’d never wanted to be a mother—that was the whole point!