Cowboy Baby Daddy

by Claire Adams

  I was surprised at how readily she stepped back to let me in; I'd expected that I would need to persuade her to let me in. Maybe this would work after all.

  I turned to face her and then blushed a little, remembering the last time we'd been together in the hall. “Maybe it would be better if we moved into the living room,” I suggested.

  Olivia stared at me for a long moment and then nodded, leading the way.

  We sat down together on the couch. “I want you to come away with me for the weekend,” I told her. When she looked as though she might protest, I held up a hand. “Hear me out,” I pleaded.

  She continued to stare at me, but I just paused, waiting for her to answer me. “Okay,” she finally agreed.

  I nodded at her. “I want you to come away with me for the weekend,” I repeated. “I think it would do you good to get away from here. Maybe it would clear your head a little so that you could think about this. About the possibility of an us. I want to take you someplace nice, someplace really relaxing.” I paused, and when she didn't say anything, I forged ahead. “You can't make up your mind about if you want to be with me or not unless you know what it would be like,” I told her. “And I haven't done a very good job of showing you that, thus far.”

  I couldn't tell what she was thinking, from looking at her face. But she at least seemed to be considering the idea.

  “Plus, it would give us a chance just to try this out,” I said quietly. “Emma is fine staying Christina for the weekend.” When her eyes widened, I hurried to explain: “I didn't tell Christina why. I think she thinks it's something to do with Helen. But I wanted to make sure that she was okay with it before I even proposed this.” I shook my head. “Separate rooms and everything. No pressure. But I really would like to pamper you a little. I can only imagine how difficult things have been for you lately. And you are, after all, the mother of my unborn child.”

  Olivia frowned, twisting her fingers together just like she had when I'd told her all about Georgia's meddling. “What if I say no?” she asked.

  I shrugged as though the thought of her declining didn't worry me, even though really, I could hardly even consider her rejection. “If you don't want to go with me, I'll understand,” I said. “I'm still going to urge you to go anyway, on your own. Like I said, you deserve to be pampered. And if it means that at a later date, you want to try this thing between us, I'll still be very happy. If it means that you never want to be with me, that you can't be with me after the things that I said to you, then I'll understand that.”

  “You're just doing this because you feel guilty, aren't you?” Olivia asked, but I was pleased to see a small smile on her face.

  I laughed. “A little bit, maybe,” I admitted. “Is that all right?”

  “Are you sure this is the best idea?” Olivia asked uncertainly. “You may not have told Christina why you needed her to watch Emma for the weekend, but aren't people going to realize that you and I have disappeared at the same time? They'll leap to conclusions. You know they will.”

  “I don't care if you don't,” I told her instantly. Olivia's eyes widened a little at that. I shook my head. “My mourning period is over,” I said softly. “I'll always love Emily in some part of my being. She gave me a beautiful daughter in Emma, and she made me so happy for many years. But that doesn't mean that I can't move on, and it isn't going to stop me from being friends with my new baby's mom, if that's okay with you.”

  Olivia continued to think it over. Finally, she nodded. “All right,” she said. “I'll go with you. But just as friends, for now. I still need to think things over.”

  “Of course,” I said gently, pulling her into my arms and hoping that that was okay. To my relief, she wrapped her arms around me, burying her face against my shirt. I could feel her relaxing in my arms, and I could only imagine what a good masseuse could do for her.

  “When do we leave?” she asked.

  “As soon as you're packed,” I told her. “Our reservations are for tonight and tomorrow night. I've got a full day of relaxing spa appointments booked for you tomorrow.”

  Olivia looked at me, wonder in her eyes. For the first time in a while, I saw a real smile spread across her face. “Thank you,” she said. “I'll go get packed.”

  “I'll see you in half an hour,” I promised. “Unless you need more time?”

  “That should be fine,” Olivia said, sounding almost shy.

