The Bad Boy's Baby (Hope Springs)

by Cindi Madsen

  The cage turned upside down, all the blood rushing to his head, and he couldn’t believe that at one point in his life he’d thought this was fun. His heart pounded too hard, the metal bar dug into his hip with each flip—and because it was set for him, Emma was sliding around way more than he liked. And he hated to admit this, but his back was probably going to hurt tomorrow morning from all the jerking around.

  Finally the ride slowed to a stop, and he tapped his fingers on the metal bar, waiting to escape. Over the past few years, he’d been crammed into a lot of confined spaces, but he never got used to it. The itchy, lung-tightening sensation hit him, and he wanted to bolt. How stupid that he couldn’t do something so normal without reliving too many close missions.

  “You okay?” Emma asked.

  He tapped his fingers faster. “Of course.”

  She brushed her hand across the top of his, and the tightness in his chest eased. Instead of clinging to the bar, he turned his palm and clung to her. The door swung open with another screech of metal—the entire thing should be bathed in WD-40—and sweet, open air greeted them.

  He stepped outside then offered Emma a hand. When the cage rocked and she stumbled forward, her body bumped into his. He wrapped his arms around her, glad for the excuse to hold onto her for a moment—her nearness was much more enjoyable with nothing but sky surrounding them, too.

  She tipped up her head and dragged her thumb over his biceps, making his pulse race after her touch. “We don’t have to go on any more.”

  “Oh, we’re riding every single ride.” Yes, he’d probably experience a bit of claustrophobia, but he could get through it, especially with Emma by his side.

  He noticed she picked out more open, less jarring rides after that, though, and he didn’t think it was for her benefit. After several rides, the ground seemed unsteady under his feet, and they wandered into the area with more of the booths.

  Emma glanced at the rows of stuffed animals hanging behind the shooting game. “You know, it’s funny, because so many nights I wish for a small break from mommy duty, then when I get away, I spend so much time thinking about Zoey and missing her. She’d love this place.”

  “I guess we’d better take her back a stuffed animal, then.”

  “Yes, these ones are extra awesome, because they’ve usually got an eye going the wrong way. They’re like the stuffed animals who’ve lived near the nuclear power plant for too long and aren’t quite right.”

  Cam laughed. He looked at the rows of stuffed animals, noticing how true that was. He paid the guy and picked up the BB gun. Then he took aim and pulled the trigger. He frowned when it didn’t hit the center, lined up the shot, and hit the same spot again. He repeated, adjusting as he pulled the trigger again and again, but it wasn’t until the last one that he neared the bull’s-eye.

  “Close,” the guy working the booth said. “You hit enough for one of these.” He pointed to the tiny mutant fish. At least there was a pink one.

  As they walked away, Cam muttered, “That game was totally rigged. I’ve had training. I earned top marks. I can hit a—” He stopped. That was a little too much information, and not something he wanted Emma to ever think about him doing. “I’m an expert marksman,” he quickly said to cover, and now he wanted to move on.

  Emma tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. “Don’t worry, after you protected me in the big bad cage of the zipper, I have no worries about your tactical skills. Not to mention the Patsy Higgins thing. And Zoey will love her fish—I don’t have space for one of those obnoxiously big teddy bears that will split apart and shed fluff everywhere, anyway.”

  He wrapped his arm around her, loving how she always saw the bright side of things.

  “I hear music,” she said, turning toward the park where he’d originally planned on taking her.

  “Confession time?”

  She whipped her head toward him, worry etched in her features.

  “It’s much less of a confession than you’re thinking. I was just going to tell you that I meant to bring you here for the music. Not the rides.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You were so excited about the carnival.” He tipped his head toward the park. “But I do have a blanket in my truck. Want to grab some food and then we can go listen for a while?”

  She nodded and said she’d get the food while he retrieved the blanket. They met up at the entrance of the park a few minutes later. Once they found an open spot, he spread out the blanket and she carefully balanced the food, nearly losing her grip as she lowered herself to the ground.

