Mister Baby Daddy (Bad Boys in Love Book 3)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  Walker has let me down.

  Everybody lets me down.

  This is why I planned to do this parenting thing on my own. People have proven to be a letdown for me my entire life. I wanted a fresh start. A family to call my own. A new generation that learns of unconditional love and compassion. Not disappointment.

  Now that dream has been dashed by the one person I dared to share it with.

  My eyes are prickling. My sinuses tingle. The tears are ready to come in a downpour. I hold them back.

  Walker’s gaze narrows on me. “No. You don’t understand.” He shoves his big hand through his hair, all frustrated and riled up. “We need to do this the old-fashioned way.”

  The old-fashioned…

  “What?” Maybe I didn’t hear him correctly. If he means…

  He takes a powerful step toward me. “We need to do it the old-fashioned way. Man. Woman. Bed. Insert tab A into slot B.”

  Holy shit. That’s exactly what he meant. “You’re crazy.” It only comes out as a whisper.

  He shrugs those big shoulders, like he didn’t just turn my world sideways. “What is crazy about doing things the way nature intended?” He looks at me like I’m the crazy one.

  My skin is flushed from head to toe. I feel heat singeing my body everywhere. Fantasies are one thing. But this? Making a baby with Walker like this? It’s going to destroy me.

  The idea of getting naked with Walker short circuits something in my brain. Oh lord. I feel lightheaded. Good thing I’m at a medical clinic, already perched on an exam table.

  Has he lost his goddamn mind? I can’t do that. There’s no way I’m getting into bed with that man without being completely crushed by the weight of what I feel for him.

  It’s like he wants to break my heart.

  Swinging my legs away from him, I hop off the table. I’m done with this. I can’t deal with him and his insane ideas right now.

  “Just take me home,” I tell him, grabbing my purse off the floor. “Forget it. Forget I ever asked you to do this. We should have never agreed to it.”

  It shatters me to say that, but it’s true. I should have never agreed to do this with him. I knew it was a recipe for disaster the moment the offer left his perfect, beautiful mouth.

  “Penny…”

  I shake my head, holding up a hand between us. Whatever excuses or hair-brained ideas he has next, I don’t want to hear them. We’ve gotten into arguments before, but I have never been so furious with Walker Kingston. This one is the mother of all fights.

  “Just take me home,” I say, walking out of the exam room and not looking back.

  19

  Walker

  I dodge around ladders and power tools and sweaty contractors, and stalk into my house, fully convinced there’s something I need in here. I just need to figure out what that something is and what I need it for.

  I’m trying to get work done around the farm today, but for the life of me, I can’t stop thinking about things with Penny.

  She’s barely spoken three words to me since I botched her procedure. I hate how things stand between us right now. It's been almost a week, and I miss my friend like crazy. It feels like an eternity since she's pulled away from me.

  I need to fix it.

  I went out on a limb that day, suggesting we have sex, and I screwed everything to hell. I was a damn fool for thinking Penny would actually agree to my stupid, rash idea.

  It’s just...the way she looks at me sometimes…I thought maybe—just maybe—she’d be okay with it, she wouldn't be opposed to the idea of my hands on her body. Obviously, I was wrong.

  I forgo whatever tool I should find, and walk straight into the kitchen where she's vigorously stripping wallpaper from the wall. I need to talk to her. She has been giving me the cold shoulder since things fell apart. She still shows up to work here, and she insists that she’s not mad. But there’s a gaping distance between us that I’ve never experienced until now.

  I don’t know how to fix it.

  “Hey, how's it going?” I ask, striving for normal and leaning against the door frame. I watch her work.

  “Fine,” she chirps. She doesn’t flinch at my sudden intrusion. She doesn’t even turn around. It’s almost as though I don’t exist to her.

  She doesn't have to say a word to me. She's pissed.

  I let my eyes close for a second, pinching the bridge of my nose. Fuck, I knew this baby thing would change our friendship. But I had to go and be selfish and demand that she involve me.

  Penny said this wouldn’t work. I refused to listen. Look at us now.

  She keeps stripping the kitchen wallpaper with a level of aggression I never knew she was capable of. I flinch. Shouldn’t the contractors be taking care of that?

  This is basically how it’s been all week. I try to talk to her, and she answers in as few words as possible.

  “So, you got the new, uh, fabric samples you said you ordered?” I ask, daring to move a few steps closer. She has to talk to me about work stuff. Even if I have no idea what she’s doing. “Did you find some floor tiles you liked? And what about those curtains you were talking about? Do you need my approval on anything else?”

  “All set. Thanks, though.” She continues to give me her back. And though I love admiring the shape of her body in those messy denim overalls, I'm aching to see her face, to look into her eyes, and know if she's really okay.

  I prop my ass against an old stool in the corner while she works. Since nothing else has gotten a reaction out of her, I dive right into the crux of the matter. “I thought maybe we could talk. Y'know, about what happened at the clinic.”

  Penny glances back at me briefly, before turning away with a small shrug. “We’re good.”

  “Are you sure, Penn? Because I just—”

  “We’re fine. I’m fine. I just have a lot of work to finish here before my shift at the bar this afternoon.”

