Second Chance Baby Daddy

by Vivien Vale

  “I can’t find the placements for the table.”

  I furrow my brow. “What do you mean?”

  “Usually, the bride or groom provide name placements to go on the table, but in your order, it didn’t mention anything and I just, you know…how do people know where to sit…”

  Of course.

  Name holders with names.

  Dylan has spent hours making them.

  “I’ll get them for you with the list of where to put them.”

  I hurry back into the house and get the box. I take them to the young woman and she gasps when I pull the first one out.

  In my hand, I’m holding a little wooden carved bear with one paw up. In the paw is a piece of paper with a name written on it.

  “Wow” is all she says.

  “I know. Aren’t they cute? My husband—I mean my husband-to-be—carved them. We had a bear cub for a while,” I start to explain but stop myself.

  It really is time I get ready.

  “In the box you’ll also find a seating plan. It should be easy enough to follow.”

  Without another word, I leave the woman to do her job.

  “Hey, lovely,” a familiar voice says, and I turn to find Phoebe there.

  “Great, you’re here already.”

  I go and hug my assistant and then link arms with her to take her inside.

  “Come on, let’s get ready.”

  Phoebe follows me.

  “This place is amazing,” she says, and I can tell she’s not just saying it to be polite. She means what she says.

  “Wait till you see the inside.”

  We go straight to the main bedroom. When I walk in and see the surprise, I gasp.

  Fuck.

  Wow.

  I’m speechless.

  Over the back of my wardrobe door hangs the most amazing cream-colored winter cloak with hood and fake fur trimmed edging. It looks Russian-princess gorgeous.

  “Wow,” Phoebe says next to me, and I turn to her and smile.

  “Dylan organized it. I had no idea.”

  “Where’s the dress?” Phoebe can barely hide her excitement.

  “Come, I’ll show you.”

  At first, I was going to wear something plain, but then, over time I opted for something in between plain and over-the-top dressy. It just wouldn’t look right to turn up in something too glamorous.

  Phoebe claps her hands like a little kid let loose in a candy shop when she sees my dress.

  “Ohhh, Emma you’re going to look gorgeous.”

  She helps me into the body hugging, slim-fitting long dress. It has a high neck and no sleeves.

  On my feet, I wear white leather boots with a small heel. Long cream-colored gloves to my elbow complete the outfit.

  Phoebe puts the cape over me and skillfully, without messing up my hair, drapes the hood over my head.

  I turn in front of the mirror and am pleased with the end result. Definitely not over-the-fucking-top, and yet I look good.

  Living in the mountains doesn’t mean I have to give up all of life’s little luxuries.

  When Phoebe and I walk toward the make shift little chapel, no one makes as a sound. I can hear the whispers of surprise of some of those girlfriends of mine who weren’t keen to come into the woods at all.

  Dylan’s eyes shine, and I feast my own on his choice of outfit.

  He hadn’t told me what he’s going to wear.

  I’m not sure, but it looks like his suit is made from extremely fine leather. It’s a light brown color and fits him perfectly.

  When our eyes meet, my insides melt.

  The ceremony goes all too quickly. I barely remember saying “I do” and hear Dylan utter the same words. When his lips come down on mine, I know the celebrant must have pronounced us to be husband and wife.

  “How does it feel to be married?” Dylan whispers into my ear, but I’m too choked up to say anything. “And may I say, you look fucking exquisite tonight.”

  I smile at him. “The cloak is gorgeous.”

  He nods.

  Someone taps me on the shoulder.

  “This is amazing Emma. You’re so lucky.”

  Cynthia, one of my friends, is standing there with a bushy bearded man beside her. I frown. I didn’t know Cynthia had a boyfriend.

  “Thanks,” I mumble and don’t remind her about her initial reluctance when she first received my invitation. “Who—” I start, but she’s already moved off.

  “One of the locals,” whispers Dylan in my ear. “A mountain man.”

  We both laugh.

  Jen finds me and hugs me. “Oh, Emma, you look gorgeous! And this place.” She holds out her arms. “I mean look at it. It’s amazing.”

  Another convert. Jen had complained bitterly and begged me to have the wedding in Manhattan. She’d threatened not to come.

  “And the choice of men you’ve got, oh my,” she continues and fans herself with her right hand.

  “Do you want me to introduce you to any of them?” I offer.

  Jen shakes her head. “Not necessary, darling. I’ve met a couple of them already.”

  The music starts, and Dylan grabs me by the hips. He leads me out onto the dance floor.

  Applause and whistles greet us.

  When the band plays a slow waltz, he leads me expertly around the floor. Who would have known Dylan to be a ballroom dancer?

  Soon, other couples join us and on our next turn around the dance floor, Dylan heads straight out the door.

  By now, the full moon has risen against the inky black sky.

  I snuggle into Dylan. My mountain man. So much has happened in such a short amount of time.

  I feel like the luckiest woman alive.

  A noise near the edge of the forest made me look up.

  “Dylan, look,” I point excitedly to the dark figure coming out of the forest.

  He hovers for a while, waves, and then turns to run away again. A second bear is hot on his heels.