  After eating her hot dog, Emma dug into the cotton candy, her lips turning blue from the spun sugar. “Thanks for tonight,” she said. “It’s been a long, long time since I went on a date.”

  “Me, too.” Even back in high school, he didn’t really do official dates.

  “Yeah, that’s just because you were away serving the country. Mine was more because no one was asking.”

  “If I recall, you had another offer just this week.” He twisted the bottom of her shirt in his hand and tugged her closer, dropping a quick kiss on her blue lips. “Thanks for not taking him up on it, by the way. It’d be bad for business if I had to take out the scrawny architect.”

  “As if it was even a competition…” She shook her head and muttered, “Mr. Caveman.” She pinched off a piece of cotton candy and extended it to him.

  Cam leaned over and ate it out of her fingers, adding a grunt that made her laugh.

  Once the food was gone, he propped himself up on his palm and pulled her back against his chest. The bands were pretty good, although maybe he was just seeing everything through Emma-tinted lenses now. When she shivered, he pulled her closer and ran his hands up and down her arms.

  “I need to talk to you about something…” The thought of where he needed to steer the conversation was enough to put a dent in the happy vibe, and he hated to ruin the easy mood. So he decided to put it off a little while longer and change the path of the conversation to another subject he’d wanted to bring up. “Now that the weather’s turning warmer, I was thinking maybe we could take Zoey up to the lake and spend a day fishing. As soon as the lodge opens, I know things are going to get busy fast, but I thought a sort of practice run would be fun. What do you say?”

  Emma twisted in his arms so that she was facing him. “You’ll help me carry the billion bags that taking Zoey anywhere requires?”

  “What else would I do with all these muscles?” He flexed to add to the joke, and she giggled.

  She leaned in, her lips mere inches away. “Sounds like a perfect way to spend a day.”

  He closed the gap and kissed her again, and all of his past mistakes and bad memories pushed that much farther into the background.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The entire night seemed like one big dream, similar to the whimsical dates Emma had always envisioned back in high school. Carnival rides and music under the stars with a guy she was crazy about keeping her warm. This date had made up for all the ones she’d missed in her life, to the point that even the fact that she hadn’t gone on a single one in the past three years no longer felt like a big deal.

  But as they exited the carnival grounds, she couldn’t help noticing the way women looked at Cam, their gazes lingering. One was so bold as to wink, even though Emma’s hand was in his, a clear sign they were together. At least she thought it was pretty clear.

  She could read their expressions, too, looks that said, Why is he with her?

  The question echoed through her head, unwelcome and stirring up the self-esteem issues she thought she’d conquered years ago. If Zoey wasn’t in the picture, would he be with her?

  Probably not. A sinking sensation went through her gut. In fact, he’d even brought Zoey up when he’d asked her to give him a chance, saying they owed it to their daughter. She understood, because she wanted the best for Zoey, too, but just once, she wanted to be wanted for her.

  She thou
ght of her parents, of all the fights where her father made it clear he would walk away if they didn’t have a daughter together. She’d sat in her room and promised herself that she’d never settle for such a conditional excuse for love. In the end, it hadn’t kept them together, either. It’d only driven a wedge between them, one filled with mean words that’d left all of them miserable, along with the issues that came with feeling unwanted and unloved.

  Why am I thinking about this? It’s way too soon. Like Cam had pointed out, she worried about hypothetical future problems before they even had a chance to happen.

  At the same time, the beginning was when all that passion and having trouble keeping their hands off each other was supposed to happen.

  She wanted intense kissing, and to run her hands down his whiskered face, down his body, but she wasn’t going to be the one to push the boundaries and make a fool of herself, even if just the thought of it sent a spike of desire through her.

  Emma was fairly confident Cam enjoyed her company, but she couldn’t help but worry a little. Their kisses were sweet, with none of that passion from the night they’d first hooked up, when she’d been pretending to be someone else.

