Baby Daddy

by Lauren Landish

  I reach for my phone, knowing I don’t want to waste time, and dial Cassie. “Hello?” she answers.

  “Hey, short stuff,” I greet her, smiling as I lean back. “You ready to be my gopher?”

  Cassie growls. She doesn’t seem to like that word, which, of course, is why I’m using it. Still, she can’t say much. “Yeah, I’m free soon. What’s up?”

  “Need you to swing by the house and go over a few ideas,” I tell her. I’ve been by the house twice in the week since our celebration dinner, and Oliver told me to go ahead and roll on the repairs. But for all of his approval, it’s Cassie’s show on everything she wants to do . . . within reason. “I have a few ideas I want you to look at, especially the new kitchen and the color of the stain that you want me to use on the walnut flooring.”

  “So you’ve made all the choices then? This ain’t your show,” Cassie teases, and I run my fingers through my hair. Okay, so maybe I’ve gotten a little overzealous on it myself, but there’s something about helping Cassie and this project that’s exciting me a lot more than trimming someone’s hydrangea bushes.

  “Come on, Cass. You ready for this? We’ve got some work ahead of us, and I just want to be on top of things. You sure you can handle it?”

  “And what if I want to be on top?” Cassie retorts. In my jeans, my cock twitches again. I can’t help it. I don’t know what it was about seeing her so excited in Oliver’s office the morning she told us about the house, but it’s like a switch has been thrown in my brain. I can’t get her out of my head, and every tease she’s giving me is running straight to my cock and making me want to push the line with her just a little further than normal.

  Not that I can let her know I’ve been fantasizing about her nearly every night this past week. “When can you get there?”

  “I was already planning on heading over. I’m changing out of my work stuff. Ditching the skirt and blouse for jean shorts and a t-shirt. Keeping my sexy panties though.”

  Goddammit, now I’ve damn near got my cock hitting my steering wheel. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. What about you?”

  “Gimme twenty. I’ll stop and grab some dinner. See you,” Cassie says, the line going dead. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but my cock is still determined to help me drive, so I shift around enough that I’m not going to cause an accident before putting my truck in gear and driving out to the house.

  Douglas Street looks even more idyllic as I pull up, and 614 smells heavenly when I get out, inhaling the rich scent of the recently blooming flowers in the big unkempt acre of land out back. I take a moment and see the big empty chunk of concrete that used to be a garage, and while that would be a long-term project beyond what Cassie’s got in mind for this flip, my brain starts making plans.

  I’ve got enough time to change and wipe down a little before she pulls up, looking cute but also ready to work in a hip-hugging set of jeans shorts, hiking boots, and to top it off, a tied-off t-shirt that reads Hello, my name is HOTTIE.

  “Got dinner for you!” Cassie greets me chirpily as she bounces over, my eyes glued to her tanned legs. Oh, I so need to get her. “Check it out!”

  She holds up a plain brown box, setting it on the hood of my truck. “So what’s in the box?” I ask, and Cassie grins evilly, knowing what I’m talking about.

  “What’s in the box? What’s in the baaaaaahx?” Cassie imitates, her voice nothing at all like Brad Pitt’s but still effective, and I have to smile. She laughs before opening up the box. Chinese food.

  “I say we check out the house first, and we can talk moo goo gai pan later,” I reply, heading to the back door and opening up. “That is, if you can handle the bad news?”

  “You’d be surprised what I can handle,” Cassie says, sashaying past me and running her fingernails over my shirt. “Nice shirt. Female Body Inspector? I mean, really?”

  Maybe I planned it, but I won’t tell. “It’s an old clean work shirt. All right, simmer down a notch. I can inspect you another time. I’ve got shit to show you, and it ain’t my dick.” We lock eyes, and there’s a new tension, making me think maybe she does want me to whip it out. But then I see her eyes twinkle, and the moment passes, both of us breaking out in laughter.

  Cassie rolls her eyes. “You won that round, but you’ve still got a lot of catching up to do. What do you need to show me?” she says, looking around the house, ready to get down to business.

