Dear Baby Daddy

by Alexis Adaire

  I just have to find a way to convince him to help me. As that thought enters my head, my entire body tingles at the mere thought of Mason depositing his seed deep inside of me. It’s exciting on so many levels, I can’t EVEN.

  I grab my phone and start to send him a text, then decide better.

  Nope, I need to call him instead. It’s Saturday, so hopefully I’ll catch him at a good time.

  Mason picks up on the second ring.

  “Now this is a surprise. I thought you were done with me. Love ‘em and leave ‘em.”

  I have to correct him. “In our case, it would be more like ‘Fuck ‘em and leave ‘em.’”

  “If you say so.” His tone is flat. Definitely not the animated man I got naked with last night.

  “Look, Mason, I’ll get to the point. Last night was more than fun; it was hot and wonderful magical, and I apologize for getting weird there at the end and ruining it all. But—”

  “There’s a but?”

  “There’s always a but with me,” I say.

  “Out with it, then. Let’s hear it.”

  “When Grace first paired us up, I thought that maybe you would be an okay guy to accomplish the simple task I had in mind. But now that I’ve gotten to know you, I feel very close to you. I honestly think you’d be the perfect father for my child, and as a friend, I’m asking you to please reconsider.”

  There’s dead silence on my phone.

  “Mason? Are you there?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Would you please just think about it? Imagine the fun we’d have while trying to get me pregnant. I could be your little slut and let you do whatever you want to me, as long as you don’t pull out when the time comes.”

  “Kind of ironic, considering that the moment you are pregnant, you would want me to withdraw from your life—and the baby’s—completely.”

  “I’ve already told you my reasons for wanting to do it this way. All I’m asking is that you give it some more thought, that’s all. Please.”

  “Okay. I won’t completely rule it out until I’ve thought it through a little more. But I’m not making any promises.”

  “Of course, not. Don’t even think about the baby—that will be my job. Your only job is to have sex with me until you knock me up.”

  I smile at my little joke, but I’m greeted with more silence. This time I wait him out, my heart beating unreasonably hard. It’s pounding, actually, and I can feel the pulses in my head. What is going on with me?

  “You know, Scarlett, maybe I’m not the one who should be reconsidering.”

  When he hangs up, I realize that it was the thought of actually making a baby with this man that got me all excited. Not just getting pregnant, but the two of us together creating an actual life.

  I know this feeling. This tightness in my chest. These alarms sounding in my head.

  What are you doing, Scarlett?

  Stop! Stop it immediately!

  Do NOT fall in love with this man.

  Mason

  This woman is infuriating.

  Gorgeous, sexy, smart, funny, aggressive in bed, amazing body… and infuriating because I can’t have her.

  Scarlett is the very embodiment of the woman of my dreams, except that she’s decided to make herself unavailable.

  For several days, we don’t have any contact as I mull her offer. It’s one that many guys would jump at: I would get to have incredible sex with her as often as I wanted. Until she becomes pregnant, at which point we’d have to say goodbye. She’s made it quite clear she wants the baby’s father to disappear from her life forever.

  I try my best to see if from Scarlett’s point of view, I’ve developed feelings for her. I don’t want them to continue to intensify as we’re intimate, over and over and over, only to have the door suddenly slammed in my face.

  I’ve made my decision, and it’s the one I expected to make all along.

  I send Scarlett a text.

  Hi. I think we should meet in person to discuss this.

  Her response is quick.

  Hmm… can’t tell whether that’s good or bad.

  It’s bad, but I want to explain it to her face.

  You’ll find out. Can you come by my office at lunch?

  Another immediate response comes in.

  Sure! Office sex is one of my fantasies : )

  Nice try, sweetie.

  Office? Yes. Sex? No. See you at noon.

  I text her the address and tell my assistant I have a lunchtime meeting planned in my office.

  The look on Scarlett’s face when she’s shown to my office makes me wonder if I gave her the impression that I’ve decided to go through with this. She’s all smiles and wide eyes, and just overall looks very happy.

  Great. Now I get to be the asshole who wipes that smile off her face. It doesn’t help at all that she looks so fucking hot today, and I’m pretty sure she came straight from work. Tight jeans and a loose sweater really get my attention. My cock’s attention, too. Man, my dick is going to hate me for what I’m about to do.

  I stand when she enters, and when my assistant shuts the door, Scarlett comes around my side of the desk and gives me a big hug.

  “You’ve got a hell of a view, Mr. Attorney,” she says, looking out the window of my twenty-third floor office.

  “Indeed,” I say, looking at the freckles on the part of her breasts her slightly unbuttoned shirt makes visible.

  “Don’t be a bad boy, Mason, unless you’re willing to lock that door and throw me down on this desk. I’ve never had the opportunity to explore my boss’s desk fantasy.”

  I point at the windows of the building across the street. “The people in those offices would love that.”

  Scarlett tiptoes to give me a peck on the lips, then takes a seat in one of my visitor chairs. “We could sit on the couch if you’d prefer,” I say. My office is large, and I sometimes hold strategy meetings here.

