Page 18 of Claimed By the Cowboys

“Piper, I swear to God…”

“Fine!” I burst out. I shut my eyes, so I don’t have to look at her. “I might have asked the guys to help get me pregnant, and they might have said yes!”

Blaire goes quiet. Too quiet.

I open an eye, looking at her with hesitation. The pinch of worry between her eyebrows is more than terrifying.

Blaire takes a huge breath. “Like, are you going to have sex, or…”

“I don’t know,” I squeak. “We didn’t really talk about it yet.”

“What do you want?”

I was afraid she’d ask that.

“Um. I’m not sure?”

Blaire settles back on the screen. I can see the camper’s big picture window from behind her. I don’t even know where she is right now in the world, only that she’s got Wi-Fi and time to burn, apparently.

“What do you mean you’re not sure?”

“Well,” I start, picking at the carrot seedlings that I’m thinning out, “I think there are a couple of options. And at least two of them don’t involve sex.”

“Like, artificial insemination?” Blaire makes a face on the screen. “For some reason, all I can think of is like… bulls.”

“Ew,” I whisper. But she’s not wrong. Bulls and horses are often bred via artificial methods because it’s a lot less risky than having a champion bloodline female be hurt by one of the enthusiastic suitors. And it’s usually a guarantee for a baby.

“Logically, I know plenty of humans are made that way, too, but it sounds a little… not as fun, don’t you think?”

“Not as fun might be good,” I say softly.

Blaire sighs. “Look, I’m not one to tell you what to do.”

The sentiment makes me perk up. Usually, Blaire does try to tell me what to do. After our parents died, and our grandparents were pretty aloof, she decided that her entire purpose on the earth was toTell Piper What to Do, and this feels… good.

I asked her to butt out of my business a while ago. And I think right now, I might be asking her to butt back in. Maybe not to tell me what to do, but some advice would be nice.

“Think about it, Pipes. They’ve known you for approximately forever. These are your best friends that we’re talking about here. You want to have a baby with them, and you’re just going to… do it in a test tube?”

I think of the nurse’s phone call.Egg quality.

“That might be the only option,” I say sadly.

Blaire’s body language shifts. “Piper. Is there something else you want to tell me?”

“I got some fertility testing done. Right now, they say I’m good, but they did say they had some concerns about… egg quality. It needs more testing.”

“Egg quality,” she echoes.

“I know.” I wrinkle my nose. “Again. I’m used to talking about that when it comes to chickens. Not… myself,” I say, cradling my stomach.

Blaire makes a sound. “You know that if you needed it, I’d give you one of my eggs.”

“Are they high quality?” I look up to ask.

She gives me a rueful grin. “No idea. But I could find out if you want.”

“Thanks, B,” I murmur, my hand on my stomach again. “But I want to at least try on my own.”

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