Mister Baby Daddy (Bad Boys in Love Book 3)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  “Well, you may not have Prince Charming, but you have a best friend. You have me.” I say words I never thought I’d utter in my lifetime. “I’ll be your sperm donor, Princess. Let me be your...baby daddy.”

  8

  Penny

  His too-large hands are still gripping my sides. My jaw drops.

  Let me be your...baby daddy.

  I need to pinch myself. The man of my dreams just offered to jizz into a cup for me. On a countdown of the wildest conversations Walker and I have ever had, this one officially takes the top spot. I’m floored that he’d even suggest this.

  I can’t deny the way my body rouses at the sound of him begging to be my baby daddy. Yet I can't accept his offer.

  “I don’t think so,” I say slowly, stepping back out of his reach. I can’t have a conversation about having babies with Walker’s hands on my skin.

  Putting distance between us does little. I can still feel the warmth of his imprints. The last time he grabbed my hips like this was when he was helping me climb out of his truck a few years ago, when he was taking me home from the hospital after my liver procedure. Crazy how something so fleeting is still seared into my memory.

  Those stormy honey brown eyes leer at me some more. “Give me a good reason why not,” he counters in that demanding tone of his, the words gruff, raspy and thick. His bossiness was the root of many arguments during our childhood. But now it doesn’t phase me. It’s just Walker, and for some reason, he can’t control the aggressiveness in his voice.

  To be honest, sometimes I even find it a little sexy. Sometimes, the growly man's disapproval is kind of exciting.

  But that’s beside the point. Or maybe, that’s exactly my point.

  “This would make things weird between us. You’re my best friend. It’d be super weird between us if you fathered my child.”

  He shakes his head. “Doesn’t have to be,” he says simply. Like we’re just talking about the weather forecast for the upcoming weekend.

  “Walker, you’re my B-F-F,” I explain, cringing a little at the terminology. It’s my go-to when I need to put distance between us. When I need to remind myself that he’s my friend, and nothing more. “We’ve been through so much together. I can’t lose your friendship. Not even over something as important as this.”

  “You won’t.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  He shrugs his broad shoulders. “I do.”

  “You’re saying that you’d be okay seeing me all the time—with your kid—knowing you don’t have a role in his life?”

  He shrugs again, and I’m half-tempted to grab those overly-broad shoulders and shake him. “Why not?”

  I throw my hands outward, then let them smack against my legs. “Your two-word responses are really driving me crazy right now,” I say through gritted teeth.

  Despite his carefree, indifferent responses to everything I throw at him, I don’t trust the look I see in his eyes.

  His lips tell me that he won’t be affected by this. Those dark eyes say otherwise.

  They tell me that he's not quite sure. He may think he can lie to me, but I know him well enough to know he’s deluding himself.

  There’s a reason for separation of church and state. I’m thinking the separation of friendship and reproduction sounds like a damn good idea, too. This is dangerous ground we’re treading on.

  Besides, how is this even going to work? Say Walker actually is fine with it all…What about me? I’ve been in love with this dude for...forever. I'm making a genuine attempt to get over him, so making a baby with him seems counterproductive, to say the least.

  He shrugs off my concern in that infuriatingly unbothered way of his. “I’m not a family type of guy. I’ve never even considered being a father. I’ll be fine seeing you with the kid...Is that better than my two-word answers?”

  The smart-ass.

  His big shoulders rock on his massive exhale. “Look—I promised to help you life the fuck out of your life. I take that promise seriously.”

  “Don’t remind me of that…” I bury my face in my palms. "Don't remind me about last night."

  When he pulls my hands away from my eyes, he’s smiling. “Penny, I’m dead serious.”

  I examine his face. His darkened eyes hold every ounce of sincerity I’d want to see on the face of a man I was about to procreate with.

  “I’m not looking for someone to co-parent with,” I warn. I need to make sure he understands what I’m after. He needs to understand how this would work. “I want to do this on my own terms. A single mother. Can you be okay with that?”

