Forbidden Baby Daddy: A Secret Baby Romance

by Lara Swann

  The slight smirk in his expression has me fighting a blush again, but I cover it by pulling the helmet on and fiddling with the straps - letting him help me again. Something about the thought of riding on the back of the bike with him gets my blood pumping again, and I let that distract me from the insinuation as I settle myself on the back of the bike. I hold on firmly and he checks with me before starting it up, the engine thrumming to life under me.

  We start speeding away and I relax into the sensation of it, my mind flying back to that magical night all those weeks ago. It’s not what I should be thinking about, I know that. It’s how we got into this whole situation in the first place. But…it was something special, too, and impossible to simply forget about. I guess it had to be, to create a child.

  We head east, and it’s not until he starts weaving his way in between blocks that I start recognizing some of the decidedly bad parts of town. The nerves come back, and by the time he parks up I’m looking around awkwardly and second-guessing my request. I mean, sure, no one I know is going to be looking for me here, but at the same time…what if I need them to?

  “Hey, nothing to worry about.” He says, obviously reading my expression once we’ve both removed our helmets. “I grew up around here.”

  I blink, looking around again. His words are an echo of Nat’s too - but this time, I actually believe them. I had to venture into some of the not-so-good parts of town to find him at his shop in the Highlands, but that wasn’t too bad. This, though? I’ve heard more than enough stories about the areas around East Madison Street to know that it’s not somewhere I want to visit.

  He wraps an arm around my shoulder, starting to walk us forward as I try not to look around too much. I can’t deny it, I’m more than a little scared - but his arm does feel nice.

  “You’re fine, Chloe, I promise.” He murmurs in my ear, and a little shiver goes down my spine - not from fear, either.

  “Okay, just…you know what you’re doing, right?”

  “I’m taking you some place new.” He says, glancing over with that slight smirk and a delicious sparkle in his eye. “One of my favorites, actually.”

  “Okay.” I echo, shifting slightly closer to his body.

  With the obvious strength of his rock-hard body right next to me, it’s hard to feel too worried - but I’m still relieved when we come to a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant and Ash leads me inside. I’ve heard too many things about those streets to want to be out in them for long.

  I belatedly remember my promise to Mom earlier, that I knew I was never intending to keep - but I also didn’t think I’d break this badly - and feel a little guilty.

  Then that disappears as the low-key hubbub of the place washes over me. There’s a bar pressed up against one wall, making as much room as it can for the mostly-occupied stools and tables that are crammed together across the rest of the space, with the heavenly scent of pure comfort food lingering over it all.

  “Oh…my…”

  Ash chuckles beside me, taking my hand and leading me through a curtain to a back area - where the booths aren’t quite so close together and we manage to slip into one without a fuss. The room is dim and there are candles spaced around it in a way that I’m sure doesn’t meet the latest fire-safety standards, but add somewhat to the atmosphere anyway - and give me a chance to actually see Ash’s expression opposite.

  When I do, I have to remind myself - firmly - that this is not a date. We’re just here to talk…even if he is looking at me like that. Even if he’s wrapped his arm around me, held my hand and made an effort to take care of me so far.

  Maybe that’s just what guys do for women pregnant with their baby? Even if they’re not together or anything.

  “This okay?” He asks, and I’m surprised at how readily I nod - and how much I immediately like the place, too.

  There’s a gentle hum of noise and I’m pretty sure no one is going to be listening to our conversation, there’s no way anyone will recognize me, and it almost feels like we’re in our own little bubble.

  “Yeah.” I say. “Thanks, Ash.”

  He smiles, shrugging. “No problem.”

  A waitress comes by a moment later - something I was sure wasn’t going to happen here - and when Ash orders the fried chicken burger, I follow suit. I figure he knows what he’s doing. I don’t copy him on the beer, though, just getting water myself.

  “Oh, right…of course.” He says, his eyes drifting down to my stomach. “You don’t mind if I…”

  “No, no, it’s fine.” I say, a little embarrassed. Even here, where I’m sure the waitress isn’t the slightest bit interested, it’s still so strange to allude to my pregnancy out loud - and especially in front of other people. “I wouldn’t have wanted beer anyway.”

  He nods, and the waitress moves away to pass on our order as I fidget slightly in my chair.

  “So…” I start, unsure how to begin - or ask any of the dozens of questions spinning through my mind. “I’m sorry about springing all that on you…before…”

  He shakes his head. “That’s okay. It was always going to be a shock, no way of changing that.”

  “Yeah.” I agree, hesitating as I continue, not sure how to talk about any of this. “Have you…had a chance to think about it some more?”

  “A bit, yeah. It’s still so hard to believe, though…I mean, a baby…” He shakes his head again, looking relieved when our drinks appear a moment later. He waits until the waitress leaves to continue, glancing up at me. “How are you feeling about it now?”

  I pause for a moment, hovering over whether to answer honestly or not - the way I feel seems a little stupid, but I mean, if I can’t be honest with the relative stranger who fathered my baby, we’ve got no chance of working this out.

