The Baby Maker

by Tia Siren

  I bit my tongue and counted to ten. Gail was the best friend I had. Unlike previous friendships, I was not going to blow this one by letting my horrific temper get the best of me.

  One… two… three…

  At the count of ten, I leaned in and lowered my voice. “So, you’re saying she has feelings? For me? After only knowing me for a week and sleeping with me once?”

  She shrugged. “She’s young and stupid,” Gail said. “These young girls give love quickly and without conditions, I’m afraid. And usually without any kind of agenda other than they want to be cared for and loved. Unlike you, who seems to have an agenda for everything you do.”

  Damn this woman. She just kept hitting me with these jabs to the brain without giving me time to recover between blows. I shook my head like a fighter trying to shake off a punch.

  I asked, “Gail, what the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Are you really going to sit there and tell me that the only reason you want Amy Lynne to come back is to take care of Lizzie?” Gail sighed and shook her head. “Maybe you really are that thick headed, after all.”

  “Gail, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, having a hard time now keeping my cool. “I want her to come back to be Lizzie’s nanny so I can work. It’s all connected. I have deadlines to meet. That’s it. And if I never have sex with her again, that’ll be just fine with me.”

  She scoffed at me. “Bullshit.”

  “Jesus, woman, you’re frustrating the shit out of me,” I growled, balling up my fists and shaking them in the air between us. “Just say what you have to say. Please.”

  “Amy Lynne told me that you were writing again,” Gail said calmly. “You called her ‘your muse’. You basically said that she was inspiring you to write. How did you expect her take something like that? When you tell a young girl that she is the reason you can write again, don’t you think she might translate that as you having feelings for her?”

  “I didn’t expect her to take it that I was falling in love with her,” I said desperately. “Or that I expected her to keep having sex with me. I mean, unless she wanted to.”

  Gail studied me with her dark eyes. “Are you?”

  I tried to stare back at her without blinking. “Am I what?”

  “Falling in love with her?”

  I waited for my brain to process the question and return a string of sensible words to my mouth, but my brain was on the canvas, out cold. I sat back for a moment to think about the question.

  There was no doubt that having Amy Lynne in my life, and having spectacular sex with her, had somehow shaken off the shackles of my writer’s block and kicked my brain into high gear.

  There was also no denying that since she walked out, I hadn’t written a single word. But that didn’t mean that I loved her, did it? Couldn’t she be my muse without me loving her? The bigger question was, could she be my muse without being my lover? Fuck. I wasn’t prepared to do this much thinking when I sat down with Gail for a fucking bowl of ice cream.

  “Well?” she asked after waiting a minute for my answer. When an answer still didn’t come, she gave me a stern look and tapped her knuckles on the table. “Okay, you can’t tell me how you feel about her. So, let me ask you an easier question.”

  “Please proceed,” I said with a sigh. “I’m doing such a great job as the witness for the prosecution.”

  “You can’t tell me whether or not you have feelings for her,” Gail said, spreading her hands like a prosecutor laying out her case. “So the only question remaining is, do you want her to come back just so you can screw her again and pretend that she’s your muse?”

  I frowned at her and didn’t hesitate to answer. “I wouldn’t do that to her.”

  “Maybe not on purpose,” she said. “But Amy Lynne is a beautiful, impressionable, vulnerable young woman. She’s been used and abused by men her entire life. If you’re looking to be just another one of those guys who uses her until you don’t need her anymore, or until your next muse comes along, do us all a favor and leave her alone.”

  I pondered the point for a moment. I had only known Amy Lynne for a short time, but I felt like I’d known her my entire life.

  She lit a spark deep inside me that I couldn’t deny.

  She made me feel alive.

  She got my creative juices flowing.

  She energized me with her smile.

  She infected me with her laugh.

  She made me… happy…

  I tried to remember being happy before she showed up at my doorstep. I couldn’t do it.

  Was it love?

  Was it like?

  Was it just sex?

  Did I honestly think that I couldn’t write without her as my muse?

  I honestly didn’t know the answer to any of those questions.

  But I desperately wanted to find out.

  I desperately need to; for everyone’s sake.

  “And if I do have feelings for her?” I asked. “What then?”

  Gail picked up a spoon and dug into the bowl of vanilla ice cream that had sat melting between us.

  “Then leave Lizzie here with me and go convince Amy Lynne to come home with you. You don’t have to tell her how you feel because honestly, I don’t think either of you really know at this point. Just get back to the original plan. She is there for Lizzie, not you. She is Lizzie’s nanny, not your muse. If things blossom between the two of you down the road, great. If not, Lizzie has a wonderful nanny and you have time to write your next bestseller.”

  I nodded, agreeing with every word. “Where will I find her?”

  She smiled and glanced at her watch.

  “She’s at work. Bud’s Convenience Store on 12th Street near the airport. Her shift ends at six. If you want to see her, go now.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: Amy Lynne

  When I came to, I was sitting in the chair we kept behind the counter. I was covered in a cold sweat. My stomach was turning flips. I felt nauseated. Someone was fanning me with a magazine.

  At first, I thought it had all been a dream.