  I’ve got to draw a clear line in the sand. Walker has a hero complex, at least when it comes to me. He always seems to think I’m his responsibility. He acts like it’s his life’s mission to make sure I don’t screw up mine. Maybe that’s why we never had a shot at hooking up. He still sees me as that pathetic little girl he had to share his tuna sandwich with back in elementary school. But right now, I need him to see me as a grown-ass woman.

  "I'm okay with that." He tilts his head. “We can have some paperwork drawn up to make sure I fully follow your requirements. I could hire Cannon's lawyer. Frank is fantastic with unique arrangements like this.”

  I don’t know what that means, but I like the idea of making it official. I know I can trust Walker, but maybe I'd feel more comfortable if we have an agreement to point back to.

  I start pacing again, avoiding his stare. And again, I'm gnawing on my French manicure.

  A baby with the Kingston’ family good looks wouldn’t be so bad. A little boy with Walker’s hard-won smile and my eyes. Or a little girl with ruby hair and Walker’s honey-eyed stare. I can’t deny it. I think we could make a beautiful child together.

  Plus, I know this man. He isn’t some faceless stranger. I’d know the personality traits I could expect. I’d know his family health history, and all personal details should that ever become a need. And I’d never have to worry about my child being one of those scary kids in the horror movies...the ones who try and murder their parents in the middle of the night.

  Nope. This kid would have some kickass genes.

  And knowing all that makes this a little easier.

  “Okay,” I say, a slow grin growing across my face, one centimeter at a time.

  “Okay?” The corner of his decadent mouth twitches with a smile.

  "Yes, okay."

  Excitement bubbles beneath the surface. I’m doing this. I’m actually doing this. Not a 'sometime down the line, maybe soon' sort of deal. With my free sperm donation, I have more than enough saved up to get the process started. Now.

  “I'll call the clinic and let them know I have a sperm donor then.”

  I resist squealing. I’ll do that when my sperm donor leaves.

  My sperm donor.

  Did y'all hear me?!

  Walker Kingston will be my sperm donor. Gah!

  He gives me a single nod. “All right. Give me the time and place, and I’m there with my plastic cup.”

  I smack him. "No more talk about specimen collection tonight." With my hands on his big, broad back, I push him out the door.

  At the threshold, I pause.

  “Wait. Do you have any twins in your family history?”

  9

  Penny

  What about this one?" I run my fingers along the fringes of the colorful, hand-woven rug hanging against the wall. "I think it's totally rustic but a little bit edgy, unexpected. That's the look we're going for." I grin and wiggle my shoulders playfully.

  Today, I'm helping my cousin pick out furniture for her flower shop. We're at this quiet little thrift store on Promenade Street down by the water. I have no doubt we'll be able to score some unique pieces to help Iris achieve the shabby chic look she's going for.

  The store owner sits by the cash register, crochet pin moving at lightning speed. Every now and then, she glances up over the frames of her glasses to stab us with her suspicious glare and remind
us that if we break something, we'd better be ready to pay for it. But Shirley's grouchy attitude doesn't faze me. My mood is ten-on-ten today.

  Iris peers at me from halfway across the room, uncertainty in her eyes. "Really? It seems a little...loud to me." She points at a gray mosaic-patterned rug. "How about that one?"

  I scrunch up my nose. "Way too 'obvious'," I argue, still defending my selection. "We want something dramatic, something kapow!" I press my fingers together them pop them apart with flair. "Even if we have to sacrifice practicality a tiny little bit." I grin. I'm trying hard to sell her my vision but my cousin isn't buying it. She squints and shakes her head. "Oh, come on. Look at it. The craftsmanship is exceptional and the Moroccan influences totally add a wow factor. What do you think, Lex? Back me up."

  Nope—I'm totally not above dragging our mutual friend into this argument just to get my way.

  When I don't hear a response out of Lexi, I turn and find her balled up in a rattan bucket chair with a second-hand quilt draped over her body. She's merrily snoring her little pregnant heart out.

  Iris and I snicker.