  From the time we checked into our rooms until lunchtime the following day, I didn't see Olivia, except once in passing, in the hallway. As promised, I had a full schedule of relaxing activities for her. Besides, I wanted to give her a little space to think things over. But on Saturday at lunchtime, I grabbed the picnic lunch that I had arranged for and went to meet her outside her massage appointment.

  She looked sleepy and calm when she came out of it. She smiled at me when she saw me waiting there. “What's next on the agenda?” she asked, rolling her shoulders a little.

  I held up the picnic basket. “Lunch,” I told her. “Come on.”

  I led her up to a scenic, secluded spot that the receptionist at the B&B had recommended. “How are you feeling?” I asked as we sat down on the checkered blanket that I had spread out.

  “Really good, actually,” she admitted, glancing over at me. “This was a good decision. Thanks again.”

  “I'm glad it's helping,” I said, taking things out of the bag.

  She tucked in ravenously, and I gave myself a mental pat on the back, knowing that this was likely the most she'd managed to eat in a while. It made me regret the fact that we had to go back to reality the following day, but I couldn't leave Emma with Christina forever, as much as I'd like to stay here forever in this little bubble of camaraderie that Olivia and I seemed to have finally found.

  “I am sorry that I didn't react better to the news that you were pregnant,” I told her midway through the meal, unable to hold back any longer. “And for the scene at the hospital. I shouldn't have said the things that I said.”

  “You were upset about the cancer,” Olivia said, picking at her sandwich. She glanced over at me. “I imagine it must have brought back memories.”

  “It did,” I admitted. “But I shouldn't have taken them out on you. That wasn't fair, and especially not when I really did know that you were trying your best. Jeannie was just very stubborn.”

  I wasn't sure that it was the right thing to say, but Olivia managed a small smile. “She was,” she agreed. “I take after her in that, you know.”

  “I'd noticed,” I told her dryly. “But fortunately, your persistence is a lot more endearing than Georgia's.”

  We were both quiet for a moment. “I want to start again,” I told her, surprising even myself with the raw note in my voice. “I promise that I'll trust you. But I don't want to pressure you to make decisions just to suit me. Just because I think that we're right for one another.”

  Olivia stared at me, looking shocked. “You think we're right for each other?” she asked.

  I nodded gravely. It was my turn to look away from her. “To be honest, I never wanted something casual with you; I was always interested in something more. I was just scared. When you said that thing about not putting labels on it, I was quick to agree because I thought that was the only way that I was going to continue to have you in my life. But it wasn't what I wanted.”

  I gave a short laugh. “And when I thought that you were sleeping with Buck, trust me, I was kicking myself at not having asked for more. It felt horrible. The only thing that kept me from punching him was the knowledge that you definitely wouldn't appreciate that, whatever the situation was. Probably wouldn't have looked too good around the town, either.” I gave a rueful smile, but Olivia didn't return it, seemingly lost in her thoughts.

  “What's changed?” Olivia asked suddenly. “I understand that Buck told you the truth at the funeral, but that wasn't the only thing standing between us. You practically avoided me after we slept together. Are you just interest
ed in pursuing a relationship now because you know that I'm pregnant? Because if so, I'm afraid that this won't work.”

  I appreciated how frank she was being, and I tried to find a way to describe that change of heart so that she might understand it. “I think both of them, my wife and your mother, would have wanted this,” I added. “Emily always just wanted me to be happy. I've mourned her for long enough, but it's not doing Emma or I any favors, my holding the world at arm's length.”

  Olivia nodded slowly. “My mother would have wanted it too,” she said softly. “She gave me this whole spiel about how she was sure that I would make a great single parent, and about how well things had turned out for her and me, despite my dad never being in the picture. But deep down, I think that she would have wanted us to be together. To raise this daughter together.”

  I frowned at her. “You're sure it's a daughter?” I asked.

