Baby's Daddy: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Aubrey Wright

  “I hate that place. I’m not going back.”

  “Come on. You grew up there. It can’t be that bad.”

  “No, I—”

  “No! You no! You’ve done enough. If you give a shit about those precious kids you mentor, you’ll get on that plane.”

  It happened so fast, I didn’t know what hit me. I had counted on my dad not being home. Thank god for that. I hadn’t seen him in eleven years, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Wouldn’t know what to say to him, anyway. He’d always been an invisible parent. Well, after I turned eighteen and Mom up and left us on some Eat, Pray, Love-type escape to Sri Lanka or India or wherever. I didn’t even know where she was. And honestly, I didn’t care.

  I hadn’t thought about anyone from my past for eleven years. Except Liv. Occasionally. She was the only thing good I’d left behind.

  Shit. I peeled the plastic wrapping off the popcorn pack and threw it in the microware, not even daring to look for the expiration date. That was the only edible thing in the house, and that’s what I was eating. I knew damned well what would happen if I took a trip to the grocery store.

  People would find out I was in Ashland. By the time I woke up tomorrow morning, the press would be here. There’d be an army of paparazzi outside wanting answers. Knowing me, I’d blubber some bullshit like I always did. I didn’t give a shit about those reporters or what they said. They pissed me off with their prying questions about my personal life.

  Eleven years ago, right after my eighteenth birthday, I’d decided to not give two fucks about anyone anymore. It wasn’t worth the trouble.

  But seeing Liv hadn’t been the normal, zero-emotional-impact meeting I’d expected.

  Dammit, did she have to be naked?

  Her breasts were fuller, riper than I remembered. Well, she was eighteen the last time I saw her naked. It was the night before I left for college.

  I realized that I’d completely fucking forgotten what real breasts looked like. I’d gotten so accustomed to seeing those hard-as-calves tits on women, I’d been amazed with the anomaly Liv had on her chest.

  Small, soft, feminine breasts. The peak lifted with a bright pink nipple.

  Stop doing that to yourself, you fucker. Liv is married. Liv is married. Liv is married.

  The rant in my head continued.

  Not just married, by the way. “Liv is a mom too,” I confided in the microwave as it made strange, grating sounds and its light inside flickered on and off.

  “The fuck, Dad?” I slapped the microwave. “This is exactly the same microwave I used when I was in tenth grade.”

  My phone rang, and I snatched it off the kitchen island, almost laughing in relief. “Diane! Darling, get me the fuck out of here, for Christ’s sake.”

  “Not so fast. We need to keep you there.”

  “Keep me here? What am I a pet? I’m a big boy. I choose.”

  “I choose.”

  “Diane—”

  “You know the shit you say to reporters. It’s no wonder they fucking hate you. What went down at your Bellevue place is all over the news. You’ve seen it.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass, and you know it. I only came here because you’re more friend than publicist, and I assumed you were doing it for my own good.” I laughed mirthlessly, glancing around at the antiquated electronics and disintegrating furniture. “I seriously doubt that now. This place is worse than I remembered, and I’m done. I’m so done.”

  “You just got there, Jax. What’s it been, two hours?”

  “Two hours too long. I’m stuck here with moldy food. The shower in the bathroom is all clogged with god knows what. It’s basically dripping four droplets on me. And—” I just ran into my ex-girlfriend. While she was naked. And I need to get away from her married ass. “And, well. I’m done.”

  “Just ask your dad to go grab some food.”

  I scoffed. “I only came here ’cause I knew Dad would be at some meet-with-Jesus retreat in the middle of nowhere. Listen, I’ve booked a suite in Cincinnati, and—”

  Diane’s laugh at the other end cut me off. “No, you haven’t. They’ll recognize you the moment you walk in.”

  “I don’t care!”

  “Hang in there, Jax. Just a few days. I’m trying to figure things out. You care about the kids you mentor, don’t you?”

  I sighed, pushing a hand through my hair and resisting the urge to yank it all out in frustration. “Well, yeah.”