  She cuts the conversation short. Again.

  “All right,” I give up, turning on my heel to leave. I don't want to push the issue and come across as a creep who's just trying to use this situation to get into her pants. “If there’s anything I can help with…let me know.” Christ. That was a dumb choice of words, considering what happened with the last thing I was supposed to help her with.

  As I'm marching off in the direction of the farm, a fucking scary thought sparks…

  What if Penny goes back to her original plan? What if she decides to get a sperm donor anyway, now that I’ve fucked up my offer to help her?

  If she does that, I just know I will lose her forever.

  20

  Penny

  Today was more of an admin day at the bar—making employee schedules, dealing with suppliers, ordering stock. It felt like an absolute luxury, not having to face the general public with this shitty mood I'm in.

  I get home just before midnight, the darkness and stillness of the apartment making me feel icky. And very much alone. I pull my hair into a sloppy bun and collapse onto the couch with an energy drink and a box of frosted cereal.

  #NutritionGoals

  Not so much.

  I feel stuck again. I feel like my life is shuttering to another stall, and I hate it. I had everything lined up, and now it’s been thrown out the window. Like these past months of planning and preparation have all been for nothing. Now, I'm just emotionally drained and I want to hide from the hurt.

  I haven’t even told the girls about my dashed plans yet. When they bugged me about how the big appointment went, I just vaguely said I had to push pause on things for a while. They probably realized that I didn't want to talk about it and they were kind enough not to push me to open up at the moment.

  As disappointed as I am that Walker backed out on me, I know he feels bad about it. I just haven’t been able to process this bitterness I feel, even though I know it's misplaced. He's made a genuine effort to get back into my good graces over the past few weeks but if I do talk to him, I might just lose it a
nd break down into a snotty, sobbing mess.

  At the mere thought of my friend, I grab a throw pillow and brace it against my aching heart. I thought the plan with Walker was a sure deal. We even signed a seventeen-page agreement to make it all official. Not that I would ever force him to fulfill those obligations if he doesn’t want to. I’m not that selfish.

  And this whole time, there's been a little voice at the back of my mind, a quiet but constant reminder that, Walker never said he didn’t want to help me have a child. Just that he couldn’t do it in the clinical setting.

  As hard as I try to move past it, I can’t stop thinking about his suggestion that we make a baby the traditional way. Did he really, really mean it? Why would he be okay with that, but not okay with donating?

  Even still, I can’t help but be tempted. I mean, it’s Walker Kingston. The growly, rugged cowboy vibe can make the steadiest woman a little wobbly. Not even the medical students from the clinic could keep their panties on straight with him in the room.

  I know it’s horrible. I know that having sex with Walker—even for a really good reason—is a really bad idea. I wish I could stop myself from wanting it so much.

  With a sigh, I curl up into my cushions, grabbing my phone. Part of me wants to hold on to my pride, my righteous indignation. The man disappointed me, after all. But he’s my best friend and the other part of me wants to reach out to him. To ask him what’s going on in his head. To talk about his whole crazy suggestion that we conceive a baby the natural way.

  When I unlock the screen, I’m met with a selfie of me and him at the bar a few months back. I’m making a silly face, and he’s scowling like usual. Despite that, I see a faint twinkle in his eye. He doesn’t hate taking pictures as much as he wants everyone to think. I see past the mask he wears for the world.

  Eventually, I get up from the couch, headed for the kitchen to clean up. Then I’m off the the bathroom for my night routine.

  Makeup remover. Cleanser. Moisturizer. Brush and floss.

  But as I'm pacing down the hallway, I glance at my calendar. I nab the thing right off the wall. Today's date is circled in florescent pink.

  Shit—I'm ovulating.

  My heart clenches. One more precious egg that will go down the drain. If I don't act. Tonight.

  I press my eyes shut and muster my inner strength. Suddenly, I'm so damn tired of delaying the things I want.

  21

  Walker

  My eyes snap open in the dark and I bolt upright in bed. My instincts hone in, trying to make sense of the loud noise that just roused me from my sleep.

  But I'm tired and I'd rather not have to deal with any middle-of-the-night crises so I drop my head back on my pillow. I try convincing myself that it was just a fleeting dream that somehow crossed over into consciousness. But then I hear the loud banging again.

  Not a dream.

  Someone is at my front door, in the middle of the damn night. That can't be good.

  Hopefully, it's just one of my farm hands here to tell me a rogue cow escaped again.

  Ambling out of bed, I flick on the hallway light and make my way through the living room. When I open my cabin door, I’m greeted by something so much better. Penny is on my front porch, a nervous light twinkling in her pretty eyes.

  My brain is spinning at a slow, sleep-drunk pace so it takes me a second to process what's going on. But damn, the woman looks unbelievable right now. Lipstick. Heels. A tiny fucking dress. I probably look like a dimwit as I stand here drowsily drinking her in.

  But my friend seems to be running low on patience tonight. Without waiting for an invitation, she pushes past me and storms inside. I nudge the door closed, turning toward her. I would be worried about her showing up here unannounced at this time of night, but she's all dolled up and it doesn’t look like an accident that she appeared on my doorstep.