  “It’s Boss.” I grin.

  Dylan shakes his head. “Maybe.”

  My right fist punches him gently into the upper arm.

  “Was so,” I say and feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.

  A shooting star floats across the night sky.

  “Make a wish,” I say and look into his eyes.

  “I have,” he whispers and places his hand on my lower abdomen.

  Chapter 42

  Dylan

  I’ve looked everywhere for Emma but just fucking can’t find her.

  Why does she do this to me? She knows I worry about her in her condition.

  When I go outside, I see her on the grass just below the veranda.

  I can’t get angry. But I do wish she’d tell me where she’s going.

  “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” I call out to her and walk down the stairs. Emma looks up and smiles at me.

  “You haven’t looked everywhere.”

  If she weren’t pregnant and holding our first born, I’d smack her for her cheekiness and take her upstairs to the bedroom for a good fuck. Heck, what am I saying? I’d fuck her right here right now.

  Of course, I can’t with the little fellow on her hips.

  I reach out to take Oliver from her.

  “Bbbbb, beabeabe.”

  My eyes find Emma’s. “Is he saying bear?”

  Emma chuckles. “That or bee. I’m not sure. But look who’s come to visit.”

  Over by the forest are two bears, one larger and one a little smaller. Between them are two cubs.

  Wow.

  Boss has been busy.

  “Can you believe he keeps coming to visit?”

  “Look, Oliver, those bear cubs could become your friends.” I point to where the bears are, and my son claps his hands together. He’s bouncing up and down in my arms and yelling something I can’t understand.

  “I think he wants you to take him to see the bears close up.”

  I smile and meander toward the happy family.
Boss is pretty tame, but I think his lady friend has other ideas about how close she’ll let a human come to her cubs.

  I totally understand and don’t push the friendship at all.

  Oliver seems happy for me to stop. He can see them a little better. The two little ones are tumbling over each other, biting into their ears and around their neck. They make a very contented picture.

  “Soon, you’ll have a little brother or sister,” I tell Oliver, but he’s not listening.

  “Look after your family, Boss,” I call to the big bear and head back to the cabin. I want to get Emma inside. She should rest.

  “Come on, babe,” I walk past her. “Time for a cup of tea.”

  “I’m fine, Dylan. Really I am.”

  I peer at her. She’s still a little pale. Two days ago, she had a bit of a fall, some bleeding, and a dizzy spell. I took her straight down the mountain to the city hospital for a checkup.

  The doctors assured me everything is fine, just a minor hiccup, but I don’t want to take any fucking chances.

  “I’m going to have some tea, and I think Oliver might have one, too.”

  I lift the little fellow high up over my head and listen to his squeals of delight.

  “Okay. I’ll come in.”

  She falls into step beside me, and I glance at her. I still can’t believe how fucking lucky I am to have her by my side.

  We did have a rocky road at the start, but once she decided she was okay to live here in the mountains with me, life couldn’t be better.

  “I got an email from Phoebe this morning,” she tells me but I’m only listening with half an ear. I don’t really care how the company is doing. I’ve put all that behind me.

  Of course, Emma still has her hands in it a little bit. She’s been asked to stay on as a consultant and overseer. Most of the work can be done remotely, from our cabin. From time to time, she visits the office, but I think that might be more for a social outing than anything else.

  “And?” I feign interest. It’s important to Emma, so it should be important to me. Relationships are about give and take. Seeing Emma gave up her city lifestyle for me, the least I can do is give by listening to tales of things that interest her.

  “Record profits for the last six months.”

  “That’s hardly surprising with you at the helm.”

  I put Oliver in his little bouncer and make a pot of tea. This latest batch of leaves is my best yet.

  “You’re just saying that.”

  Emma comes up behind me and wraps her arms around my waist. Her bulge makes it a little difficult to get her arms all the way around.

  “I’m not.”

  I turn toward her and kiss her. It’s a long slow kiss. Oliver is screeching.

  Emma pulls away. “Feeling left out, little one?”

  As if to say yes, he’s bouncing wildly up and down.

  “I’ll get him,” I tell Emma and push her gently toward the couch. “You sit down and put your feet up.”

  Grumbling something akin to protests, Emma heads to the couch.

  For a while, neither of us says anything.

  “How’s the woodwork going?”

  With Oliver on my left hip, I take the hot cup of tea in my right and bring it over to Emma.

  Since her pregnancy, she’s got this golden glow around her all the time. She looks so fucking hot I can barely keep my hands off her.

  “I finished the latest order, but since then I’ve got another five or so orders that have come in.”

  She grins.

  “Phoebe also sent me a report on the progress of the reforestation of our forest.”

  It’s not really our forest, we just like to call it that because it joins our boundary. It’s the reason Emma and I ended up getting up together. I suppose, in a way, I should be fucking grateful to those dishonest pricks who ran the company I helped build up. If they hadn’t turned to illegal operations—

  I stop mid-thought. No point going over old ground.

  If they hadn’t tried to kill Emma, I would never have rescued her, and blah, blah, blah.

