Cowboy Baby Daddy (A Secret Baby Romance Compilation)

by Claire Adams

  “I don’t even care right now,” I tell him, and pull the lid off the cup.

  I pour about half the cup of coffee down my throat. It’s a good thing the coffee is cold.

  “So, I stayed up until 4 in the morning looking at places, and we’ve got some options. There are a few in town and a few out of town. Which would you like to check first?”

  “You didn’t make any appointments?”

  “Who’s going to take an appointment in the middle of the night?” Mike asks. “It’s Jersey. People there don’t have plans. They’ll be so thrilled that a New Yorker is in town they’ll roll out the red carpet.”

  Mike’s one of those New Yorkers. He’s of a special breed that thinks no one outside of the five boroughs has anything important to do. That, mixed with the already sizeable God complex, and they just might kick us out of the state.

  We’re on the road for a long time, longer than I would have thought.

  I made sure to look at the clock as we were leaving, and it’s already been almost three hours. There’s no way I can make this kind of commute.

  “What kind of brokerage houses do they even have in Jersey?”

  “They have brokerage houses everywhere,” I tell him. “The only difference is that in New York, if someone on the floor pisses you off, you can hunt them down before they’ve had a chance to leave the state.”

  “So, what’s the deal with you and Dane? I kind of got a vibe from you last night.”

  Mike and his stupid vibes.

  “Nothing,” I tell him. “Just drive. You know where we’re going, right?”

  “You know the guy’s in love with you, right?”

  I look over at him, my eyes wide.

  “What?” he asks. “It’s not like it wasn’t obvious the way he was carrying on the other night when he walked in on us kissing.”

  “You didn’t seem to have any useful theories on it then.”

  “Yeah, I had a little time to think about it, and the more I did, the more I realized that he had the same look on his face when I found my date for senior prom under the bleachers getting felt up by Bill Rodman.”

  “I’m moving,” I tell Mike. “That kind of trumps everything else.”

  “You’re not into him, then?” he asks.

  I don’t answer, but that’s an answer in itself.

  “You like him, too,” he says. “J’accuse!”

  “J’accuse is back, huh?” I ask.

  “Are you going to tell him?” Mike asks.

  “Nope,” I answer. “There’s really nothing to tell. I have a new job in a new city—a new state, even. It doesn’t really matter whether I like him or not.”

  “So you do like him?”

  “Haven’t we established that?”

  “I was talking out my ass,” Mike says. “Could you reach in the glove compartment and grab me the map that’s in there?”

  I open the glove compartment, but all I find is a small bag of pot and a half-empty bag of corn chips.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah,” he says. “It’s seriously the second decade of the new millennium. People don’t use fucking paper maps anymore. Could you pass me that bag? I think I’ve got half a joint stuffed in there somewhere.”

  “I’m not letting you drive me high,” I tell him, and close the glove box.

  “Killjoy.”

  We’re on the road for another half hour, and Mike seems incapable of talking about anything other than my situation with Dane. I’m really not in the mood.

  When we finally take an exit, Mike pulls the phone out of his pocket and hands it to me.

  “Pull up the GPS,” he tells me. “I’ve got everything programmed in there.”

  I will say this about Mike: he does come prepared. I really wish he hadn’t come prepared with the bag of weed, though.

  We follow the automated voice into the first apartment complex, and I have the strangest moment. I’ve been in New York City so long that when I think of an apartment complex, I think of one building with only a few parking spaces out front that are always filled, crammed to the rafters with every brand of crazy person there is.

  This place, though. It kind of reminds me of home.

  It’s not the nicest place in the world, but the grounds are well-kept and I don’t see any crime scene tape, so I’m already excited.

  “And now we wait,” Mike says as he pulls into an open parking spot.

  “We wait?” I ask. “Why?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he says, “their office doesn’t open for another hour. So, when are you going to tell Dane that you want him to split you like a tree trunk?”

  “Split me like a—you have a problem, Mike, seriously.”

  “It’s not like you didn’t already know,” he tells me. “I saw the look on your face when you realized he was there.”

  “I was startled,” I rejoin. “You should have seen your face. Your mouth was open so wide I could see your wisdom teeth.”

  “Whatever,” he says. “I’m talking about after the initial shock. You looked like you were going to—”

  “Can we please talk about something else?” I ask. “Have you had a chance to try what I told you?”

  “What? You mean completely changing everything about the way I kiss?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  “Eh, a little bit. I don’t know if I just got magnificently better at it, or if I’m still as terrible as ever, but we weren’t kissing very long.” He leans over, grinning, and nudges my arm, saying, “If you know what I mean.”

  “Oh, God.”

  We sit there for a while, and I continue to dodge his questions about Dane. When the office finally opens, we go in and talk to the manager. She takes us on a tour and it simply doesn’t compute that I can get a two-bedroom apartment with a decent floor plan for under $1,000.

  I really haven’t been living in the city that long, but that kind of freaks me out.

  I’m ready to sign the papers right now, but Mike steps in before I can commit to anything and tells the woman that we have a few more appointments today, but we’ll let her know.