  Then I opened my eyes and looked around.

  Randy was sitting on the floor holding a bloody towel over his nose. His wrists were cuffed together. A police officer was reading him his rights. Another police officer was taking Jackson’s statement. Jackson looked at me and smiled.

  Brad was fanning me with a copy of People magazine.

  “You okay?” Brad asked, a concerned look on his round face.

  “Yes,” I said, wiping the sweat from my top lip. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m working the night shift this week,” he said. “It’s six o’clock. I guess all this happened a few minutes before I got here.” He glanced at Jackson, who was finishing up with the officer. “Good thing that guy came in when he did. Is he a friend of yours?”

  “Yes,” I said with a sigh of relief. “A good friend.”

  Jackson came over and knelt in front of me. He took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “You scared the hell out of me,” he said with a grin. He brushed the hair back from my forehead. “Are you okay? Do you need to go to the ER?”

  “No. I always faint at the sight of blood,” I said, blushing. I let my eyes drift over his handsome face. “What are you doing here?”

  “I just came by to check on you,” he said. He held out his hand and flexed his fingers. His knuckles were scraped from the impact with Randy’s face. “That’s your ex, I assume.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Wait. How did you know where to find me?”

  “I talked to Gail,” he said. “She told me everything. She suggested we talk.”

  The officers had Randy on his feet. One of the officers led him out the front door while the other came over to make sure I was okay. He took my name for the report and asked, “Will you be pressing charges, miss?”

  My immediate reaction was to say no because I feared Randy’s retribution, but as I stared into Jackson’s eyes, I felt a new sense of
power overtake me.

  I was tired of being afraid.

  I was tired of letting Randy intimidate me and tear me down.

  I took a deep breath and gave him a firm nod.

  I said, “Yes, I will.”

  The officer told me someone would be in touch and headed out the door. Jackson reached out his uninjured hand and wiggled his fingers at me.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I put my hand in his and let him lift me out of the chair.

  I asked, “Where are we going?”

  He held a hand toward the door and said, “I think we should talk.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: Amy Lynne

  Jackson followed me back to my shitty little apartment so we could talk. I was totally embarrassed, letting him see how I lived. My pathetic little life was such a stark contrast to the life of luxury he was used to.

  Nevertheless, he insisted, so I led the way across town in my Honda while he followed in his Range Rover.

  I got the feeling that he wanted to hash things out before letting Lizzie see me again. I couldn’t blame him. The way I acted was inexcusable. And if I wasn’t going to return as her nanny, there was no reason to expose Lizzie to my insane ways ever again.

  I ignored the stares of my neighbors as we parked in the lot and Jackson followed me up the walk and into my apartment. I knew what they were thinking.

  “Look, she’s finally done it. She’s officially a whore. Look at that rich guy she’s bringing home to have sex with. Deplorable!”

  “This is it,” I said, forcing a smile as I stepped aside to let him come in. I felt like I could just die. “Home sweet home.”

  “It’s lovely,” he said without making it sound too sarcastic.

  “No, it’s not lovely,” I said, closing the door and twisting the double locks. “It’s a shit hole, but better than living on the street.”

  I led him into the tiny kitchen and told him to have a seat at the folding card table while I made us a cup of instant coffee. I put the kettle on to boil and went into the bedroom alone to change out of my uniform (khaki soccer mom pants and a cheap polo shirt with the Bud’s Convenience Store logo).

  I took a minute to freshen up in the bathroom. It was just an excuse to be alone because I thought I was having a panic attack. My hands were shaking. Beads of sweat dotted my forehead. My breath came in shuddering gusts. I sat down on the toilet and put my head in my hands. I breathed slowly and waited for the nausea to pass.

  It wasn’t the altercation with Randy that had me upset. It was the fact that Jackson Ritter was sitting in my shitty little kitchen waiting for me to emerge.

  I had no idea what Jackson was going to say or how I would respond. For a moment, I wished that he hadn’t found me. My life had gotten so much better since I’d met him, but also so much more complicated. Then again, if he hadn’t shown up, I would probably be in the hospital now from the beating that Randy was about to give me. I got off the toilet and stood at the sink to splash cold water on my face. My nerves settled a bit, so I dried my face and went back into the kitchen.

  Jackson was standing at the counter, filling two cups with hot water to make the instant coffee.

  “The kettle was boiling,” he said, briskly stirring the bitter brew to make it drinkable. He set the cups on the table and sat down. I took the chair across from him.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Don’t thank me till you taste it,” he said with a smile. “I didn’t even know they made instant coffee anymore.”

  “Not everybody can afford a Keurig,” I said. It came out more spiteful than I had intended. “Anyway…”

  “So,” Jackson said, eyebrows arched. “Randy seems like quite a piece of work.”

  I chuckled. “Oh yeah, he’s a piece of something, all right.” I took the coffee cup between my hands and stared into the oily liquid as I sniffed back the tears that were threatening to fall. “I appreciate you saving me.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “So, we need to talk about… um… things.”

