Sex, Vows & Babies: Claim Me, Baby (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Heather Stone

  “Fine.”

  “Fine,” she repeats. “I’ll see you later.”

  The line goes dead and I’m already wondering what the fuck I got myself into. As much as I don’t want to do this, it might be good to get out and slam back a few beers.

  Looking around, I realize that I have officially been stood up where this meeting is concerned. This douche bag stole my company out from under me and now has me all kinds of pissed. Yep, I just might start tying one on now, fuck it.

  3

  Kate

  It’s a quarter after one when we get to the mall. It’s late May and spring has sprung throughout North Platte, Nebraska. The birds chirp their sweet songs around us as we stroll through the parking lot. The sun is shining; it’s a beautiful day. I’m actually starting to think tonight might be a good thing. The abnormal eighty-degree weather that has graced us is welcomed and I feel like showing some skin and throwing back some beers.

  Andy directs us to JC Penney, since it’s one of the only department stores in this mall. After an hour of allowing her to play dress up with me as though I was her new favorite Barbie, we settle on two outfits. Little does she know that I was just placating her with the coral-colored harem dress she insisted I buy. First chance I get away from her, I will be returning that monstrosity.

  Don’t get me wrong; it was gorgeously form-fitting, hitting my curves in all the right places, but it was too revealing for me. I’m not ready to put myself on the menu. I’ve never felt so sexy, but I can’t help but feel like it just screams, “I’m desperate.” Smoking hot, but desperate.

  Instead, I talk her into easing me into the single life with the black pleated bodice jumpsuit paired with nude wedges. Just as hot in its own right, and more my pace.

  It shows just the right amount of skin. It’s strapless and accentuates every hard-earned curve. I grab a nude-colored leather bomber jacket to throw over it because regardless of what weather the day brings, the nights in Nebraska tend to get chilly fast.

  Five hundred dollars later we are walking out of the store. I’m experiencing my first bout of buyer’s remorse as I look at the receipt one final time just to establish that I indeed spent far too much money in one day. As if that wasn’t enough to do me in, I look up and my world begins to spin. My stomach turns and it feels like I’m on the fastest merry-go-round in existence, hanging on for dear life.

  Directly across from me, walking out of Rue 21, is my just barely ex-husband and his sinfully slutty sidekick. I truly feel like I’m going down as I break into a cold sweat and lurch forward. A quick visual of this blond bombshell modeling her skivvies to my husband, ex or not, makes my stomach roil again.

  When she sees me stumble, Andy grabs me by the waist, looking perplexed and concerned. I can only manage a nod in their direction.

  “Ugh, seriously? Can that man have any worse timing?” Andy is seething beside me. I have to calm her down or she is sure to make a scene.

  I give her a wan smile and straighten myself before he sees me and realizes that he still has an effect on me. Luckily, he is so oblivious to my existence he never even glances in my direction. I am so relieved. I don’t think I could’ve stomached even a courteous wave in his direction, especially while he’s arm in arm with her.

  “I mean seriously, what is he thinking? That girl can’t be much over twenty-one and she has absolutely nothing on you, Kate. I mean it, she’s nothing.”

  I can’t help but love Andy for trying to make me feel better, but we both know that Carly Grayson is gorgeous. Carly just so happens to be the tramp that Travis has stamped himself over. My daughter Ashlyn filled me in on her wannabe stepmom about a month ago. Ashlyn has always been my daughter that wants to know everything. Mandy on the other hand can’t be bothered to ask questions. Two sisters couldn’t have more different personalities.

  Apparently, she is barely over twenty-one. She dropped out of college recently to begin a career in “acting,” imagine that. I bet she’s getting good at faking orgasms with the dipshit. Travis was terribly lazy in bed, making for some long, drawn-out sexual experiences, and not in a good way.

  Travis has alluded to the fact that Ms. Grayson would love nothing more than to change her last name to Stone. The thought of sharing my name with that woman sends a whole new bout of nausea through me. I just might have to do myself a favor and go back to my maiden name of Cooper.

  “Katelyn Cooper” always had a ring to it. I thought that I would keep my name when I married, but Travis was appalled by that idea. He thought it was a slap in the face that I didn’t want to take his. So here I am, newly single and stuck with the bitter taste that “Stone” creates on my lips. Tonight, I’m going to be Kate Cooper. She’s a lot more fun.

  “I think I’m going to need to start this night sooner rather than later,” I mutter, mostly to myself, but Andy hears me and doesn’t miss a beat.

  “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get this show on the road.”

  Andy and I get going and do our best to avoid a run-in with my serpent of an ex. We are fortunate enough to get out of Dodge without so much of another glimpse of him.