  “Might as well start in here,” I say, leading her into the living room. “I started pulling up the carpet the other night—wanted to get a better idea on how bad the walnut floor was underneath—and while most of it’s good . . .”

  I show her the section that shares a wall with the downstairs bathroom, where water damage rings and warping are clearly evident. “This whole section will need to be replaced, which brings us to another problem.”

  “What?” Cassie says, squatting down. “The wood seems strong at least.”

  “Right up until the next rainstorm. That water is most likely from the bathroom pipes, which means I’ll need to totally redo the bathroom—walls, floors, all of it. It’ll take some work getting everything to look right if we’re sticking with hardwoods.”

  “You can handle it, right?” Cassie asks, turning around. She looks up at me with her big hazel eyes, biting her lip. “I do love the idea of the hardwood floors.”

  I swallow back my first thoughts about what her eyes are making me think of and nod. “Yes, but the stain would have to be carefully selected to make sure it blends the old and the new wood. We’ll have to sand the whole floor anyway, but that means a lot of time on your hands and knees with a sandpaper block to get the edges.”

  “Time on my hands and knees, huh?” Cassie asks, reassured, her sauciness coming back. “I bet you’d like that.”

  “Yeah, well, it gets worse,” I say, ignoring her comment even as my cock doesn’t. “The kitchen needs to be gutted— floors, cabinets, counters, the works. But first, I need to show you something back here in the bedroom.”

  I head for the stairs, intentionally skipping the second, which creaks, and I’m going to have to replace it. I can’t stand creaky steps. They remind me of haunted houses or something.

  Cassie chuckles. “Is that how you get all the ladies to your bedroom?”

  I look back over my shoulder, where I swear Cassie’s looking at my ass. It makes me smirk. “No, I’m more caveman than that. I just grunt. Woman. Bed. Now.” I growl, intentionally lowering my voice more. “And they tend to run that way.”

  “Hmm. I can see how that might work on some women. Especially the ones you gravitate toward. That’s probably all they can understand. Complete sentences are just a little beyond their capabilities, aren’t they?” She’s joking, a little, but if I’m honest, I’m not usually looking for a brilliant conversationalist in the women I see.

  We walk into the bedroom, and Cassie stares at the ladder extending up into the ceiling. “Uh, I don’t think that was there before. Why is there a new hole in my ceiling?”

  “Joke about your holes later, but if you look, there’s a water spot on the ceiling. Yeah, a wet hole,” I reply with a wink. “I uh . . . probed it to see how wet it was, and the ceiling panel just crumbled away. Climb up and see for yourself. The joists are water damaged too.”

  I gesture at the ladder, and Cassie carefully climbs up as I hold it steady. It’s hard, but the ladder literally puts her ass right in my face, and my mind floods with images of me bringing my head forward, grabbing her hips, and seeing what my tongue can find. Still, I keep my composure as her head disappears into the hole. Knowing my voice is probably already husky with desire, I clear my throat before telling her, “Look to the right. The cross beam is there.”

  “Can’t see much. It’s pretty dark,” she complains.

  “Here,” I reply, passing up my little penlight I keep on my keychain. She shines it around, and I hear her curse under her breath.

  “Is it the roof?” Cassie as
ks, her voice still muffled. “I don’t see any water there.”

  “No, the roof’s good. I got up there and checked that,” I tell her. “I’m guessing they fixed it but didn’t check here.”

  Her ass has been wiggling back and forth in front of my face as she tries to see the various areas of damage. I can’t help it. The hypnotic sway has me mesmerized, and my voice sort of catches in my throat. “Caleb?”

  “Huh?” I ask as Cassie peeks back down through the hole and catches me red-handed.

  “If you watch closely enough, it’ll do tricks.” She sways her hips back and forth again and then sticks it out, popping it a little like she’s on the dance floor. I watch her little show, enthralled by her before shaking off the effect she’s having on me. I laugh and give her a good smack on her right cheek. She lets out a cry of shock, rubbing her ass. “You did not just do that!”

  “Yes, I did. You deserved it. Get down here or I’ll do it to the other side so you have matching handprints.”