  “I’m really sorry I ran out on you like that,” I said quietly, still staring into my cup to avoid looking into his eyes. “It was a silly, childish thing to do. And I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted,” he said. “And I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression that the only reason I wanted you around was to fu… um… have sex with you. Nothing could be further from the truth.”

  “Apology accepted,” I said, mustering a little smile that quickly faded. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to come to work for you.”

  “Why not?” He looked truly disappointed.

  “Because of what happened between us,” I said. “I mean, it was amazing, but you hired me to be Lizzie’s nanny, not your lover. Or your muse. Hell, I’m still not even sure what that is.”

  “I understand,” he said. He nodded with a frown on his face. “And again, I’m sorry if I crossed a line I shouldn’t have.”

  “I think we crossed that line together,” I said with a devious grin that I immediately wiped from my face. I glanced up to find him staring at me. “You have to understand, it’s not that I don’t find you attractive. I do. I mean, wow, you’re the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.”

  He grinned at me. “Do go on.”

  He flexed his eyebrows and made me smile.

  I said, “But, we have to remember why you hired me. I’m supposed to look after Lizzie so you have time to write. I don’t want to be a distraction.”

  “Is that what you think you are?” he asked. “A distraction?”

  “Well, you certainly distract me,” I said honestly. “I mean, when you do what we did, and it feels so…”

  “Right?”

  I blinked at him. “I was gonna say fucking amazing, but right works, as well. It’s hard not to be distracted.”

  “And want to do it again?”

  “Yes.” I shook my head. “You’re not making this any easier for me.”

  “Do you want me to make it easier for you?” he asked, leaning in to gaze into my eyes. “Do you want me to say that I want you to come back to be Lizzie’s nanny? Then yes, I do, very much so. Lizzie loves you and I trust you to take care of her as if she were your own.

  “Do you want me to say that I can just ignore the fact that we made love and act like it never happened? All I can say is, I can try.

  “Do you want me to say that I hope we never have sex again?” He shook his head as the corners of his lips curled up. “I can’t say that because I would never lie to you. Making love to you is all I think about. It energizes me. It fills every cell in my body with fire. It makes me reel in anticipation.”

  “Me, too,” I said, barely above a whisper.

  There was an awkward silence for a minute, then he said, “What if we try it again from the top and just take it a step at a time. You come back to take care of Lizzie so I can concentrate on writing my book. We do our best to conduct ourselves as responsible adults and, if on occasion, we feel the need to fuck like rabbits, that’s okay. No strings, no commitments, no pressure. And if over time, feelings develop and we decide to take things to the next level, well, then we’ll let it progress naturally and we’ll ask Gail for her blessing.”

  I smiled at him. “Do you really think we can act like responsible adults?”

  He reached across the table to take my hand. “I’m willing to try if you are.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: Jackson

  I put Lizzie to bed and turned out the light. It had taken a few hours for her to come down from the ice cream sugar high and the excitement of having Amy Lynne back home.

  The three of us cuddled on the couch and watched a Barney video. We’d sung that damn song and laughed until we cried.

  Amy Lynne was waiting in my bed when I came in and closed the door. I turned on the baby monitor and set it on the nightstand. Then I sat on the edge of the bed to take off
my shoes.

  “She asleep?” Amy Lynne asked, reaching out a hand to me.

  “She is,” I said, taking her hand and bringing it to my lips. I brushed the hair from her forehead and gave her a smile. “As one responsible adult to another, may I say that I’m awfully glad you’re here.”

  “I think I’m going to enjoy being a responsible adult,” Amy said with a happy sigh. “I love trying new things.”

  “Well, that’s certainly good to know,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows at her. “You’re an adventurous, responsible adult.”

  “That I am,” she said, licking her lips. “Now get your ass in this bed.”

  I took off my clothes and she pulled back the sheet. I lay down next to her. Her naked body was warm against my skin. Her breath was like a gentle breeze in my ear. She spread her legs and my hand found her hot and wet and happy to be home.

  I pressed my lips to hers and massaged her breast. I tweaked her hard nipple between my fingers and then slid my tongue down her neck to take the nipple into my mouth.

  Her hand drifted down to my hard cock. She wrapped her fingers around it and began to tug it, rubbing the head against her.

  “Make love to me, Jackson,” she sighed in my ear. She gazed into my eyes. “I want you inside me, now.”

  She spread her legs and I rolled on top of her.

  I braced my arms and she guided my cock to her opening with her hand.

  She rubbed the head of my cock against her hot, wet opening.

  She put her hands on my ass and pulled me into her.

  My cock slid into her tight box and she sighed happily in my ear.

  I leaned down to kiss her and we started moving in rhythm. Every nerve in my body stood on end as my cock slid in and out of her. Her pussy tightened around me, holding on to me, as if it didn’t want to ever let go of me.

  It was the greatest feeling in the world.

  My muse was home.

  EPILOGUE

  “Welcome to another edition of Book Talk on National Public Radio. I’m your host, David West. My guest today is bestselling novelist Jackson Ritter. His new novel is called Life After. It’s a story of tragedy and triumph and one man’s quest to rebuild his life after the sudden death of his wife. Jackson, welcome to the program.”