  “I don't have proof yet,” Olivia said, looking startled. She shrugged. “It's just easier to think of it as a 'she,' rather than an 'it.' And I'll be perfectly happy to have a boy, too. I don't know, it just feels right, calling it my daughter.”

  “Our daughter,” I said, and Olivia smiled at me. “I want to be in her life, whether you and I end up together or not,” I told her seriously. “And I don't just mean that I'll pay for diapers and child support.”

  Olivia nodded. “I want you to be in the child's life, if you want to be,” she whispered.

  “And I promise to try to be more respectful of your decisions,” I continued, unable to leave things at such a vague conclusion. I grimaced. “I have a bad habit of thinking, as a doctor, that I know what's best for people, all the time,” I admitted.

  “I'd noticed that about you,” Olivia said, echoing my earlier words.

  I smiled at her. “I promise to be better this time,” I said softly. “Whether that means that we're just friends or something more. But that's the last thing that I'm going to say. I'll let you think things over.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Olivia

  It was hard not to be moved by all the nice things that Eric was saying. I had to admit that I was still a little worried about where things would lead. It sounded like he wanted to be involved with the baby, as well as with me, and I had to take that at face value, especially when he'd taken me on such a wonderful, relaxing weekend retreat.

  The place was gorgeous, and after a week of horrible, crushing sadness, I was starting to finally come to terms with Mom's passing. That didn't mean that I was feeling 100% okay again or that I was ready to jump into things with Eric, but I was seriously considering everything that he had promised.

  The thing was, deep down, I knew that Eric was a good guy. I could tell that he cared about me. And I still couldn't deny that I loved him. We might have had our disagreements, but he had still been there for me when I needed him, and I could trust in that if nothing else.

  And ever since he had come over the previous day, I hadn't been able to stop picturing starting this family with him. I could picture Eric by my side during the pregnancy, and Emma playing dress up with her future sister. I could picture holidays together, and birthdays. I could even picture visiting Mom's grave with Eric by my side, lending silent support, just like I would when he wanted to visit Emily's grave.

  What's more, I was surprised at how easy it was to picture all of that. Like he had said today, it felt like we were right for one another.

  As I'd told him, I was pretty sure this was what Mom would have wanted, too. I didn't want to make the decision just because Mom had tried matchmaking the two of us, but that had some weight on my decision as well. Mom wouldn't have gone on and on about what a looker he was if she hadn't thought that he was a good guy as well, and her opinion meant a lot to me.

  I was afraid to rush into anything, but at the same time, this didn't exactly feel like we were rushing into anything. Maybe we had at first, but now we'd taken some time apart. I still didn't know all the details about his life, but I knew the important ones, and he knew important things about me. What's more, I knew that we understood one another, with that shared experience of losing loved ones to cancer.

  As we walked back to the bed and breakfast, I slipped my hand into his. Eric smiled down at me but didn't comment.

  “I didn't schedule anything for the afternoon,” Eric informed me as we neared my room. “I figured that you might want to try to take a nap, once you were good and relaxed. But if not, you could relax in the hot tub or the sauna for a little while. Or I'm sure we could talk to the front desk and see if they could book you for another massage.”

  “A nap actually sounds like a really good idea,” I told him honestly.

  We lingered outside the door to my room, and I could tell that we each wanted to say something more but weren't sure what. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and I stood up on my tiptoes, grabbing his collar so that I could pull him into a messy kiss.

  When I pulled back, Eric seemed surprised. And hesitant. I didn't like that look in his eyes, the one that told me he was about to push me away.

  I wondered how I could have read things so wrong. It had seemed like he was finally ready to be in a relationship with me. But had he only been saying that because he had thought that was what I had wanted? Or had he thought that he had wanted it, only to realize now that he didn't actually?

  Sure enough, he took a step back, and it was all I could do not to burst into tears.

  “Hey,” Eric said, reaching out and tapping my chin with his index finger so that I would look up at him. I couldn't quite meet his eyes. “Oh, honey,” Eric said, folding me into his arms.

