The Baby Plan: A Second Chance Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Personal Note

  The Baby Plan

  The Billionaire’s Surrogate

  Double Doctors

  Sleeping with Beauty

  Sneak Peak: Claiming Chastity

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Personal Note

  The Baby Plan

  The Billionaire’s Surrogate

  Double Doctors

  Sleeping with Beauty

  Sneak Peak: Claiming Chastity

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  *

  Personal Note

  Hey bad girl,

  I know you love a baby story. Me too. Being pregnant were the happiest times of my life… only second to the time I was falling in love with my husband.

  Mason and Lara will make your heart flutter and your legs shake.

  And once you finish, you’ll just want to continue reading!

  So I’ve included 3 bonus novels for you: The Billionaire’s Surrogate, Double Doctors and Sleeping with Beauty. So much romance in one book!

  So go on. Spoil yourself.

  xx

  Tia

  *

  The Baby Plan

  I’m on a mission to have a baby – but I never imagined my fertility doctor would be my baby daddy.

  He’s my brother’s best friend.

  The man who broke my heart so many years ago.

  Now, he wants to give me the one thing I want most in the world.

  Mason:

  My jaw dropped when Lara came in for a treatment.

  She wasn’t expecting to see me.

  My best friend’s little sister looked as stunning as the day I went away.

  Except for the resentment in her eyes.

  She doesn't know I never wanted to leave her.

  She wants a baby?

  I’ll give her one.

  Skin on skin.

  Me inside her.

  Her calling my name.

  F*ck the IVF program. I’m going to get her pregnant the old-fashioned way…

  *

  Chapter 1

  Lara

  I’d heard it a thousand times before, but I was not convinced I believed it. If everything happened for a reason and there was always another door opening when one door closed, why did it hurt so bad when the door slammed shut? Why did we have to feel like shit when the “everything” was happening for such good reasons? It was bullshit. That was all there was to it. I didn’t believe it.

  “Here you go, Mrs. Brown.” My attorney’s secretary handed me the stack of paperwork that wrapped up the past decade of my life.

  Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. Marriage over.

  “Miss McCall now. Thanks, Brooke,” I said with the friendliest smile I could muster.

  “Look on the bright side,” she started, and I inwardly cringed. “He didn’t show, which means he isn’t going to contest the final agreement. That means you pay us less!” She said it all with a bright smile.

  I wanted to punch her.

  No, he didn’t show up. My now ex-husband was a world-class piece of shit. He couldn’t even bother to show up to the last meeting to finalize the division of assets. He obviously had far better things, or women, to do. The lying, cheating sack of shit.

  “Thank you,” I said again as I took the stack of papers that summed up my life and left.

  I pushed open the doors of the office and inhaled the fresh sea air. I refused to cry. Not anymore. I had done far too much of that already. The scent of the bay combined with exhaust and a lot of people in a small area assaulted my senses. I walked to a bench and plopped down. I wasn’t quite ready to go to my store yet. I needed a minute to process.

  I looked around the area that had once been a new development. Mission Bay was the place to be in San Francisco nowadays. The neighborhood boasted multimillion-dollar condos, tons of shopping and eating, and high-priced galleries. Now I rarely ever ventured into downtown. We moved here ten years ago when Mitchel first invested in these high-rises. To see the area transform into a bustling, upscale neighborhood had been exciting. We’d thought this would be the place we’d raise our family.

  Shake it off, Lara.

  I gave myself a few more minutes before I picked up the manila envelope with the divorce papers inside and headed down the street to the baby boutique store I owned. I smiled, thinking of the fond memories of when I opened this store so many years ago. It had started on a whim when I couldn’t find what I wanted for my own future babies here in Mission Bay. I wanted clothing and gear that was made without a lot of chemicals. I wanted high-quality, cute, and functional without the designer prices. I wanted my baby to be dressed differently than the million Carter babies I saw everywhere I went.

  As it turned out, I wasn’t the only hopeful mother who thought that way. The store had been very successful, and I was proud to have outfitted many babies over the years—just not my own. My baby never got a chance to wear any of the outfits I had lovingly picked out.

  “Hi!” Kali greeted me the second I pushed open the door. She was my assistant manager. We had a couple part-time staff members, but the business wasn’t all that big and we didn’t need much additional help.

  I smiled and did my best to appear happy to see her and the customers browsing the racks and shelves in the store.

  “Hi, Kali,” I said, walking through the store and toward my office in the back. I couldn’t bear to be surrounded by expectant mothers picking out baby goods. Not today.

  I plopped down at my desk and pulled open a drawer to deposit the envelope. A little black and white picture caught my eye. I picked it up and looked at the tiny lentil shape in the image. It was terribly grainy and certainly didn’t resemble any human baby, but I knew it was. I needed to put the picture in a box or something, but I couldn’t. Not yet. The grief counselor I saw after the miscarriage had advised me to put everything in a box to look at when I needed to, but not to look at it day in and day out.

