Cowboy Baby Daddy

by Claire Adams

  “Where in the hell did you learn to do that?” I asked, as I examined the effect in the bathroom mirror.

  “Gramps taught me,” she grinned. “He was pretty sure you’d never remember how to do it yourself.”

  “Why, you sassy little—” I exclaimed, as Nina danced out of reach. I turned back to the mirror and ran a hand over my closely cropped hair and then over my freshly shaved face, wondering if I should have left the scruff.

  “No, you were right to shave, Dad,” Nina nodded.

  “Are you eavesdropping on my conversation with myself?” I asked.

  “No, it’s just obvious that you’re nervous and I wanted to reassure you that you were right in shaving,” she grinned. I chuckled as I shook my head in disbelief. Nina continued, “Okay, now there are a few rules about this dating thing. You need to make sure that you stay away from the inflammatory topics, like politics or religion. You should ask her questions and then listen carefully. Don’t spend your time lost in your head thinking about how you’re going to respond.”

  “What in the hell is this?” I asked. “You think you can tell me about how to go on a date? I was doing this long before you were a gleam in my eye, little girl!”

  “Oh my God, Dad!” Nina protested. “I’m trying to help you here! You haven’t dated in almost 20 years; that’s a lifetime! Things have changed!”

  “And you would know this because…” I asked.

  “You are so difficult sometimes,” Nina said, rolling her eyes in disgust.

  “Lights out by 10, young lady,” I warned, as I grabbed my keys off the counter and stuffed my wallet in my back pocket before pulling on my parka.

  “Right, like you’re going to be here to monitor that,” Nina said, rolling her eyes again. She reached into the fridge and pulled something out before walking over and handing a bouquet of fresh flowers to me. “Women like flowers. Just saying.”

  I laughed as kissed her head and took the bouquet from her then headed out to the truck. It wasn’t a long drive to Emily’s, and before I knew it, I was pulling up in front of where she was staying. The lights were on, and I got a warm feeling as I rang the doorbell.

  “Hi, Emily—oh wow,” I exhaled, as she pulled the door open and I saw that she was wearing a form-fitting knit dress that clung to her like a second skin. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail and her blue eyes shined as she smiled at me.

  “C’mon in, Blake,” she said. “I’m glad you made it.”

  “You look amazing,” I said, as I stepped into the entryway and wiped my feet. I stood there staring at her, unable to speak.

  “Are those for me?” she asked, looking down at the bouquet in my hands.

  “Oh, yeah, they are,” I said, holding the flowers out as a grin spread across my lips. Emily laughed warmly as she took the flowers and walked into the kitchen. I stared as she walked away and then shook my head as I cleared my throat. I looked over and noticed the fat tabby cat sitting on the edge of the only armchair in the living room. “I see your boy is doing well.”

  “Thanks to you!” Emily called from the kitchen. “He’s healing up nicely, and the vet says there shouldn’t be any lasting damage to his lungs.”

  “That’s great,” I said, as the cat stared at me without blinking. I got the feeling that he was sizing me up, and for some reason, I felt compelled to say, “Hey, buddy, don’t you remember me?”

  The cat blinked once, nonplussed, and then jumped down off the chair and strolled into the kitchen. He had quite a personality.

  I’d decided to take Emily to Flank, an American steakhouse that was known far and wide for its incredibly delicious steaks as well as its intimate dining room. I handed off the truck keys to the valet and led Emily inside, where we were led through the mahogany-walled dining room that was decorated in the style of a 1920’s speakeasy. The crystal chandeliers gave off a warm light, and once we were seated in the circular, leather-covered booth, it felt like we were the only two people in the dining room.

  “This is lovely,” Emily whispered, after the waiter had handed us large, leather-bound menus and taken our drink orders. “I’ve always wanted to come here, but I’ve never actually done it.”

  “I’m glad I could be the one to bring you here,” I smiled, as I looked into her eyes and felt the blood rushing away from my brain. I quickly looked down at my menu and asked, “So, what looks good to you?”

