The Baby Bargain

He managed to engender a perfectly nasty coil of guilt that zinged through her middle.

She gave him the slit-eyed look that worked great on Liberty’s cat when it looked as if it was going to jump onto the dining table, a place it had no business going. “I don’t like the way you worked that out. This afternoon was not personal. At all. I know the needs of our clients, because I understand their concerns. I was speaking from that vantage point.”

Uncrossing his considerably long legs, LJ Logan planted his expensively shod feet squarely on her porch and rested his elbows on his knees. “Want to know what my vantage point is? Are you interested in my motivation?”

His voice remained low and almost melodious, but challenge lit his blue eyes. He was intelligent, energetic. Opinionated. But perhaps not as arrogant as she’d believed earlier. Perhaps. As they locked gazes, she was fairly certain she saw a request in his eyes, rather than a demand.

“Yes, I’m interested in your motivation.”

A flicker of surprise yielded to a smile. “I don’t believe in resting on my laurels, Eden. I study the most current research in my field, and it tells me consumers—people— give their trust and their money to the businesses they believe will make them feel good. Doesn’t matter what kind of business we’re talking about. Everyone wants someone to make his or her choices, his or her life easier. Yes, the woman in the commercial looked happy, healthy—”

“With a great hairdresser.”

“She looked good, because advertising works when it makes the consumer believe you have what they want.”

“Studies tell you this?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I don’t know about your studies. I’m a doula. I coach women through labor and I run the new single moms’ group at the Children’s Connection. The women I work with are worried about fluctuating hormones and how to find trustworthy, affordable child care on a single person’s income. They’re mighty concerned about having to go back to work on four hours of sleep a night. Their challenges will not be appeased by a thirty-second sound bite, and I would hate to have them assume we don’t understand their struggles. Or that we think their journeys will be smooth sailing once they choose our clinic. That’s a lie.”

The edge of LJ’s smile twitched with the effort to maintain it. “I’m not suggesting we lie to anyone. But we’re not going to draw new clients to the Children’s Connection by enumerating all the gory details of parenthood.”

The gory details?

Why hadn’t the Logans hired someone who understood the desire for children? Someone who valued family? LJ’s blood connection to the other Logans was not reason enough to put all their fates—those of their past, current and future clients, too—into his hands.

“I was drawn by the center’s forthrightness,” she told him. “Even forthrightness about the mistakes that have been made.”

“Kidnappings? Mix-ups in the sperm bank? Rumors of a black-market baby ring?” Emphatically, he shook his head. “The public doesn’t need to be reminded about those matters. They’re thinking about them already. That’s why I’m here—to make them think about something else.”

“The Children’s Connection took responsibility wherever they were culpable. The way to calm doubts is to address allegations, not gloss over them.”

They both sat on the edge of their seats now leaning over their legs. Eden enjoyed the opportunity to say exactly what she thought to this supremely confident businessman. He didn’t seem to mind mixing it up with her, either.

“Fine. I understand your point of view, Eden, but—and I don’t mean this in a condescending way—you’re an employee who uses the day care center. The need for additional comfort and positive imaging will be far greater for single women who come to the center to find…” He frowned, losing momentum as he searched for a word. “When they need, uhh…”

Eden frowned, not knowing at first what LJ was trying to say. “Single women who need…?” She shook her head.

And then she understood.

“Oh, my God. Sperm?” She started to smile. “Are you trying to say ‘sperm’? ‘A single woman who comes to the center to find a sperm donor’? It’s okay. I know that word.”

“Obviously.” Handsomely flushing because he hadn’t said it, LJ straightened then leaned back in the chair. “You won’t tell me how long you’ve been single, you refuse to use my first name, but you can say ‘sperm’ three times in two sentences?”

Eden tilted her head, pondering the thought. “It is ironic, isn’t it?” She picked up her glass and swirled the iced tea. “Then again, I do work in a clinic that offers alternative insemination. A man’s contributions to the process isn’t something we romanticize.”

