A Baby for the Officer: Boys of Rockford #1

by Henley Maverick

  But would it be enough in court?

  Or would the judge dismiss their eyewitness accounts as sentimentality and nostalgia over their local sheriff. I desperately hoped I could give an account, but I knew they probably wouldn’t call on me because I would be too biased a witness.

  I’d have to be batshit crazy to testify against my employer.

  So, that left us with finding a loophole. It had to be a good one too, something they couldn’t toss out immediately. I sighed as I ran my hands through my hair and spread the papers out before me. I hopped onto the high chair and began to chew on my bottom lip in concertation.

  I stood up suddenly as I realized I needed a pencil and a piece of paper. I rummaged around till I found one, then went back to my earlier position. I poured over the documents, writing down notes in the hopes that I would find something.

  An hour later, my neck muscles were screaming from hunching over the papers, and I needed to check on Emily. I sighed as I stood up and began to work on the kinks in my neck, when my eyes fell on something.

  I thought I may have finally found what I needed.

  One of the major problems cited was the fact that Clay was unmarried. Most courthouses ruled in favor of the mother, and if there was a maternal figure in Emily’s life on Clay’s side, then they might be more lenient.

  All I had to do was marry Clay.

  It’s strange - I never pictured planning my wedding to a man who was about to lose custody of his daughter while standing in the middle of a kitchen. And in my twenties, no less.

  Go figure.

  Life had a strange sense of humor sometimes.

  It was worth a shot, though.

  I went to check on Emily, who was still sound asleep and needed no changing, which was good. I entered the living room and sat on the edge of the couch, nervously tapping my fingers against my thighs as I waited for Clay to come back from his run.

  I really hoped he took this the right way because there was no other way that I could help. I sank back into the couch, picked up the remote, and aimlessly flipped through the channels, unable to focus as my eyes kept sliding towards the door.

  Finally, the door clicked open, and Clay emerged drenched in sweat with his tank top clinging to his fit form. I swallowed and tried to keep my eyes on his face as he shut the door behind him.

  “Hey, I was expecting you to still be in bed,” he said, surprise in his tone. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I just checked on Emily, and she’s sleeping. I’m also fine, don’t worry,” I assured him as he bent down and placed a quick kiss on my lips.

  I almost toppled over as my mouth broke out into a grin.

  “Then why do you have that look on your face? I’m going to call it a teacher look. It’s that look when you’ve just discovered a solution to a problem, and your eyes go all comically wide,” he teased as he plopped down onto the couch next to me and gulped down some ice cold water.

  I watched him chug it down. “It’s not a teacher look.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, whatever you say.”

  “Whatever. Anyway, I was thinking about your problem with the Windsors—” I began. Clay groaned as he placed both arms on either side of the couch.

  “Lyla, do we have to talk about this now? Our morning was off to a rocky start but then it got better. Let’s not ruin that,” he pleaded.

  “I’m not trying to ruin it,” I protested as I gestured towards the papers. “I was going through the papers and—”

  “There you go. Bringing it up qualifies as ruining it, Lyla.” He rolled his eyes good naturedly as he brought me closer to his side and buried his face in my hair.

  “Mmm, you smell good,” he commented.

  I wrapped my arms around him instinctively, and my body fitted itself to his as if we were two pieces of a puzzle. “Thanks.”

  He smelled good too. Even though sweat was glistening off his body, it was just the right amount to make my hormones sit up and pay attention.

  He lowered his head, so it was right above my pulse point, and he began to run his tongue along my collarbone. I shuddered as I climbed onto his lap and threw my head back, forgetting for a moment what I was supposed to be talking to him about.

  He ran his mouth over my shoulders, down my arms and back up leaving a trail of heat in his wake.

  “Clay,” I murmured.

  “Hmm?” he asked.

  “You’re distracting me,” I complained as I tried to clear the haze in my head.

