The Miracle Baby Box Set: Volume One: Books 1 - 4

by Hamel, B. B.

  17

  Addie

  “Look at you,” I say, grinning at him. “All grown up.”

  He almost looks bashful. “Yeah, well, whatever. Come on in.”

  Will opens the door to his new apartment and I walk inside. It’s pretty sparsely furnished, and there’s nothing on the clean white walls, but it’s all his. There’s a TV, there’s a couch, there’s a coffee table, and I assume there’s a bed. That’s probably all he needs right now.

  “Your very own apartment,” I say to him.

  “This isn’t the first time I’ve had my own place, you know,” he says.

  “It’s the first time you’ve lived alone,” I point out.

  He grins. “That’s true. It’s a little lonely.”

  “Oh yeah?” I smirk. “Is that why you invited me over?”

  He laughs and walks into the kitchen. “Caught me. And here I was thinking this would be my housewarming party.”

  I walk over and sit at the counter as he brings out two glasses and a bottle of wine. “Pretty sad party, if you ask me.”

  “Turns out I don’t have a ton of friends in Weston, who knew?” He shrugs and pours two drinks. “I just invited the only person who matters, anyway.”

  I roll my eyes but accept the drink with a smile. “Don’t be so sappy.”

  “Don’t be so cute.”

  I groan and sip the wine. He laughs and takes a nice long drink. There’s this strange tension between us, but I don’t know what it is.

  I think because this is the first time we’ve been alone since the night we slept together. We’ve been texting a bunch and talking on the phone, and I saw him briefly the night he got kicked out of his dad’s house. He stopped over just to let me know that he was okay, but Eleanor was there, so we couldn’t really talk much.

  Things moved fast after that. He got a hotel room for a few nights and found this apartment pretty fast, which is either lucky, or there’s just not a huge thriving apartment culture n Weston. I assume it’s a little bit of both. I’ve been busy with work and Cara and didn’t get to visit him at the hotel, which is probably for the best.

  I know what he wanted to do. I know what I wanted to do. And I know what I still want.

  He leans against the refrigerator, wine glass rolling in one hand. “Want the tour?”

  “Sure, why not.”

  I slip in behind him as he walks toward the family room. “This is where I watch hockey,” he says, gesturing at the old, brown couch. “This little beauty is the finest trash-picked couch in all of Weston.”

  I make a face. “Trash?”

  “Some rich guy was just putting it on the curb when I was driving by.” He laughs and pats it again. “I mean, look at it, perfect condition.”

  “I’m not sitting on that.” I stare at him.

  “More for me!” He laughs and moves on toward the hall. “Here’s the bathroom, where the magic happens, you know.” He gestures into a small full bath.

  “Lovely,” I say.

  “And here’s where the real action occurs.” He pushes open his bedroom door. “Voila. The bedroom.”

  I follow him in and laugh a little. It’s pretty much empty except for a queen bed, a single nightstand, and his duffel bag of clothes on the floor.

  “Obviously I need more furniture,” he says. “I’m just happy I have a place.”

  “Do you want help with that?” I ask him, going over to sit on the bed. “I can decorate for you.”

  “Oh, yeah? You’ll be my interior designer?”

  “Sure,” I say, leaning back, wine glass balanced on my stomach. “I’ll make this place real nice.”

  “I’m sure you will.” I feel him leaning over me. He takes my glass away and I hear him set it down on the nightstand.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, smiling.

  “Nothing.” He starts to unbutton my jeans.

  “Will. That looks like something.”

  “Does it?” He cocks his head. “No, I don’t think so.” He finishes unbuttoning my pants and starts to pull them off.

  I lift my hips and let him. He slides them off and tosses them onto the floor.

  “Something different about you,” he muses.

  “Yeah, I have no pants on.”

  “That’s it. I like it.”

  “I bet you do.”

  He pulls me to the edge of the bed and I wrap my legs around his waist. He grabs my hair, tipping my chin up toward him.