  He did say I looked nice.

  Yeah, nice, not hot. Not pretty.

  Don’t start overanalyzing it, or you’ll ruin everything.

  When Cam pulled open the passenger door of his truck for her, she forced a smile onto her face and climbed into the cab.

  For most of the ride back, it was quiet. Not uncomfortably so, but clearly there was still a lot that she didn’t know about Cam. She knew he had a complicated relationship with his dad, and as intimidated as she was by Rod Brantley, she thought it was better to get it out in the open instead of having an awkward run-in in the middle of town.

  She reached up and twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “I assume your dad’s probably heard about Zoey by now…?”

  Cam’s hands tightened on the wheel. “It’s come up, yes. In fact, I need to talk to you about something, but I didn’t want to ruin the night.”

  Maybe she should’ve kept her mouth closed on the subject. Why hadn’t she started with something simpler? Like favorite color? Or favorite food?

  “Earlier this week, my dad did call and ask me when he could meet her. And today he called again and told me he understood you and I were still figuring things out, but he would love for the two of you to have Sunday dinner with us all tomorrow night. I realize it’s late notice, and I should’ve brought it up earlier. I’ve just been going back and forth on the whole thing, because I’m not sure I want to pull you and Zoey into the mess that is my screwed-up family.”

  Emma swallowed. “I understand. And it’s not like I have a busy schedule.”

  “You don’t have to check your calendar?” he asked, a hint of teasing in his voice.

  “Well, of course I have to consult that. I’m just saying I might be able to pencil you in.” Which reminded her that she still needed to have a talk with Pete. He’d left soon after asking her out, so she hadn’t had the chance, and it was another awkward conversation she wasn’t looking forward to.

  Let’s just focus on one awkward situation at a time… “If you want Zoey and me to come, we can.” She was proud of how firm her voice had come out, considering everything inside her suddenly felt shaky.

  Cam reached over and grabbed her hand. “Quinn offered to host at Mountain Ridge, so there’d be more room, as well as it being more neutral territory. The truth is, while I’m still figuring out my relationship with my dad, he was actually pretty cool about the whole Zoey thing. I thought he’d throw things I’d said to him back in my face, but all he said was he wanted to meet her.”

  Emma wasn’t sure exactly what his version of “pretty cool” was, but she hoped Rod would save some of it for her. She supposed she’d never declare herself truly ready to meet Rod Brantley, not after keeping Zoey a secret for so long. But ready or not, it was a step they needed to cross eventually to avoid that whole awkward encounter situation that had led her to bring it up in the first place. “We’ll come to dinner and meet everyone, then.”

  Cam lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “Thanks. It’ll be fun for Ollie to meet her, too. I think he’s going to be thrilled about being an uncle.” He huffed a laugh. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with baseball.”

  Emma nodded, her mind already formulating a game plan for the meeting. It was hardly the way she’d wanted to end the date, but again, she supposed her complicated life made it impossible to have normal dating rules.

  At least with Cam by her side, she felt like she could take on anything, be it family dinner or heading into the mountains with a two-year-old who didn’t like to stay put.

  …

  Cam waited outside the lodge for Emma and Zoey while the buzz of conversation continued inside. The more space he and Dad gave each other, the more likely they’d still be getting along when Emma and Zoey arrived. The way Heath had forgiven Dad for everything was admirable, but Cam wasn’t so sure he could do the same.

  He’d warned him to be nice to Emma, though, and as long as Dad did that, he’d at least suffer through the evening.

  Dust kicked up on the road, and pretty soon the little gray car he’d repaired with enough new parts to practically make a new one pulled up in front of him. One look at Emma and he could see the apprehension written across her face. He took the porch steps a couple at a time and reached out for her as she climbed out of the car. He helped her to her feet and gave her hand a squeeze in an attempt to take away some of her worry.

