Page 53 of The Mistletoe Mix-up

Wren frowned, setting the bottle down on the side table. The whiskey was already going to her head, and she blinked against the heaviness of her eyelids. “What is a Mindy Kaling?”

“She has two children, and she doesn’t talk about the father. People assume that it’s her ex, B. J. Novak, because he’s involved with the kids, but the two of them don’t talk about it. They keep it under wraps, and she’s happy as a clam with two kids and no boyfriend, no husband, single, and living her best life.”

Wren scoffed. “But how many men do you know that would be okay with a situation like that?”

“I don’t know any,” Millie admitted, poking Wren in the knee. “But there’s a lot of single moms doing their thing. You could just find a man you’re never going to see again and roll the dice?”

“And end up with an unfriendly reminder in my drawers for the rest of my life?” Wren said, the prospect of ending up with an STD making her squirm. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

Millie sighed. “It sounds like if you don’t want to keep searching for someone random to inseminate you, you are going to have to pick someone that you trust and respect who would be willing to do something like that for you.”

The prospect of going into an arrangement with someone she knew had its advantages. She’d know them well enough to ask about grandparents, find out their history when the kid started asking questions.

Only what if they changed their mind and started having opinions?

“Wren, breathe, you’re going to pass out,” Millie said, and Wren realized she was sucking in air like she’d run a marathon.

“I don’t think you want to do this.”

Wren stiffened. “Yes, I do. I’ve wanted to be a mom for years—”

“I mean, raising a stranger’s child. If you choose someone you know, you’d have to tell him everything, of course. Most men don’t trust women to be on the pill unless they’ve been together a while, and asking someone you know to just donate the sperm means giving up the fun part for him.”

Wren thought about Sam rolling the dice with her twice without a condom and grimaced. “The fun parts? Jeez.”

“I’m just saying, how are you going to get the stuff in you if you don’t have an expulsion method?”

Wren hooted when Millie used her hands to emulate the explosions. “Oh my God, stop! I could buy an at-home insemination kit!”

“I didn’t know they used those?” Millie laughed, wiping at her eyes. “I thought I was going to have to prop you up and use a turkey baster.”

This time, Wren hit Millie with the pillow. “I got the how part covered. It’s the sample that’s my issue.”

“Tell me this: Would Sam be willing to donate to you?” Millie leaned her elbow on the back of the couch, cradling the side of her head as she watched Wren’s expression. “He seems to be the one you’re holding out for.”

“I doubt it,” Wren grumbled.

“Then I suggest you avoid the man at all costs and keep looking.”

Wren groaned, grabbing one of Millie’s throw pillows and pressing her face to it, screaming.

“Oh, come on, Mistletoe has other hotties. Check this out.” Millie pulled out her phone and showed Wren the local men in her dating app. “See?”

“I remember him. He used to pick his nose,” Wren said, grimacing.

“Well, he looks alright now,” Millie said, continuing to scroll. “Plus, I heard they’re doing a whole Mistletoe bachelor auction. You could always bid on your choice of bachelor and tell him your proposition then.”

“Sure, I’ll just pick him out of a brochure, then spend money to get him alone, tell him my woes, and he’ll say yes.” Wren rolled her eyes. “That’s a great idea.”

“Sarcasm is an ugly defense mechanism,” Millie deadpanned. “Besides, it’s a better idea than what you have right now, which is nothing.”

“I have the profile I’ve already placed and a few leads,” Wren protested.

“Leads that didn’t pan out,” Millie shot back.

Wren glared at her. “You know you are a bit of an assmouth when you’ve had too much whiskey late at night?”

“This is just my personality now,” Millie said, blowing her a kiss. “Get used to it.”