Mister Baby Daddy (Bad Boys in Love Book 3)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  Over the commotion of the room, Cannon speaks to his brother. “As I was saying, I might be able to put you in touch with an equipment dealer, someone who sells eco-friendly machines. I know you care a lot about reducing the farm’s carbon footprint. His pricing is reasonable and he seems willing to negotiate if you’re buying a couple of rigs. Do you want me to set up a meeting with him?”

  Walker clears his throat and focuses his attention on the dishwasher. “I’ve decided to hold off on replacing the tractors,” he announces.

  Cannon’s eyebrow lifts with surprise. “Oh really? Why’s that?”

  Walker’s big back jerks when he shrugs noncommittally. “I'd rather invest my time and energy elsewhere right now. That’s all.”

  Lucas and Diana share a look. Cannon’s eyes dart straight to my belly. Iris raises an eyebrow at me as she grabs a doggy bag and ducks out of the room.

  Walker may be acting aloof but his motives are clear to all of us. And I’m not so sure I feel comfortable with it.

  With a hint of a grin, Cannon decides to drop the topic. “Alright, man. I understand that. Just let me know if you change your mind.” He paces away to the other side of the room as the baby begins to fuss.

  An uneasy feeling settles in my stomach. Walker has been planning to change his farm equipment for months, and now all of a sudden, he’s abandoned his plan? I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.

  When he approaches the kitchen table to swoop up a fistful of dirty utensils, I peer up into his face. “You changed your mind about the tractors?”

  He shrugs. “Yeah.” One word. Uttered casual as fuck.

  “Why is that?” I press, not letting him off the hook so easily. “Upgrading your farm equipment is all you've been talking about for months.”

  The family continues to bustle about in the background.

  Walker echoes Iris’s words from earlier. “People change their minds, Penn.”

  As usual, he’s doing that thing he does. And as usual, it’s driving me crazy. He’s shutting me out.

  I angle my head to the side. “You promised you'd be open with me,” I remind him softly, touching his forearm.

  He pushes out a long breath and drops into the chair beside me. “Everything is so uncertain now. With you and the babies. It’s not like I’m hurting for money but I don't want to tie up my resources in farm equipment and not be able to provide for your needs in the short term.”

  An acidic feeling spreads through my belly. “You know that we're not your responsibility,” I hiss in a low tone, not wanting to draw his family’s attention. “I can take care of everything on my own.” My hands fall to my stomach and I brace it protectively.

  “But you don't need to,” he counters, his voice firm but quiet.

  I shake my head. “The last thing I want is to inconvenience you. Walker, I don't want to throw your dreams off course.”

  “Just let me do this for you, Penny,” he growls. “Just let me take care of you.”

  He kisses me softly on the lips. His body language says he doesn’t want to fight. And neither do I. That’s why I let him walk away, effectively ending our conversation.

  Moments later, we’re quietly strolling down the path back toward Walker’s cabin. His hand is low on my back to steady my steps.

  Once we’re inside, I head straight for the bathroom for my night time routine.

  Makeup remover. Cleanser. Moisturizer. Brush and floss. Mild anxiety attack curled over the bathroom sink.

  Maybe I should be excited that this sweet man is willing to put his dreams aside for mine. But in reality, it terrifies me. Because I know what happens when someone is forced to sacrifice their goals. I watched what happened when my mother was forced to choose between me and her dreams. She chose her dreams and I got left behind. And it crushed my soul.

  I won't let that happen to my children.

  48

  Walker

  I get home from a long day on the farm and Penny is at the stove, stirring a pot and shaking her butt to some loud, obnoxious music that fills the entire house. She turns and greets me with the prettiest smile and suddenly her music isn’t so obnoxious anymore.

  While the food cooks, she sits me in a kitchen chair and rubs the knots out of my tight shoulders. Over dinner, we keep the conversation light, playful, flirtatious.