  Cassie climbs down, turning when she’s halfway down so that she can look me directly in the eyes, her voice dripping honey and her eyes twinkling. “Is that a promise or a threat? I can’t tell.”

  I pause, uncertain of how to respond. My cock knows what it wants, but I’m a little worried about crossing a line that, once we cross it, can’t be uncrossed. Still, she looks so hot in her outfit there on the ladder that I’m fighting the urge to pull her toward me, to grab her ass in my hands and see how far I can go. Finally, I swallow and step back, helping her off the ladder. “Come on, let’s eat the Chinese before it gets cold. And then we’ve got an errand to run.”

  Chapter 12 - Cassie

  I tuck the last of my eggroll in my mouth, trying my best to hide my frustration, but finally, as Caleb pulls into a parking spot and shuts off the engine, I can’t help it anymore. “Really, Home Depot? It’s Friday night and we’re at Home Depot. We might very well be failures of the human race.”

  “Failures?” Caleb asks, chuckling. “You’re getting what you need to grab your slice of the American dream, and doing it with your own two hands. What could be better than that?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I grumble. “You’re right.”

  Caleb chuckles. “I know I am. Now come on, let’s grab some wood.” We get out of the truck, Caleb coming around to make sure I can get down from my seat. “Then maybe later, you can grab mine?”

  I chuckle. That’s the Caleb I want to hear and enjoy hanging out with. Things have been feeling a little different lately. And honestly, my mind has been running a fantasy reel in my thoughts, mostly involving Caleb, that t-shirt, and not much else. “I don’t know. I have a date later. Bob might object.”

  Caleb stops and looks at me, and I swear I see a hint of jealousy. “You have a date? Who’s Bob? You haven’t mentioned him.”

  I stammer for a moment. “Uh, no, I don’t have a date. It was a joke.”

  “Then who’s Bob?”

  I raise my hands defensively, trying not to laugh that I’ve gotten another one over on Caleb. “Nobody, it’s just an expression.”

  “Don’t make me Google it . . . who’s Bob?” Caleb growls intensely. The look in his eyes . . . I’m starting to wonder.

  I can’t hold it back anymore. I start laughing hard. “It’s an acronym. B-O-B. Battery Operated Boyfriend.” I can see the realization dawn on his face, and then he lights up in a big ol’ shit-eating grin.

  “Hot damn, woman, that’s a show I’d pay money to see. What time’s your date?” he asks, playing along now. I blush and give him a little push, feeling his pecs under my palms, but he doesn’t move. He’s steady as a statue. He smiles and then grabs my hand, almost dragging me toward the lumber aisle.

  “Come on, I wouldn’t want to keep you from your very important date,” he says as he grabs a few 2 x 4s, placing them on a flatbed dolly. I stand motionless, watching the swell of his arms and shoulders as he picks up the heavy beams like they weigh nothing and noticing the little strip of skin that shows as his shirt rides up. He stands with his hands on his hips for a moment, obviously lost in thought. “Can you stay here with the cart for a minute? I need some screws from a couple of aisles back. I’ll be just a sec.”

  He walks off with a determined stride, and I find myself alone before I can even reply. I cross my arms, huffing and waiting. “Fine then, I’ll just entertain myself!” I call after him, but he doesn’t turn around.

  I stand there for fewer than ten seconds before a guy in an orange apron comes up, a smile on his face that looks like more than just friendly customer service. I swear, I see him look me up and down before meeting my eyes. “Hey there! Can I help you with something?”

  “No, thank you. Just waiting for my friend to come back,” I say, but it doesn’t seem like that’s enough to deter him.

  “I’m John. Doing some house work?”

  I smirk. This guy’s probably thinking that I’m over my head and that I don’t know a claw hammer from a screwdriver. “A ceiling repair project. We have to repair some joists before putting the new ceiling up.”

  “Wow,” John says. “The 2 x 4s are good for that, but have you considered using 2 x 6s? They distribute . . .” He continues to talk to me, obviously trying to chat me up, and while he’s cute, he’s not my type. But he gets an ‘A’ for effort in trying to be sly about it.