“That information should render every man in Portland impotent,” he grumbled, crossing his legs. The action looked so self-protective Eden nearly spewed her sip of iced tea.

LJ watched her. The smile she’d withheld from him before emerged freely now as she laughed. Her impossibly thick hair brushed her shoulders. Everything about her was generous—eyes, nose, lips and shoulders as gorgeously round and curving as her bosom.

He certainly didn’t consider himself old fashioned, but he couldn’t comfortably discuss sperm with a woman whose presence reminded him of sex every time he looked at her. So sue him.

Why was he here, anyway? He wasn’t convincing her of a thing.

Mystified, he shook his head. It wasn’t like him to chase after approval. And, really, he didn’t need hers. It would make his job easier, yes, but he didn’t need it. He should leave.

“What is it about you?”

She blinked the huge, heavily lashed blue eyes he kept losing his way in. “What do you mean?”

“I want you to support my plan for the Children’s Connection. I’m not sure why.”

His candor threw her off, which afforded some satisfaction. His ego had taken a bruising with her.

After a pause during which her brows almost touched, she repeated the reason he’d offered earlier. “Because you like me.”

“I guess I must,” he murmured.

LJ had studied body language in his determination to be the best salesman of his business. A firm, well-grounded stance communicated confidence, strength and assurance. He never fidgeted. Except now.

Moving to the edge of his seat again, even though he’d just relaxed back, he searched her baby-blue eyes. “How long have you been single?” he asked quietly.

Her full lips parted. Her breath quickened. Just a bit, but he noticed.

“What does this have to do with business?”

“Absolutely nothing. How long?”

If she’d chosen not to answer, he wouldn’t have been surprised. He was beyond pleased when she did.

“I’ve never been married, Mr. Logan.”

“LJ,” he corrected calmly. “Is your son—Liam, isn’t it?” She nodded, still wary. “Is Liam’s father involved in his life? Or are you truly flying solo?”

Her breath had been shallow. Now she released a long sigh. “I’m truly flying solo. But I knew I would be. I planned for it. When I say single parenthood is difficult, I’m not complaining. It’s simply a fact.”

“Why did you plan for it?” His frown moved from the inside out. “Did the father walk out while you were pregnant?” He’d never had children and never intended to. The thought that she’d been left high and dry by someone she’d trusted annoyed the hell out of him. He’d long ago given up unprotected sex. As he saw it, no one in any relationship should enjoy that privilege if he didn’t plan to stick around for the consequences.

Her long hair swung as she shook her head. “Nobody walked out. I told you, I don’t just work at the Children’s Connection. I’ve used their services.”

It took a moment to compute that properly. She’d already mentioned that she had Liam in the child care center. The Children’s Connection also had an adoption division. But except for darker, curlier hair, the baby looked just like her. So that left—

Holy—

“It’s impolite to look shocked when you realize someone has used a sperm bank,” she reprimanded with that honeyed twang.

“Too bad. That’s the only look I have at the moment.”

Dimples appeared in her cheeks. “Honestly, I don’t know whether to laugh or rap you on the knuckles. You are going to promote an agency that specializes in alternatives to traditional pregnancy. You cannot look shocked every time you meet one of our mothers.”

“I won’t look shocked every time. I’m shocked now because you’re young. Not a victim of the biological clock. And you’re objectively attractive to men. It’s hard for me to believe you couldn’t find someone with whom to start a family. And now I think you’re blushing, but it’s getting dark, so I can’t quite tell.”

She lowered her head, allowing her hair to fall into her face for a few moments before she raked it back with her fingers.

“Do you say everything that’s on your mind?” she demanded.

“Of course not.” He brushed aside the idea. “I’m in public relations. Discreet is my middle name. Do you know who your sperm donor was?”

“Mr. Logan!”

“LJ.”

Eden was blushing, right down to her toes. She felt heat surging, well, pretty much everywhere.

