by Taryn Quinn
“Five minutes, buddy.”
My shoulders slumped as she dried her hands. “That’s forever.” I looked down at my watch and set the timer.
She grinned and walked into my space. “Then maybe we should make out for a few minutes.”
“Well, I can certainly do that.” I lowered my mouth to hers and slowly drew out the kiss. I tried to concentrate on the little things I knew she liked, but I kept sneaking glances at my watch.
She plowed her fist into my belly. “You’re incorrigible.”
I rubbed my ribs. “Ow. I can’t help it.” She tried to hide behind her curtain of hair, but I saw the nervous smile peeking through. “You want to know just as bad as I do.”
“No, I don’t. Well, maybe. What time is it?” She grabbed my wrist. “It has to be time.”
“It’s only been three minutes.”
She dropped my wrist. “Ugh.”
I tried to loop my arm around her waist but she wiggled free. “Seth, don’t try to distract me now. You had your chance.” She couldn’t stop laughing as I grabbed for her again and again. “What time is it now?”
“Twenty seconds later.” I banded my arms under her butt and lifted her until our mouths lined up. I stared at her as our lips met. “It doesn’t matter what it says.”
She looped her arms around my shoulders. “No?”
I shook my head, but then my timer started beeping and she scrambled down and we both raced to the bathroom. She elbowed me out of the way and grabbed the little plastic wand.
“What does it say?” I asked over her shoulder.
Her hand flew up to her mouth.
I banded my arms around her waist as we stood in front of the stick. “It’s okay, Al, we’ve got—”
“Positive.”
I swear I went blind and dumb for a full ten seconds. “What?”
“Positive.” She twisted in my arms. “I think we’re having a baby.”
I crushed her to me.
“Seth, the stick.”
“Who cares? I’m getting that sucker framed. My girl said yes, and the test said yes. Best day ever!”
“I didn’t say yes yet.”
I scooped her up into my arms again and strode out of the bathroom. “Oh, you will.”
She grabbed my shoulder. “You’re so certain?”
I locked my gaze with hers. “More certain than I’ve ever been about anything.”
Her eyes were shiny, but the biggest, brightest smile lit her face.
Finally, I got the words right.
Epilogue
Ally
The air was crisp, and the wind fluttered the curls cascading down my back. The lace of my veil lifted and settled around my shoulders to brush my arms. Fingertip length. All the things I’d learned about weddings had gone in one ear and out the other, other than a little of the background on my veil. The piece offered a touch of the traditional. As did the empire cut of the gown that hid some of the swell of my belly.
I slid my hand over the bump growing larger every day. February was coming like a freight train and so here I was…getting married on the first of October.
I peeked around the gazebo to the long pier I had to walk down.
Alone.
“I’m here, I’m here.” A little voice carried on the wind.
I glanced behind me to see Laurie coming around the corner in her pink tulle and ribbons. “What are you doing down here? You’re supposed to be next to your dad.”
“Nuh-uh. I walking you down the aisle, silly.”
My eyes burned. “Oh, sweetie.”
She held out her hand to me. Such a big girl these days. Four going on forty sometimes. Her nightmares had faded away with family reading time every night. We’d all settled into a crazy sort of normal. “It’s okay, Mommy. I’m a big girl, I can do it.”
“Oh, I know that you can. I just thought you had to be brave for Daddy.”
She shrugged and stepped next to me. “Nah. He has Unca Ollie.”
“Are you ready?” Sage rushed down the hill to fuss with my train. “What did you do? I told you to stay still.”
I looked over my shoulder at my maid of honor decked out in a navy off-the-shoulder dress. “Wind.”
Sage sighed and set down her tight bouquet of Gerbera daisies in burgundy, orange, and gold. “You’re going to take off like a sailboat today with this wind.” She fluffed my little train and shifted one of the buttons of my bustle. Why had I let her talk me into this thing? It was too formal for an outdoor wedding. I should have just gotten the little tea-length dress.
Sage tucked the daisy crown behind Laurie’s ear. “Hey little mama, what are you doing down here?”
“I’m gonna walk Mommy down the aisle.” Laurie clutched my hand.
“Oh, I swore I wasn’t going to cry until the actual ceremony.” Sage tipped back her head and blinked rapidly. “You’re just the best little girl.”
Laurie smiled brightly. “I know.”
Sage and I laughed.
My maid of honor slapped her thigh. “Well, I think it’s time to get this show on the road. I know there’s a very nervy groom waiting at the end of that pier.”
I slid my hand over my bump and the little boy kicking around like crazy. “I think both of us…” I looked down at Laurie and swung our clasped hands. “All three of us are ready to go down.”
