Forbidden Baby Daddy: A Secret Baby Romance

by Lara Swann

  She really is so beautiful.

  The idea of anything happening to her is like a weight in the pit of my stomach, and I keep thinking about what I could possibly do to protect her from this mess - to protect us both - until Blake manages to sort it. If he manages. Though I don’t want to wonder about that right now. The thought of those guys coming back, especially if Chloe is here—

  “Hey.” She objects playfully, reaching over to nudge me. “Your eyes have gone all glazed over - you’re not paying any attention, huh? You could’ve just told me if it was boring you—”

  “No, no…” I say, reaching out to stroke her face and giving her a small smile. “You could never bore me. I was just distracted…you look so beautiful when you talk like that, you know. The passion in your eyes…what can I say, it evokes a certain passion in me too.”

  She laughs, rolling her eyes at me, but she blushes just a little bit too, softening against me at that comment. It’s not a lie, either, it is exactly what I was thinking…just before the other thoughts distracted me too.

  “I’m sorry, though.” I murmur, bringing my attention back to where it should be. “Do tell me what you were saying…I want to know everything that’s going on with you. I’ll listen this time, I promise.”

  She smiles at me, and then lets out a long sigh, shaking her head.

  “I don’t think it was actually all that interesting. I was just talking about how hard it is to work out what I want to do for my exhibition piece. I want something…that will stand out. Something special - but I have no idea what that might be. I wish I could get out there and see a few more exhibitions myself - that’s what Nathan suggested - see what inspires me—”

  “Yeah?” I ask, that thought suddenly sparking something in me. “You want to see more exhibitions? Somewhere…different?”

  “Yeah, exactly!” She says, looking slightly surprised I seemed to get it. “I’ve seen the ones around here dozens of times though. I wish I could see the big ones - somewhere like Philadelphia, or New York, but—”

  “You want to go to Philadelphia?”

  She laughs. “Well, yeah, but I’ve been wanting to do that for years. It’s not about to happen anytime soon—”

  “Why not?”

  “What?” She asks, twisting around where we’re sat together on the couch, to look at me properly.

  “We could go.” I offer immediately, knowing that it probably sounds crazy - and that I definitely have ulterior motives - but suddenly desperate to seize on the opportunity. “Why not? We could go to Philadelphia, make a weekend of it - you said you had the weekend off - so…let’s do it.”

  “Wait—what—really?” She looks at me as if a weekend trip is a totally implausible suggestion, and I pause for a moment.

  I mean, okay, it came out of nowhere, but people do these things all the time. It can’t be that strange.

  “Yeah, why not?”

  “I don’t—what about—my parents would never agree—”

  “Why do they need to?” I ask, making it sound casual.

  I’ve noticed the way she defers to her parents’ approval - sometimes for totally innocuous things - and if I’m honest, it makes me a little uncomfortable. That’s her business and her relationship to manage, I know that, but…I don’t much like the impression it gives me of them. I’ve told myself I’m not going to interfere unless she wants me to…but if I’ve got a chance to simply encourage her to question some of those automatic reactions, I’m going to take it.

  “Well…because…”

  “You’ve got the weekend off, right? We could just…go.” I say, grinning at her in a way that slowly turns wicked. “I wouldn’t mind having you all to myself for the whole weekend…”

  I lean toward her, until she starts tilting backward on the couch, shifting so that I’m just slightly on top of her and I can give her an impression of some of the things I have in mind. She giggles, and it’s such a lovely sound that I growl lightly in the back of my throat, dipping my head down to kiss her. She responds enthusiastically, hands tangling in my hair in the way she’s taken to doing, and by the time we break the kiss, I think she’s a whole lot more convinced.

  “Yeah?” She breathes.

  “Yeah.” I murmur, nuzzling at her lips again. “Let’s go to Philadelphia, Chloe. First thing tomorrow - you, me and the bike.”

  “And all the art exhibitions.” She adds, slightly wide-eyed.

  “And all of those.”

  “Okay.” She says, finally grinning. “Let’s do it! Why not, let’s just go!”

  She laughs, in a way that sounds wild and free and exactly how I want her to feel. I find myself grinning too, some of the worry and concern of moments before sliding off me with the decision.

  It doesn’t change anything - I know that. This mess will still be here for me to deal with when I come back. All it does is buy me a little bit of time, and stop the weekend with me from putting Chloe in danger - but all that might be enough. It gives Blake time.

  Sure, it feels like running away - and it is - but right now, I don’t want to be thinking about any of that shit. Sometimes running away is the best thing to do.

  Besides, a weekend away with Chloe?

  That sounds fucking fantastic for that reason alone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chloe

  The next morning, we get up and leave for Philadelphia. Just like that. For one of the best weekends of my entire life.

  It feels surreal and unusual to me, even as we’re doing it, but that only adds to the thrill and excitement of the whole thing. We settle on Philadelphia instead of New York so that we can have more time together exploring the city instead of traveling - and since we’re going by motorcycle, I’m a little relieved. I’ve loved Ash’s bikes every time I’ve ridden one, but I’m still not entirely sure what I think about traveling that far on one.