  “I kind of like looking across the desk at you. You look so powerful from here.”

  “Okay. Scarlett, I wanted you to come here because what I have to say will hopefully have more impact face-to-face.”

  “Sounds ominous.” She frowns, and even her frown is fucking sexy.

  “Here’s the deal. I think Grace was absolutely right in trying to match us up as a couple. We’ve barely spent any time together and I already like you a lot.”

  She arches an eyebrow.

  “A whole lot, to be honest. And that’s where the problem really starts between us. I refuse to entertain the idea of fathering a child whom I’ll never know. But even if I could hypothetically somehow get beyond that aspect of it, I still wouldn’t be able to help you get pregnant.”

  Now her expression is more solemn. The disappointment shows.

  “And why is that? Hypothetically, of course.”

  “Because as soon as we successfully conceived a child, I’d never see you again!”

  I didn’t mean to raise my voice, but my emotions got the better of me. I’m starting to hate that Scarlett’s stubbornness is preventing us from having a relationship, from being together.

  “But you’re perfect, Mason. Both as a potential father, and…” Her bottom lip is quivering, and it looks like her eyes are tearing up, too. “And as a man.”

  “I’m not surprised you think I’m perfect for this, or that I think you’re perfect for me, too. Grace matched us up because she thought so. She obviously knows her shit and saw just from meeting us individually that we’d be great together. In a relationship.”

  “But I you know I can’t do that.”

  “What’s stopping you? Don’t you trust me?”

  “I don’t trust anyone. I can’t. Don’t you understand how scarred I am over how men have treated me in the past? Relationships are just not for me. I would be crushed if I got my hopes up and it happened again.”

  “And you think I would do that do you?” I ask.

  “I have no guarantee that you wouldn’t.”r />
  So that’s it. Scarlett wants a guarantee that I won’t cheat on her.

  “You would have my word. That’s all the guarantee you could possibly get, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s all you would ever need.”

  She bites her lip to stop it from trembling. “What are you saying?”

  I thought I’d made it pretty damned clear.

  “I’m saying I’m not interested in being your baby daddy, because I’m already starting to fall in love with you.”

  Now the tears come, one trickling down her left cheek, then its twin down her right.

  If she wants a guarantee, I’ll give her the closest thing. I’m not surprised when the idea pops into my head, because I have faith in myself and I have faith in Grace. Not to mention I’ve thought about it more than once in the last few days.

  “If you and I got married, we could have a relationship you can trust. And we could have that baby.”

  Scarlett looks at me with an expression that tears at my heart. It’s a combination of fear and hurt, but nowhere in those beautiful brown eyes do I detect happiness.

  Then she subtly shakes her head from side to side.

  “No,” she whispers. “Don’t do this.”

  The head shaking grows more pronounced until she bolts from the chair and runs out the door, sobbing.

  Scarlett

  Why?

  Why did Mason have to go and do that?

  I was very specific when I told Grace what I was looking for, and even went as far as to say I absolutely did not want a relationship. And I definitely don’t want to get married!

  Now she’s gotten me involved with a man I would have jumped to marry back then, back before I had my heart stomped on three times in eight years. Back when I wasn’t scared to death of letting yet another man into my life, of giving him the keys to come in and live in my heart for a while, then callously setting the whole thing on fire on his way out.

  I can’t recover from another instance of that. I know I can’t. And I refuse to risk it.

  Crying my eyes out, I drive straight home and call the office to tell them something came up and I won’t be back until tomorrow. Then I change into my yoga pants and an old T-shirt and throw myself on the bed, where part of me wants to stay, eating ice cream and watching TV while living out the remaining days of my miserable life.

  Why did Mason have to mention marriage? I’m not the marriage type. I’m not even the short-term relationship type.

  My biggest failure, my downfall in life, is that I’ve always been a horrible judge of men.

  Always. And there’s no reason to think that has changed just because I met a wonderful, handsome man who promises me he’d never cheat on m—

  Wait a minute…

  Oh my god.

  It wasn’t me.

  I never chose Mason.

  I didn’t see him on stage with his band like I saw Trevor, thinking that being a rocker’s girlfriend would be so interesting and glamorous. Horrible choice, Scarlett. Trevor was sleeping with two other women while he was with me, and because both of them were fine with it, he couldn’t understand why I didn’t feel the same.

  It’s not like Mason and I met by chance at a party and I foolishly thought he was mature enough to not stray. That was Daniel, who I lived with for two years before coming home unexpected to find him fucking Tasha, who was going to be my maid of honor one day. Lesson learned and heart badly broken. Again.

  And Mason and I didn’t work together for a year before dating, like Bryce and I did. I would never have left him if it weren’t for the company’s Director of Human Resources, who was kind enough to tell me about him trying to expense his business-trip call girls.

  No, Mason was not selected by me and my horrible judgement.

  Grace chose him for me.

  Unlike me, Grace is an expert in this sort of thing.

  And at this point, even if I could convince Mason to help me conceive a baby, would I really want him to go away forever and leave me with a living reminder of him? Every day I would see this child and remember the man I’ve fallen in lov—

  Oh, shit.