  I’ve got a roaring fire going when she joins me in the living room after her evening shower. She used to be a night owl, but since she stopped tending bar at the Frosty Pitcher, she says that the cool water is the only thing that can keep her up past eight o’clock. Otherwise, she crashes right after dinner, curled up on the couch until I scoop her up and carry her to bed.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” She pinches the hem of the flannel shirt she’s wearing. “I feel like I’m always wearing your clothes because nothing I own fits anymore. This belly is growing way too big, way too quickly.” She titters and rubs her stomach affectionately. “Is this really what having twins is like? It seems like I went from having abs to not fitting into my jeans overnight.”

  My hot gaze sweeps her from top to bottom and I can’t lie. “You look perfect, Penn, as always.”

  Heat flashes through her features but she quickly drops her stare, avoiding what must be the predatory gaze on my face as I eat her up with my eyes.

  I’m still not sure where she stands on the topic of being in a relationship with me and although I have every intention of making her mine in the long run, I want to take it slow with the grand gestures. I don’t want to come on too strong and spook her if she’s not quite there yet. Because the last thing I want is for her to feel uncomfortable and pull away from me completely.

  But my self-restraint is wearing thin. I’m desperate to know where we stand.

  These past few days, I’ve been a patient man. I’ve taken my time with her. But every time I’ve tried to broach the topic of whether a relationship is in the cards for us, the woman has dodged the conversation like Neo dodging bullets in The Matrix. Often, this equated to her pouncing on me for sex. Lots of hot, sweaty, mind-blowing sex. Of course, I’ve been enjoying our physical connection. Our chemistry is off the chain but still, we need to talk about our future.

  Penny gingerly curls up on the floor at the foot of the couch and watches me toss a few final logs onto the fire. The weather is unseasonably warm. A blanket of rust-coloured leaves covers the lawn. Rain is coming down in sheets around the house, creating a mesmerizing effect. I grab a wool blanket from the arm of the rocking chair and wrap her in it to shield her from the cool evening air while the room warms up.

  “Sit with me.” She clasps the blanket around her shoulders with one hand and reaches out for me with the other. When she smiles that little smile at me, I have no choice but to oblige. I’d do anything she wants.

  If Penny smiled at me like that and asked me to steal the nuclear codes from Air Force One, I’d find a way to make it happen.

  I lower to the floor, pressing my shoulder blades against the seat of the couch. Penny rests her head on my shoulder and inhales. The quiet, satisfied sound she makes when she breathes me in sends a prod of lust through my cock.

  My large palm finds its way to her belly, gently resting there. I hope to god I’m not crossing a line by touching her like this. With Penny, I can’t tell where any of the lines are these days, if any of the lines even exist anymore.

  She calms my doubts when she gently drapes her arm around my waist and snuggles closer. So I let my hand wander some more.

  “Is this storm supposed to be a bad one?” she asks quietly, her eyes shifting to the ominous, dark clouds hanging in the west. “It’s been raining since lunch.”

  I lean my chin on the crown of her head. “Nah. But we do need this rain. The fields have been too dry.” Through the window, I see water splashing over everything as far as the eye can see. “The droughts can wreak havoc on the financials during the dry season so a bit of precipitation is welcome at this point.”

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nbsp; Her soft fingertips trail across my lower abdomen under my shirt, drawing a path along the waistband of my jeans. The tiny hairs in that region stand at attention under her touch. She’s fucking killing me. But I don’t want to be the one to jump her bones. Not tonight.

  “How was work today?” I ask instead. The major parts of my remodel are pretty much complete, aside from some small things here and there. Penny spent the day putting the very last finishing touches on my cabin. Artwork, vases, pillow cases.

  “Eh. My boss is a head trip. He’s given me zero direction and a limitless budget. I’m just trying not to go hog wild with his credit card,” she teases.

  I stretch out my legs in front of me and Penn eases back, just enough to tuck her feet into my lap.

  Feeling playful, I speak in a dignified tone. “Your boss sounds like a wealthy gentleman with a philanthropic streak.”