  “Do you still have bruises?” he asks softly.

  I shake my head. “The handprint was the last to go.”

  “Damn.” He kisses me softly. “I think we can fix that.”

  I fall into him again, even though I shouldn’t. Before I realize it, my shirt’s off, and his hands are all over my body. My bra follows, and my clothes are on a pile on the floor as he pushes me back onto the bed, my hair spilling around me.

  He pulls his shirt off, revealing his tanned and muscular chest. I reach out to touch him as he spreads my legs and climbs on top of me, his body pressing me down. He kisses every inch of my skin, lips to neck to breasts to hips. It feels so good and I’m losing myself with desire again, unable to step away from this moment.

  “It’s been too long,” he says.

  “It’s been a week.”

  “Way too long.” He pulls my panties off and I laugh. I roll over, pushing him down and straddling him. He reaches down between my legs and teases my pussy as I bend over, kissing him and letting his fingers roam my clit. I wiggle my ass as he slides his fingers inside of me.

  I move down him and tug his boxer briefs off. He’s rock hard already and I take him into my mouth, rolling my tongue along his skin. He groans as I suck him, taking him into my throat and back. He lets me do all the work, which I love. I lose myself a little, getting sloppy, sucking his cock and making him groan.

  He pulls my head back by the hair and he rolls me onto my back. I stare up at him as he roughly pins my hands above my head and spreads my legs wide. There’s a fire in his eyes again as he presses his cock against my pussy and slowly thrusts deep inside.

  I groan, chin tipped up. “That never gets old,” I say.

  “It better not.” He puts his hand on my throat, my hands pinned above my head. He starts to fuck me like that, slow at first, but getting faster, rougher. I work my hips and ride him, getting into the rhythm of it. I love how he dominates me, controls me. Keeps me pinned in place.

  He pulls back and rolls me onto my stomach. He spreads my ass and licks me top to bottom before fucking me again. I have to bite down onto a pillow to stop from screaming his name out over and over. He rocks deeper and deeper and slaps my ass hard enough to leave a bruise, which only pushes me ever higher.

  He turns me over again, pinning my wrists. “I want to see your face while you come,” he whispers, which drives me crazy. He fucks me faster, deeper, and I know I’m not far. Sweat’s on my body now, and his hard muscles drive me wild.

  The orgasm rips through me not long later. He’s fucking me like an animal, pinning me down, licking and kissing my breasts and lips. I come hard, my legs spread wide, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t make me suck him off.

  He comes inside of me. Thick, heavy spurts, and I love it. I love the feeling of him, filling me up. I moan his name and roll my hips, helping him along, and he groans.

  He collapses onto the bed beside me, pulling me tight against him. He kisses my shoulder, breathing the smell of my hair deep.

  “That’s the best housewarming present I think I’ve ever gotten,” he says.

  I laugh and slap him a little. “Don’t be a pig.”

  He grins. “You like it. And I expect to get another present soon.”

  “How soon?” I ask, staring into his eyes, and his grin gives me all the answer I need.

  This is probably a mistake. There’s a voice in the back of my mind telling me to stop. The last time I ended up in bed with Will, I had a baby and got my heart broken. We’re just b
ecoming close again, I shouldn’t screw this up with sex.

  But he’s so handsome, and his hands are all over my body, and I know I’m saying yes.

  18

  Will

  I’m still buzzing with Addie even a few days later. I can taste her, smell her on my sheets, and I wish she were still here. I wish we could put aside the past, ignore it at least for a little while, and just have something good.

  Instead, she ran away the next day, as soon as the sun came up. I haven’t seen her since, although we’re still texting. I know she’s busy with Cara and work, and now she’s even thinking about her own place, which is awesome.

  I just want her here, at all times, with me. I want her spread, naked, begging, laughing, moaning. I know she wants that too, but something’s still holding her back.