  “Better.” I finally say, letting the word out on a sigh. “It’s still…it still feels crazy to me, too, but…well…I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m actually…okay with it, you know?”

  I chew on the end of my lip, not wanting him to think I’ve suddenly gone baby-crazy or that I might have wanted this to happen in the first place or anything - but wanting to talk about some of the feelings that have been building inside me over the last couple of weeks.

  “I know it will change everything for me, but, you know, maybe that’s not a bad thing. Maybe I could do with a few things in my life changing. I—I’m still scared—but—well—I want to do this. I want this baby, Ash - and not just because I couldn’t go through with any other alternative.”

  There. I said it. I’ve reiterated everything I already told him - I’m pregnant and I’m keeping this baby. So now…now I guess I get to see whether he still means anything he said, too.

  He nods slowly, holding my gaze.

  “I think I get that. I think, maybe…” He lets out a deep breath, his fingers tapping on the table. “It’s a shock, Chloe, but…well, when you said you were pregnant…I don’t know, it freaked me out, but it wasn’t exactly a bad freak out. I’ll be honest, I don’t know what the hell to do with a baby - I don’t know the first thing about kids - but I still feel the same way I did back when you told me. I’m glad you want to keep it, even if it is going to change everything and I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”

  I let out the breath I’d been holding, feeling like all my twisted insides are pouring out of me at the same time. I reach forward to grab his hand, squeezing it tightly, unable to help myself as I look into his eyes.

  “Yeah?” I breathe, knowing that the hope I feel is probably written all over my face, but knowing I’m unable to contain it even if I tried.

  He squeezes my hand back, and I can’t read the expression on his face as it softens slightly.

  “Yeah.” He nods, his voice rough.

  I close my eyes, squeezing them tightly shut for a moment before opening them again, just to make sure this is real and he’s still right in front of me. He reaches for his beer, raising it towards me.

  “I guess…well, I guess
we’re having a baby.” He says, his voice almost laughing, though I don’t know whether it’s slightly hysterical.

  I feel almost hysterical myself - but I mirror his actions, clinking my water against his beer and taking a sip, even if water doesn’t feel like quite the right thing to toast with. I appreciate the sentiment anyway.

  “Yeah.” I repeat, letting the smile slowly spread over my face as I confirm it. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

  He lets out a short laugh again, shrugging and rolling his shoulders a little. “So…mm…how do you want to do this?”

  “What, um, what do you mean?”

  “Well…are we…I guess we’re gonna co-parent it together, then?”

  “Oh, um…yeah. Yeah, I guess so.”

  I mean, that’s the only real option, right? It’s not like we’re suddenly going to settle down, get married and start a family or anything. This is the third time I’ve ever seen the guy.

  That doesn’t stop the slight twist in my stomach though, the slight wistfulness at the thought of doing this the way it’s supposed to be done.

  Don’t think about that, Chloe. You’ve gone from no father to an active co-parent. That’s more than you could have asked for from a one-night stand.

  Besides, Ash doesn’t seem like the marrying type. I’m surprised he’s willing to accept the tie of a child - anything else…yeah, that’s not going to happen.

  He smiles at me, gray eyes sparkling a little now that some of the confusion and hesitancy has faded. “Cool.”

  I blink, my own mouth curving up at that simple acknowledgment, and I laugh a little.

  “Cool?” I repeat. “That’s it?”

  I’m not sure I’d be able to condense the decision to co-parent our baby into a simple word like that. It feels like it should have more to it - that there should be more to discuss, something momentous we need to debate.

  “Well.” He shrugs. “I don’t know the first thing about parenting, so I don’t have any particularly strong opinions about how we do that just yet. If I find any along the way I’ll be sure let you know, but for the moment I’m just going to wing it.”

  That makes me laugh too, and I’m surprised at how easy this suddenly feels. He has a way of saying things…

  “Yeah?” I ask, grinning now. I can’t help quite help myself.

  “I figure this way, I’m less likely to freak out about how little I know.” He winks at me, and I have to stop myself from squirming in my seat as remembered heat runs all the way through me.

  Considering how uptight and tense I’ve been about this for the last couple of weeks…his relaxed attitude is such a welcome relief that I find myself sinking into it.

  “But, you know, if you’ve already worked it all out, I guess we can start discussing the details if you want…”

  I shake my head. “I don’t have a clue either.”

  With him, it’s not even hard to say it. Anyone else, I’d worry they’d judge me for not knowing how it’s going to work yet - for this whole situation - but not Ash. He just admitted exactly the same thing.

  “Well then.” He smiles, raising his glass again. “We’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.”

  And just like that, some of the pressure falls off me.

  We.

  We’ve got time to figure it out. Not only do I have someone who makes me feel like everything is under control - I have someone whose planning to work it out with me. The relief swamps me, and I laugh again, enjoying the simple way he makes me feel.

  “I guess we do.” I smile back, sipping at my water and wishing for a glass of wine.

  This meal is starting to feel like fun, and Ash is the kind of guy who makes me want to indulge all my senses. The food appears a few moments later and I forget all about the wine as I breathe in the scent of perfectly fried food. I don’t often go for this sort of thing, but it’s exactly what I’m craving right now - all the things I shouldn’t have. I look at Ash as I think that, and have to drop my eyes back to my food immediately.