  “So, the drug-fueled orgy that’s all over the papers isn’t really helping that cause. You think they’ll let you mentor those kids just because you sponsor their sports academies? Doubt it. No. You’ve pissed off reporters for the last five years. All because you don’t care, and you make it a point of letting them know. They’re trying to make sure you never get within a few feet of those kids.”

  “That’s bullshit they’re playing with. You know what went down at that ‘orgy.’ It has nothing to do with me.”

  “Would you rather tell them the truth about where you were that night?”

  No way in hell.

  “I’d rather stab myself in the eye with one of these rusty icepicks my dad left on his counter.”

  “Exactly. So shut up and suck it up. It’s only for a few weeks.”

  “Weeks! You’ve got to be—”

  “Okay, days. Days! Just calm your shit, and stay put. Call a friend and ask them to help out with the food situation. Or don’t eat. What can I say? You’re a big boy. You can handle it.”

  “Ugh.” My long, drawn-out groan didn’t make it to Diane. She hung up on me.

  I drew my arm back to hurl my phone at the wall then stopped. This was my only contact with modern civilization, the only escape from the pit of hell that was my hometown. I carefully put the phone down on the kitchen island, already wishing for it to ring again.

  The microwave was quiet. I opened the door and grimaced, expecting an un-popped bag. “Oh, you work.”

  I sniffed the popcorn then tossed a kernel into my mouth. I shrugged and took it to my bedroom, which was exactly the same as I remembered it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Dad had kept it exactly like that for me to return. But I doubted it. He’d probably shut the door on his son’s old room and let it be. Dad didn’t give a shit about me. He was all about church and God and charity and giving back. His son could all but rot alone in the house, with a Mom who’d just run away.

  I still remembered what Mom said: “I stayed eighteen years for you, Jax. I’m done. I’m out. I’m free.”

  Free. Like she’d been trapped with me in this house. Her eyes shone when she left. She wished me a happy birthday, and out she went. Then Dad disappeared too—his coping mechanism or whatever.

  In this house, I’d had a close-knit family for eighteen years. In the same house, I’d spent eight months of hell. All alone. No Mom. No Dad. I’d vowed to leave and never return.

  Well, you’re back now. I sighed at my surroundings.

  The popcorn left a bad aftertaste on my tongue, but I kept eating it.

  I lay on my side on the bed, staring at the window that looked out to Brodey’s house. Well, Liv’s house now. The house where she fucked Brodey. Made that beautiful little girl with Brodey.

  A flash of fury made me want to find Brodey and punch his nose in. Could he find no one else to marry but my Liv?

  “Some best friend.” I shoved a handful of popcorn in my mouth. “Asshole,” I mumbled at his house.

  Liv was right there, feet from me. And she knew I was here.

  Goddammit. She’s so hot.

  She’d always had a bit of a temper. But it was cute. We always argued, then forgot about it the next time we met. She was my best friend. The only person I’d counted on when my life had turned upside down at my eighteenth birthday.

  After I got to college, I’d missed her—for a few weeks. But then shit got real. Practice, the never-ending battle to maintain my GPA to keep my scholarship. It was a spiral of panic. And, well, girls.


  College girls really did dig a football player. I had no plans to bog myself down with a girlfriend, so there was always a new girl standing outside my dorm room, wanting to stay the night.

  I glanced sideways again, shoving another handful of popcorn in my mouth. Liv.

  Liv always knew what to say to fix me. How to make me feel better when I raged at the world and my parents. She was impulsive as hell, though. I could always trust her to do the most irrational things when she was stressed.

  I chuckled as my mind did an HD rerun of the look on her face when she’d found me in the kitchen. I’m sure I looked worse because she was pretty much naked. Her towel clutched to her navel in her panic and letting her breasts hang free.

  “Ugh.” My cock hardened in my slacks. I clutched it through the fabric and shifted it sideways so it wouldn’t stand upright and strain against my pants. My other hand grabbed my forehead and squeezed my temples.