Laurie patted my belly. “He’s gotta stay in there cooking.”
I laughed. “Yes, we still have a few months to go.”
“Okay. I’m heading down.” Sage picked up her bouquet, stood, and looped her arm around my waist. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks.” My eyes misted. “Now go, before I start bawling. You know all it takes is a stiff breeze these days.”
Sage fanned her face. “Right. No tears. At least not for a few minutes.” She blew out a breath. “Was the pier always that long?”
I laughed. “Yes.”
“At least we’ve got two hotties to look forward to at the end.”
“Yes. Well, at least one.”
Laurie wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”
Sage shook back her blond hair and checked her earrings. “Here we go.”
My mouth went dry as she walked over the uneven ground in her stilts. I had no idea why Sage was suddenly interested in fashion and things like heels, but she pulled off the look.
As for me, me and my ballerina flats were going to do this long walk.
I tightened my hold on Laurie’s hand. “You sure about this?”
She nodded. “I can’t wait for Daddy to see your pretty dress.”
“Then let’s do this thing, huh?” I bent down, wrinkles in my dress be damned. I kissed her cheek. “I’m so excited to be marrying your dad.”
“Me, too!” Laurie moved forward, tugging me after her. “Let’s go.”
There was no slow processional down the pier. White and red daisies dotted the railing with lace snapping in the breeze. I didn’t really get to take it all in. In fact, I didn’t even get to catch my breath before Seth came into view.
He took a step forward, and his brother yanked him back.
Seth lifted his fisted hand to his mouth and the shock and happiness on his face tumbled every nerve out of my body. Laurie and I nearly jogged down the pier to get to him.
To get to my very happily ever after.
I glanced down to the daughter of my heart and then to the man who’d owned it since I was fifteen years old.
Sage took the bouquet I forgot I was holding and then it was Seth’s hand in mine.
The preacher behind Seth cleared his throat as he looked down at Laurie. “Would you be giving this beautiful bride away?”
Laurie squeezed my hand and looked down at her feet, then up at her father. She nodded. “I would.”
Seth crouched down and held his arm open. “Thank you, Munchkin.” She launched herself into his chest and he gathered her up against his hip, and never let go of my hand. He turned to me. “Y
ou’re so beautiful.”
“I love you so much.” I leaned in to rub my nose with Laurie’s. “Both of you.”
His eyes were red-rimmed as he brought our joined hands to rest on the little life between us. I sniffled and laughed then all three of us turned to the preacher.
“We’re ready.”
Thanks for reading HAVE MY BABY. We hope you loved Seth and Ally as much as we did.
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You’re going to be a daddy.
Those were the last words I ever expected to hear.
Choices were made. Alcoholic beverages were consumed. Virginities were taken.
Hers, not mine.
Then Sage announced I’d knocked her up. And oh yeah, she doesn’t expect me to take an active role, because she knows I can’t handle anything except my d*ck.
Say what?
She’s so wrong, and I’m going to prove it to her. I’m going to claim my baby—and Sage.
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Claim My Baby
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Claim My Baby
© 2018 Taryn Quinn
Rainbow Rage Publishing
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First ebook edition: Taryn Quinn, February 2018
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About This Book
You’re going to be a daddy.
Those were the last words I ever expected to hear.
As one of the fabled Hamilton twins, I enjoy my life just as it is. Why wouldn’t I? Check out my stats.
Co-owner of Hamilton Realty, a multimillion dollar business.
Doting uncle to my niece, Laurie, and my soon-to-be nephew.
All-around sexy, single guy who doesn’t do strings—ever.
Then I went to Vegas with my sister-in-law’s best friend, Sage.
Choices were made. Alcoholic beverages were consumed. Virginities were taken.
Hers, not mine.
Then Sage announced I’d knocked her up. And oh yeah, she doesn’t expect me to take an active role, because she knows I can’t handle anything except my d*ck.
Say what?
She’s so wrong, and I’m going to prove it to her. I’m going to claim my baby—and Sage.
Author’s note: This book is about the process of becoming a DILF. Oliver doesn’t start out as a single father, but by the end of the book? Hoo boy.
Author’s note part deux: Claim My Baby is a standalone rom com with a romantic HEA ending and no cliffhanger.
One
Sage
“Earth to Sage. Hello. Anyone home?”
My best friend Ally’s voice only vaguely registered behind me. I just needed one more minute. This was a very important task that couldn’t be put off a second longer.
