Baby Daddy: A Sexy STANDALONE Romantic Comedy

by Nelle L'Amour

  “Darling, you’re a child after my own heart. I began skating at your age, and my son took to the ice almost as soon as he could walk.”

  I felt myself reddening. But that was a fact. Before I could say a word, Tyson tugged at Dee’s sweater.

  “Mommy, I want a pretty skating costume like Drake’s mommy’s.”

  “They’re very expensive.” I detected a bit of frustration in Dee’s voice. It must be hard to not be able to give your kid whatever he or she wanted. But then I remembered that despite their extreme wealth, my parents made me work for what I wanted. And save up. Even in college. I so fucking wanted that Mustang convertible, but it took being a sperm donor to finally get one. My parents had no clue how I’d earned the money. I told them I worked in the campus bookstore (fat chance!) and they believed me. My wanking-off-for-dollars days filled my head and distracted me. So, when I heard a familiar breathy voice call out my name, I was startled.

  My heart jumped, hurtling me back to the moment. Standing at the entrance to the dining room was Krizia Vanderberg, the stunning daughter of my father’s financial advisor, Karl. Once an aspiring actress, she now had her own public relations firm and counted us among her clients. We’d grown up together, and both sets of parents thought we were a match made in heaven. They were wrong. I had no interest in Krizia and never had. She was pushy, abrasive, and manipulative, qualities that served her well in her new career. And qualities that turned me off along with her relentlessness to get me into bed and put a ring on her finger. A wild party girl, she stalked me at events and once went as far as throwing a glass of champagne in my face when I refused to take a photo with her. And then there was the time she tried to unzip my fly and grab my cock. The list went on and got worse. With her acute mood swings, sometimes I wondered if she was manic-depressive or high on something. My father had recently been urging me to get to know her better—start up a relationship—especially since Gunther Saxton was looking for me to settle down. While my father thought highly of Krizia as a professional, he had no clue about her stalking tendencies or erratic behavior in her personal life. I held back on sharing this info with him because of his long-time relationship with her father. Moreover, she’d been instrumental in bringing Gunther and my father together. Gunther, it turned out, was also her client. So, I found myself walking on eggshells, risking setting Krizia off and upsetting the all-important Saxton Enterprises takeover.

  I met her feline green eyes. I hadn’t seen her in a while. She’d been away on a business trip in South America for several weeks. Holding a mimosa in one hand, she looked as beautiful as ever. Tall, slender, and bronzed. Fresh and rested. Her mane of flaming red hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft, lustrous waves, and her tight designer jeans and halter-top showcased her supermodel figure. Given how beautiful she was, neither my mother nor father could understand why I wasn’t attracted to her. She was, according to them, perfect marriage material.

  “Why aren’t you saying hello, Drake darling?” she pouted, snubbing Dee and her little girl.

  “Krizia, what are you doing here?” My tone was as cold as ice.

  “Why just helping your mother with the seating arrangement for the upcoming gala. It’s mega important that Gunther sits next to the right people.”

  My mother smiled. “It’s such a Godsend to have her here. She’s been so helpful.”

  “Thank you, Alexis. The party is going to be divine.”

  “Krizia literally just got back from Brazil,” my mother informed me, “where she had a lot of work.”

  Shooting me a seductive smile, Krizia sauntered into the room. On closer inspection, it was obvious what kind of “work.” Plastic surgery. Her tits looked noticeably bigger as did her lips, and that little bump on her otherwise perfect nose was gone. Her eyes shifted to Dee and Tyson, giving them the once over.

  “Drake, why don’t you introduce me to your friends?” Her voice was coated with disdain.

  “I recognize you from the photos I saw of you with Drake online,” Dee said before I could make the introductions.

  A predatory smile snaked across Krizia’s plump lips. “And you are…”

  “Dee. Drake’s temp.”

  Krizia’s arched brows shot up. “Really?”

  “Mona’s daughter gave birth early. She’s taking a few weeks off to be with her new grandson,” I explained, trying my best to get through this uncomfortable encounter.

  “Whatever,” sniffed Krizia dismissively. Egocentric Krizia had little interest in the affairs of other people, and she detested children. Sitting down at the table next to my mother, her venomous gaze fixed on Tyson. “And who is this little imp?”