  By the time the day’s done, I can hardly remember what that first apartment looked like.

  “So,” Mike says as we’re on our way back to New York and all the insanity those two words juxtaposed entail, “you’re really not going to tell me what you’re going to do.”

  “Nope.”

  I don’t want to tell him that, with every new apartment we looked at, I was making a mental note of which room would be mine and which one would be Dane’s. I admit it, I like him and I don’t want to leave him, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to share a bedroom with him either.

  Mike drops me off in front of my building and we make plans to get together tomorrow and decide which place is going to be the right fit.

  I’m not looking forward to walking into that apartment and having to try and think of a way to approach Dane now that it’s all out in the open, but I don’t get the chance. As I come up the stairs, Dane’s coming out of the apartment.

  “Don’t lock it!” I call.

  He jumps a little, but nods and opens the door.

  When I get up to him, my every thought is of walking right by him, but I stop.

  “Dane, I wanted to talk to you about last night,” I tell him.

  “Could we not do this?” he asks. “I’ve already humiliated myse—”

  My lips are pressing into his and I’m pushing him backward through the open door to the apartment. He’s stunned for a moment, but in a flash, he’s kissing me back and chills are running throughout my entire body.

  I know this isn’t the way to leave things with him, but who says that I want to leave things at all?

  I kick the door closed behind us and close my eyes as I feel his soft lips against mine.

  This is what a kiss is supposed to be like.

  His hands move up and down my sides, and I can hardly breathe as our tongues mingle with ea
ch other, playfully, sensually.

  He pulls back for a second, saying, “Are you sure that you—”

  My lips are over his again, and I’m nodding my head, humming, “Mmm hmm.”

  I can tell that he doesn’t know how far I’m willing to take this, so I make the first move after the first move, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and pulling away from him just long enough to pull it off of him.

  His skin is so warm, firm. He has a tattoo on his chest, but I’m watching his closed eyes as we continue to kiss.

  He runs his fingers through my hair, and I can feel a tug in my core like nothing I’ve ever known.

  Confident now, he pulls my shirt off, and with one hand, he unclasps my bra. I slip the straps off my shoulder and let it fall to the ground and I press my bare skin against his.

  I can feel his heartbeat.

  He bends down a little and wraps his arms around my lower back, lifting me off the ground, and I wrap my legs around his waist as I kiss his lips and his neck and he carries me into his room.

  He bends down again and lays me on the bed. He kisses my neck then my chest. He takes one of my nipples into his hot mouth, and I feel myself growing wet with the sensation.

  My breath comes in jagged and as his mouth moves farther down my body, I close my legs enough for him to undo my pants and pull them off of me.

  My legs open instinctively and he moves my panties to one side, his steamy breath bringing me to life. The moment his first finger runs over my crease, I’m already halfway there.

  “Are you sure?” he asks, his fingertips teasing my opening.

  “Yeah,” I breathe.

  A moment later, his finger is inside me and his tongue is tracing a figure eight on my clit. My hands dig into the comforter, and my legs are already starting to shake.

  My fingers are in his hair and he’s pleasuring me so intently.

  I whisper, “Come here,” and as he stands, I slip my panties down my legs and kick them off to one side.

  I sit up and move closer to the edge of the bed, smiling at the growing bulge in his pants. I’m not thinking of consequences now as I undo his pants and pull him out of the thin fabric of his boxers.

  He’s hard in my hand, and I run my tongue from base to tip, tasting his skin before I take him into my mouth. My free hand finds its way between my own legs, and I rub myself softly as I suck lightly on his flared ridge.

  I can feel his pulse in my mouth, and it’s all I can do to see straight as I look up into his eyes. With my tongue, I press against the underside of his member and delight in the quick gasp as I take more of him into my mouth.

  “I want to feel you inside me,” I tell him.

  He doesn’t say a word.

  He kneels down between my legs and kisses me softly on the mouth.

  The anticipation builds within me as I lean back, leaving myself open for him to take me. With his tip, he teases my lower lips and they swell in response, inviting him inside.

  He goes slowly at first: pushing only one and then two inches inside of me, but in a moment, the whole length of him is inside and my fingers are curled, gripping the skin of his back.

  He fills me perfectly, again and again, and his mouth is so warm, kissing my neck.

  “You feel amazing,” he tells me, and his tempo increases, little by little, until my legs quake and my breath comes in gulps.

  “I’m going to come,” I whisper into his ear.

  “Come,” he tells me, and kisses my cheek, then my lips.

  When that rise starts growing within me, I press my lips into his, if only to contain the volume of my ecstasy.

  My legs tremble as I tighten them around his body, and every moment I expect that tremor of release, but the feeling only builds and builds until I’m in another world entirely with only his embrace as sweet gravity, keeping me tethered to the earth.

  When the jolting electric waves shoot through me, I pull my head back and forget any care as my body responds, immaculate, to his every movement.

  My heart is pounding, and I could swear I feel the earth shift beneath and around me, though the waves continue to wash over my body.