  What have you done, Scarlet?

  I look at my phone and see it’s seven-thirty. Jumping out of bed, I put on some house slippers and grab my hoodie on my way out the door.

  Mason buzzes me into his condo building without a word. I get tired of waiting for the only elevator, so I dash up the stairs. Only when I get to the fourth floor do I remember that he lives on the seventh.

  Finally, I arrive at his door, all sweaty and out of breath. I knock, then quickly try to fix my hair and straighten up my grubby clothes. There’s really no point, though. At this point, my look is what it is.

  The door swings open and I see his look, which is a totally different story. Mason is wearing jeans that sit low on his hips, and a button-down shirt that’s unbuttoned and hanging on him, showing off his chest and abs, and that delicious happy trail of hair leading downward and taking my eyes with it. To top off his look, he’s barefoot.

  I’m looking at a smoking hot, barefoot man in jeans with his shirt open, and my brain immediately turns to complete mush.

  “What a surprise,” he says dryly. “I was thinking I might never see you again.”

  His eyes look tired and he’s holding a tumbler of brown liquor on ice. Scotch, I’m guessing.

  “I realized something today and had to talk to you. I couldn’t wait.”

  “Then come in and have your say.”

  As I enter Mason’s condo, I realize I didn’t really see it the first time I was there. We were in such a big hurry to get to his bedroom that we practically ran there, just stopping long enough to strip off another item of clothing. Afterwards, I was too preoccupied with having opened my mouth and spoiled the great sex that I again didn’t bother to look around.

  He ushers me to a sofa. “Can I get you a drink? I’m at the beginning of what might be a drunken night.”

  I nod. “Do you have any bourbon?”

  “Rocks?”

  “Please.”

  Mason’s big office confirmed his importance to his firm, but his condo confirms that Mason does very well for a man his age. I’m glad I didn’t know that earlier. Learning it now doesn’t change anything about why I came here but knowing it earlier might have made me feel a little weird.

  He hands me a tumbler and I take a big slug, feeling the burn of the liquid as it passes my throat.

  “So what’s this big realization?” he asks, sitting in a cool designer chair across from me.

  “I didn’t pick you!”

  My excitement and enthusiasm are instantly dimmed by Mason’s look of confusion.

  “I mean, Grace picked you. She picked us both. This was her idea, not mine. That changes everything.”

  He’s still confused. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

  “I’ve always had bad taste in men, though I thought I had great taste and only learned after the fact that my taste was actually bad. Horrible, in fact.”

  “Is this leading somewhere?” he asks impatiently.

  “Yes! Yes, it’s definitely leading somewhere.”

  I’m getting all wound up now. I take a deep breath before continuing.

  “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t have to worry about you cheating on me. I mean, I think I don’t have to, because Grace was the one who found you and put you on my radar. The odds of this being yet another horrible man decision made by me just went down drastically.”

  His quizzical look says he still doesn’t quite get it.

  “Don‘t you see? We can do it,” I sputter excitedly. “We can have a relationship!”

  Mason’s expression changes to one of minor irritation. “About”—he looks at his wristwatch—“eight hours ago you told me you could never be in a relationship with me. Or anyone. That you just wanted me for my ability to plant a baby in you.”

  “That was then, and this is now.”

  “You�
�ve already shot me down once today. Honestly, Scarlett, I have no idea where you’re going with this. What are you proposing?”

  Proposing.

  That’s perfect!

  Women can propose, right?

  I’m the one who has kept this from happening all along, I should be the one to finally set it in motion.

  I stand and set my tumbler down on a coaster, then walk to where Mason is sitting. I look down into those luscious green-gold eyes and give him my best sexy smile.

  “I’m crazy about you, Mason.” The words come out easily and sound strong, with more conviction than I thought they would. That’s a good sign.

  I drop to my knees in front of him, gazing at him in a long, loving manner. I’ve never proposed to anyone before and am suddenly aware that I have no little speech prepared. But Mason’s expression makes me think that he finally gets it. When he smiles warmly, I’m ready to give this a try.

  That is, I’m ready to give it a try until he sits back and spreads his legs as he starts to unzip his jeans. When I see the look on his face, I realize what he thinks. I slam a fist down onto his thigh.

  “I’m not down here to blow you, you dork!” I say, laughing.

  His confused expression returns. “I…”

  “Men!”

  “I thought maybe all of this was your way of telling me we can have a friends-with-benefits thing. First you tell me how much you like me, then you show me by bringing on the benefits. And if that’s all I can have with you at this point, I guess I’ll take it.”

  Now I’m laughing my ass off. “I thought you were smart, but you are SUCH. AN. IDIOT.”

  “Well if you’re not trying to give me a blowjob, then—”

  My hand shoots up and clamps tightly over Mason’s mouth.

  “Shut up. Just shut the fuck up for a minute. And keep your cock in your pants.”

  I remove my hand and see he’s being quiet. Again, I take a breath.

  “Like I said, I’m crazy about you.” I reconsider my choice of words. “No, that’s not enough. I love you. I would be insane not to. You’re the man I’ve dreamed about for years.”