Before she’d decided to pursue alternative insemination, she hadn’t had a steady relationship in almost a year. She certainly hadn’t had a relationship since, so that put her in the middle of a two-year dry spell.

The truth was she didn’t miss any specific person with whom she’d been in involved. What she missed was the idea of someone, all the terrific fantasies she used to build up during the honeymoon phase.

But “forever” had remained for her nothing more than an increasingly uncomfortable yearning. Finally, she’d decided that the hunt for happily-ever-after was like looking for the lost city of Atlantis.

The truth was that she was better, calmer, steadier without all the drama.

As for sex, at first she’d only missed it every now and again.

Then she’d pursued alternative insemination and gotten pregnant with Liam, and her hormones had gone haywire. She’d experienced the normal rise in libido during pregnancy, with unfortunately no one to help her exercise it.

Mothers with partners complained all the time about lack of desire and about their significant others’ frustration with a greatly reduced sex life.

In a seriously ironic twist, Eden found herself still highly charged after childbirth. Hormones. Couldn’t live with them, couldn’t live without them.

She was certain her hormones were at least partly responsible for the fact that she was attracted to LJ Logan.

True, he was handsome, had a sense of humor and a way of staring at her that made her skin feel hot and goose bumpy at the same time. But he was also impertinent, a little arrogant and very single-minded.

He really annoyed her.

When she wasn’t completely turned on.

“Of course I know who the sperm donor was,” she said, not sure why she’d decided to answer, except that she didn’t want him to think that either she or the Children’s Connection were irresponsible. “I chose him.”

He pondered that awhile. “I want to know more. Like why you chose a donor instead of the real thing.”

“I got the ‘real thing,’” she countered. “Without unnecessary complications.”

A smile eased across his face. “You consider sex an unnecessary complication?”

Yes. No. “I wasn’t referring to sex.”

He grinned. “Answer, anyway.”

He was flirting with her, no question, but the flirtation was playful. Because her heart skipped several times, she answered honestly to eliminate any notion that she might be waiting for a man.

“Yes. Okay. Sex is a complication. Relationships in general are a complication.”

If she was expecting an argument, she was mistaken.

He spread his arms in a gesture that said, “See? We agree.”

He might have elaborated, but Liam didn’t give him the chance. The baby started bawling, the quality of the cry suggesting he’d had a bad dream or was wet. Eden jumped up. More slowly, LJ rose also.

They stared at each other, neither moving until Liam cried louder.

“I’d better go.” This time they both spoke at once.

Eden did her best to ignore the foolish side of her that felt disappointed. Instead, she nodded. “Thank you for dropping by,” she said perfunctorily, figuring that if he’d driven all the way out here to secure her support he was leaving disappointed, so she ought to at least be polite.

He opened the screen door for her, a chivalrous move that surprised her. She hadn’t seen a man move that swiftly to open a door he didn’t intend to walk through himself since she’d left Kentucky.

A hiccupping cry from her baby had her muttering, “Thanks,” and heading inside, leaving LJ Logan to do…whatever LJ Logan did with his evenings.

“He’s dry and doesn’t want his teether. Must have had a bad dream, poor little guy.” Cradling the baby, Liberty greeted Eden at the door to the bedroom Eden shared with her son.

She’d positioned the chair by a window to take advantage of silver moonlight when she nursed late at night and it seemed that she and Liam were the only people awake in the world.

“Do you want the Boppy?” Liberty asked. Eden nodded and Liberty placed a sturdy crescent-shaped pillow on her friend’s lap.

Settling Liam atop the Boppy, Eden raised the T-shirt she’d changed into after work, deftly released the flap on her nursing bra and urged her fussing son to nurse himself back to sleep.

Liberty sighed. “Have I ever told you how jealous I am?”

Eden glanced up in surprise. “What? In the past thirty minutes you’ve decided you want kids?”

“No. I want bodacious boobs.” She glanced at her own modest breasts and sighed again. “You think you’ll get to keep yours when you stop breast feeding?”