  “See, you say that I am, but you’re responding,” he pointed out, cheekily. I slapped his arm away and gave him a pointed look. He withdrew his arms and held them up in surrender.

  “Alright, alright. I’m listening,” he conceded as I climbed off him and stood up, trying to get my racing heart under control.

  He brought the bottle up to his lips and watched me.

  “Marry me.”

  Water came spewing forth out of his nostrils and his mouth as he hacked and coughed. I moved towards him and began to pound on his back vigorously.

  “I know I’m not that good in bed,” he said finally, his dark eyes alight with amusement.

  “I do care about you, Clay, but it’s not like that. It’s about Emily.”

  He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Go on.”

  “One of the main objections the Windsors have is that you are unmarried, so if we take away that point then the rest is subjective, right?”

  Clay scratched the back of his neck. “I guess so.”

  “Okay, so based on that, let’s assume that if you get married you look like a more competent parent which is stupid, but hey, I didn’t make the rules,” Lyla clarified.

  “Okay?”

  “What if we get married?”

  Clay blinked. “You want to be my bride?”

  I threw my head back and laughed. “In a sense, yes.”

  “I mean, not that you wouldn’t make a good bride, Lyla. You’d make a great one, but I don’t want to drag you into this.”

  “I love Emily too, Clay. Besides, I’m offering. We’ll get married, fight the Windsors in court, and when we win, and you have permanent custody of Emily, we’ll get a quiet divorce.”

  Clay’s face grew more and more animated as I spoke, his eyes beginning to shine with hope.

  “Do you really think this will work?”

  “I mean, you’d have to discuss the legalities with your lawyer, but it gives you a better chance,” I said, with more confidence than I actually felt.

  Clay leapt to his feet, swept me in his arms and kissed me soundly.

  “It’s a fabulous idea!”

  12

  Clay

  I couldn’t believe it.

  Here I was, a self-confirmed bachelor signing on the dotted line to officially announce the end of my bachelorhood.

  It was strange how I never pictured my wedding going quite like this.

  Not that I pictured it at all.

  If I were being completely honest, I always thought it would be better and easier to lead a life of solitude. Lyla stood next to me, wearing a simple knee length wedding dress that exposed her creamy shoulders, her hair piled up on top of her head.

  She looked beautiful, and I felt a quick pang of guilt at not only having taken her virginity, but I was also taking away another first.

  Her first husband.

  Not many got to say that, but here we were. Lyla bent over the paper, a wisp of hair falling from her head and framing her face as she took her bottom lip between her teeth and signed the document. I peaked over her shoulder curiously and got a good look at her cleavage.

  I coughed awkwardly as I immediately snapped backwards, not wanting that to be the first thing that happens right after we get married. After all, this wasn’t a traditional marriage.

  It was a marriage of convenience on both our parts. Sure, we liked each other, but we weren’t under any illusions as to why this was happening. We were both going into this
with our eyes wide open. Most newlyweds couldn’t claim that.

  * * *

  Lyla straightened her back and gave the judge a small smile as she tucked her arm into my elbow, giving off the illusion of marital bliss. I took her hand in mine and placed a soft kiss atop her knuckles, which earned me a blush in return.

  I grinned as I turned my attention back to the judge who was gazing at us fondly.

  And that was it.

  We were officially husband and wife. Our footsteps echoed through the hall as we passed other couples; some dewy eyed, but most giddy at the prospect of forever.

  “Are you sure this is—” I began. Lyla untucked her arm from the crook of my elbow and placed her finger atop my lips.

  Her blue eyes were sparkling with an emotion I couldn’t quite place. “Stop asking me that.”

  I parted my lips and nipped her finger. When she tried to yank it back, I brought it back to my lips and placed a quick kiss there.

  She gave me a tender smile in return before she awkwardly looked away. I adjusted the tie on my suit, suddenly feeling like it was unbearably hot in the courthouse.

  I offered her my arm. “Shall we, Mrs. Baker?”