  I’m lounging on my trash-picked couch, looking at furniture on my phone and wondering how long my bank account’s going to last without a job, when there’s a knock at my door. I hesitate a second, because I don’t even know if anyone knows I live here, but I decide to answer it anyway.

  My dad’s leaning again the wall across the hall, arms crossed over his chest. He smiles and stands up straight when I cock my head at him.

  “Hey, son,” he says.

  I frown a little bit. He never calls me that. “How’d you know I was here?”

  He flinches a little bit. “Not gonna ask me in?”

  “No, I’m not,” I say. “How’d you know.”

  “Guy who owns the building is a friend. He gave me a call when he saw your name on the lease.”

  Fucking hell, of course. My dad’s friends with every rich guy in this damn town, since he’s been spending his life selling them useless pills.

  I glare at him for a second but he sighs. “Just invite me in, I only want to talk.”

  “Fine,” I grunt, stepping aside. “Make it fast, though.”

  He walks in and glances around. “Looks good,” he says.

  “Liar.” I shut the door and follow him to the kitchen. “What can I do for you?”

  He turns to me. “Look, I came to apologize, okay? I lost it the other night. That wasn’t my best.”

  I laugh a little bitterly. “You’re apologizing?”

  “Trying to,” he snaps. “You’re not making it easy.”

  “It’s just funny, dad, that’s all. You’ve been doing this shit my whole life without a comment, and now you’re apologizing?”

  He glares at me. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You don’t?” I laugh again, shaking my head. “Then I guess I don’t know what to say to you.”

  “Look, I came here because I want you to come back to work.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Did Tim approve this?”

  He waves his hand. “Tim’s no longer with the company.”

  I sigh. “Did you fire him because of me?”

  “No, but that didn’t help,” he says. “Turns out, Tim was skimming from the drawer.”

  I whistle and shake my head. “Naughty boy, that Tim.”

  “He’s gone now. Please, Will, just come back. I want you involved with my company.”

  For a second, I can see him as the father I’ve always wanted. Kind, supportive, helpful, gentle. The sort of man that could teach me to change a tire and to be strong.

  But I know that father doesn’t exist, not for me at least. The only things my dad ever taught me were how to drink bourbon and how to sell pills. He’s a low-life, even if he’s a low-life with money, and if I go back to him that’s all I’ll ever be.

  “I can’t,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

  His face gets cloudy. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.” I walk to the door. “You should go.”

  “You’re making a mistake.” He clenches his hands into fists. “I’m here apologizing, damn it.”

  “Too little too late,” I say softly. “Now please, get out of my apartment, and don’t come back.”

  He walks over to the door, fuming, eyes wide like a scared deer. He pauses in the doorway and looks at me. “You’ll never amount to anything,” he says.

  “I already did.”

  He steps into the hall and is about to say something else, but I slam the door in his face.

  It doesn’t feel good. I thought it would. I’ve always wanted to hear my father apologize for something, and I’ve always been disappointed. Now he shows up randomly, asking me to come back to work, and I don’t feel a damn thing. Except for pity, maybe, and disgust.

  I peer out my front window and I spot him getting into his car. As I watch him, I get this weird feeling. It’s deep in my gut, and on a whim, I pull out my phone and dial Addie’s home number.

  Eleanor picks up. “Hello? Carter residence.”

  “Hi, Eleanor, it’s Will.”

  “Oh, hi, Will. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Just calling for Addie.”

  Eleanor pauses. “She’s at work.”

  I nod to myself. “Oh, really? Oh, that’s a shame.” I knew that already, though. “Do you mind if I stop by anyway?”

  Another hesitation. “I wouldn’t mind,” she says finally. “Still want that tea?”

  “Still do,” I say.

  “Okay then. See you soon.”

  I hang up the phone, go get changed, and head out to my truck.

  * * *

  The tea’s hot and delicious, just like I remembered. Eleanor sits across from me with a smile, but I can tell it’s strained.