  I put the picture and the envelope in the drawer and closed it. It was ironic that those two items were stashed away together. I had lost my baby and my marriage in a matter of two days. It had been the worst week of my life.

  “How did it go?” Kali asked, coming into the office.

  I checked the security monitor and saw the customers had already left. The store was empty.

  “He didn’t show.”

  “What?” she said in shock.

  I shrugged a shoulder and feigned indifference. “Nope. Didn’t even bother to show up. I guess that means he’s fine with the division of assets. I was expecting a fight, but clearly he is ready to move on. I should be happy about it all. That’s what my lawyer says. The paperwork is finalized. Now we wait for the judge to sign off and it’s all over.”

  “Wow.”

  I laughed. “Yes, wow. I’m happy. I really am, but I think I’m in shock. I’m a divorcée. I’m single. It feels weird to say that after being with one man for so long.”

  “I say good riddance. He was a dick. Any man that cheats on you must be an idiot,” she said. “You are going to find a good man who will take care of you and treat you right.”

  “I think I’ll wait on finding another man. I’m glad it’s over.”

  “Aw, don’t let him destroy the idea of love for you. There are some great guys out there. The hard part is finding them,” she said.

  “I don’t know if I can ever trust another man. I mean, aren’t wives supposed to know when their husbands cheat?”

  “I do
ubt that. If that were the case, the cheating would happen a lot less often. I’m glad you busted his scandalous ass,” she said, putting her hands on her hips, her elbows jutting out.

  “I don’t know how long it had been going on or how many women he had been with before I finally did. But,” I said, raising my hands in surrender, “it isn’t my problem anymore.” I groaned, thinking about the whole situation. “I cannot believe he screwed those women on my bed!” I said for what was probably the millionth time.

  It grossed me out to think I had slept in the bed on the same sheets he had fucked one of his floozies on.

  I had come home from work early and found him in bed with a young woman who had turned out to be one of the many interns at his investment company. It was two days after I had found out I had miscarried our child. He had pretended to be sympathetic about the loss of our baby, but it had all been a lie. All of it. Our entire marriage had been a joke, which I didn’t realize until I walked in and saw him fucking her in my bed. The image was burned into my brain. The mattress had been tossed, and I’d incinerated the sheets on his grill on the balcony. It had been cathartic for about three minutes. Then it all hit me: I was alone.

  “So, are you going to do it?” Kali asked.

  I knew exactly what she was talking about. “Yep. I have my first appointment tomorrow.”

  “Really? Already!” she squealed and clapped her hands in joy. I wasn’t sure I shared that level of excitement, but I was happy to be in charge of my own fate.

  I smiled. “My biological clock is clanging in my head. If I want a baby, I need to take matters into my own hands. I am not going to risk waiting to find the perfect man. I don’t think that man exists, but I want a baby. I don’t need a man for that. Well, technically, but you know what I mean.”

  She nodded. “I think it’s brave. I am thrilled for you. I’ll be more than happy to help you in any way I can. You deserve to be happy. I am so sorry Mitchel turned out to be such a horrible human being.”

  “Me too, but he is not the first man to cheat. I should have known, and maybe I did. I think I thought getting pregnant would somehow reel him in and make him love me again. He didn’t want kids. I mean, he said he did, but he didn’t. Kids would get in the way of his womanizing,” I said, looking at the floor.

  A beeping sound alerted us to the front door opening and a customer coming in.

  “I’ll get it,” Kali said when I moved to stand up. “Relax.”

  “Thank you.”

  Artificial insemination was my last hope for having a baby. There was a facility nearby, which worked out great. I could go in for my treatments and then go right to work. My entire life was centered in a twelve-block radius, but I didn’t mind a bit. It was my village. Getting an appointment at the clinic had been nothing short of a miracle. Thankfully, my ob-gyn had been able to pull some strings and I’d gotten right in. I knew other people waited for months. My doctor insisted I was fertile and perfectly healthy. The miscarriage had been one of those things she’d assured me was far more common than most people knew.

  The door alarm rang a few more times but Kali was busy with the first customer. I walked out onto the floor, my best smile in place, and greeted the new customers.

  “Hi,” I said, walking up to the woman who looked ready to deliver any day.

  “Oh, hi. I’m hoping you have what I need,” she said, slightly flustered. “I heard you carried organic cotton onesies. Please tell me you do. My mother-in-law says I have to use only that kind. I bought all the wrong ones.” She was on the verge of a panic attack.

  I smiled to reassure her. “Yes, we do have those. Right over here.” I led her to the shelf with the onesies.

  “Thank you! I had no idea about the dangers of the other kind. The woman acted like I was going to paint the baby with acid.”

  I laughed. “While I think these particular baby clothes are better, I don’t see any harm in using the other kind. Millions of babies have managed just fine,” I assured her.

  “Thank you. I am a nervous wreck already, and that woman is making me crazy.”