  "Poor thing," my cousin says as she tugs down the end of the blanket to cover Lexi's swollen ankles. "She's been dead on her feet the past few days. Third trimester is kicking her butt."

  Lexi's having a baby. The mere reminder makes my own uterus leap with joy. Because soon, I'll be having a kid, too.

  I barely slept after Walker left last night. All I could do was stare up at the ceiling imagining what our baby would look like.

  My baby. Yeah, my baby.

  Walker made it clear that he's not interested in being a father. He's perfectly comfortable with signing over all legal rights to me.

  That's good. That's what I wanted, right? A simple, no strings attached sperm donation. So I don't understand the pang I feel every time I remind myself that Walker won't be involved in this child's life. I brush it off, chalk it up to the lingering remnants of my lifelong crush on my best friend. A crush I'm more than ready to move on from so I can begin the next chapter of my life.

  "Hey. Earth to Penny?" Iris waves a hand around in my face.

  "Sorry, just considering other flooring options." I smile sheepishly. My cousin doesn't seem to detect my boldface lie. "It looks like we'll just have to agree to disagree on the rug for now." I loop my arm through hers, lowering my voice so I don't disturb Lexi. "Come. I saw a chandelier over there that's to die for."

  Iris and I rummage through the store's decorative offerings. Along with the pre-owned chandelier, we manage to pick out a few crystal vases and brass candleholders as well. This project has been so fun. It’s like digging up an old dream that died and breathing life into it again.

  When Jessa bursts through the front door, Lexi leaps from her slumber with a yip.

  "Sorry, sorry, sorry," Jessa chirps happily, slipping her purse strap back up her arm and tucking her windblown hair behind her ear. "I know I'm late. I just had to stop by the post office."

  Lexi rolls her eyes as she swings her legs out of her bucket chair and stands. "My gosh! What is it with you and the post office these days?" she grumbles. "Save a tree, send an email. Haven't you heard?"

  Iris grins conspiratorially. "Jessa? Is there something you're not telling us? Are you having an affair with the mailman?"

  Jessa turns an off-the-color-spectrum shade of red as she stuffs a thick stack of envelopes into her purse. "Can you guys stop giving me a hard time? I'm just s-searching for a j-job. Mailing applications. It's hard out here, man."

  Although Jessa is gainfully-employed as nanny to Walker's adorable niece, teaching kindergarteners was always her dream. However, landing the ideal position hear in Crescent Harbor has been a struggle for her. Regardless, from her expression, it's clear—our little Jessa has a secret. But as a woman with secrets of my own, I'm not one to pry. Instead, I save her from our friends' interrogation.

  "Ladies. Focus." I snap my fingers in the air. "Are we liking these velvet throw pillows or not?"

  My friends all agree—the pillows are a ‘yes’. I cheerfully shift my attention to the next item on my shopping list, practically dancing my way across the store.

  "What's got you so upbeat today?" Lexi questions as she waddles through the cluttered furniture displays after me.

  "Me? Upbeat?" My favorite teal stilettos hammer the scratched hardwood floors. I'm wearing a collared floral blouse tucked into perfectly tailored slim denim together with playful accessories. I think I look classy and professional without coming across as too stiff and serious.

  "Yes, you." Jessa bumps her shoulder into mine, a smile in her tone.

  "Come on, Penn. Don't hold out on us." Iris perches on the edge of a sturdy dining table, ready for all the gossip. "What's going on?"

  I bite my bottom lip, almost bursting to share the news with my girlfriends. "I...I found a sperm donor."

  Jessa's eyes widen. "Really? That's so exciting." She claps her hands together. The girls form a circle around me.

  "And very fast," Lexi notes. "I thought it'd be a whole, long process."

  I glance down at my shoes and say, "No, it was surprisingly...simple."

  I can almost feel my friends' eyebrows quirking up.

  I can't string them along any further. "Guys, it's Walker," I confess. "Walker will be my donor."

  "Walker?!" Iris blurts out. "Walker Walker?"