  “I hear you got your own place,” she says. “Congratulations. That’s a big step.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “Next step is a job.”

  She laughs. “Didn’t you do this a little backward?”

  “A little,” I concede. “But here we are.”

  “Here we are,” she agrees. “Maybe now Addie will move out also.”

  “Sick of her?” I ask.

  “Oh no, never. It’s more for her sake than for mine.”

  “I bet it’s hard having Cara around all day, though,” I say cautiously.

  Eleanor shrugs. “I love having my granddaughter living here, even if I can’t keep up with her anymore.”

  “Speaking of her, where is she right now?”

  Eleanor doesn’t answer right away. I can tell she’s studying me. I watch her passively, but I think she understands what I’m doing, and I think she knows that what she says next is very, very important.

  “Do you want to see her?” she asks finally, and my heart leaps in my chest.

  “I’d like that,” I say softly.

  She nods. “Okay then. Come on. She’s out back with Julissa.”

  We get up and I follow Eleanor outside. “Julissa! Cara!” Eleanor’s voice rings out loud and clear. “We have a visitor!”

  Cara comes charging around the side of the house followed by a round woman, mid-forties with olive skin and dark, curly hair. She smiles as Cara runs up to me.

  “Will!” Cara says, and I’m surprised she remembers my name. “Play!”

  I laugh and look up at Eleanor. She just nods, a little smile on her face, and I follow Cara out into the grass.

  “Honey, don’t get dirty,” Julissa calls.

  “I’ll watch her,” I say.

  Cara makes a face at Julissa and teeters over to a grassy spot before falling down. She produces a few small dolls from pockets in her outfit and tosses them onto the ground.

  I sit down and we play together. It’s mostly just her moving the dolls around, smashing them together, and laughing. Sometimes I throw one in the air and she tries to catch it. I can feel Eleanor and Julissa watching, but I try to ignore them.

  This is the real reason I’m here. I wanted to see Cara again, without Addie around. I wanted to see if I’d feel anything, if maybe it’s really true.

  And honestly… I do feel something. I didn’t really expect to. I assumed I’d just play with her and that would be that, but sitting here with her in the grass, I keep having one tho
ught running through my mind.

  If she’s my daughter…

  “Watch,” Cara says, throwing one of her dolls high in the air. She tries to catch it, toppling over.

  I laugh. “Good try, do it again.”

  If she’s my daughter…

  She repeats this again, trying to catch it as it falls, and missing horribly again. I can tell she’s getting frustrated already.

  “You can do it,” I say. “You’re so close. Try it again.”

  If she’s my daughter…

  She throws the doll up, not quite so high this time, and manages to catch it as it comes back into her arms. She laughs with delight and I pick her up, spinning her around.

  I’m going to be a better father than my father ever was.

  It hits me like lightning, spinning this girl around. I want to be a father. I actually want to be there for her, no matter what. If she’s my daughter, I’m not going to run away from my responsibilities. If anything, I welcome them. I want to be with Addie, and I want to get to know Cara like a daughter.

  We play for another half hour before Julissa comes over. “Nap time,” she says to Cara.

  “Bye, bye,” Cara says, following Julissa without argument. I smile and wave.

  “Bye, bye,” I say.

  I stand with Eleanor on the back porch for a moment. Their back yard is huge and gorgeous, lots of thick, lush green grass dotted by hedges, flowerbeds, and outbuildings.

  “You two get along,” Eleanor says finally.

  “Yeah, we do,” I agree.

  She nods slowly. “Not afraid of that?”

  I know what she’s asking. I turn to her, meet her eye, and shake my head.

  “I’m not afraid at all.”

  “Good.” She nods again, turning back to the yard. “That’s good.”

  We stand in silence for a few more minutes before we head back inside. She walks me to the door and I leave, full of more questions, but certain of one thing:

  If Cara is my daughter, I’m going to be the father I’ve always wanted for myself.

  19