  “I love you,” I whisper as the pulse starts to recede and he smiles as he presses himself into me over and over.

  “I love you, too,” he says, and I have a feeling that things are never going to be the same again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Other Side

  Dane

  The most beautiful morning greets me when I wake, but it’s easily overtaken by what I have to do next. I have to tell Wrigley not only can I not be in a relationship with her, but we’re going to have to stop seeing each other entirely.

  Sure, we could stay friends, but I have a feeling she’s not going to be thrilled about that particular option.

  I might have been able to enjoy the morning more completely if it didn’t mirror the morning that Wrigley and I spent right after I told her that I wanted to be in a relationship with her.

  Yeah, I kind of bungled this one from the start.

  Oh well.

  Before anything else happens, I need to tell Wrigley what’s going on and that we can’t see each other anymore.

  You know, even a few days ago, I would have just avoided the situation entirely: Wrigley being a little batshit crazy and all, but after the conversation we had over coffee yesterday—I don’t know. This might not be so bad.

  My first instinct is to just give her a call and drop the news that way, but that seems like the coward’s way out. We’ve been whatever we’ve been long enough that she deserves to hear it face-to-face.

  Besides, she was actually supportive when presented with the information that I have a thing for Leila. Supportive might not be the right word, but it’s close enough to feel somewhat confident.

  I make the call.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Dane,” I tell her.

  “Hey,” she says. “Did you and your roommate have your little talk?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I think we should probably discuss that face-to-face, though. What are you doing later?”

  “It’s Sunday,” she says. “I have fuck-all planned. What about lunch?”

  “Okay.”

  The conversation is pretty short. I don’t know why, but it’s a bit unsettling to me how smoothly this is going.

  Leila’s off planning her move with Mike. I don’t really like the guy, but as I’m going to lunch with Wrigley, I really can’t say anything about it.

  I take a quick shower and get dressed.

  Wrigley and I didn’t really set a time, she merely finished off her part of the conversation by saying, “We’ll go when you get here.”

  I guess I’m picking her up, then.

  When I get to Wrigley’s, she’s wearing a slinky peach-colored top with no bra, and I guess it’s a skirt.

  “Ready to go?” she asks.

  “Yeah,” I tell her. “Where are we going?”

  “The roof,” she says. “I put out a picnic basket. Come on,” she says. “Let’s talk.”

  Either she doesn’t know what’s coming and she’s about to get blindsided, or she knows exactly what’s coming and she’s trying to fuck her way out of it.

  Either way, this is going to suck.

  We get up on the roof, and I double-check to make sure the door is propped open, so just in case she tries something particularly savage, I can make some kind of escape.

  “You had sex last night, didn’t you?” she asks.

  I’m usually not one to be at a loss for words, but the bluntness of the question catches me off guard.

  “What kind of question is that?”

  “Now that’s got to be one of the oddest pronunciations of the word ‘yes’ I’ve ever heard,” she says.

  She’s smiling, but I don’t trust that she’s this blasé about it.

  “Yeah,” I tell her, finally.

  “Your roommate?” she asks.

  “Yeah,” I sa
y again, quietly.

  I don’t know what it is, but Wrigley has a real knack of making me unsure of myself.

  “How was it?”

  The tension gets to be too much, so I do the only thing I can.

  I laugh.

  “You can’t honestly expect an answer to that question,” I tell her.

  She rolls her eyes.

  “That’s all right,” she says. “I figured you’d be off getting your dick wet, so I made sure not to waste my night either.”

  If Wrigley was someone else, I’d think she was making this up to try to make me jealous. Knowing her, though, I have no doubt she’s telling the truth.

  “All right,” I say, shrugging my shoulders, trying to be nonchalant.

  I’m not going to lie. I am a bit jealous.

  That said, I’m much happier to be with Leila. At least she’s not going to go down on the cab driver if we get into an argument.

  Wrigley’s laugh is an odd mix of lighthearted and flat out disturbing.

  “Oh, calm down,” she says. “So, is that all you wanted to talk to me about? I’m starting to feel a little overdressed.”

  “Overdressed?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” she says. “Obviously, we’re not going to be making it exclusive with each other, but I see no reason why we can’t keep fucking until we’re bored.”

  “I don’t think you understand,” I start. “I love Leila.”

  “I’m sure you do,” she says. “Sex has a way of tipping the scales in that direction—especially for people like you.”

  I ignore the barb.

  “You don’t understand,” I tell her. “I can’t see you anymore.”

  That smile is back, but the lighthearted aspect to it is gone.

  “Oh, you can’t tell me you’re that whipped already,” she says. “I’m very discreet. I’ll even meet you at the office for your lunch break or dinner break, or whatever the fuck chefs do. We’ve got too much sexual chemistry for either of us to just walk away from it now.”

  She’s fucking with me. She has to be.

  I smile.

  She smiles back.

  “Really,” I tell her. “I’d like to stay friends, but we can’t see each other that way. Not anymore.”

  “Oh,” she says. “All right, I get it.”