Too preoccupied by the conversation on the porch to smile, Eden answered distractedly. “I don’t know. If they’re a package deal with my new hips, I’ll pass.”

“Don’t be silly. You look like Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. Men love that.”

“Sure. Men born in 1932.” Leaning her head against the cushioned back of the chair, she rocked gently. “Did you catch anything that was said on the porch, or were you in the back of the house?”

“Are you kidding?” Liberty plopped herself onto the bed. “The front door was open, so I sat on the couch and listened to everything.”

“What about studying for your tests?”

“Oh, I learned plenty.” She raised dark brows and swiveled in her chair.

Eden rolled her eyes. “Meaning? Or shouldn’t I ask?”

“Meaning—” Liberty put her legs on the bed and crossed them beneath her “—that the two of you were doing a verbal dance that makes salsa look slow.”

“I wasn’t!” Eden protested.

“Oh, no? You want to tell me you weren’t even a little hot and bothered over the boy?”

“Please.” Eden rolled her head against the cushion. “I’m hot and bothered over everything lately.”

“Still?”

Eden nodded. “Ironic, isn’t it? I wouldn’t do a thing about it now, not with Liam. Anyway, this is generic hot and botheredness. It’s not about an individual. I’m going to see my doctor and tell her my hormones are still in an uproar.”

“What? And ruin a perfectly good libido? Why not take advantage of it? You’ve been living like a nun for, what? Two years?”

“I like living this way. It keeps me sane. And I’m certainly not going to drag Liam through a series of boyfriend experiments. Romance is absolutely not my priority.”

“Who said anything about romance?” Liberty grabbed a pillow, placed it on her lap and rested her elbows on it. “You forget that I sing the same song. I’m not in the market for marriage any more than you are. But we’re young. Don’t you want sex at least once more before you give it up in the interest of motherhood?”

Eden considered the question seriously. “Honestly? Looking back, I’ve always thought relationships were more bother than the sex was worth.”

“That’s not good.” Liberty looked thoughtful. “The big difference between you and me is that you’ve always had expectations, and I never have. Trust me, sex is much better when you don’t care if Mr. Right Tonight is still with you in the morning.”

“Hmm.” Eden didn’t completely discount what her friend had to say, but neither did she believe she had the right temperament for a one-night stand. In the past, her temporary liaisons had been flops. She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because with Liam—”

“Liam is a baby, who won’t have any idea what you’re doing right now. That makes this the perfect time to take advantage of your new—and possibly temporary—libido. Your son will never have to know. You deserve great sex before you turn celibate until his high-school graduation. It’s empowering.”

“It’s complicated. First I’d have to find someone.” She shook her head, swirling a finger through one of Liam’s curls. “Nope, I’ll be better off getting my hormones under control so I won’t feel like turning into the parking lot every time I drive by a sex shop.”

She raised her head to grin…and looked into the startled face of LJ Logan.

Chapter Four

His gaze drifted to Liam’s downy head and her, uh, bodacious bosom.

When he cleared his throat, he sounded as awkward as she felt. “Excuse me. I, uh, wanted to let you know I put our glasses…the ones we drank from…in the…” He pointed in the correct direction, but couldn’t find the word for the room. “Uh…”

“Kitchen?” Liberty supplied.

He had to think about it. “Yes. And then I was just going to say…”

“Goodbye?” she filled in again.

He nodded. “Right. Goodbye. Again.”

Eden closed her eyes. “Just tell me one thing. Are you staring because you’ve caught me breast feeding or because you heard what we were talking about?” Might as well know right up front how embarrassed she ought to be.

“I would say…both.”

Embarrassment engulfed the trio—or at least two out of three—and silence reigned until Liberty tossed her pillow aside, stretched her legs then slapped both hands on her thighs.

