The Movie Star's Designer Baby: A BWWM Pregnancy Romance (3 page)

“I’ll take it from here,” said Derrick, rousing Lex. “Now you get home and get some sleep. You think Sugar’ll be okay for the night?”

“Oh sure,” said Lex, “I gave her some oats and molasses. She’ll wake up in the morning like nothing happened.”

“Hopefully she takes this little guy back,” said Derrick, worried.

“She will,” said Lex confidently, “she’s a good mom.”

After Lex had gone, Derrick poured himself a cup of Gladys’s tea and cozied up to the fire beside the calf, again offering it the bottle. The calf obliged, but soon fell asleep mid-suckle. Now that his heart rate had a chance to slow down, Derrick found his thoughts wandering again to the perfect
-
mother
-
search. The adventure with Sugar and his calf had opened Derrick’s eyes to the fact that a baby needed a mother to care for him and keep him safe. Would a father alone be able to fit the bill? Maybe he should hold off awhile. Exhausted, Derrick fell asleep thinking about a babies.

He awoke sometime after two in the morning. The fire had died down to embers and the calf was nowhere to be seen. Then Derrick heard a noise coming from his study off the den. He went to investigate and was greeted by the calf, alive and well and blinking in the light Derrick had just switched on. The calf bleated in greeting and walked up to Derrick, nuzzling his hand.

“Well you look like you’re feeling better,” said Derrick as the calf took his thumb in its mouth and tried to suck milk from it. “And hungry too, by the looks of it. That’s a good sign.”

Derrick bent to pick up the calf, but what he saw beneath it made him pause. He gently moved the animal aside to see the stack of papers below: the applications that had fallen to the floor earlier when Benny had rushed in. There on top of the pile was the photograph of a stunning black woman. Her green eyes were tilted slightly at the corners, giving her an exotic and quirky look. She had long, full hair and high cheekbones, but the best part was her smile. Not only was it toothpaste-add perfect, but it was
inviting
. It was a smile that made a person feel comfortable and loved, one that would make a man feel like the king of the world when it was turned on him. It wasn’t faked, or posed for glamour; it was genuine, full of happiness and good humor. He thought that whoever had taken it was obviously someone the woman loved. He imagined that smile looking down at a newborn baby. She was the one, Derrick knew it in an instant. He flipped the picture over to look at the name beneath: Gracie Johnston. 

Chapter Three

It was late afternoon when Gracie’s plane touched down on the tarmac on southwestern Montana. The sun was beginning to set, lighting the horizon ablaze with reds, pinks, and oranges. Gracie imagined the fire burning in her belly looking quite the same. It felt partway butterflies, and partway indigestion. She gathered her single duffel bag- a minimalist a heart, Gracie was never one to over pack, especially when she would only be staying for the weekend
,
and exited the plane. Stepping down onto the tarmac she was immediately greeted by a man in a dark suit and
chauffeur's
hat.

“Gracie Johnston?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s me,” she said, surprised. “How did you know?”

The
chauffeur
laughed. “It wasn’t hard.” Gracie glanced around. Of the sixty some passengers she was the only black woman. This was, after all, the northwest territory, not Compton. “Plus, I have a photo,” he added, holding up the shot Nana had taken of her for the application. “Though I have to say, it was hard prying it away from Mr. Stone.”

That was a good sign, Gracie supposed. “Well, now he’s got the real thing.”

The
chauffeur
laughed at that. She was beginning to find him quite likeable, and hoped that geniality reflected on his employer as well. “I’m George Jones,” he said, “like the country singer, though I can’t carry a tune half as well.”

Gracie had never heard of George Jones before, but she smiled and held out her hand, “Nice to meet you, George.”

George took her bag and led her to a sleek black limousine parked just off the concourse.
Plane-side
service
, Gracie though.
Impressive
. Unlike an airplane, Gracie
had
been in a limo before. For senior prom; her, Becca, and a group of other single girlfriends had decided to splurge on the princess treatment. That limo had smelled of stale cigars and the leather seats had seen better days. This one, however, appeared off-the-line new. It was large enough to fit six people comfortably, and came equipped with a telephone, laptop port, 14” television, and wet bar. Helping Gracie in, George offered her a glass of champagne.

Why not?
She thought.
Might help with the nerves.

Gracie wasn’t a big drinker. Never had been. At that very same prom she had been the sober friend who had ended up holding Becca’s hair while she puked, and rescuing their friend Crystal from making a serious mistake with a varsity lineman. She knew that drinking was a no-no during pregnancy, and wondered what the rule was on conception.
Conception
. The very thought made her take a big swig of the sweet, bubbly liquid.  She couldn’t help feeling like
Pretty Woman
, a simple country girl being escorted in a private car to pay a call on a mysterious millionaire. For sex, essentially, though the sex wasn’t the main operative, it was only a means to an end.

