Page 21 of Nine Month Contract
It’s even outlined in the contract what happens if there are any health issues with this baby that are genetically linked to Trista, and, well, she has a say in that decision. Rightfully so. But whatever it is and whatever she decides, I’ll handle it. I’ll devote my life to handling it. I’ll make sure this baby has every need met, even if that means moving off the mountain.
This is my priority now. Nothing else matters. Not even my brothers. I’m ready to become a father. And Trista Matthews is my hope to get there.
This past week, I did a deep dive on her social media to ensure that I made the right choice with her. I had my doubts at first because the girl looks damn near feral in all her Instagram photos. Messy hair, smudged makeup, always some animal in her hands. So many animals, I know she can’t own them all. But oddly enough, that made me feel like I got it right. Like of all the women I interviewed, none were like her—genuine…real—and maybe she was the one I’d been waiting for.
And if we’re successful at this…I will owe my niece big-time.
My phone pings with a text from Everly…as if she could tell I was thinking about her.
Everly: Don’t let my dad cause you to doubt this decision. Trista is perfect, and I have a really good feeling about all of this, Uncle Wyatt. <3
Me: Me too, Evie girl. Me too.
Luke steps forward and slaps me on the back. “I’m excited for you, Wyatt. This is exciting.”
I exhale heavily and look up at Max, who wears a rare proud smile. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…I’m excited for you too. I hope this all works out.”
“Is our baby intervention over now?” Calder drawls, rolling his eyes. “I have a girl in my cabin and would like to do some baby dancing of my own.” He pauses and holds up his finger. “But hold the baby, please.”
OvulationTestStripsUsed:6
“You said all of that, and he still hired you? You must have been dressed real slutty,” my sister, Vada, drawls as I drive the shelter van through the winding roads north of Boulder toward Jamestown.
The van is stuffed to the gills with most of my belongings, and my boss, Earl, said I needed to get his vehicle back no later than 2:00 p.m. today because he has a litter of kittens to pick up in Nebraska. It took me longer than expected to load everything up on my own, so I’m for sure going to be late, which will infuriate Earl. This means he’ll do his gruff, chastising speech about time management and threaten to fire me for the tenth time.
Thankfully, he’s all talk because my life is not conducive to punctuality. When you have to do everything on your own, the last thing I remember to do is look at the clock.
But I will need to work on my tardiness now that I’ll have about an hour commute to work every day, or Earl could put his money where his mouth is and drop me. The drive to the shelter isn’t ideal, but I knew after laying eyes on that barn, there was no way I wouldn’t want to live on Fletcher Mountain.
“Fletcher Mountain,” I say to myself with a laugh. What a lame name for a peak. I realize that’s their family name, but couldn’t he havecreated something more inspired? Like…Three Brothers Peak, or heck, he could have named it after his goat.
Mount Millie!
Now, that has a nice ring to it and would look super cute on some custom T-shirts. I might suggest that…you know…after I get knocked up and feel secure in actually staying there.
And the barn apartment is a dream come true for an animal lover like me. Frankly, that big barn is wasted on his single pet goat. So many empty stables that could be filled with all sorts of critters. I love the idea of a full barn below me as I sleep. And I didn’t tell Wyatt this, but the apartment is nicer than the place I just moved out of. It’s a converted hayloft with vaulted ceilings, all-natural timber, and exposed beams. Refurbished barnwood floors with southwestern-style rugs laid out everywhere. It’s a studio style that flows effortlessly from the kitchen into a living and dining area, with a queen bed beneath salvaged windows. It has a rustic charm that HGTV could never pull off. Throw in the enclosed bathroom and a mountain view—what more could a girl want?
Although I will admit, when I saw the outdoor shower on the side of the barn, it sparked my curiosity about how often Wyatt might need to use that. There’s a perfect view of it from my bathroom window, and something tells me that man gets dirty out here on the mountain during the hot summer months.
Do not have indecent thoughts about the mountain man whose baby you’re going to carry, Trista!
“Trista?” Vada echoes in my ear, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Did you hear my question? I asked what you were wearing. You must have looked skanky for him to hire you after you told him you owned a potbellied pig.”
“I didn’t look skanky,” I state flatly. “Actually, my clothes had puppy pee on them.”
“He has to be crazy. Totally fucking crazy,” she replies, and I know she’s being serious but not serious enough to be genuinely concerned about my well-being. “What’s the next step, then?”
“Well, I suppose we do the insemination song and dance, then wait to see if it worked.”
“This is totally crazy!” she squeals into the line, and I really wish she could come up with another word to describe this because she’s wearing on my last nerve. “I think it’s weird you’re going to donate your own egg. You’re going to give your baby to this mountain man and never see it ever again?”
“I’m not giving him my baby. I’m giving him my egg. It doesn’t become a baby without his…sperm.” I cringe at that thought.
“And your uterus.”
“Obviously.”
“But seriously, you don’t think you’re going to give birth to this baby that’s yours and feel any type of way?”