  She throws her head back and laughs at my corny joke. “To be honest, he probably won’t be wealthy for much longer…He has a habit of taking in freeloading guests…” She speaks in a playful tone but something in her voice tells me she’s not completely joking. I hate that she thinks she and the babies are a burden on me.

  I decide to keep it light. I pinch her gently on the hip. “If his guest would control her ridiculous pickle craving, the poor guy would probably be able to last a few months, at the very least.”

  I don’t get a second to process the ridiculousness of speaking about myself in the third person because at the mere mention of the pickles, Penny’s spine goes ramrod straight and she snaps her attention toward the kitchen, looking half-ready to run in there and count her condiment jars. “You know the rules. You do not speak about my pickles,” she threatens openly. “You do not even think about my pickles.”

  I hold my hands up in surrender. “I learned my lesson the last time.” I hid them once, just as a prank. The girl practically turned into the Hulk searching for them. I can barely keep from cracking up at the memory.

  Penny and I may be expertly avoiding the elephant in the room—my recent declaration of my intentions for us—but the mood has definitely lifted around here. It’s more playful. Plus, she doesn’t seem to feel the need to get dolled up all day long anymore. She allows herself to relax. She’s the only person I can be silly with and totally let loose with. We can just be…us.

  We’re good for each other. She sees that, right? She sees that we’d be happy together? If she gave us a chance?

  I’ve been an insecure wimp this past little while, overanalyzing her every stare, her every word, her every touch. I know something’s going on in her head but I can’t tell what it is.

  Is she trying to determine whether I was genuine when I said I want her? Or is she trying to decide whether she wants me too? The first option, I can handle. The second makes me nervous as shit.

  Penny is everything I could ever ask for.

  The person I come home to after a hard day on the farm.

  The person who tells me all about her ‘shitty boss’.

  The person who throws her feet up in my lap and laughs at my lame jokes as we snuggle in front of a fire.

  Everything I ever dreamed of is wrapped up in this one woman. My best friend in the whole damn world.

  Fuck. I’m trying to be patient with her but I won’t be able to hold my tongue for much longer. I’m contemplating the best way to diplomatically broach the topic when I feel a faint thump beneath my palm.

  Penny yips. “Whoa.” She sits up quickly and stares at me, wide-eyed.

  I stare right back, my brows dipped low. “What the hell was that?”

  “Did you feel it, too?” She places her hand next to mine on the lower part of her rounded belly.

  “Yeah,” I whisper, almost breathless. Afraid that if I speak or move or blink, this bubble of magic might pop. “Did the baby just—?”

  “Kick?” she nods, eyes wide. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

  Our fingers intertwine, still resting on her stomach, as we both wait patiently to feel the tiny, little nudge again. She snuggles closer to me as if to make sure I have the best vantage point to experience each kick together with her.

  And then it happens—another round of rhythmic thumping coming from inside her belly.

  A watery smile takes over her face, and I feel some type of emotion tickling the back of my own eyes.

  What the hell? What the hell is this magic?

  Penny’s face is alight with awe. “My sweet babies…” she says wistfully.

  “Our babies…” The words sneak past the leaky barrier I’ve built up in my brain.

  Penny’s gaze snaps up to mine. A guarded look comes over her face.

  I’m not backing down. Not this time. “Our babies, Princess.”

  She shrinks back and my hand falls. “Um, I just, um…I’ve got to go, uh…” She points vaguely in the direction of the kitchen before shifting onto all-fours and spinning around like a puppy searching for its tail. She braces the arm of the couch and rises to her feet then hurry-waddles out of the room.

  I grate my fingers along the back of my neck. Fuck.

  I follow after her. By the time I get to the kitchen, she’s in front of the fridge desperately stuffing pickles into her face.

  “You okay?” I plant an elbow on the appliance’s open door and lean over so we’re at eye level.

  She titters nervously. “Oh, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” With the jar clutched to her chest, she spins toward the bedroom.

  Frustration ignites in my chest. I’m tired of this game.

  I jog after her and gently catch her by the waist. Reluctantly, she slowly pivots around to face me. “What is it, Walker…?” she mutters like a pissed off teenager sentenced to a week of detention.

