When my mother approached me on my thirty-third birthday with a brochure for egg freezing, it was a glaring reminder that my biological clock is ticking toward its expiration date. I've always dreamed of being a mom and had a plan-one that was destroyed when I caught my professional hockey player husband in bed with another woman.
Despite my broken heart, I still believe in love. I want the happily ever after, but I also want a child desperately and won't settle in order to make it happen. That's why when I decided to take my mother's advice, Christian came up with his own plan: Let's have a baby together.
It's a bad idea. A really, really bad idea. And yet . . . I can't stop thinking about how great it could be. There's just one condition. Before we have sex (oh, yes, we're doing this the old-fashioned way!) Christian is adamant we go on three dates. Sounds easy, but it's not. I thought sex would be the hard part, but the dates are only making me fall for the man I've known almost my entire life.
Whoever said sex doesn't change things never went to bed with their best friend.
