Page 6 of Better Than Baby

“The neighbor on the corner painted his door a funky shade of yellow. I did a double take the other day and mentioned it to Aaron. He loves big colors. I was sure it was new, but no…turnsout it was done three or four months ago. I never noticed. I want to say that’s totally weird?—”

“But it’s not,” Curt finished for me. “I wouldn’t beat yourself up about it.”

“I know, but…” I squinted, my gaze focused on a bottle of Johnnie Walker on the glass shelf behind the bar. “I don’t want to be the guy who measures the success of a day by how much work I’ve accomplished. That’s depressing.”

“You don’t do that.”

I swiveled on my stool and leveled him with a mock-serious look. “Curt, it’s the brightest shade of yellow you’ve ever fucking seen. As in…no one could miss it. Aaron laughs every time we walk by now. ‘Oh, you mean that door, Matty?’ ”

Curt howled uproariously. “I’ve seen that door. I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

“You’veseen the door?”

He snort-laughed, clearly enjoying himself. “It’s like a beacon. Couldn’t miss it if I tried.”

“Hmph. Well, now I guess you know what I mean. I love my job. I just…don’t want it to define me. It was a big deal to me to make partner, but I think I’ve probably gone overboard trying to prove the firm made the right decision. Who knows if we’ll ever have kids. I like what I have now—an amazing sexy husband and a goofy-ass dog who reminds me to stop and smell the roses.”

“And notice your neighbor’s butt-ugly yellow door,” Curt added.

I tipped my bottle in a mock toast. “You know it.”

We snickered like a couple of loons, turning our attention to the basketball game on the flat-screen behind the bar and grumbled about the ref’s calls while sharing lawyerly gossip.

My phone buzzed just as I pulled my wallet out and handed a card to the bartender. I check the caller ID to be sure it wasn’t Aaron, then stuffed it into my pocket. It buzzed again.

“Do you need to get that?” Curt asked.

I signed my name on the receipt, put my credit card away, and slid off the barstool. “Nah, it’s not Aar. Whoever it is can leave a message.”

Curt followed me to the exit, giving my shoulder a friendly punch on the sidewalk. “Tell Murphy his uncles will be there this weekend with chewy toys and treats. I’ll text Aaron too since I know you have no clue whether or not you have plans.”

I flipped him off and headed for my BMW. “Later, Curtster.”

“Later. Hey, Matt.” He waited until I turned to continue. “Don’t give up. It’s not over yet.”

He was gone before I could reply.

Buzz buzz

I fished my cell from my pocket and aimed my key fob at my car. Another missed call, but whoever it was had left a message.

Hello Matt. My name is Belinda Arrelia. I’m with Joyful Beginnings Surrogacy Center, and I’ve got a match for you. A perfect match.

three

A perfect match.

Whoa.

I wasn’t sure what that meant.

We had fertilized eggs ready to go, so we needed someone we trusted to carry our baby for nine months. For our own sanity, we hoped our surrogate would take nutrition seriously. Obviously, she didn’t have to be a regular at her local gym, but our hypothetical kid deserved—well…the best. But I had to think that every prospective parent felt the same way.

“Maybe she’s queer,” Aaron suggested around his toothbrush, eyeing me in the bathroom mirror. “Not that it matters, but that would be cool.”

I rinsed and dried my mouth on my towel. “We’ll find out in the morning. C’mon, let’s get some sleep while we can. The monster is out cold.”

Aaron’s eyes sparked with amusement as he wandered to the crate in our room to check on Murphy.