  I push out a breath. “Y’know what, let's just talk about this. Let's sit down like grown-ass adults and have a fucking conversation.” She grunts but I continue. “Because we've been best friends our whole lives yet I still feel like there's walls between us, P. We dance around each other and we let pride get in the way and we tell each other half-truths and I’m fucking sick of it.” I lower onto a stool by the counter, hoping she’ll follow my lead.

  She purses her lips, folds her arms over her chest and glares for a while, until she realizes I’m not backing down.

  She drags herself toward me and sits at the stool across from me. “What is it you so want to talk to me about?” Her tone is low, weary, like a person resigning to their fate.

  It’s the day of reckoning for all the carefree shit we’ve done over the past few months. The kissing, the touching, the nights spent tangled up in bed. Our transgressions are staring us in the face. We’ve been reckless. We thought there would be no consequences. But now our feelings have caught up to us. At least mine have.

  I run my palm over my skull. “Are we just gonna keep pretending that I didn’t tell you I want to be with you?”

  “Walker…” She tilts her head to the side. “We can’t do this.”

  “Why the heck not?” I take her hand. “I want us to be a family.”

  Her eyes flutter shut. She purses her lips and shakes her head. “That’s not what we agreed to.”

  “I don’t care what we agreed to. I wasn’t thinking straight when we had that conversation. I wasn’t thinking ahead. To the future. Our future.”

  “Don’t make this more complicated than it already is,” she begs. “Please.”

  “There’s nothing complicated about it. It’s fucking simple. I want to be your man.” I force her chin up with my finger. I force her to look at me. “And I want ‘us’, our little family. Donor arrangement or not, we did this.” I place a hand on her stomach. “It’s my DNA in those babies. We created this, together. And that feels real to me.”

  She throws up her arms and lets her palms slap against her thighs. “You’re oversimplifying everything,” she wails.

  “How?!”

  “You don’t see it. You’re doing what you always do. You think I�
��m in trouble, you think I’m in over my head and you’re trying to swoop in to save me. As usual. And I appreciate that.” She gently cups my cheek. “You have the biggest heart and I’m the luckiest gal in the world to have you in my corner. But you can’t be my hero this time, Big Man.”

  “What the hell are you saying, Princess?”

  “You told me point-blank that you don’t want to be a father, you don’t want children.”

  I shrug. “I changed my mind.”

  Penny chafes at my response. “Walker, if I wasn’t pregnant with these babies, you wouldn’t even be considering a relationship with me. I don’t want you to do this—the whole family thing—because you feel responsible for me and these children.” A tear forms in the corner of her eye. “You’re trying to save me. Like you always do. But this sacrifice is too big. I can’t ask you to sacrifice your dreams for me. Because you’re going to wake up one morning down the road, feeling like I used this pregnancy to trick you into a relationship, into a life you never wanted. I may not know a lot about relationships but I do know there’s a difference between you being in love with me and you wanting to play savior because you don’t think I can handle this on my own.”

  I’ll admit it—I’ve always pushed my way into the middle of her problems and sorted them out for her. She’s right about that. I can see why she might think that this situation is the same. But it isn’t. I want to share my life with her. How am I supposed to convince her of that?

  “That’s ridiculous, Penny. I…want…you…” I say the words slowly so they’ll sink into her stubborn head. “Is the concept so damn foreign to you?” Is the idea of someone loving you that farfetched? Did your mom fuck you up so bad that you feel completely unloveable? I feel raw and vulnerable when I speak again. “Or is it that you just can’t see yourself ever being with me?”

  Penny’s eyes glisten with tears as she slowly shakes her head. “Oh, Walker. What I feel for you, words can’t even begin to describe. What I feel for you is a big, ferocious, all-consuming feeling. A feeling that has chewed up and spit out my heart every single day for the past twenty years, at least. I won’t pull my kids into that. Yes—you are the man of my dreams but I need to be responsible here. I can’t just jump headfirst into this. We can’t do this, Walker.”