  “I’m going to have the Caesar salad and the Filet Mignon,” she said, setting her menu down on the table.

  “Thank goodness,” I said. “Because I’m having the carpaccio and the New York strip, and I can’t stand it when I have to watch my dinner companion pick at a salad while I chow down!”

  “Are you kidding? If there’s steak on the menu, I’m ready to chow down,” she laughed, as the server returned with our drinks. We placed our orders and then raised our glasses to toast.

  “While I’m sorry your house burned down, I’m not sorry I got the chance to get to know you better as a result,” I offered.

  “I guess there is a silver lining to every black cloud,” Emily smiled, as she clinked her glass against mine then took a sip.

  Over dinner, we got to know one another better, and I discovered that Emily had a deep, abiding love for the Boston Celtics. She talked about how she’d begun following the team when she was in college, and how it had given her a way to calm her brain after long days of classes and studying. I told her about how I felt the same way about the fire department’s various sports teams, and how they’d given me a way to release the stress that built up while fighting fires.

  “How long have you been divorced from Nina’s mother?” she asked, after our dinner dishes had been cleared and our dessert orders taken.

  “Uh, a little more than two years,” I said, shifting uncomfortably on my side of the booth. Brining Remy into the conversation made me uneasy for many reasons, not the least of which was the possibility that Emily would decide I wasn’t a good risk.

  “How long were you married?” she asked. I studied her carefully, but she seemed relaxed rather than on the offensive, so I relaxed, too.

  “Sixteen years,” I replied. “But we were together for a few years before that. She was my high school sweetheart.”

  “Ah, I see,” Emily nodded. “Was it an amicable breakup?”

  “Hmm, I guess you’d have to ask Remy about that one,” I said dryly. “By the time we split up, we both wanted out. I think we just grew in different directions and couldn’t find a way back to the middle.”

  “Yeah, that happens,” she nodded.

  “What about you?” I asked. “Have you been married?”

  “Oh gosh, no!” she laughed, but stopped when she saw I was serious. “I’m sorry, the thought of me being married is just…funny. I’m not sure I’m cut out for that kind of arrangement.”

  “Why do you say that?” I asked, wondering what had happened to her that had put her off the idea of marriage.

  “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “It’s just never been something I thought could work for me. Or at least not the versions I’ve seen.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Emily clammed up as the server returned with our coffee and dessert, and by the time we were alone again, I could feel the mood had shifted. I thought about trying to pick up the conversation where we’d left off, but Emily had moved in a different direction, so I let it go.

  “How did you get interested in firefighting?” she asked. “I mean, your parents are academics, so it would seem logical that you’d follow them into teaching or something, right?”

  “Yeah, that makes sense, but the bottom line was that they always saw themselves as public servants,” I said, trying to explain my parents’ life philosophy. “They told Brian and me that no matter what we decided to do, we had the responsibility to leave the world we live in better shape than we’d found it. That message always resonated with me, so when I realized I wasn’t as interested in book
learning as I was in getting out there and doing more physical things, I chose the fire department.”

  “Why not the police force?” she asked.

  “My mother forbid it,” I laughed. “She said she could handle knowing that I was running into burning buildings to rescue people, but she couldn’t live with me carrying a gun every day at work.”

  “That seems…” Emily began.

  “Yeah, it seems crazy, doesn’t it?” I laughed.

  “No, actually, I kind of understand her reasoning,” she said. “I’m not sure I agree with it, but I can see how a mother might think that way about her child.”

  “I don’t think I was cut out for police work, anyway,” I admitted. “I don’t have the patience to do what they do on a daily basis.”

  “But you do have the patience to sit around a firehouse all day and night waiting for something to burn down?” she teased. I could see a smile forming at the edge of her full lips, and at that moment I wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss her.

  “Hey, we do important things like community outreach and…” I hesitated as I searched for something else we did that felt substantial. “And we cook!”