“Well! Seems like a terrible time for me to leave, doesn’t it?” She stood and looked cheerfully between Eden and LJ. “I’m heading to First Cup for a double shot. Maybe you two will still be here when I get back.” She considered them a moment. “Possibly even in the same positions. Can I bring you anything? Latte? Chai? Iron supplement? You’re looking a little peaked. No? All righty.” She walked to the door, turned sideways to edge past LJ and whispered loudly to him in parting, “This isn’t that embarrassing, you know. You should laugh about it when I leave.”

Eden heard the scrape of her keys as she scooped them off the dining room table and then the creaky opening and closing of the screen door.

“I wonder why I didn’t hear it when you came in?” Eden murmured.

“Because I tried very hard to be quiet,” LJ responded. “I thought you’d gotten the baby back to sleep and didn’t want to wake him.”

His gaze began to drift lower again until he jerked it back up. Somehow his discomfort began to lessen hers.

“Is this the first time you’ve seen a woman breastfeed?” It seemed unlikely in this day and age, but he tugged on his loose tie as if he felt a bit choked.

“It’s not the first time I’ve seen it. It’s the first time I’ve watched.”

Eden felt another blush coming on, then reminded herself she was a doula, for pity’s sake. A woman’s body and the way it operated before, during and after pregnancy was her area of expertise. Breast feeding was more natural than nine-tenths of the things people did in public. She’d breastfed comfortably and inconspicuously in her doctor’s office, in a restaurant booth and, once, in a cozy chair tucked into a corner of the public library.

And now she really needed to change breasts. She gave herself a quick pop quiz. Multiple choice.

When confronted by a gorgeous man watching you breastfeed, do you:

A) Cover yourself and tell him to scram?

B) Continue to breastfeed, but drape yourself with diapers, baby blanket and, if available, a pup tent?

C) Pause to call the La Leche League and ask someone there for emergency advice? Or,

D) Behave as the mature, self-actualized woman you are and proceed with confidence?

She chose D.

Fortunately, she had large hands for a woman, which facilitated holding and maneuvering Liam securely.

Offering Liam a little encouragement to detach from her right breast, she let him rest atop the Boppy while she refastened her bra and allowed the T-shirt to drop into place. Giving his belly a brief, loud nuzzle as she transferred him to her left side, she settled him, lifted her T-shirt, unfastened the bra and kept her head down while she helped him latch on.

She didn’t have to look up to know LJ watched her every move. She felt his frank gaze.

“If you’re thinking about putting this in a commercial, forget about it.”

She spoke lightly, to relieve some of the tension. When no response came, she did glance up and found him staring at her rather solemnly. Their gazes locked and suddenly, shockingly, the silence didn’t seem unnatural at all.

Somewhere in Oregon, some poor shmuck is missing this moment.

That was LJ’s uncensored thought as he watched Eden nuzzle her baby, put him against her breast and gently, gently twirl a finger through his baby curls. It was a surprising thought from a man who didn’t want kids, but he figured that anyone out there in the world who had one sure as hell ought to witness this.

I really should put this in the commercial. No one would think of Robbie Logan or lawsuits or scandals while they’re watching Eden. He’d never seen anything so perfectly natural, so quintessentially pure and female in all his life.

“Ow!” Eden jumped and pulled her son away from her bosom. “No biting!” She continued to cradle him, but LJ saw her eyes water. “He’s getting teeth,” she explained, “so he likes to experiment.”

LJ winced on her behalf. Then, without thinking at all—if he had, he never would have made the move—he stepped closer, reached for the baby and lifted him to eye level. “Looks like you’re going to need a lesson or two in how to treat your mother, my friend.”

It occurred to LJ belatedly that he could have instigated quite a scene, but Liam didn’t cry. His chubby hands reached for LJ’s nose, his chubby feet kicked merrily at LJ’s chest, and his cheeks dimpled as he grinned.

The baby certainly had her eyes and nose, but not her hair. LJ looked around Liam’s squirming body. “Do you have a freckle on your neck, too?”

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