  I struggled against him, not wanting to feel his pity, not over this.

  “Olivia, please,” he said, sounding desperate. “I'm sorry, you just took me by surprise, that's all. I didn't realize that you had already made a decision, and I didn't want you to do anything that you would regret.”

  I stilled against him, pulling back so that I could peek up at him. “Why would I regret this?” I asked him.

  Eric scratched the back of his neck, looking rueful. “Well, I'd hope you wouldn't,” he said honestly.

  “I want this,” I admitted hoarsely. “I've wanted this.” I bit my tongue to keep from admitting how much I loved him. I shook my head. “Things have been crazy lately, but you've been there for me when I needed you the most,” I pointed out. “And this weekend, this is exactly what I needed, and somehow you knew that.”

  Eric smiled softly at me. “Does that mean we're going to label things this time?” he asked teasingly. “Because I'm not sure what I would do if you said we were just casual again.”

  “We can label it,” I said, feeling a swooping feeling in my gut as I even considered it: Eric, my boyfriend. I smiled at the very thought.

  “Good,” Eric said. He continued to linger there, and I rolled my eyes.

  “Come on inside,” I said, opening the door and pushing him in.

  “Are you sure?” Eric asked seriously as I started unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Please,” I said, my voice already sounding raw and fucked-out.

  Eric's eyes went dark, and he stepped away so that he could strip himself down, his nimble fingers making quick work of the buttons. I gave myself a belated shake and hurriedly stripped down as well.

  I wanted to take my time with this, to show him how much I appreciated everything that we had gone through, how much I was looking forward to our future together. But at the same time, I was desperate to have him inside me already, practically dripping into my quickly-shed panties.

  I sprawled out on the bed, watching as he moved toward me with catlike grace. I couldn't help sliding my hand between my legs, playing with myself a little as I waited for him.

  Eric made a soft, punched-out noise as he watched me, interest written all over his face. “God, that's sexy,” he told me as he crawled in between my legs. He bent down to press a soft kiss to my lips and then moved lower, kissing my belly, h
is meaning clear. Then, he moved his lips down to the space that I'd previously been exploring with my fingertips.

  I gasped, unable to help myself. “Eric,” I groaned as his tongue flicked out, playing over my clit. He sucked and laved at me, leaving no part of my folds untouched. Then, his fingers came up to gently explore as well, playing through my wetness, making me cry out with pleasure.

  “You like that, do you?” Eric asked, grinning wickedly up at me.

  “Please,” I begged, not even sure what I was asking for. On the one hand, I didn't want him to stop what he was doing; one the other hand, I wanted desperately for him to slide inside me, to fill me up as only he could manage.

  Fortunately, it seemed like Eric was intent on giving me the best of both of those options. He continued to use his mouth against me until I was helplessly consumed with pleasure, twisting against the sheets. Then, before I'd even had a chance to come down from that orgasm, he repositioned himself and thrust inside of me in one smooth movement.

  I really hoped the walls were soundproof, because I was sure the whole B&B could hear me cry out as he breached me. I was breathless with sensation, utterly overcome, my feelings from the past weeks cascading over me, making everything that much more intense.

  There was sadness, for sure. It seemed like we might just be able to forge something beautiful, the two of us together.

  I urged him on with my heels, pulling him into me, rocking into my thrusts. My fingers couldn't get enough of his skin, and when he lowered himself down onto his elbows, changing up the angle so that he could get deeper inside of me, I leaned up to press open-mouthed kisses to his neck and collarbone.

  As though taking that as a hint, Eric bent down further, pressing his mouth to my skin, biting a mark into it. Like he was finally, finally ready to tell the world that I was his.

  I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes, and Eric seemed to sense them, pulling back so that he could stare down at me, his eyes full of wonder. His hand came up to caress my cheek, and he kissed me again, his lips so soft. They were a perfect counterpoint to the almost violent thrusts that he was still using to rock my body.