  Oh no, Chloe. Don’t go there. You just got this worked out. Or he did. Or you did together.

  “So, what’s this art class about then?” Ash asks as we start eating, surprising me. “Are you a student here? We should probably get to know each other a bit, if we’re going to raise a kid together and all.”

  I can’t object to that, so we spend the rest of the meal doing exactly that - with me answering his questions, and then asking some of my own. We keep it fairly high level, not wanting to delve into personal or sensitive issues right away, but it’s still fascinating and fun.

  I talk a little about my parents and working at their shop, but don’t mention too much before telling him about the art class I’m taking and all the hopes and dreams I have for it. He tells me about his bike shop with the same enthusiasm, talking about setting it up from nothing and how it’s finally starting to pay the bills - and I’m thrilled for him, just hearing him describe it all and how much it means to him. It’s exactly the kind of success I hope to make for myself.

  I hear a little about his family, too - his Mom, living over in Dover near her sister, who he visits every so often - and what it was like growing up in this part of Baltimore. What he says makes me feel bad all over again for the occasional complaints I have about my own family. He doesn’t mention his father, either, and I don’t ask.

  It does make me wonder what my parents will think of him, though, when they eventually find out. I don’t want to imagine it right now, but I can guess what they’ll say - about his background, and his family, and even him - and it frustrates me, especially right now when I can see the light and life in his eyes, the humor as he laughs and jokes with me, and all I can think about is what a wonderful father he’ll make for our kid.

  Maybe that’s skipping ahead a little - but when I look in his eyes, I can’t help myself.

  “You know.” I say, smiling slightly after the food is done and we’re sitting back contentedly, enjoying the easy conversation. “I’m still kind of shocked and a bit scared, but…it’s kind of exciting, too. I—I think I’m looking forward to it.”

  He smiles, his eyes warm as he looks at me. “I know what you mean.”

  The way he says it, I really think he does. It’s not at all hard to believe that he shares the same excitement and thrill as I do. I smile back, feeling more relaxed than I can remember since I first found out about the baby. I don’t know what it is about him, exactly, but sitting here like this I just feel safe. Like everything is going to work out and, for this small amount of time, I can forget about how on earth I’m going to deal with everything and just enjoy it.

  That’s what having a baby is meant to be about, isn’t it?

  As we talk, that’s not the only thing I start feeling, either. Being with him like this, it’s all too easy to think about how it ended last time - the night that created this situation in the first place - and how much fun we had, speeding around on his motorcycle before he gave me one of the best experiences of my life.

  I’m surprised at how quickly the chemistry comes back, the light flirting and casual banter between us sparking it until it feels like a living thing, a thickness in the air between us that we’re not-quite ignoring. I would have thought after what happened last time - with how much more important it is to be sensible now - I would have learned better. But no, everything about him still draws me in and leaves me wanting so much more.

  I try to ignore it. Really I do.

  We talk until it gets late and I think I’m doing a good job at managing the heat bubbling just under my skin - until the waitress comes around to tell us they’re closing, and I wonder what happened to all the time. We walk outside together, still caught up in conversation - about entirely superfluous subjects now, but things that nonetheless feel like absolutely pressing debates - and he guides me back to his bike.

  This time, I don’t even notice the surroundings we pass, even though it’s dark and I should be much more worried about t
he potential danger of it.

  We pause beside the bike and he reaches over to pass me the helmet, cocking his head at me.

  “So…shall I take you home now?” He murmurs, quietly, and electricity jumps across my skin as it feels exactly like it did that first night.

  “Um…maybe…maybe we could go somewhere else for a little while first?” I say, flushing as I echo the same thing I said then. “Just to…finish the conversation.”

  I mean it when I say that, too. I really do want to continue our debate about the best way to revitalize some of Baltimore’s more deprived areas. But I also know, the moment it comes out and the heat in his gaze sparks, that what I’m suggesting isn’t really going to be talking.

  He smiles, something in his gaze turning dangerous as it spreads across his face.

  “Yeah. We can go somewhere else first.”

  I pull my helmet on before he can notice the deep flush of my face - if he even can in the mostly busted street lighting around these parts - and also before I can change my mind. He has the same air of urgency to him, and within moments we’re riding down the streets, twisting and turning with a skill and speed that makes me feel like he’s done this a dozen times at once.

  I’m caught between wanting to tell him to slow down - I’ve got a baby now to think about - and just wanting to enjoy it, and before I can decide, he’s pulling into his shop, the garage door opening for the bike as we ride in.

  I think I’m a little surprised - considering the motel we ended up in the first time, I wasn’t expecting him to bring me back here - but then, I guess I already know the place, now. I don’t have time to think much about it, as we tug the helmets off and he discards some of the gear before leading me up the stairs to the small living space above. It’s much smaller than the one above my parents’ shop, but apart from the bathroom it’s all one room and he’s not sharing it with anyone else, so it almost feels more spacious.