  Emily burst out laughing, and I quickly followed suit. As she laughed, she reached out and touched my hand, and I felt a jolt of electricity pass between us. Emily must have felt it too, because she stopped laughing and gave me a surprised look. The relaxed atmosphere surrounding us suddenly felt charged, and I knew she felt it, too.

  “You ready to go?” I asked, hoping that I wasn’t reading her expression wrong.

  “Uh-huh,” she nodded, as she held my gaze. I quickly signaled the server for the bill as Emily excused herself and went to the ladies’ room. By the time she returned, I’d gathered our coats and helped her into hers. As we walked out to the valet, Emily slipped her hand into mine and squeezed it tightly. I said nothing as I returned the squeeze.

  We held hands on the drive home, but neither of us said a word. I wasn’t sure what was going on in her mind, but I knew that I’d kick myself later if I spoke and ruined the mood. I could feel the tension between us, but I wasn’t sure if it was the right time to bring it up.

  I walked Emily to her door, and as I opened my mouth to tell her what a great time I’d had, she reached up, wrapped her arms around my neck, and pulled me down so that she could kiss me. The warmth of her lips pressed against mine set every one of my nerves tingling, and when she pulled back and said, “Want to come inside?” all I could do was nod.

  Chapter Twenty

  Emily

  As Blake nodded his response, I grabbed his hand and pulled him inside the house. All evening I’d been wavering between wanting to make the first move and waiting for him to make it. On the drive home, I had made the decision to give him a small window of opportunity and if he didn’t use it, I would.

  In the hallway, we frantically tugged each other’s coats off and then made quick work of our clothes. I could feel my heart beating faster as Blake pulled my dress over my head to reveal the lacy blue bra and panties that matched the color of my dress.

  “Whoa,” he said, as he inhaled sharply. “You’re…amazing!”

  I smiled as I undid his tie and made quick work of his shirt buttons. I pushed his shirt off his shoulders and murmured, “You’re pretty amazing yourself, you know.”

  I ran my fingers down the smooth curve of his chest and heard him swallow a moan as I circled his nipples with the tip of my nail and watched as they hardened under my teasing. I tipped my head up and smiled as he bent to kiss me and felt his fingers slip into my hair. When he pulled my head back and ran his tongue down my neck, it was my turn to stifle a sigh.

  His hands slid lower, and he pressed me against his body as I wound my arms around his neck and kissed him harder. With a flick of his fingers, he undid the hooks on my bra and slid the straps off my shoulders. I let the blue lace drop to the floor as Blake pulled back and cupped my breasts, taking his turn at teasing my nipples with his thumbs.

  “Oh God,” I moaned, as he squeezed them into rigid nubs. I grabbed his arm, turned toward my bedroom, and said, “This way. Now.”

  Blake followed me down the hallway to my room, where I pushed him down on the bed and quickly straddled his hips. His eyes were wide with surprise as I leaned down and kissed him hard. He didn’t protest when I grabbed his hands and pushed them up over his head, holding them down on the mattress.

  “My way first,” I whispered into his lips as I began grinding against him, feeling his stiff erection rubbing between my legs.

  “Jesus H. Christ, lady,” he inhaled, as I moved my hips back and forth, enjoying the pressure against my most sensitive spot. I smiled as I increased the tempo and leaned back down to kiss him again.

  He pulled his hands free and grabbed my hips as he sat up and flipped me over on my back. He chuckled at the surprised look on my face as he looped his fingers over the edge of my panties and yanked them down.

  “Now it’s my way,” he said, as he ran his hands over my bare skin and slid one hand between my legs and began slowly stroking the sensitive skin with the tips of his fingers. I arched my back and moaned as he slid two fingers between my wet, aching lips and began running them from top to bottom, stopping to tease my slick opening before sliding back up again.

  “Blake…Blake…” I panted, as he continued tracing his path between my legs, driving me toward a state of arousal that I’d never before felt.