  When she smiled at him, though, he was the soothed one. Then his fears rose to the surface. Would she meet Dad and worry that he’d end up like him, the way he sometimes did? Would she look at him the same way if she knew all the things he’d done? Could a sweet, smart girl like her really want to take a chance on a guy like him?

  Cam reached into the back of the car and unfastened Zoey, who’d fallen asleep in her seat—his daughter was probably one of the few things he had going for him with Emma, and he hoped to take that wiggle room and earn enough to deserve both of their affection.

  His daughter was a little furnace, and he boosted her a few inches higher in one arm before wrapping the other around Emma’s waist. “Ready?”

  “No,” she said, but then she started toward the entrance of the former B and B—they really needed to figure out if they should stick to calling it a lodge, or if they should call it a B and B still, or if…well, now he was stalling so he didn’t have to think of his two worlds colliding.

  Thank goodness Quinn and Heath would be here to help dispel some of the tension.

  Right before they got to the door, he spun around. Bracing one hand on the still-sleeping Zoey, he leaned down and kissed Emma, putting everything he could into it with the use of only one hand. She gasped, and he took advantage, sweeping his tongue in to meet hers.

  She stared at him through half-lidded eyes, and he wished he’d taken the time to give her a proper kiss good-bye last night. He felt like Emma was constantly holding back, probably because of the way they’d first gotten together, and he didn’t want her to think he expected more. Not until she was ready.

  “What was that for?” she asked.

  “So you’ll remember how much you like being around me.”

  “My, someone thinks highly of his kisses,” she said, but then she tipped onto her toes and gave him another. Then she turned toward the door, her chin notched higher, and she actually looked ready to go in now.

  As soon as they stepped into the main room, the conversation died down. Dad’s gaze bounced from Cam to Emma to Zoey.

  Dad stood, wiped his hands on his jeans, and then extended one to Emma. “Rod Brantley.”

  “Emma Walker. Nice to meet you.”

  Zoey stirred as the rest of the introductions were made—Emma already knew Quinn and Heath, of course, but she hadn’t officially met Oliver or Sheena.

  “And this is
Zoey,” Cam said, rubbing her back as she blinked at everyone.

  When Dad moved closer and said hi, she dropped her head back on Cam’s shoulder.

  “She fell asleep on the drive over,” Emma said. “She might need a few minutes to wake up.”

  As if to prove her mom wrong, though, Zoey’s head popped up. “Puppy!”

  Trigger, Heath’s little blue heeler, came bounding over, and Zoey wiggled to get down. She squatted, her bum all but hitting the floor, and wrapped her arms around the puppy, who went to licking her face. Both of them were way too happy about the situation, and it warmed Cam from the inside out.

  Pretty soon, six adults and one eight-year-old boy were crouched around a puppy and a little girl with blond curly hair. Dad’s hand came down on Cam’s shoulder and he looked over at his father, waiting for some kind of criticism.

  “I can’t believe I’m a grandpa,” he said. Most people probably wouldn’t have heard the catch in his voice or seen the awe in his eyes. Cam had thought Dad might be a bit brusque with Emma about not telling any of them about Zoey, or that he’d say something highly inappropriate to her. He’d also expected a jab about the lodge and his boys leaving him to run the shop alone, until they inevitably failed, and couldn’t she at least talk some sense into him if she was going to be around?

  Never in a million years had he expected Dad to get emotional about having a granddaughter, and it made his own heart knot. One by one, they stood—they’d never outlast Zoey, who could squat for hours in that position. It was the kind of stance they used to break grown men in boot camp, but it seemed to be her home base.

  Dad turned to Emma, and despite the recent warm fuzzies, Cam still took her hand, wanting her to have his if she needed something to hold on to.

  “So, she’s two?”

  Emma let out a shallow exhale and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Oh, no need for this ‘sir’ business,” Dad said, swiping a hand through the air. “Please call me Rod. After all, we’re family now—even if you and my son don’t work out.”