She’d been telling herself that for months now. Only a means to an end, not prostitution, and certainly not romance. She had tried to get herself in the mindset that she and Derrick Stone were just animals, two organisms that must come together to meet an intended purpose. It was biology at its most simple form, that natural selection thing Darwin had been spouting off about for years. In order to pass down desirable traits and ensure the survival of the species, male and female organisms had to copulate. Darwin had been talking about apes but the outcome was still the same. Humans were just the only ones who put an unnecessary emphasis on the sex part. The key was to look at it in a strictly scientific way. She had, after all, been a biologist before embarking on the lucrative career of waitressing. Forget about Derrick Stone being a handsome millionaire movie star; he was just an animal like everyone else.

“So George,” Gracie called through the open divider window,
“
what’s the scoop on Derrick Stone?”

“Derrick? He’s a great guy,” George answered emphatically. “The best. I got a buddy who drives for Rocky Lockridge, you know the hunky guy from that NBC show
Space Police
? Says he’s a real jerk. Treats all his employees like the mud that got stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Not Mr. Stone though. He’ll just as likely have a beer with you as ask you to deliver his dry cleaning.” As if sensing her nervousness he added, “You got nothing to worry about.”

“You know why I’m here then?”

“Nope. I don’t ask Mr. Stone’s business, I just do it.”

That was a relief. So maybe the people at Stone’s ranch wouldn’t look at her as the baby-maker. Maybe she could pass as an old friend.

As they passed under the massive oak sign that read
Slow Hand Ranch
, Gracie’s butterflies began to dissipate. Maybe it was the champagne. Or maybe it was the down-home cozy look of the place. She had been expecting a giant timbered mansion like you see on
Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous
, with two separate wings, a glassed-in pool, and maybe a fountain out front. This was more like a log cabin. Large, yes, and obviously very nicely made, but still approachable. There was no swimming pool in sight, and no fountain, though they did pass a large pond on the way up the drive.

When the limo pulled up to the front door a man in faded jeans, flannel shirt, and cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes came out the front door, followed closely by a small boy and an energetic yellow dog. Stone had sent more employees to greet her? George came around the side of the limo and handed her out. Immediately the boy ran up to her. “Wow, you’re pretty!” he exclaimed, “Are you Miss Gracie?”

“Thank you!” Gracie laughed. “And yes, I am. Who might you be?”

“This little fella, who seems to have forgotten his manners for the moment, is Benny Mantle,” said the man, walking up and ruffling the boy’s hair. “Though I have to admit, he does have a point.”

Gracie looked up at the smiling man and realized with surprise that it was Derrick Stone himself, though looking quite a bit different than he did on the covers of
US Weekly
. Though he wasn’t wearing one of his signature tailored suits, he actually looked even more handsome in regular Joe clothes. He had a smile that needed no Photoshop touch-up to make it brilliant, and his hazel eyes twinkled merrily, with the beginnings of crow’s feet at the corners. Under the hat, his sandy blonde hair hung shaggy and natural as it did in most of his photos (though previously Gracie had always though that natural look was something that actually took hours in a stylist’s chair to accomplish).

“Mr. Stone, I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you!”

“That’s okay,” said Derrick, surprising her again by taking her up in a big bear hug. She felt sparks at the warmth of his body. “I’m probably not looking like you expected. But this is the country and here we like to be comfortable. Benny, why don’t you run down and get your dad. He’s been waiting to meet you, Gracie.”

Taking Gracie by the arm, he led her up to the house. “Benny’s a great kid. In fact, he’s part of the reason I want one of my own. He doesn’t know about our arrangement though. I just told him you were a new friend I’d met at a shoot in Virginia. I hope you don’t mind being in on my white lie.”

“Not at all,” said Gracie. “I can see how it would be hard to explain to a child. Honestly, I’ve sometimes had trouble explaining it to myself.”

Derrick stopped and turned to look her in the eyes. “You
are
comfortable with this, right? I have to admit, this is new to me too. But I don’t want you doing anything you don’t want to.”

Gracie was touched by his frankness. Already this man was not what she had expected from a Hollywood movie star. He wasn’t pushy or patronizing and he hadn’t thrown her over his shoulder and dragged her off to the bedroom. Already, Gracie didn’t think she’d mind if he did.