  I cringed. Fucking Krizia. I wanted to stuff one of my mother’s paper seating arrangements down her throat.

  Tyson looked up at her mother, her eyes full of innocence. “Mommy, what’s an imp?”

  Dee protectively wrapped her arm around her daughter and then narrowed her eyes at Krizia. Poison darts were going back and forth between them and I was in the crossfire. There was nothing I could do except get the hell out of here as fast as I could.

  Before Dee could respond to Tyson, I bit out, “Mom, we need to go. I promised I’d take Dee and her daughter to The Beverly Hills Hotel coffee shop for lunch.”

  “But darling, I’ve had Blanca prepare a lovely salad with fresh Alaskan king crab. Your favorite. Why don’t all of you stay and join us?”

  “Yes, why don’t you…Drake?” echoed Krizia, taking a slow sip of her mimosa.

  Dee answered for me. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hanson. Tyson is highly allergic to crabs and so am I.”

  Krizia fired Dee a scathing look. My chest constricted. And I was allergic to bitches.

  CHAPTER 19

  Dee

  We ended up spending the rest of Saturday with Drake. After lunch at the famed Beverly Hills Hotel coffee shop, where Drake and his father regularly lunched when he was a boy, he wanted to show us some sights. With his convertible top down, we drove through Beverly Hills, where he pointed out movie star mansions before heading into Hollywood to Grauman’s Theater where we all went crazy comparing our handprints and footprints to every major movie star who’d ever laid their hands or feet into the cement. I had promised Tyson a movie and we ended up at The Grove, a fairytale-like outdoor mall with a tram, where they were playing a thirty-five-year anniversary edition of ET. My first time seeing it, I loved it as much as she did.

  “Drake no go home!” begged my little one in her best ET voice over dinner at the adjacent Farmer’s Market. “Can he sleep over again?”

  “I’m afraid not tonight.”

  Tyson folded her arms across her chest and gave me her pouty look. “Not fair. Tomorrow’s my birthday!”

  Before I could utter another word, Drake jumped in. “What are you doing for your birthday?”

  Tyson’s face lit up with excitement. “Mommy’s taking me to the Santa Monica Pier. Do you want to come with us, Drake? It’s gonna be so much fun!”

  “Tyson!” I reprimanded, but what did it matter?

  I knew in my heart that I had won half the battle and lost the other. I couldn’t say no to my daughter. Especially in light of her birthday. Drake was coming with us tomorrow. I’d be lying, however, if I didn’t admit that I wished I’d let him stay over. The threat of Kyle returning loomed. The house was secure. I had to wear my big girl panties. Truthfully, I was more afraid Drake wouldn’t let me keep them on.

  The rest of the night, thank goodness, transpired without any drama. Maybe Kyle was more afraid of Drake than I was of him. Drake did after all kick his ass and, with his size and strength, could do it again. I reminded myself that under his skin, Kyle was a coward. He’d given into failure rather than challenge it and succeed.

  Drake picked us up in his convertible mid Sunday morning. Warm and sunny, the weather couldn’t have been more perfect for a day at The Pier. Or another exhilarating ride in Drake’s convertible. Drake once had the radio turned to som
e countdown station, and in the back seat, Ty was belting out the songs at the top of her lungs. I turned to look at her and my heart melted. She was now six. It was her “big girl” birthday. Time flew by so quickly, and part of me wished I could slow it down. No matter how big she got, she would always be my little girl.

  “Ty has a great voice,” Drake remarked, cutting into my bittersweet thoughts.

  “I know,” I said proudly, shouting above the blasting music and blaring wind. We were cruising down the 10 Freeway, which took us directly to The Pier.

  Drake cast a glance at me. “I heard you sing the other night at that club.”

  I cringed. Gah! I must have been so drunk. “I’m sorry you had to endure that. My voice is so bad it could scare off aliens.”

  He laughed. “Oh, then Ty got her talent from her father?”

  His unexpected reference to Kyle sent a shiver down my spine. “M-maybe…”

  My companion instantly realized his faux pas. Kyle was dead to me. Dead to Tyson. “I’m sorry.” His voice was low and remorseful.