  Lyla laughed. “We shall. Ready to throw a wicked curveball their way?”

  I nodded and clapped my hands eagerly. “I’m more than ready.”

  We shared one last look before we headed across the building to the family services division. Once we pushed open the double doors, a blast of cold air hit our faces. I crinkled my nose, and Lyla instinctively curled into my side. I wrapped my arms around her as I lead her to the front desk.

  “Can I help you?” asked the lady at the reception desk, a woman in her late 30s with dark hair and big spectacles who eyed us with amusement.

  “Yes, we’d like to file a countersuit,” I stated as I intertwined my fingers with Lyla’s, liking the feeling of warmth that seeped between us.

  The lady bobbed her head as she rummaged around and produced a piece of paper. “Do you know how to file?”

  “Yes, don’t worry,” I assured her. “My wife and I know exactly what to do.”

  I was surprised by how easily the title rolled off my tongue. Like I was meant to be saying it. I shook off the thought as I picked up the pen and signed on the dotted line.

  When I passed Lyla the pen, her gold band shone underneath the fluorescent lights, and I was struck by how much it suited her. My eyes traveled down to my own ring, and I realized how much I liked it on my hand too.

  Odd, considering it was a fake marriage.

  Lyla handed the lady the papers back with a smile, and I wrapped my hands around her waist while she lay her head on my shoulder.

  “Let’s go home,” she whispered.

  I stopped on the steps of the courthouse and glanced around. “Are you sure? Lyla, I know what a big thing this is, and I know you’ve already assured me that you know what you’re doing, but I’m not going to deprive you of an outing on your wedding day if you want it. It’s the least I can do.”

  Lyla grinned. “What exactly would we do in these clothes anyways?”

  “Well, you look great. I look like a monkey in a suit.” I waggled my eyebrows, which earned me a laugh and an elbow shove.

  “No, it’s okay. I’m tired, and I’m sure Mrs. Barrett will want to go home,” she said as she reached on her tiptoes and placed a soft kiss on my cheeks. She let her lips linger and I felt her hot breath dance across my cheeks. I inhaled deeply as her floral scent hit my nostrils.

  My hands tightened on her waist, and she smiled as she pulled back and dragged me along.

  “Mrs. Barrett, we’re home,” I called out as I took the key out of the lock and entered the house.

  “I’m in here, dears,” her quiet voice responded from the living room. Once we entered, we saw Mrs. Barrett, a kindly woman who was in her late 30s or early 40s, with dark hair and light eyes.

  She’d set up the play pen, and Emily was delightedly examining her toys and Mrs. Barrett with equal fascination. Emily had taken to Mrs. Barrett quite quickly, and we were relieved.

  Lyla immediately dropped to the floor and began making faces at Emily who crawled towards her at lightning speed then frowned when she got there. She stared up at Lyla with big blue orbs and tilted her head curiously to the side.

  Mrs. Barrett stood up, dusted off her pants and laughed heartily. “I think she’s confused.”

  “About what?”

  “Honey, you’ve got make-up on, and your hair is up. She’s probably just trying to see if she recognizes you,” Mrs. Barrett said kindly, as she stepped out of the play pen and stood off to the side.

  “It’s still me, Emily,” Lyla said softly, as she took out her pins, allowing her hair to tumble down her back, bathing her in a halo of gold that left me momentarily stunned.

  I’d never seen anything so beautiful in my entire life. I leaned back against the wall, propped one leg up, and watched them together.

  Emily’s eyes lit up in delight once Lyla let her hair down, and she lifted her arms, eager to be picked up. Lyla chuckled as she lifted her and rocked her while humming under her breath.

  “Thanks again, Mrs. Barrett,” I said sincerely, as I walked her to the door and paid her. She nodded, bid me a good night with a warm smile, then went on her way.

  * * *

  Lyla was still rocking Emily back and forth, and Emily gave me a big toothy grin when I entered the room. I made a silly face at her, and she yawned sleepily and placed her hand under her mouth.

