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“Yes, exactly like a contract.”
“What if, God forbid, she doesn’t like art?” His mother tried to contain her smirk behind her glass.
“Well, then, I’ll just have to request another one,” he replied sarcastically.
Claire laughed. “I hope they really do take your love for art into account. Or else she will need to be really good at just pretending to listen to you.”
Gabriel leaned back and huffed. “I’m not that bad.”
“Maybe not to someone who knows what you’re talking about. Plus, it’s the only way you know how to bond with anyone.”
“No, it’s not.” Gabriel tried to defend himself.
“Absolutely, it is. Think. How have you ever bonded with any other shifter in the pride?”
He thought about the shifters he enjoyed talking to and realized his mother was right. Art seemed to be the common denominator. It was just easier to connect with others if there was a common ground …
“Well, here’s to hoping.” He raised his glass and air-clinked his mother’s before throwing back the last little bit.
“Is their success rate really as good as you say it is?” Claire asked before finishing her own glass.
Gabriel grabbed hers and poured them both another. “Yes. As far as I know.”
“How do they even pick someone for you?”
“Well, I filled out an application and a questionnaire, and now they go from there. We meet up with who they pair us with, and then I make the call if we go further with it. Oh, wait, you want to know the best part?” He chuckled, thinking about how his mother was going to react to this new little tidbit. She was already suspicious about the agency, but he had a kicker for her.
She narrowed her eyes with distrust. “What?” she asked cautiously.
A grin broke over Gabriel’s face before he even got the sentence out. “The child has to happen the old-fashioned way. It ensures there is no tampering or mishandling of the shifter’s genes in order to produce another shifter. We apparently aren’t successful at inseminating without consummating.”
Claire choked on her scotch. “Gabriel!”
“What? I thought you wanted to know more about it?” He acted hurt at her reaction.That would teach her to prod too carelessly into his affairs,he thought, amused.
“No wonder so many of you have skipped the dating scene and applied for this surrogacy. Sounds more like a hookup site thing.” The sixty-year-old sipped from her glass again in fake shock and disdain.
Gabriel laughed at his mother’s failed attempt at being scornful.
“So, you all just hook up and go from there? Or do you actually court each other? This is all just so different from how we used to do things.”
“All I know is that sex is on the table, but a date or meet-up is definitely first.”
“Oh, how chivalrous,” Claire declared mockingly.
Gabriel continued, ignoring his mother’s theatrics. “I don’t care what you say. I think that it takes some of the stress off of us. We already know what we are in for and can jump straight to the point after feeling each other out.”
They had both finished their second glass. Claire slid hers toward him, beckoning for a third. “Say what you want to make yourself feel better. It’s not a surrogacy agency. It’s a way to get laid.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes as he topped them both off. “No, it’s not. It just is part of the whole package in order to complete the …” He waved his glass in the air, trying to find the right word. “Transaction.”
“Such a gentleman,” she teased while taking a sip.
“This will be good, Mom. I know it sounds cheesy, but I’m trying to be optimistic. I want my legacy to be passed on, and I’m not finding a suitable mate on my own. Not with everything going on.”
Claire leaned forward and focused hard on her son. “I know. I trust you. I have always supported everything that you do, and that includes this. I just want the best for you and the pack. And the thought of you being set up with a stranger…”
“Technically, aren’t all mates strangers at first?” Gabriel smirked with a raised eyebrow.
