Page 43 of Crazy Imperfect Hearts

By dawn, I’ve convinced myself I’m a lost cause. But then a revelation breaks through the dejection and I bolt up in bed with a renewed sense of excitement I haven’t felt in a long time.

Maybe having a wife was just a means of getting what I really want: a child. A son to play baseball with or a daughter who will have piano recitals. Maybe I can take a page out of Regan’s book and skip the partner, going straight to the one thing that really matters.

And then reality hits and my excitement wanes. It’s not as easy for a man. I can’t just go to a sperm bank, get some jizz, inject it inside me and—poof—nine months later I have a kid.

Surrogate.

The word rolls around in my head.

“It could work,” I say out loud.

I have money. A lot of it. That’s all it really takes.

I hop out of bed, do a little research on the internet, and write down a plan. I jot things down on Post-it notes and arrange them in order of priority. I make a list, then another, of all the things I’d have to do to make this happen. I laugh, wondering if Regan did the same, but I know she didn’t. That woman’s lists consist of chicken scratches on napkins.

Once again, I’m amused at how completely opposite we are.

I glance at the pieces of paper in my hand. The meticulously planned mission I’ve devised. And I rip it to shreds.

Then I dress quickly, get my keys, and race out the door.

Chapter Sixteen

Regan

The sound of pounding has me pulling a pillow over my head. Mr. Kastapulous at the hardware store I share a wall with must be doing some remodeling again.

The knocking noise doesn’t stop. It’s soon followed by someone shouting my name.

I push the pillow off my head and look at Joey, who seems annoyed as well. “He’s kidding, right?” Well, at least he had the decency to knock this time.

Rolling out of bed, I pull on a robe as I make my way to my front door and swing it open. “I’d give you points for persistence, but the answer is still no.”

When I shut the door, he jams his foot into it. Then he shoves a bag from my favorite bakery up to the crack. “Come on. I brought treats. And I promise I’ll keep all my clothes on.”

I put my eye to the door crack. “Bribing me with bear claws?”

“It’s not what you think. I have another proposition for you. A different one.”

Curious, I release my pressure on the door and swipe the bag. “This better come with coffee.”

I know it does, I could smell the magical elixir before I even saw the cups, but he holds them up proudly. “Straight from Ava’s.”

“She’s going to start questioning why you’re suddenly getting coffee at her place rather than the Starbucks closer to your apartment.”

“She already did. With a huge smile, I might add. You told her about my first proposition, didn’t you?”

“She’s one of my best friends.” I walk through to the kitchen and drop the bag of pastries on the table next to the brochures. “She doesn’t know everything, though.”

His eyebrow shoots up. “You haven’t told her about these?” He picks one up.

I shake my head. “I’m still trying to wrap my own mind around it. Besides, I don’t want anyone trying to talk me out of it like they tried to talk me out of… you.”

He laughs. “Good friends want you to make good decisions.”

“Are you saying you aren’t a good decision?”

He picks up the bag. “Donut?”

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