  “It’s okay.” Recovering, I asked him if he sang.

  “Yeah. I have a pretty good voice if I must say so myself.”

  “You’re so full of yourself. Prove it.”

  He smiled smugly. God, he was gorgeous in his Ray-Bans, T-shirt, and ripped jeans. His hair rippled in the wind, making it more sexily tousled than ever. I had the burning urge to run my fingers through it, but refrained. The next song came on—an Ed Sheeran one. A memory unexpectedly resurfaced. We’d danced to it at that club. I loved that song and I loved the way Ed sang it. Drake joined in.

  Oh God. He did have an incredible voice. Soft with just the right amount of rasp. Pitch perfect, he harmonized with Ed. He was melting me. And then on the line about people falling in love in the most mysterious way, he took my left hand, entwining his long fingers with mine. A delicious flurry of tingles spun around in my body. I glanced at him, and his eyes met mine for a brief moment. He flashed a saucy smile as he continued to sing.

  “Oh baby, take me into your loving arms,” I sang the lyrics silently in my head as he faced the road again and finished the song, harmonizing perfectly with my favorite recording artist.

  “Wow, Drake! You sing great!” exclaimed Ty before I could say a thing.

  “You do,” I agreed, my shaky voice a cross between awestruck and love-struck. Why was he kicking up an emotional dust storm inside me? I had never felt this way about a man. Not even with Kyle. What I had with Kyle was wild infatuation. Idol worship. The need to escape. What I felt with Drake was different. It felt real. Honest. Down-to-earth. I liked him. I actually more than liked him. He was giving me a slow burn that could turn into a wildfire if I didn’t keep a lid on it.

  The traffic was light and we got to The Pier in less than an hour. At the sight of the ocean and the rides, Ty squealed with excitement.

  “Mommy, I want to do the roller coaster first! Please? Pretty please!”

  The five-car roller coaster was whipping around a ginormous bright yellow track. People were screaming. I’d never ridden a roller coaster or a Ferris wheel. My drunkard mother never took us to amusement parks. Never. And now maybe I was too old for one. Ty, however, had been counting down the days to go to The Pier, and I hoped she was tall enough for the roller coaster. I’d read online you had to measure at least forty-two inches and Ty was borderline that.

  “C’mon guys. This is going to be fun!” Drake hopped out of the car, unbuckled Ty’s car seat, and then lifted her out of it.

  “Drake, can you give me a piggyback ride?”

  A smile that could light up the sky beamed on his face. “Sure, birthday girl.”

  I watched as he effortlessly slid Ty over his shoulders. “Drake, be careful with her.”

  He rolled his eyes at me. “Seriously, Dee?”

  “Oh, Mommy, you’re such a worrywart,” Ty said with a laugh as Drake rounded the car to open my door.

  “I could have done that,” I said, unbuckling myself.

  “Well you didn’t, and I was brought up to be a gentleman.”

  A gentleman. A gentle man. I’d never had neither in my turbulent life.

  “Thanks,” I said softly.

  That dazzling smile again flashed on his face, sending my emotions on a roller coaster ride of their own.

  Traversing both the wide sandy beach and the white-crested waves of the Pacific Ocean, the iconic Santa Monica Pier, which opened in 1909, stretched almost a half-mile long. It was packed with people of all ages and races, families, friends, and lovers, gleefully united by their quest to have a day of fun. Despite my protest, Drake purchased a “family package” that included all-day wristbands for all the rides. I would be lying if I didn’t say that’s what it felt like—that we were a family, a family of three who’d been together forever. I was amazed by how comfortable Ty was with Drake and vice versa. They took to each other like bread and butter. At the sight of this sinfully sexy man with my pride and joy on his back, my heart swelled with an emotion I couldn’t put into words. There was something about this spectacular man with my precious daughter that made everything inside me flutter. Wanting to remember them together, I took some photos with my phone while we waited in line for the roller coaster.

  “Give me your phone and stand next to us,” said Drake, Ty still riding on his back. “I’m gonna take some selfies.”

  Before I could blink, the phone was in Drake’s hand and I was beside him.