  I laughed, but it was fake. I wouldn’t have to worry about a mother-in-law mommy-shaming me. If the artificial insemination worked, it would be me alone making the decisions about what my baby ate, wore, and everything else. That was a good and bad thing. I knew it would be tough, but I also knew with every fiber of my being that I wanted a baby.

  I helped the woman pick out a few more items and then rang up the sale. She looked far more relaxed than when she had come through the door.

  “Have a nice day, and enjoy your precious baby,” I told her as she left the store.

  I watched as she waddled out the door and took comfort in knowing I had helped give her a little peace of mind at a time when she was feeling anything but calm. I envied the pregnant women who shopped in my store. Hopefully one day, I would get to experience that same joy. For now, I would rely on their happiness to keep me going.

  Their happiness and the hope the artificial insemination would work and one day I would be shopping in my boutique for my own baby. The thought made me smile. I could almost feel the weight of my child in my arms. By this time next year, I hoped my dream to be a mother would come true.

  Chapter 2

  Mason

  “Doctor Chambers?” my head nurse, Junie, said, knocking on my closed office door.

  “Come in, Junie.”

  “Your first patient is here.”

  “Okay. Let me pull her file and I’ll be right out,” I told her.

  I closed the chart of another patient I was reviewing and pulled open my calendar on the computer desktop. I clicked the timeslot and stared at the name. It was familiar. I did a mental scan of my brain, and my eyes widened as I read the specifics in the chart.

  It couldn’t be the same Lara I had known all those years ago. I thought Brian’s sister had married some guy with the last name Brown, but I imagined it was a fairly common name. This was a big city and an even bigger world. There was no way this could be the Lara McCall who had stolen my heart twenty years ago.

  I reviewed the chart and realized her story wasn’t so different than the hundreds of other women who came into my clinic. She wanted a baby without going the traditional route. Many women were choosing to skip the old-fashioned way of finding a man, marrying, and then having a baby. One client had told me she was only going to end up divorced and a single parent anyway, so why bother.

  Artificial insemination was the answer for women who wanted babies without the baby-daddy problem. I was more than happy to provide the service. My clinic was successful because we had some of the best people in the business working for us.

  I didn’t see anything in this woman’s chart that would be an issue. I was predicting she would be pregnant after the first or second insemination process. I grabbed the tablet we used to review charts and headed to the private room where the patient was waiting. We referred to these rooms as lounges. They were far more comfortable than a waiting room with prying eyes and nosey strangers.

  I knocked on the door before turning the handle and entering. When I walked inside, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was her. My heart did a crazy somersault in my chest that made me wonder if I was about to have a heart attack.

  “You!” we both said in unison.

  My mouth went dry as I drank in the sight of the woman. She looked the same in a lot of ways, but that youthful teenager was gone and in her place was a gorgeous woman. The woman in front of me had a profound sense of sadness cloaking her. It did little to diminish her beauty. Her long chestnut-brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail. Her face had only a touch of makeup. She wore a black shirt tucked into a pair of gray slacks. When she looked at me with those familiar brown eyes, I felt the years fade away. It was her. She had aged, but those dark brown eyes fanned by long black eyelashes were very familiar.

  “Lara?” I asked, but it was more than obvious it was Lara McCall, my best friend’s little s
ister.

  “Mason?” she asked at the same time.

  It was incredibly awkward. I was used to making women and their partners feel at ease. This was my turf. My office. Usually, I knew how to help people feel more relaxed when talking about something so private, but she was throwing me off.

  I sat down on the small couch she was occupying. This immediately put us on the same level. I made sure to keep a respectable distance.

  “Hi,” I said, starting the conversation over.

  “Hi,” she said with a wobble in her voice. “This is embarrassing.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m your doctor. Are you going to be okay with that? If not, I can assign someone else to your case,” I told her in a professional tone.

  “It’s fine. I was just, uh, surprised to see you. I didn’t realize you worked here.”

  I had to smile at that because I didn’t only work at the clinic. I was one of the owners. But I wasn’t going to correct her.

  “Yes. I’ve worked here for about four years now.”

  “Oh. I’m glad to see you have been so successful. How’ve you been?” she asked, more out of polite habit than genuine concern.

  “I’ve been well. You?”

  She gave me a tight smile. “I’ve been, uh, good.”

  She appeared uncomfortable, her hands fidgeting and her eyes downcast, and small talk wasn’t helping to ease her discomfort. I chose to get right down to business.

  “I’ve reviewed your chart and understand you want to undergo artificial insemination. Is that correct?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I believe that is the best option for me at this time.” Then she shut her mouth and didn’t elaborate.

  I wanted to ask her about twenty million questions, but I stopped myself. It was none of my business. She was here to have a baby. Alone, apparently. It was definitely not what I had imagined her future to be like, but I guessed none of us ended up with the future we’d thought we would have. Except for Brian. He had done well. He too was alone, but it didn’t seem to bother him.