In the Facebook search bar, I typed Moose Masterson. Hmm. Moose wasn’t his real name. What the heck was it? Chewing on my thumbnail, I dug through my memory banks from high school and grinned. Murphy Masterson. Bam! My thumbs blurred over the tiny keys and triumphantly, I waited as Facebook searched for the man who had to be my one true love. Or my one good hookup, which would suffice until I found a candidate for the love stuff.
My results were a big fat goose egg.
Undeterred, I spun to ask Ally if she remembered Murphy’s middle name when my best friend skidded to a halt behind me, far closer than I’d expected. She was carrying a partially full coffeepot, and she flailed as we collided. I tried to steady her, the coffeepot bobbled, and the next thing I knew, I had thankfully not entirely scalding liquid soaking the front of my newly cleaned restaurant uniform.
“Fudge!” I shouted, and approximately half of the restaurant’s patrons turned to look at us. That was only like three people, since we were halfway between the lunch and dinner rush.
Ally was nearly nine months pregnant and as round as the big table in back, but she’d managed to maintain both her footing and her composure. Unlike me. Of course, her new perfume wasn’t eau de java.
I didn’t even like coffee. Well, unless it was as close to ice cream in a cup as possible.
She patted my ample chest with the napkins she was yanking out by the sheaf from the nearest table dispenser. I couldn’t even be embarrassed about extreme nippling right now. Holy crap, that had been hot.
“Are you okay? Are you okay?” Ally repeated, setting down the coffeepot and shuffling to the next table for more napkins. “Oh God, did you get burned? Thank the Lord you starch your apron to within an inch of its life. It’s probably liquid-proof.”
“Funny. Leave this. I’ll take care of it. Oh, and do you remember Moose Masterson’s middle name?”
She didn’t reply. Guess that wasn’t important right now.
My cobwebbed lady garden could wait until the rest of me had been dried off.
I shook my damp phone and set it on a nearby booth as I untied my soaked apron and peeled it away from my top. Raising my brows, I deliberately wrung out the apron onto the newly polished floors.
By me. Who would be washing them again, since Ally was not in the condition to be doing such tasks. God forbid she squeeze out a football-sized child if she bent over wrong.
This was what I got for looking for love on company time.
“I’ll clean this mess up as soon as I switch to my backup shirt.” Holding my soaked apron far out to my side, I walked between the tables toward the storage room, squeezing out my shirttails with my other hand as I went.
Why the heck not? I’d be cleaning up the floor again anyway.
I swiftly realized why not when Greta, the new day-shift manager, bellowed through the kitchen as I hurried through it toward the break room. “Why is that floor a blooming mess when we’re about to serve our dinner patrons?”
“It’s my fault.” Ally hurried into the kitchen, her hands full of wet napkins. “I spilled coffee on Sage. It wasn’t her fault.”
“Sage, who was very obviously breaking our electronic resource policy during work hours?” Greta gave me a hard stare.
“I’m sorry,” I began, hunching my shoulders.
Showed what I got for chasing a wild hair into certain sex. There was no such thing as certain sex in my world. Wasn’t that why I had endured almost half a dozen near V-destroying misses?
“Get cleaning that mess up. Mitch will be in soon, and we don’t want him to see this place looking like a wreck.”
“On it,” Ally said. “I’ll take care of it before I leave.”
“I don’t think so.” I flew forward to grab her arm, though I’d already started unbuttoning my shirt. But hey, modesty wasn’t impo
rtant compared to protecting my preggo bestie.
“Like Hades. You go sit down and rest those swollen ankles. Or go back to filling the ketchup dispensers like you were earlier.”
“But—”
“No ifs, ands or buts. You’re going out on maternity leave this week. I’ll be darned if you do anything to cause my nephew to pop out early.”
Okay, so the child wasn’t technically a relation of mine, but close enough. I intended to spoil him as if he were family just the same.
Ally rubbed her lower back. “My kid isn’t that touchy, and neither am I. Besides, it was my fault. Balance is all off right now. I’ll take care of it.”
Evidently, Greta was not moved by our touching display of bestie concern. “I don’t care which of you ladies gets out there and cleans up that coffee, but one of you better get your behinds moving right now or else.”
I was about to tell Greta what exactly she could do to my behind—as in kiss it—when the sharp click of expensive shoes made me turn around.
And came face to chest with Oliver Hamilton.
He towered above my five-two by about a foot. Or three. Even though he was an identical twin, there was no doubting which Hamilton I was eye-to-pec with right now. Seth never wore full suits, instead often pairing dark jeans with a jacket and shirt, sans tie. Oliver seemed to wear nothing else. I’d only seen him in jeans twice, and once was when he was helping Seth with some work around the house. The jeans had looked fresh off the rack. Just as today’s suit looked custom and exquisitely cut to fit his chiseled frame.