  Now, she’s pacing in my small living room, mumbling something I can’t make out.

  "Penn? You okay?"

  She stops and looks me dead in the eyes. “What if you can’t get it up?”

  I squint at her, as if that will somehow help me hear her more clearly. What in the hell is she talking about? I scrape both palms down my face, wiping sleep from my eyes, still trying to wade through my confusion. “What?”

  She tries again, slower this time. “What if we try to…to have…sex, and then, you can’t—y’know—get it up for me?”

  Sex. She’s talking about sex. Penny Merlini is at my place. In the middle of the night. Holding a hypothetical conversation about having my dick inside her pussy. Like this is just a normal day for us.

  Nah—this has got to be another one of my dirty dreams. I rub my eyes again.

  But she's still standing in front of me, with her hands planted on the feminine curves of her hips, waiting for some kind of response out of me.

  “Why wouldn’t I be able to get it up?” I ask, even more perplexed as this conversation progresses.

  Penny flings her arms outward, frustrated by my lethargy. Or my stupidity. It’s one of those. I'm not sure. “Well, what if I’m not your type? What if you don’t get turned on by me? Men can’t have sex if they aren’t turned on.”

  Is this woman blind?

  I rake my gaze down her body, taking in her sexy outfit, her sensual curves.

  My mouth waters. My cock twitches, ready to take on the challenge. “Yeah…I don’t think getting it up will be a problem.”

  Her cheeks pink up and she shifts her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

  But since we’re already on this topic… “Would you be able to, y’know…” I cough, trying to clear my throat, and then I motion toward the sexy place where her thighs meet. “...get wet?”

  A hundred times, I've fantasized about Penny showing up here in the middle of the night. None of those fantasies ever started as awkward as this. Holy hell.

  She stares at my chest, reminding me that I’m naked from the waist up, wearing only the boxers I sleep in. One of her slim shoulders lifts in a shrug as her cheeks redden. “I…I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

  “Do you need, like, lube or…?” I'm trying to be a gentleman here.

  She gives me an incredulous look.

  I shrug unapologetically. In all fairness, she’s the one who barged in and started this uncomfortable discussion.

  Penny’s face flushes to a deeper red. “No, I’m good.”

  I'm not completely sure I believe her. "No offence but you're a bit high-maintenance..." And I'm a simple farmer. Do I have what it takes to 'get her there'?

  She clears her throat and looks away. "Definitely wouldn't need lube for you, Walker?"

  What the hell does that mean? Did my friend just admit to being attracted to me? I'm not sure but I do know my cock likes the insinuation. Very much.

  My ego quirks up. I give Penny a lopsided smile.

  She fidgets some more. "I just mean—most women would agree that...that you're an attractive guy."

  “Would they, now?” I feel my smirk growing deeper.

  She covers her face. "You're making this super awkward."

  The first time I suggested that we handle this situation the traditional way, Penny handed me a big, fat rejection. My dick cannot handle being shot down by her again. I need this woman to be one hundred and fifty percent sure.

  “So, is this happening?”

  This time, she nods. Her eyes are wide and nervous, but they stay on mine. "Yes."

  I take a step forward, hoping my over-eagerness doesn't scare her away. “Tonight?” I confirm.

  She nods again.

  I realize now that we’re no longer speaking in hypotheticals. She's ready to do this. For real. She stands there, innocently batting her long lashes at me.

  Fuck.

  I inhale deeply and wipe my sweaty hands on my boxers. I glance around my living room, suddenly unsure of how to make my move. “Oh, okay. So, let me just, um…” In a few large strides, I’m at my stereo, flip
ping on some music. A loud, screeching sound fills up the room.

  “What the hell is that?” I turn back and find Penny flinching.

  “I’m setting the mood.”

  She sticks her fingers into her ears, obviously not a fan of the harmonica solos my favorite radio station plays at this time of night. “The mood for what? Scaring off coyotes?”

  I grin sheepishly. “Okay, forget the music. I’m lighting a fire.”

  “A fire is good." She stands awkwardly in the middle of the room and tangles her fingers in front of her.

  “Why don’t you have a seat, and I’ll get this fire going?”

  Wordlessly, she perches on the edge of my couch, sitting with her knees together and wringing her hands in her lap.

  Kneeling on the hard floor in front of my stone fireplace, I arrange the last couple fresh logs I have in my cabin. This should be enough for a quick fire. When I move to strike the thin match, the damn thing snaps between my fingers. I pull out another match and try again only to get the same outcome. My hands are too shaky.

  I breathe out a quivering sigh. Christ. Why is this so weird? I’m making this so fucking weird. I need to chill the hell out.

  I know what I’m doing. I know how to turn a woman on. Penny just caught me off guard tonight, that’s all.

  I’ve fantasized about fucking Penny Merlini since the first time I got a boner. I'm pretty sure the very first time I whacked off it was to the thought of her. She’s been in my cowgirl fantasy. My nurse fantasy. And even my space station rescue fantasy.

  But this right here, tonight? This isn't a dream. This is the real damn thing.

  Penny is sitting on my couch, looking like an absolute goddess, and I’m getting ready to have all my fantasies come true.