  A few moments later, Caleb comes stalking down the aisle, his face stony. He walks up to me and puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to him. I fit just under his arm, my head right at his chest level like we’re a perfect match. “Hey, babe. Can’t leave you anywhere, can I?” he says, and I can’t reply. The feeling of his arm on my shoulder and the undeniable aura of his body being so close to me has me stunned. “I found those screws, and I see you’ve found a friend.”

  “Ah, yeah,” I mutter, unable to pull myself away from him. I don’t want to either. “This is . . .”

  “John,” Caleb says, staring him down for a beat after glancing at his nametag. “Thanks for the help. I’ve got this handled. Appreciate your expertise.” I can’t help but notice the hint of sarcasm to his tone.

  Before John can say anything, Caleb lets go of me and grabs the dolly, pushing it with one hand and interlocking his fingers on the other with mine. Paying quickly, we get outside, load up the truck, and climb in. As soon as he starts the truck, I turn in the seat, bringing a knee up to my chest. “What was that about?”

  Caleb looks at me for a second, then shakes his head. “Sorry, Cass. I shouldn’t have jumped in like that, but he was obviously flirting with you.”

  I bite back a smartass reply, mainly because my body is still tingling from his putting his arm around me, and my hand feels like a low-grade fever’s running through it where our fingers were entwined. “Uh, yeah. I’m aware. But it’s not like he asked for my number or something.”

  His face twists a little, like he just swallowed something nasty. “Would you have given him your number?”

  I shrug, forcing my knee down to turn and look out the front window of his truck. “I don’t know. Maybe. It’s not like I’ve got guys lining up to date me. You know how it is. I’m still the new girl in town, and I work for a guy who’s intimidating, to say the least. And I’ve been putting my head down and busting my ass to get started on the right foot. It seems like most of the guys around here want a girl who’s happy with dinner and dancing, maybe a little Netflix and chill.”

  Caleb snorts dismissively. “You’re better than that, Cassie. Don’t do that to yourself. That young stud in a fucking apron isn’t your Mr. Right.”

  “You’re probably right, but maybe I don’t even want a Mr. Right. Maybe I just need a Mr. Right Now,” I say, raising my voice. He’s got some nerve. He’s not the one who sees almost all the good options snatched up, except for the one who’s put me firmly in the friend zone. “Don’t get high and mighty on me, Caleb. I know you’ve done the whole one-night stand thing before, so don’t give me any shi
t.”

  “I—” Caleb starts before snapping his jaw shut, the muscles clenching. I watch the muscles in his forearms and jaw twitch as he drives me home. We’d decided it would save time tomorrow if I just caught a ride with him. The whole time, he doesn’t say a word, his eyes glittering with suppressed anger instead.

  We pull up in front of my apartment building, and I look over at him, waiting for something. Instead, he hits the button on his console and my door unlocks.

  “I’ll see you bright and early. We’ve got work to do,” he says quietly, and I realize I’ve been dismissed. I climb out, closing the door and stepping back.

  “Caleb—” I start, but before I can say anything, he’s pulling away, my new 2 x 4s sticking out the back of his truck, the safety rag flapping merrily in the wind as he disappears into the darkness. I stare after him, unsure of what just happened. I mean, we’ve argued before, sure, but mainly about things that were forgotten a few minutes later.

  But this was just weird . . .

  Chapter 13 - Caleb

  Fuming, I drive the last screw on the reinforcement into the crossbeam, taking a look at my work. It was a pain in the ass bringing the beams up the ladder to the crawlspace, but it’s done, and I check them one last time. Everything looks good.

  “If only she were here to see it,” I mutter, climbing down through the hole I’ve torn in the ceiling. I can get to that next weekend. I already rearranged my schedule to have this Monday to work here, hoping to get a jump on things. Looking around, I feel tired, more tired than I thought I would be. It’s been a few days since I’ve seen Cassie after our fight. She skipped out on helping out at the house for the past two days with some pretty lame excuses. The thing is, I’m not really angry at her, although I’ll admit I’ve muttered a few curses as I’ve struggled with a few things that an extra set of hands would’ve come in handy with.