“No, no,” she said, “I’m fine. I’ve been mentally psyching myself up for months. It’s just that I didn’t expect you to be…”

“What? Drop dead gorgeous?” he joked.

“No,” she laughed, “that I expected. I guess I didn’t expect you to be…a real person.”

“Yep,” he said, tapping his chest, “blood, and bones, and everything. One hundred percent genuine American made.” Derrick opened the front door and motioned her into a large, open foyer dominated on one end by an oak staircase and on the other end by a gigantic stuffed bear. “That’s Fred,” Derrick said. “Don’t let him scare you. He came with the place; I can’t claim him for myself. I’m not half the marksman my movies portray me to be. Come on up, I’ll show you to your room.”

Up the stairs and at the second door on the right he stopped. The room hosted a four-poster bed made up of natural wooden beams and complete with a calico quilt, a dresser, wardrobe, and a big stone fireplace where there was already a fire waiting. It looked like a place where anyone would feel right at home. Gracie went in, placed her bag on the dresser, and stood by the bed, waiting to see what would happen next. Derrick followed her into the room, but he didn’t shut the door behind him.

This is it
, she thought.
Down to business. Let’s get this thing started.

Suddenly the butterflies sprang back to life as he approached her. But rather than throwing her down on the bed he gently took her hands and said, “I know we only have the weekend but we can take this slow. I’ve been reading about you for months now; I feel almost like I already know you. Heck, I know that you got a C in tenth grade English Lit and that you broke your arm when you were eight. But I want to get you know
you
a little better first. Come on down when you’re ready and I’ll show you around.”

Derrick had left Gracie perplexed. What a surprising man. But what had she expected? That they would just jump into bed like a couple of rabbits? She had hoped she could stand the guy, but she hadn’t expected to actually
like
him. And she hadn’t expected to actually be looking forward to the rabbits part.

*

Gracie found Derrick in the den quicker than he had expected. From his experience, women left to get settled in usually ended up taking an hour to wash, reapply makeup, restyle hair, and change wardrobe before making an appearance. But Derrick could already tell that Gracie wasn’t like most girls he had experienced. She was more down to earth. Despite the quick turnaround, Gracie reappeared looking fresh, lively, and beautiful as ever.

“Are you up for walking?” he asked. “I know you’ve had a long flight.”

“I’m up for anything. It takes a lot to tire me out,” Gracie said, then blushed, realizing how that must sound.

“Great!” Derrick said. “I brought you a coat, since I didn’t know what you had in that little bag of yours. You never know what it’s going to be like around here in September; the nights tend to get a little chilly. I wanted to show you around the place before dinner.”

“That was thoughtful of you,” said Gracie, allowing him to help her into the warm wool-lined coat. “In Carolina it’s still in the eighties but that could change by the time I get home. During hurricane season the weather can be ‘as fickle as a possum in the middle of the road,’ if you want to coin a phrase from my Nana.”

Derrick knew that Gracie and her two brothers had been raised by their elderly Nana when their parents had died in a car crash when Gracie was only six. He could tell already that the woman had a huge influence on Gracie’s life and he admired the tight family bond. As they toured the property, Gracie told him about her family and the small town where she lived back home.

“It’s not Hollywood,” she concluded, “but everybody knows everybody, and we all look out for each other. I guess that sounds pretty lame to you.”

“Not at all,” argued Derrick. “As I’ve gotten older, I’ve actually found myself longing more for that kind of life. That’s why I like it so much here. There’s only about twelve of us total on any given day but I think of everyone here as family. It’s been a welcome change from LA. When I’m there everybody knows me, but nobody really
knows
me. And they’d all sooner stab you in the back than save you from a runaway car, like the man you were just talking about.”

“Old Pete, yeah, he’s quite the character. A regular haunt at the diner, but he does have a heart of gold.”
              “I’d like to meet him someday,” said Derrick without thinking. Stupid thing to say. As they rounded the pastures and headed back past the pond where the calf - now dubbed Lucky - had nearly met its end, Derrick had forgotten that this wasn’t a date. This woman wasn’t an old friend, and she wasn’t a potential fling. She was just supposed to be a woman who had accepted the offer of one million dollars to bear his child. Of course he would never be meeting Old Pete. In fact, if all went as planned after this weekend he’d probably never even see Gracie again. He tried not to let the thought dampen his spirits.

              “I’ve been blabbing on about myself for nearly an hour now,” Gracie said. “Now tell me something nobody else knows about you. Who is the real Derrick Stone?” She pantomimed holding a microphone up to his face.

He laughed. “Haven’t you read the tabloids? It’s all true! My life in print for the past twenty-five years.”