AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories)

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AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories) Page 9

by Carmella Jones


  “We are. The band and I have known each other for some time. Our founder and lead singer has been a friend of mine since college, but he decided to focus on the tech and production side of things,” he said still smiling. “Let’s go get your luggage.”

  We made our way through baggage claim and to his car. He dropped me off at the hotel and invited me to join the band for dinner that night after I had time to rest. We would begin recording the next day.

  At the hotel I took a short nap, then showered and dressed for dinner. I wasn’t sure where they planned to go for dinner. To avoid being over- or underdressed, I wore a knee-length black dress with a silver belt and silver sandals. I left my hair down and didn’t wear any jewelry except for earrings.

  When I went to the lobby I didn’t see Mr. Springfield. I waited a few minutes and no one came so I checked in with the woman at the front desk.

  “Yes, Ms. Bowen. A car has been sent for you. The driver should be just outside,” she said, smiling pleasantly.

  “Thank you,” I said, returning her smile and adding a nod.

  Outside the door, a man in a suit seemed to recognize me. He stood beside a nice luxury car and gave a slight bow, opened the door, and gave a wave of his hand for me to take a seat. I said a brief thanks and watched as he drove to the restaurant. Little Rock was a nice city. It was larger than I expected. I felt concerned about being underdressed, considering the driver service.

  We arrived at a place called Brave New Restaurant. The driver parked at the door and came to the back passenger side door to help me out of the car. Once inside a hostess asked if I had reservations.

  “I’m meeting a few people. It should be under Mr. Springfield or Sounds of Lawlessness, I imagine,” I said unsure if that was correct.

  She gave me a knowing smile and said, “Yes, you are with Mr. Lawson. Right this way.”

  “Mr. Lawson,” I said.

  As I followed her, more and more about the entire situation began to make sense. The name of the band and the name of his company. The mention of the change of direction in college. The lack of information provided with initial message and CD.

  David.

  As we reached the table I was unsure whether I was happy or angry. It was hard to be angry when I was in such a beautiful restaurant.

  “Alright, your waitress will be with you shortly,” the hostess said and returned to her podium.

  David stood as I arrived at the table, then came around to help me push in my seat. Once we were seated he didn’t leave much opportunity for me to speak.

  “You probably feel like I have tricked you, and I suppose in some ways I have. I do have a band and we do travel and play bars and small venues. I have no intention of making it anything larger than it is. I do want you to record with us and join us on our coming tour. You don’t want to date me, but I think that you really just need an opportunity to get to know me,” he said.

  “David, this is all really sweet and I appreciate the effort you made. You didn’t have to orchestrate all this with the tour and recording though,” I said.

  “Would you have talked to me otherwise?” he asked.

  “Well, I didn’t give you the apology you deserved before. I shouldn’t have let all my personal judgments affect our time together. Once I learned more about you I realized you were probably the opposite of everything I had known,” I said.

  “Are you saying I have a chance?” he asked, smiling.

  “I’m saying,” I paused to think, “I need to think.”

  He looked disappointed for a moment. Then, he looked at me with determination.

  “Okay, feel free to think, but I want to tell you I don’t need to think. Something in me sparked when I first saw you. A fire lit in me the night we were together and has fueled more and more even as you’ve resisted me. Seeing you tonight, I know I won’t give up,” he said.

  His eyes were locked on mine and never broke our gaze. I cleared my throat and reached for my water glass. The waitress came to take our order and he waved her off before she could speak.

  “There is a lot that comes with an interracial relationship. I don’t know if you are ready for that,” I said.

  “I don’t care about that. I care about you,” he replied.

  “Besides, I don’t know if I could date a billionaire, you probably have to spend a good bit of time in the public eye,” I continued.

  “I’m just a man who works hard for a living and I avoid media as much as possible,” he said making his way around the table.

  “We live so far apart. There is a lot to think about if we were to have a relationship,” I said quickly.

  “We both travel a lot anyway. I would be willing to join you on your trips or fly you to meet me. Eventually we could agree on somewhere to live if you were willing,” he said, standing beside my chair and taking my hand.

  My mind was racing with all the things that could stand in our way. As quickly as I thought of problems, he had a solution.

  The waitress returned.

  “Two bottles of wine, one red and one white. Two of whatever the best item is on the menu tonight and two desserts,” he said to the waitress while still facing me. “Please tell the chef the order is for me and I would like it to go.”

  She nodded and returned to the kitchen.

  “Let’s take the food and everything to the hotel and we can continue to talk if you need more convincing,” he said.

  “Are you sure you don’t plan on using other methods to convince me?” I asked.

  He kneeled at my chair and kissed me. I knew immediately that I had missed his kiss.

  “I have been holding myself back from so much and so many people. I have had all these opinions and observations and projected them on everyone I have come in contact with. I have been right in many circumstances, but how many times have I been wrong? I stopped so many relationships before they could even get started,” I said shaking my head.

  He still held my hands.

  “That could all change,” he said comfortingly.

  I thought a bit longer. I nodded to him.