  "Big, grumpy cowboy, Walker?" Lexi grips her belly like her water's about to erupt from shock.

  Jessa's grinning so wide and her eyes look like they're going to pop. "You two are together now?"

  "Oh gosh, no!" I say dismissively, trying to act aloof. "We're not together!"

  Iris's eyebrow tucks into her hairline. "So, what's the deal?"

  I shift my attention to an antique china set displayed on the table beside me. "I'll be doing artificial insemination using Walker's specimen." My friends all look too dumbfounded to request an explanation. I give them one anyway. "He came over last night and offered to go to the clinic with me and provide his specimen. Before you guys say anything, he promised to sign over his parental rights and give me my space to raise the child on my own."

  "This doesn't seem like a very good idea," Iris says cautiously.

  "I know—it sounds crazy," I concede. "But I'm the coupon queen. Why would I buy sperm from a stranger when my best friend is offering his up for free?” I drop the teasing and confess, “Plus, this thing is a whole lot less scary if I'm doing it with him by my side."

  “What about all the risks? Have you weighed all of them?” my cousin questions, always thinking the worst. I can’t blame her. She’s been through a lot of crap over the past few years, especially before Jude came into her life. But still, she needs to trust me on this.

  “I have. I’ve done more than my share of research. I know all the odds. I know the medical risks,” I explain. “I’ve been especially careful, checking about my liver. I’ve discussed it all with my doctors, and they agree that I’m not at a higher risk for pregnancy complications, being a living organ donor. I’ll be fine. The benefits—holding my very own baby in my arms—far outweigh any medical risks.”

  Iris speaks softly, resting her hand on my forearm. “No, I'm not talking about the medical risks here. I'm talking about the risk to your heart. You’ve been in love with Walker forever." She eyes me cautiously. "This seems like a recipe for disaster.”

  "Stop being dramatic, guys." I act aloof despite the bite of concern I feel deep inside.

  "Penny, the whole point of having a baby was so that you could move on with your life, take your focus off of Walker, get over him," Lexi reminds me. "Letting him be your sperm-donor is low-key dysfunctional."

  My gut clenches. I wish I wasn’t so transparent. I know she's right. But people do stupid shit when staying in denial is easier than facing the truth. “I’ll be fine,” I say, even though I’m not sure. The words come out all high-pitched and strangled. As always, I’m a shit liar. I can’t even
lie to myself.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Iris asks, still skeptical.

  “One hundred percent sure,” I answer.

  I know they think I’m rushing into this, but nothing they say will make me change my mind. This is exactly what I want. Iris and Lexi believe in the traditional set-up—a husband, a home and a happily-ever-after. But that's not in my own future. I have to accept that.

  “Well, I think it’s all meant to be,” Jessa says in a dreamy voice. “I think everything is going to work out for you and Walker in the end. Just you wait. You’re going to be a big, happy family before you know it.”

  Ha. Wouldn’t that be lovely?

  “Well. I’m a realist. I’m not holding out any hope for a storybook romance with Walker. I just want my baby. Me and that sweet little kid are going to live happily ever after.” I run my fingers along the edge of the vintage dining table.

  The shop owner calls out from the back of the store. "You girls gonna buy anything or what? Lock-up time is in ten minutes."

  "Jeez, Shirley. Give us a second." Lexi throws the woman a glare then lowers her voice. "With customer service like this no wonder no one comes in here."

  Jessa giggles.

  "Let's just go decide on a rug and get this day over with..." I mutter, my mood now sour.

  Lexi and Jessa amble off but Iris remains by my side. "I know you think you've figured out what's best but I just don't want to see you get hurt, Penn."

  "I know."

  "So promise me you'll think it over. Before you do anything drastic. Please?"

  "Fine." I mutter. But despite the freshly-planted seed of doubt in my gut, I'm not changing my mind.

  I'm having this baby. With Walker.

  10

  Walker

  My cell phone has been attached to my hip for the past few weeks. The one time I left the device in the barn, I was rewarded with 17 missed calls from Penny.