  She’s married, you stupid fucker. Don’t you get a hard-on for a married woman. A mom!

  But the more I tried to erase the image of her full breasts from my mind, the more crazily consumed I became. Until I was so fucking turned-on, a strange buzz sizzled all over my skin.

  Fuck you, Liv. I stormed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Nothing came. “Dammit!” I yelled, slapping a hand against the tile. The water dribbled on my naked body. On one shoulder. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and shook my head as I watched the water trickle over my shoulder. Then I glanced down at my pulsating, hard cock, standing upright, pointing in the direction of Liv’s house.

  This is messed up.

  I put my clothes back on and fell back in bed, on my back this time because my cock was in the way.

  Think about something else. Anything but the married mother next door.

  Liv is off-limits, you stupid ass. Stop doing this to yourself.

  My eyes snapped open. That look on her face, while she was half-naked, standing dumbstruck in her kitchen? Liv wasn’t happy to see me. She wasn’t even surprised. She couldn’t get rid of me fast enough.

  Liv was angry. From the moment she saw me, she was livid. Then she’d all but thrown me out of her house. Why?

  As far as I remembered it, we’d had an amazing high school romance. While it lasted, anyway.

  But now, all these years later, she hated me. She simply hated me.

  3

  Liv

  I spotted him staring at me through his kitchen window.

  Why was he looking at me like that?

  Unlike my kitchen, which was located at the back of my house, Jax’s dad’s kitchen was at the front. That’s where he stood, like a statue.

  I unlocked my car and clutched the handle, glaring at him from my driveway. “Stop it!” I mouthed at him.

  Jax shrugged and lifted both hands in question, like, “What did I do?”

  I pointed to my eyes with two fingers then mouthed again, “Stop looking at me!”

  He shrugged again.

  “Oh goddammit.” I slammed the car door shut and stormed over to his front door. I’d lifted my fist to smack it hard against the wooden door, but strong fingers grabbed my wrist instead, pulling me inside the house and closing the door behind me.

  “What are you doing?” I asked as I stumbled inside.

  “I don’t get your signals. You know that. You used to do the same haphazard hand signs from the bleachers while I played, and I told you back then too.”

  “I said stop it. This means—” I gestured again. “This means stop it. Obviously, what else could it mean?”

  “Stop what?”

  “Stop, you know.” I groaned. “Looking at me! Why are you creeping at me through the window like that?”

  He opened his mouth then shut it. I watched his golden eyes slide over my face, down to my shoulders and my tits.

  “Really? You’re not even looking at an acceptable spot on my body right now. Here. Here’s my face.”

  “I wasn’t staring at you. I was washing the dishes.”

  I glanced at the sink. A mug, a lone mug inside. “A dish, you mean. That’s one mug.”

  “Well, I was standing here, and you were leaving. Coincidence. Where are you going, anyway? It’s Saturday.”

  “I work Saturdays. Some of us need to, you know?”

  “Can you not motion to me from outside like that? No one can know I’m here. I can’t deal with the people here.”

  I stared at him, and laughter bubbled up inside me. “Why do you think anyone gives a shit about you?”

  “Because.”

  “Because what?”

  “Because people do?”

  I shook my head. “Get you head out of your ass. Go out and catch up with friends or whatever. Stop creeping me out.” I reached for the door and yanked it open. “This whole thing is driving me crazy. When are you leaving, anyway? Soon, I hope?”

  “That really makes me feel welcome.”

  “No one owes you a hero’s welcome, Jax. You’re an ass! Don’t you forget it.”

  “Guess what? I don’t want to be in this shithole. And I really don’t get why you want to.”

  I slammed the door shut and hurried to my car. I didn’t want to look back at him, but I did. Secretly, I really did want to. He looked too damn good no matter what he said or what he did or what he wore. Or didn’t wear.

  Yeah, he looked good naked. Really good. The kind of good that no other man had ever managed. There was a strange electric charge that filled the space between Jax and me when we were in close proximity. I didn’t get it. I was trying to invert that electric charge—probably sexual—into anger. I didn’t know what else to do.