  “Okay, let’s go to the hotel. I do want to talk though,” I said.

  “Absolutely,” he nodded.

  He sat in his chair, seeming more excited. I felt a bit excited as well. The things holding me back from David had been things I projected on him, and over time I would learn that all those things were not the way I perceived them.

  When our food arrived, David and I left the restaurant. He dismissed the car he initially hired for me. He led me to his SUV and opened the passenger side door.

  “This isn’t what I would expect for a billionaire,” I commented aloud.

  “I’m not what most people expect when they get to know me. I drive a normal car. I live in a three-bedroom house within driving distance of my hometown. When I’ m not working I play music with a band I started in college. We were making a name for ourselves locally before my first breakthrough with the Bluetooth adjustments. Each of the other guys had good things happen for them as well with work or family, so we still perform locally. I’m a normal guy. I like sports bars, video games, and want a home and family,” he said as he drove.

  “What happened with your fiancé?” I asked.

  “We dated all through high school. I proposed in college. It seemed like things were going well, but she started cheating on me in college. She came clean about it though. We are still friends, but I couldn’t forgive her,” he said.

  I didn’t really know what to say. The rest of the ride to the hotel was in silence.

  When he parked the car he came around to my door and held it as I got out. He held the door as we walked into the hotel as well. When we reached my room, before I opened the door, I turned to face him.

  “I do like you. I like you more than I’ve wanted to allow myself to,” I said.

  “Well, that’s reassuring,” he said.

  “I’ve thought about you a lot,” I added.

  “Yo
u have been my only thought,” he replied.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  He kissed me once more.

  “I’ve never had a doubt,” he said.

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  The Scottish Warrior

  Aidan reined in Strider as he scanned the surrounding terrain. Both of their breaths formed gentle plumes in the crisp February air. The battle was won, a decisive victory for the Scots. But though the clash of battle had been replaced by the more subdued sounds of camp being set up, Aidan could not rest easy. The waters of the Killburne Creek still ran red with blood. He was far enough from camp that its sounds were lost to him. Only silence greeted him as he peered into the trees.

  After a long moment he turned Strider back toward camp and set out at a trot. But he pulled up sharp as he heard a sharp scream from the trees. He turned Strider back toward the tree line and kicked him into a gallop, following the sound of the now muffled screams. He had barely broken through the tree line when he saw them.

  The girl he did not recognize. She was wraith thin, struggling for all she was worth against a man who was easily twice her size. He had her shoved against a tree, her slight wrists pinned above her head in one of his meaty fists. His other hand was working up her skirt as she struggled. The bodice of her dress, torn beyond repair, hung from her slender shoulders and left her pale breasts bare.

  The man Aidan did recognize. Most nights he could be found half drunk at the fire, bragging loudly about the women he had bedded or made a conquest of. He always seemed more proud of the unwilling conquests.

  “Graeme,” Aidan bellowed as he dismounted.

  He could tell he had taken the other man by surprise. But he recovered quickly, withdrawing his hand from her skirt and reaching up to cup her breast. She tried to cringe away from him as tears ran down her face.

  “Ah, laddie,” Graeme replied, leering at the girl. “I mean her no harm. We’re just havin’ a wee bit of fun, that’s all.” He twisted her nipple viciously as he spoke and she cried out miserably. Aidan’s blood boiled as he unsheathed his sword.

  “Unhand her,” he said in a low, dangerous voice as he stepped toward them. The girl held her breath, her wide eyes locked on Aidan as the two men stared at one another in silence.

  “Nay, lad, I think not,” Graeme finally said, turning back to the girl with a smirk. She let her breath out in a long shudder and squeezed her eyes shut.

  Aidan ground his teeth together as he stepped forward. He decided not to waste any more words on Graeme. He closed the gap between them and then, in one swift motion, he struck him hard on the back of the head with the hilt of his sword. Graeme crumpled to the ground at Aidan’s feet.

  The girl, no longer held up by Graeme’s captivating hand, fell down on top of him. Her eyes flew open in surprise and she scrambled sideways, away from Graeme and the tree. Then she stumbled to her feet, covering herself as best she could with her slender arms.

  “Are ye alright?” he asked her.

  She shivered against the cold as she took another step back from Aidan, eyeing him warily. Finally she gave him a single curt nod.

  “Good,” he said, unclasping his cloak.

  The girl stumbled backward several steps as he moved toward her. He stopped and held up his hands in a placating gesture.

  “I mean ye no harm,” he said. He immediately cringed as he noticed the similarity of his words to Graeme’s.

  He held his cloak out, averting his gaze from her bare breasts as he offered it to her. Hesitantly she approached him and took the cloak.

  “Thank ye,” she said quietly as she settled it around her shoulders. She glanced warily at Graeme’s crumpled form before returning her gaze to Aidan. He looked up at the darkening sky.

  “Shall I take ye home?” he asked her.

  “Nay,” she said, clutching the cloak tightly around her as she shook her head. “Best not, I think.” And with that she backed away a few more steps before turning and running away through the darkening trees.

