His Curvy Surrogate

By LizAnne Axtel

Can two would-be single parents embark on an amazing journey together?

 

Jaelyn Hulls has completed her second surrogate pregnancy. Longing to experience the joys and challenges of motherhood firsthand, she yearns for a child of her own. With nothing but dead-end relationships in her past, and no prospective father in her life, she plans a stay at White Fir Lodge to study her file of options and choose her baby's donor.

 

Fox Shipman, a successful and driven businessman, is determined to become a single father, free from the complications of clinging, status seeking women, and romantic entanglements. To guard his heart, he's arranged anonymous, casual meetings with possible surrogates on the neutral ground of White Fir Lodge.

When their paths cross, Jaelyn and Fox discover an unexpected instant connection. Is risking their hearts to these complex desires and conflicting visions of the future too risky or will these would-be single parents embark on this journey together?

 

Billionaire and surrogate

Vacation fling

Romance with all the feels.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dokopot Books
• Release date: Oct 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223812661

Book preview

one

Jaelyn

Ihaven’t paid much attention to the scenery during the drive up to White Fir Lodge. When the shuttle stops under a wide, shaded portico, I look up from the files in my lap and my mouth drops open. My friends told me the place was exclusive and fabulous when they handed me the reservation information. But this… goes far beyond fabulous.

The main building is nestled into the trees at the top of a rise. The main entry to the building is a combination of logs and stone, the perfect representation of what I imagine a lodge should be. Behind the peaked roof, the stone facade of four stories rises. I wonder if the balconies on the top two floors have an ocean view over the trees.

Stuffing the mess I’d made of the files into my large tote, I tip the driver and exit the custom van. The lodge staff already has my bags on a rolling cart—not that they need a whole cart for my two small suitcases. If it wasn’t for the possibility of a formal event while I’m here, I’d only be traveling with one. I’ve never needed a whole lot of stuff.

The porter escorts me to the check in desk where I’m welcomed by a young woman wearing a name tag with ‘Amy’ spelled out in block letters.

You’re in three-ten, she says with a smile as she hands me a keycard. Your balcony overlooks the pool and the starting point for our walking trails. Here’s a map of the lodge, a schedule of activities personalized for the length of your stay. Just call down to the desk to reserve a massage or any other activities. And here is your welcome to White Fir bag. If you have any questions or need anything, please don’t hesitate to call the desk.

I shove the papers into my purse and take the key. The welcome bag is a good quality cloth tote, and heavy. The places I usually stay might offer a cookie or a bottle of water as a welcome. If you’re lucky. I can’t wait to discover the goodies hidden by the green canvas. Lifting the bag higher, I try to peer inside while I follow the bellhop.

I discover one of those battery powered candles. What a fun idea for setting a mood without the danger of fire. Next my fingers brush against—

Oof.

While the lodge bag is crushed between me and the wide chest I just ran into, my tote falls and the files slide across the polished floor. Large hands land heavily on my shoulders to steady me as the man steps back. I stare at the movement of his throat as he swallows, then speaks, his deep voice rumbling through me.

Are you okay?

My face burns and I take a short backward step without looking up. I’m such a clutz. I…Yes, I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.

It feels like a caress when his hands slip away and something deep in my core comes alive.

I wasn’t paying attention either, he says and crouches. Let me help gather your things.

I stare down at a mass of disheveled light brown hair. No. That’s okay.

Lifting his head, he captures me with his gaze. The sunlight streaming into the lobby makes the bright blue of his eyes sparkle. Sexual awareness shoots through me. Whatever thoughts I have disappear when his full lips surrounded by a scruff of beard curve into a smile. Like he knows what he’s doing to my libido. I insist.

He can insist on anything and I’m pretty sure at that moment I’ll say yes. I take a step back and watch the movements of his arms and shoulders as he stretches for my scattered belongings. His soft cotton tee conforms to his muscles and I swear my mouth waters. Thankfully I’m able to swallow and contain my desire by the time he stands.

He straightens the pile of papers then holds them out to me. Here you go, Miss… uh.

When he simply stares at me with slightly arched brows, I belatedly realize he’s asking for my name. Jaelyn.

I think I got all of your papers, Jaelyn.

The way he draws out the first syllable of my name is like a caress, the effect nearly as physical as when he held my shoulders. I shift under his perusal and slightly cross one foot in front of the other to press my upper thighs together. My reply is breathy. Thank you…

Fox, he replies. Fox Shipman.

Thank you, Fox. An unusual name but I love the way it sounds, how it feels when I say it. There’s a distant ding from the elevator and I tear my gaze from his to discover the bellhop waiting patiently while the door opens, then closes. He grins, but otherwise shows no indication my delay in joining him is different than waiting for any other guest.

I’ve just checked in, I stammer.

I see that, Fox replies. He pauses a moment then speaks rapidly. Would you like to meet for a drink later? Once you’ve settled in?

He wants to meet me later? Me? I hadn’t made much in the way of plans for socializing during my stay. I’m here to decide on the sperm donor for my baby. Although, spending time with this gorgeous man wouldn’t be difficult.

I realize he’s still holding my files—the pages filled with information about the final seven candidates. I snatch them from his fingers and stuff them into my bag. Surprise widens his eyes at what has to be a social blunder. I smile to cover my nerves. Thank you again for picking up after me.

No problem.

Yes.

His light brows draw together. Yes?

Those damn nerves make me giggle and I hope he isn’t rethinking his offer. Uh, yes, I’d love a drink later.

His expression brightens. Great. How about the poolside bar at six?

That gives me plenty of time to settle in and fuss over my wardrobe. I’ve got that one dress, but everything else in my luggage is casual. A poolside bar would be casual, wouldn’t it? I nod. Perfect.

Silently staring at each other, we stand in the middle of the lobby. The elevator dings. I blink and glance over my shoulder. Oh, I’d better go. I’ll… see you later?

Until then, Jaelyn.

I turn and rush into the open elevator. The bellhop follows, pushes the button to close the door. Fox catches and holds my gaze, but he’s just far enough away I can’t accurately read his expression. I bite my lip to hold back the odd denial as the doors silently slide together, blocking my view.

The bellhop chatters on about the lodge amenities, but I’m barely listening. Once my bags are deposited on the room’s luggage rack and the young man happily pockets his tip, I move to the wide window and look out over the pool area and the neighboring bar. Literally running into Fox opened my imagination to a world of possibilities. The fact he actually asked me out for a drink makes some of those possibilities possible.

Maybe a vacation fling is just what I need before I settle on a sperm donor and begin the process to become a mother. Fox Shipman might be the perfect distraction.

two

Fox

The elevator doors close hiding a goddess from me and I stand there far too long watching the shiny doors, hoping they’ll open and return her to me. But when the doors next slide away, an elderly couple emerge, the woman chattering happily to her smiling husband. I wonder how long they’ve been together then shake my head at the folly.

Despite the aura of lengthy togetherness surrounding their interactions, I don’t believe in lasting love. My mother’s grand romance ended in my birth and a husband who disappeared. The only