  One look at him, and I was a lovesick sixteen-year-old. Murmuring, “I love you.” Holding his arm wherever we went, to tell the world he was mine.

  In the end, Jax didn’t want to be mine. He brushed me off his arm like I was a fly buzzing too loud, and off he went.

  Over the years, I’d had to watch Jax—on TV, in magazines, all over the internet—with models and actresses clinging to his arm. All while I raised a child on my own. His child, on my own.

  It was hard, especially during the first few years. My mom was sick, and the hospital bills kept coming even when the money didn’t.

  But I’d broken the surface of the hard times drowning me.

  I parked my car across from the bakery I’d opened up seven years ago. Funky Bake had started at home, where I’d baked all my favorite sweet treats and sold them in the neighborhood. Mrs. Connelly, the pastor’s wife, had lent me the money I needed to set up a bakery. I still couldn’t believe the response it got. Within a year, I’d expanded to include a second location. This business was my second baby.

  Clara was getting out of her car as I made my way in. Saturday was our catch-up day.

  Squinting in the sun, I waited for Clara to get to me. Her big, bleached blonde hair was too big. I knew exactly what was in there. Half a can of hairspray at all times. I’d tried touching it. It was crunchy and hard—just the way the feisty Latina liked it. Clara was manager at the only art gallery in town. She had Saturdays off, so she helped me out with my weekend order barrage at Funky Bake.

  “Wow. Liv. You look like shit.”

  My smile evaporated. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. My expert beauty radar tells me you didn’t sleep well last night.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. I shrugged and went inside. I needed to get things off my chest before I could focus on work.

  “Come here.” I dragged Clara to a small corner table. I couldn’t stop cracking my fingers.

  She stared at my hands. “Slow down before they fall off. You okay? Is it Anna?”

  “Anna’s fine. I’m fine. Actually, I’m not. Something’s happened.”

  Clara’s brows popped up almost high enough to meet her crisp hairline. Her heavy fake eyelashes fluttered as she waited.

  “Something terrible.”

  “Spit it out alrea
dy! What’s with the dramatics?”

  I jumped at her outburst. “He’s back. Jax.”

  “Jax?” Clara whirled around to scan the bakery. “Where?”

  “No. He’s staying at his dad’s house. Well, he’s hiding, I think. He won’t step foot outside. He’s probably starving in there. We both know John doesn’t stock food at his house. All Jax is probably eating is popcorn and peanut butter sandwiches. If he’s lucky.”

  “And you fucked him? God!”

  I jolted, and snorted as a chuckle burst out of me.

  “Liv, I don’t know how to react to that, so I’ll say this: Are you out of your fuckin’ mind? How could you sleep with him when he broke your heart?”

  “I didn’t. Why would I fuck him? I just saw him. Then he broke into my house. I was half naked. Like, literally,” I stammered, staring at my nails. “He looked really good.”

  “Of course he did. He’s a handsome devil. Why were you naked, though?”

  “It doesn’t matter. The problem is, he saw Anna’s picture.”

  “Oh! Fuck.” I jumped as Clara’s fist slammed on the table. “Anna! We forgot about Anna!”

  I rolled my eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Clara. Of course I didn’t forget about Anna. I made John promise that he wouldn’t tell Jax about Anna. Jax saw a picture on my fridge. Where Anna was six. So obviously, if he sees Anna now—a ten-year-old?”

  “He might connect the dots.”

  I twisted my fingers harder, making them crackle with muted popping sounds. “Not just her age. Have you not noticed she’s got the same dark hair as Jax? And those golden eyes. She’s a tiny version of him wearing unicorn dresses and headbands.”

  Clara leaned back in her chair, shaking her head. “So you’ll tell him?”

  “I can’t. I won’t. Why should I?”

  “You know I hate Jax. I was there when he dumped—left—you, I mean. Not left you, like left for college.”

  “Oh, whatever. Stop stuttering. He dumped me. You know it. I know it. Can you move on to whatever you were suggesting I do?”