  “You want more?” he whispered into my lips before kissing me deeply. I could only nod in response. I felt him shift on top of me and then spread my legs apart before he pressed the tip of his shaft just inside me and then held it there for what felt like an eternity.

  “Oh God, Blake, please…” I moaned loudly, as I reached around and grabbed his hips, trying to force him deeper inside me. He looked down at me, smiled, and then with one swift motion, he thrust deep inside me — and then stopped.

  I cried out in frustration as I thrust my hips upward trying to make him move, and as he looked down at me, I could see the beads of sweat dripping off his forehead.

  “You’re killing me,” I said through gritted teeth, as I strained to move under him.

  “Nah, not killing you,” he grinned. “Just making you want it more than anything you’ve ever wanted.”

  “I do!” I cried, as I struggled against the pressure of his body on mine. “I’ve never wanted anything this bad in my entire life!”

  “You sure about that?” he asked, as he pulled back an inch and then thrust deep again.

  “Oh Christ,” I groaned. “I’ve wanted you all week! I wanted you from the minute you picked me up for dinner! I wanted you the whole ride home! What else do I have to do to prove it?”

  “Mmmmm, I like to hear you tell me how much you want it,” he murmured, as he gave me a few short thrusts, which elicited several low moans.

  “Blake, please,” I begged, as he slipped a hand between us, pressed his thumb against my swollen clit and began gently massaging it.

  “More?” he asked. “You want more?”

  “Oh God, you have no idea,” I whimpered.

  “I think I do,” he whispered, as he pulled his hand from between us, propped himself up on his forearms, and began a series of long, deep thrusts that made me feel like every nerve in my body was on fire. I could feel him hard and deep as he massaged my inner walls, hitting my G-spot with every stroke.

  I reached out and grabbed his arms as I bent my knees and planted my feet, thrusting my hips up to match his rhythm. Soon we were pounding against each other, searching for a shared climax that was just out of reach.

  Blake pulled back and sat up, grabbing my legs and bending me almost in half, and I gasped as he entered me again, this time at an angle that I knew was going to drive me straight over the edge. He bent my legs as he pushed into me with short, quick strokes and forced a low moan from somewhere deep inside me. He let go of one leg, and returned his thumb to my clit and beg
an stroking again.

  “Oh God, Blake!” I cried, as the combination of thrusts and stroking took me past the pleasure into the realm of ecstasy, and I let go as I tumbled into my orgasm. Blake continued his rhythm until I heard him groan, then he bent forward and in a few quick strokes he followed my lead, and I felt the warm rush of his release.

  I wrapped my arms around him until the last waves of pleasure receded. He slid out of me and reached for the blanket I kept folded at the end of the bed, pulling it over both of us as he pulled me to him and kissed me softly.

  “That was intense,” he said, as I snuggled under his arm against his side. Unable to find the words to express myself, I simply nodded and then tipped my face up so that I could kiss his jaw. He looked down at me and smiled, “I’m glad you agree.”

  “I definitely do,” I smiled back. He bent and kissed me again before he lay back and closed his eyes, letting out a contented sigh.

  “I wasn’t sure it was going to be as good as I remembered it being the first time,” Blake said quietly. “I felt bad, like I’d taken advantage of your situation, but you were so sexy…I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Yep, nothing like playing the damsel in distress to turn a guy on!” I laughed.

  “Is that what you thought?”

  “No! I’m teasing you, silly!” I laughed harder. “If I’m honest, the day of the fire was the culmination of weeks of wondering what you’d be like in bed.”

  “You’re kidding me,” he said, turning to look at me.

  “Nope, I was hot for you after the parent-teacher conference, but since making a play for a student’s parent is seriously frowned upon by the school district, I thought I’d just burn my house down and see how that turned out,” I said, grinning up at him.

  “You’ve got a sick sense of humor,” he said with a smile. “It’s one of the many things I like about you.”

  “Mmmm, I like how warm you are,” I said, resting my cheek against his chest as he stroked my hair. “I could get used to this.”