  I would still love to go to New York sometime, but Philadelphia is still more than exciting enough - and Ash promises me that the next trip, it will be New York. I’m just blissfully happy at how certain he sounds that we’ll do this again. Suddenly, life is looking like it’s full of endless possibilities.

  I text my Dad to tell him I’m going to Philadelphia for the weekend with a friend - just so Mom and Dad know where I am - but then I turn my phone off. It feels more than a little rebellious and naughty, even if it probably shouldn’t. Like Ash said, why shouldn’t I do something like this? I’m an adult and I’ve got the whole weekend off - they don’t need me around - and other people do things like this all the time.

  I know they won’t see it that way, though. We’ve been on family vacations to other cities and places before, but it’s always been together. Any time I’ve wanted to go and do something myself, or with friends, they’ve always been resistant - claiming they want to protect me from bad influences. I guess that didn’t quite work out for them, since I ended up meeting Ash anyway…and now…well, I’m starting to think I might be becoming incorrigible, as they’d say. As time goes on, I’m feeling less and less bad about that, too.

  I’ll have to deal with the fallout from this little impromptu trip when I get home, of course, that’s obvious. I can switch off my phone but I can’t delay facing their reactions forever. Right now, though, that doesn’t matter. It feels liberating just to leave it all behind - to refuse to think about it until I get back.

  This weekend is for Ash and I.

  We take a different bike this time, which surprises me - a combination of him saying that he’s working on a couple of repairs to the other one, and that this one will be more comfortable for a longer trip. It’s much bigger, with panniers and all sorts of extras - padded, upright seats that look almost like armchairs in themselves, far more bodywork and even a windshield - so I can see what he means.

  If I’m honest about it, I think it looks a little ugly - but once it’s loaded up and he’s found me some spare gear of his for the ride, we head out of Baltimore and cruise onto the I-9
5 - and I start to appreciate the bike more and more, sinking into the seat and relaxing as I cuddle up behind him.

  “This is great.” I yell into my helmet, linked up to his with bluetooth, as the wind whips past us, traveling at speeds we couldn’t possibly reach on the small roads the other bike tackled. I think the bike probably could have - just not the roads.

  “You don’t need to shout, you know.” His voice comes through clearly, at a totally normal volume, and I can sense the wince in it.

  “Sorry.” I say. “It’s just the wind all around us makes it feel like it’s impossible to talk…I can barely hear my own voice as it is.”

  I hear his slight laughter. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “I hope so.” I say, grinning as best I can in the helmet that seems to want to squash my face.

  The idea of doing more of this - enough to get used to it - is exhilarating. The ride goes much quicker than I expect - enough that I’m wondering whether it would have been fun to go all the way to New York - but I’m excited to get into Philadelphia too. There’s so much I want to see and do - and we spend the weekend doing all of it.

  We hit up the Museum of Art first, of course, and I spend hours there, walking around and looking at it all. I’m sure Ash must get totally fed up with my avid interest within minutes, but he doesn’t act like it. If anything, he encourages me to stay longer when I start feeling like we really should go and do something that he’d be interested in, too. Instead, he asks me to talk to him about what I see, what I like, the different techniques I’m fascinated by and what’s going on behind the simple picture that he sees.

  It’s an invitation I can’t resist and even though I wonder how much he’s just asking for my benefit, it all spills out of me - everything I see and think and feel as I walk around - and he really listens. He seems genuinely happy to be here with me - and by the time we do eventually make our way out I feel so warm and happy that I might burst.

  We do other tourist things too, of course - visiting Independence Hall and all the sites of the revolution - and although it can’t beat the museum for me, I’m still fascinated to see things I’ve only heard about before. Ash seems more interested in my reactions than the actual sites themselves, but that just makes me feel even more special. It’s impossible to forget for a moment that he’s the whole reason I’m here - that I can even do this.

  That evening, we visit the late opening galleries, in between food and bars and other places, and the whole thing is just magical. I see a dozen things that inspire me and all sorts of ideas start forming in my head as I look around. I think just being out of Baltimore for a while - being away from the day-to-day life I’m so used to - even without the art, that would have done it.

  I couldn’t ask for more from the couple of days we spend exploring together…and the night…well that’s something all by itself. Ash pays for a fancy hotel, even when I try to insist we don’t need anything like it, and…oh my…by the end of it, I think he’s convinced me that we needed it a little. Sure, it’s pure self-indulgence, but then that’s what this whole trip is. And considering the heated, passionate way we spend the night…I think we make the most of the room. Every part of it.

  By the time we reluctantly load up the bike to start the trip back home, I’m totally buzzing, ridiculously happy and in love with Philadelphia. I think it’s the best city I’ve ever visited - and I know a large part of that is due to Ash, and what it was like spending time together like this. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much warmth and care and consideration, or so supported in the things that matter to me.

  It’s still hard to believe he spent so long looking at art with me, just because I wanted to, even though I told him a dozen times we could find something more interesting for him to do. The idea of anyone wanting to be around me that much is more than a little bit overwhelming.