  Aidan watched her as she disappeared into the twilight of the forest. He did not pursue her.

  *****

  Rhona fought to catch her breath as she reached the clearing where her father’s cottage stood. She slumped against a tree, clutching the stranger’s cloak against her. She had run all the way, not stopping for anything. Part of her wished she had accepted his offer to bring her home. But she had been too shaken after what had happened to trust him enough to show him where she lived. She shuddered involuntarily. If he had found them just a few moments later….

  Things had been bad enough as it was and she didn’t want to think about it. Her breast still hurt. She shook the dark thoughts off and set off across the clearing to the cottage. It was after dark and her father was no doubt worried sick by now. She was not looking forward to explaining what had happened, but with her dress in such a state there would be no avoiding it. She steeled herself for the conversation as she pushed the door open.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her father slumped in his chair, snoring lightly. The fire burned low in the fireplace, casting long shadows and wan light across the room. She picked up a candle that stood lit on the table, made her way quietly to her room, and slipped into her night clothes. Then she stowed the dress under her mattress. She could dispose of it later.

  She was about to blow out the candle and lie down when she heard her father begin to stir.

  “Rhona,” he called out. “Is that ye I hear?”

  “Aye,” she called back. “Coming, da.”

  Her father’s face was filled with relief as she sat down beside him.

  “I was feart ye weren’t comin’ back,” he told her. “What took ye so long?”

  “’Twas nothin’, da,” she said, shaking her head. “Nothin’ to fret about.”

  “I dreamt ye were in trouble,” he told her.

  His words startled her Rhona fought to keep her features neutral.

  “’Twas naught but a dream, da. I’m here and I’m fine,” she said.

  He gave her a long questioning look. Rhona squirmed uneasily under his gaze. She knew that he had the Sight. But she also knew that it came to him unpredictably. She had no doubt that his dream had told him exactly what had happened. But she hoped that the unpredictability of his gift would cause him to doubt it.

  Her father was a great man and had been a strong one in his time. But these last few years his health had begun to fail him. She worried that the knowledge of what had almost happened to her would be too much for him to bear. She held her breath as he continued to question her with his eyes.

  She was on the verge of breaking down, admitting that he was right and telling him everything. But then he shrugged.

  “Aye,” he said. “Ye are here and ye’re well,” he said with a tired smile.

  Rhona had to make a conscious effort not to visibly sag with relief.

  “Aye,” she said. “And now, may I walk ye to yer chambers?” She could tell by the haggardness of his features that he needed his rest. And more than likely he needed her help to make it to his bed. But she had learned some time back, when his health had first begun to fail, that he was more likely to accept her help if she made it seem as though he were doing her a favor by allowing her to accompany him.

  “Why, I’d be honored,” he said, before breaking into a coughing fit. Rhona waited patiently for the cough to subside. She wanted to rush to him, but she knew that it would serve for nothing but to wound his pride.

  When he had finished coughing and composed himself he stood shakily and offered her his arm as though to escort her. Rhona forced a smile and took his arm. She supported him when he stumbled, both of them preten
ding that he hadn’t.

  “Good night, da,” she said when they reached his door.

  “Good night,” he said with a smile, closing the door.

  Rhona waited until she heard his footsteps reach the bed before retiring to her own chambers. Sleep was slow to come. Her father hadn’t seemed any frailer than usual. But somehow she still had a foreboding sense that she would not have him much longer. She clutched her pillow and rolled over as she tried to ignore the darkness creeping over her thoughts.

  *******

  Aidan woke with a sense of uneasiness. Not unusual, given the recent battle. He tried to shake it off as he exited his tent and made his way down to the creek. It had been three days since the battle and the stain of blood had finally left its waters.

  Once he had cleaned himself perfunctorily he began to make his way back to the camp. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Graeme approaching him. Graeme stopped as well as he noticed Aidan. The two men stared at each other in silence. At their last encounter Aidan had left Graeme lying in the woods. He had lingered long enough only to be sure that the girl had gotten away.

  Aidan maintained a countenance of stone as Graeme glared at him with malice. It was Graeme who finally dropped his gaze, making his way down to the creek. Aidan made his way back to his tent and set to sharpening his sword. When that task was done, he set himself to other chores. As the day wore on, his sense on uneasiness still did not leave him.

  By the time night had fallen, he had almost convinced himself that his growing uneasiness was in fact a side effect of the battle and nothing he could do anything about. He retired to his tent and had almost drifted to sleep when he heard Graeme’s voice.

  He gritted his teeth at the sound of it, but he resolved to keep his peace. No use in confronting him. But he recognized the story…every detail of it was horrifically perfect. He cringed as Graeme described the girl and recounted ripping her bodice from her chest, and working his hand up her skirt. But still he kept his silence.

  But then the story diverted from the truth. Aidan shook his head. He wasn’t sure what else he had expected. But hearing the man tell of ravaging the girl infuriated him. He told himself he was only angry because Graeme was lying, that it was the lie that made him angry. But it was more than that.

 

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