  “Alright, sleepy head. Time for your nap,” Lyla announced as she headed towards Emily’s room. She changed Emily’s diaper and put her to sleep. She drifted off within seconds, and we both plopped onto the couch.

  “We did it,” I whispered as I threw the tie next to me and unbuttoned the first few buttons of my shirt.

  “Yes, we did,” Lyla agreed, happily as she leaned into my side. She stretched her arms and stood up.

  “Where are you going?” I asked, confused.

  “I’m going to change out of my wedding dress,” she said, matter-of-factly. I tugged on her hand causing her to topple down next to me.

  “No, you aren’t. This is our wedding night, and you deserve to have your dress peeled off you, bridal style,” I responded as I tilted her chin up and pressed my lips to hers. She responded eagerly and threw her legs on either side of me, so she was straddling me.

  My hands traveled to her back as I slowly unzipped her dress, revealing the racy red lingerie she had on underneath. She stood up, kicked off the dress and helped me out of my dress pants as I unbuttoned my shirt.

  She crouched forward, hooked her thumbs around my boxers and yanked my boxers down swiftly.

  She placed her hands on my chest, playing around with my chest hair before she pressed her mouth to my chest. She lightly ran the edge of her tongue along my bare skin causing me to grip her tighter.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, my voice dropping an octave lower as it rang with barely concealed desire.

  “I do believe, Mr. Baker that we have some unfinished business,” she said as she nimbly nipped the skin.

  “Oh?” My head fell back against the couch, and I knew I was completely at her mercy, so she let her hands travel down between my legs where she cupped me. She kept her eyes on my face to gauge my reaction as she began to massage my balls.

  My soft member began to grow harder. She slipped off the couch and pushed my legs open as she pressed her head on my stomach and gazed up at me.

  My head snapped forward, my eyes consuming her with my desire. My lips parted slightly as she used the tip of her finger to trace the outline of my mouth before she ran it down my chest.

  She leaned forward, pressing the upper half of her body against mine as she let her mouth connect with mine. I stayed very still as our mouths joined, neither of us daring to move as we breathed in unison.

  She drew my bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it. When I leaned fo
rward for another kiss, she leaned back, smirked and let herself slide back down between my legs. She wrapped her hand around me firmly and began to pump up and down until I gritted my teeth and a whoosh escaped my lips.

  My eyes rolled back in my head, one hand tangled in her hair while the other fondled her breasts, flicking the nipple roughly. She used the other hand to simultaneously rub my balls, causing a dual sensation of pleasure to course through me.

  My breathing came out in short grunts, and my hips lifted slightly off the couch as if I was trying to get more. I could smell her desire, and it made me ache to be all the way inside of her, but I could tell she wasn’t done with me yet.

  She removed her hands suddenly, and my eyes flew open. They were hazy and unfocused as they landed on her, a slight frown marring my features.

  I watched as she lowered her head and used the edge of her tongue to make patterns atop my shaft. My eyes bulged in my head as her hands desperately ran across my back, down my hips and back up to my chest.

  Beads of sweat began to roll down my chest and a deep throaty growl escaped my mouth. She opened her mouth further and took me all the way till I hit the back of her throat. Once that happened, she began to move her mouth up then down while swirling her tongue for extra effect.

  The result was instantaneous.

  I pushed myself in even further, and my hands began to claw at her back as I made guttural noises, completely lost in the sensations she was giving me. She drew her mouth away then back a few times until my breathing came in short pants.

  “God, Lyla. You’re so fucking hot,” I moaned. “Yes, baby. Keep doing that.”

  Once she felt I was close, she began to fondle my balls until I came with a shout, my member pulsing as my cum oozed out.

  Her eyes locked with mine as she swallowed it all. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she gave me a slight smirk. My chest was heaving with effort as I glanced at her blearily.

  “How did you learn how to do that?” I asked, hoarsely.