  I sit a little further forward on the way home, my arms wrapped around his chest and my head resting on his shoulder. I just want to be close to him - to touch him and have this for as long as I can. Before we get back. I refuse to think about everything getting back will mean right now. I want to stay in this happy, floaty bubble for as long as I possibly can.

  “D’you mind if we take a little detour?” He asks, after we’ve been on the road for about forty minutes. “I thought we could drive up through White Clay State Park, see some of the surroundings and maybe stop off for a little bit, stretch our legs.”

  We didn’t consider stretching our legs on the way up here, far too interested in getting to Philadelphia to start the weekend than anything else, and the suggestion makes me wonder whether he’s as reluctant to end this getaway as I am.

  “Yeah, I’d love to - that sounds great.” I say, the warmth obvious in my voice.

  The more we can prolong this, the better.

  He turns off at the next exit and we start riding down smaller roads, giving me a chance to look around a little more as our speed drops.

  “Have you been there before?” I ask.

  “Yeah, a few times.” He says. “It’s got some great trails.”

  I smile. I might be enamored with art museums and galleries, but I’m starting to get the impression that after a while, Ash starts itching to be outside - really outside, away from the cities and roads and traffic. It feels a little surprising from someone born and bred in the middle of a city, but then again, knowing what I do about the kind of neighborhoods he grew up…maybe it’s more understandable than I think.

  We enter the State Park and he slows down even further, taking us along the roads until we reach an area that doesn’t even have a proper car park - good enough for a bike, I guess, but I can’t imagine many people stopping here. Though, as we stop, I guess that’s the point.

  “C’mon.” He says, taking my hand and leading me down a small path, barely there for some of the undergrowth growing up around it. “There’s a place down here…”

  I follow him, and from the breeze whipping slightly around my face, I can tell the sun has started to drop in the sky. It’s not yet full evening-chill, but it’s got a slight touch of it. It makes me feel even more warm and snug in the heavy protective layers I’m wearing, and the contrast to how it feels while we’re riding fast down the Interstate is almost gentle.

  The path opens up in front of us and Ash moves over to let me walk through - to an open space, the light woodland behind us dropping away to reveal a field full of fresh spring grass, with the sound of water running over stone just a little further on. I walk forward, following the path to what becomes a small bridge over the little stream. It’s a lovely sight and I glance back at Ash as I stop on the bridge, letting him come up behind me.

  “I always like it here.” He says. “It’s quiet - the crowds don’t tend to come up this way, even when it’s busier here - and there are so many paths to get lost in.”

  “Is that the plan?” I ask lightly as I turn to look out at the water running below. “To get lost tonight?”

  I feel a little bit wistful as I say it, almost wishing we could. Some part of me would like to get lost right now, and never go back.

  He laughs. “I just thought you might like the view here - but we can come back another time to get lost, if you want.”

  I smile. That’s been his answer to everything so far.

  We can always come back and do that - do more - do anything.

  It’s such a nice feeling.

  “Thank you.” I murmur softly, feeling more relaxed than I can remember being for a long time, glancing over my shoulder at him. “For the whole weekend - for convincing me to come and just…doing it. It’s been…unbelievable. Everything I could have wanted.”

  He smiles gently at me, his eyes warm.

  “You deserve to be spoiled a little, Chloe.” He says, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist so his hands rest lightly on my stomach. “You’re the mother of my child - this is what I want to give you.”

  It’s a gesture he’s
been doing more lately, and it always makes me feel so warm to have him stroking my belly like that, wanting to feel our baby even though there’s not really anything to feel yet. I lean back, letting him take some of my weight as I sigh softly, my head leaning back against his shoulder and his chest warming my back.

  “I love being the mother of your child.” I say softly, my voice barely audible as feelings surge up inside me, wanting to say so much more. Meaning so much more.

  The air thickens between us, I can sense it, so much unspoken that—

  “Chloe.” He says, his deep voice going all the way through me as he turns me around, leaning down to kiss me before meeting my gaze with his own. What I see there has my heart skipping a beat in my chest, as a strange mix of longing and hope rises up within me. “You’re more than the mother of my child - you mean more to me than that.”

  He raises a hand to my face, caressing my cheek gently. “I wasn’t sure, at first, and it was such a shock hearing about the baby - but all this time we’ve spent together…I can’t deny it anymore. I don’t just want to have a baby with you, Chloe - I want to be with you. I want to do this properly.”

  I swallow, the words I never thought I’d hear reverberating through me.

  “Really?” I breathe, knowing that my eyes are starting to glisten and blinking to try and clear it.

  “Really.” He says, his voice certain and full of so many things that make so much more sense now. Then he smirks at me, just a little. “I mean, that’s pretty much what we were doing anyway. We just weren’t talking about it.”

  That startles a laugh out of me, and I step forward into him, wrapping my arms around his chest and hugging him tightly as his own come around me.

  “That okay by you?” He asks, and I realize I haven’t actually said anything.

  I nod hard against his chest, slightly overcome with emotion.