  “Smile…say cheese…make a face,” he commanded, snapping one photo after another as Ty and I obliged. “Now stick out your tongues.”

  Laughing, I turned to face Drake and did as he asked. To my surprise, his tongue met mine and flicked it. The warm, ticklish touch of it sent a bevy of butterflies to my core, and in my head, I begged for more…his lips on mine, his hands all over me. My eyelids lowered as his tongue continued to play with mine. I didn’t know how long we’d been doing this when Ty’s voice broke into my trance, snapping my eyes open. I immediately pulled away from Drake, who wore a wry smile. He licked his upper lip I bet just to incense me. Yes, I was on fire.

  “Mommy! Drake! It’s almost our turn!”

  Gah! It was. Now at the front of the line, we would definitely get on the next car. My heartbeat sped up. My muscles clenched. I was freaking. I didn’t want to do this ride. Having endured the long wait, how could I gracefully back out? I gazed up, taking in the speed of the cars whipping around the tracks and all the screaming people, and I knew this wasn’t for me. I was a coward. The story of my life. Afraid to be daring. Afraid to make changes. My move to LA had been the bravest thing I’d ever done. Well, after conceiving Ty.

  The bright yellow coaster came to a slow, chugging stop in front of us. And then came the big moment. Not mine. Drake set Tyson down on her feet so she could be measured by a mega-sized ruler. My heart hammered in my chest with anticipation. Please let her pass the height test! She wanted so badly to do this ride. She’d talked about it forever, even before we moved to LA. She just had to measure forty-two inches. In the car, Drake had told her to stand up tall, hold in her stomach, and puff out her chest. He’d even given her a few Kleenex to stuff in her Sketchers to make her a little taller. He was such a fucking scam artist, but so damn good. Holding my breath, I watched as my little one got measured. Following Drake’s advice, she stood tall and as still as a statue against the mega-ruler, worry etched on her face. “Taller, taller. Stand up taller. Lift up your shoulders. Tilt up your chin. Pray to the amusement park gods,” I said silently, seeing she narrowly skimmed the required height. It could go either way. I was already feeling my daughter’s disappointment if she didn’t qualify. I think I felt it more than her. That’s what mothers did.

  “Let’s move it.” The attendant’s gruff voice broke into my thoughts. It took a couple of long moments for his words to sink in. Yes! She’d passed. We were good to go!

  “Yay!” shouted Tyson, jumping up and down as the atten
dant swung open the entrance gate and passengers clamored off the roller coaster, most bearing big grins and many saying they wanted to do it again. Really? Were they kidding?

  And then there were a few who looked ghoulish green. Like they were going to barf or pass out. My stomach twisted with fear. That was going to be me! I’d never survive this hellish ride.

  “Front car,” said the attendant, ushering us onto the ride.

  My heart pounding, it was now or never. I made a quick decision. Never.

  “Cupcake, I’m going to wait for you here. I don’t want to do the ride. And besides only two of us can sit together. You can go on with Drake.”

  A disheartened frown tugged at my Ty’s sweet lips. It gutted me. That it was her birthday made it even more unbearable. She hugged me, her slender arms wrapping around my legs.

  “No, Mommy. Please. I want you to come.”

  Drake chimed in. “I want you to come too.”

  Why did I read more into his words than I should?

  “Please, Mommy. I’ll sit in the front row and you can sit behind me with Drake.”

  In a few heartbeats, all three of us were in the car, Tyson sitting in front of me next to a jubilant silver-haired grandma and Drake sitting next to me, the safety bars lowered.

  “Cupcake, are you okay,” I asked Tyson, tapping her back and feeling terribly guilty that I wasn’t sitting next to her.

  She looked over her shoulder. “Yes, Mommy. I can’t wait! It’s gonna be so much fun.”

  The grandma, who turned out to be Drake’s parents’ neighbor, gave me an aside. “Bubala, trust me. It’s as fun as shtupping. No need to vorry shmorry.”

  Her enviable fearlessness, like Ty’s, did nothing to soothe me. “Drake, I’m scared!”

  Laughing, he squeezed my hand. “Seriously, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Driving in a car is way more dangerous. And the ride will be over before you know it.”