  “Apparently, the trees are doing better than expected,” Emma continues and interrupts my thoughts.

  I sit down next to her and pick up her feet. She doesn’t complain, and I massage them. There’s no swelling or anything, but I like to show my support.

  It looks so uncomfortable, this whole pregnancy thing.

  “And according to the national park ranger, the bear numbers are up, too. With all the illegal logging activity, the habitat of the bears was destroyed, making it easier for poachers to shoot them and thus reduce their numbers.”

  She pauses to take a sip of her tea. I watch her close her eyes and enjoy the taste sensation.

  “This is very good…” She looks at me. “What’s different?”

  “Leaf type, drying type, you know. I’m playing around with different options.”

  Emma nods. “Anyway, looks like a happy end for everyone. And you know what?”

  I shake my head. It can be hard to keep up with her. She’s so full of enthusiasm.

  “We’re a shining example that running a business with no regards to the environment whatsoever doesn’t pay off. The company back then, you know, when it did all that terrible stuff, it wasn’t even making as much profit as we’re making now.”

  Time to shake my head again.

  “And we continue to put money into sustainable projects around the world and buy parcels of land for conservation.”

  “Wonders will never cease.”

  “No need to be cynical,” she closes her eyes and leans her head back against the couch.

  “You okay? And I wasn’t being cynical.”

  Emma shakes her head. “Enjoying the foot rub. Do you want to do my neck next?”

  “Anything for you, babe.”

  I fucking mean it. I’ll do anything for this woman, the love of my life. If it weren’t for her, I’d be still living surrounded by darkness and feeling miserable.

  “Speaking of increasing bear numbers, I hope the ranger knows if a poacher shows his or her face around here, there might be another tree accident,” I say to Emma.

  Her head snaps around.

  “Don’t even say or think it,” she warns me.

  “Come on. You wouldn’t stand by as some crazed maniac with a gun shoots at Boss or his bear cubs would you?”

  I can see the inner struggle written all over her face. “No.” she agrees eventually. “But I’m not a fan of violence, and I also don’t believe in treating violence with violence.”

  My hands stop massaging, and I lean forward to give her a kiss.

  “Let’s hope then that no poacher will come within a hundred miles of our mountain and our bears.”

  Emma doesn’t say anything. She grabs my hand and puts it on her belly.

  “Feel it?”

  A fist or a foot is punching against her tummy. It feels unreal.

  “You see,” Emma looks at me. “Your unborn child also doesn’t approve of violence.”

  I’m too excited by the feel of the little person growing inside Emma’s tummy to disagree with her.

  Fuck.

  Life is simply amazing.

  Emma and I have created this little creature growing in her tummy.

  My eyes find Oliver, who’s happily back-bouncing in his bouncer. When I look at him, I also can’t believe we made him.

  And here we are, waiting for a sibling.

  I can’t wait for the newest edition to the family to come and join us.

  Baby Bargain

  A Billionaire Baby Contract Romance

  By Vivien Vale

  Copyright 2017 by Crimson Vixens

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental. This work is intended for adults only.

&nbs
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  Daniel

  If I’m not mistaken—and I rarely fucking am—I think my secretary is wearing a ball gag as a necklace today.

  “Sorry to bother you, sir,” she says, as that big red rubber ball jiggles against her throat.

  She’s tightened the leather straps up enough that it could reasonably be mistaken for a choker, but I’m not some uninitiated fuck—I didn’t exactly get my first erection yesterday.

  “Make it quick.” I don’t have time to question my secretary’s more-than-questionable fashion choices. If I don’t figure out why the columns on this report aren’t adding up by the end of the day, I won’t know which incompetent jackass in accounting to fire tomorrow morning.

  “It’s just, uh, your mother is here,” she informs me.

  And then, right on cue, my mother flounces in. Doesn’t even give me time to feel sorry for myself.

  “Danny, darling!” my mother coos, trotting into my office on a pair of peep-toe heels the color of cotton candy vomit. “How’s my favorite businessman? Give mommy a little smooch, that’s a good dear.”

  I roll my eyes—but I do as I’m bid. My mother is as vapid and air-headed as they come, but she’s still the woman who gave birth to me, and for that, she can have as many cheek-kisses as she wants. I just wish she’d stop fucking calling them smooches—and I wish she would have left Muffins the Purse Dog at home for once.

  “Missed you too, Mom,” I relent, keeping an eye on Muffins. His fluffy, feral little head pops up out of my mother’s Chanel purse just as I’m enveloped by the scent of No. 5—her favorite perfume.

  To his credit, Muffins doesn’t fucking growl at me on sight anymore—but he does look like he’s ready to take a jealousy shit in my mother’s handbag any minute now.

  “Maybe you should let my secretary take Muffins on a walk, Mom,” I suggest. I’d hate for Mom’s latest husband—whoever he is—to have to replace a sold-out handbag—plus, if my secretary really is wearing a ball gag, I’m sure she knows her way around a leash.

  “Nonsense, honey,” Mom says, sitting on my desk like she thinks she’s still a teenager or something.