  Earlier, I had broken down and returned my mother’s umpteen calls. She did me a solid and offered to drop the girls off at Travis’s tonight, saving me from having to subject myself to the sight of him for a second time today. It also allowed me ample time to get ready for the impending shit show. After the events of today, there is no way this night is going to end without some sort of embarrassing display, compliments of Kate Stone, neé Cooper.

  I have no built-up tolerance for alcohol and my body is already craving the quenching taste of that cold liquid sliding down my throat.

  The only way for me to avoid a catastrophe is to do myself a favor and call in sick to Andy. Knowing her, she’d drive all the way to drag my sorry ass out the door, dressed or not. So I’ll just deal with the fact that there is no way around this and promise myself to take it easy.

  I look in the mirror and am surprised by the person staring back at me. I’m impressed with what a little Jane Iredale cosmetics and a good face brush can do. Slipping into my sexy-but-not-my-thing jumpsuit, I marvel at what a difference a few months at the gym and martial arts has made on my body. My abs, butt, thighs, and arms are all toned and cooperating perfectly with this number.

  For once I’m feeling confident in my skin, and it is unfamiliar terrain for me. I give a quick smile in the mirror and blow myself a kiss right as the doorbell rings.

  I open the door to find a scantily clad Andy holding a bottle of liquor.

  “Pre-game cocktails, bee-yotch! Where are the glasses,” she says as she walks right past me into the kitchen.

  She has on a yellow dress that ends just past her butt. If she bends over the whole world will know the answer to “Bikini or g-string?” Who am I kidding, she’s probably flying commando. The girl has no shame, and why should she.

  The open sleeves of the dress show just enough skin and her patent nude pumps help give the illusion that her legs never end.

  All my insecurities come back in full force as I look at Andy. Gone is that confident woman I was staring at through the mirror only moments ago. I no longer want to go anywhere. Maybe I can get her drunk enough on her pre-game drinks that she’ll pass out and we can nix going out.

  “Jamie is going to meet us there. Brian wants her to come home after Jumpin’ Jacks, so she thinks it’s best that she has her own vehicle. Which is totally fine, since I’m not leaving early so she can get home to him. They are always up each other’s ass. It’s pathetic, if you ask me.”

  “We could call her and have her come here. You know, girls’ night in,” I say, knowing full well it’ll go down like vinegar to Andy. She rolls her eyes.

  “You wish you were getting out of this that easy.” She winks at me and I know that battle was lost before it had even begun.

  After an hour of drinking and me sneaking to the kitchen to chase away the José with water, we
are finally on our way out the door. Regardless of my attempts at staying ahead of the buzz, I am feeling my inhibitions fall away and not so gracefully, might I add. If I even make it to the bar, it will be a miracle.

  4

  Jack

  What the fuck just happened? I come to this dive bar expecting a surprise birthday party for my ex and instead get to witness her getting engaged? I mean, I’m cool with them getting serious and all, but Blake could’ve warned me about what I was walking into. This is the second time he’s let news reach me by way of an asskicking. I haven’t dated a girl since Christy, and it never occurred to him that I might not be ready to witness this? God, I need new friends.

  Maybe I should acquaint Blake with my fist. I might feel a lot better after the shit day I’ve had. As much as I would love to send a message to the happy couple, it’s not worth it. Blake’s tall and scrawny. One punch and he’d hit the floor and wouldn’t get up.

  He played basketball all through high school and went on to play in college. A full ride to Syracuse and an accounting degree had made Christy’s panties drop.

  She was a money chaser. Didn’t matter that I was her first love, if I wasn’t making bank, she wanted out. I thought I loved her, but it wasn’t love, it was simply lust.

  Everything was good when I went to Ball State on a partial baseball scholarship. As a freshman, I was being scouted for the pros. The MLB was a real possibility, and that worked just fine with Christy’s future plans. When my arm blew out and all hope of a major league career was gone, so was she. Christy ran to her backup plan, Blake.

  The only thing that had kept me going was that my heart was set on running Kincaid and Son. I preferred handling tools so building houses sounded better to me than a baseball glove, anyway. Plus, I didn’t like the idea of living on the road. There were other plans for me and I accepted that. Little did I know my dad was in negotiations to have someone else run Kincaid and Son.

  When Dad found out I left school, he went ahead and finalized the plans to hand over Kincaid and Son temporarily. Instead of proving to him I had what it took, I fell into a dark hole of women and booze. I hadn’t learned that you can’t run a business being at the bar every night until close. I was still living my college baseball life and I learned a little late that I had to grow up.

  Between not getting the business as I expected and then Christy dumping me, I began my foray into bedding half of the city. It was my intention to leave the bar every night of the weekend with someone different on my arm as a big fuck-you to Christy. She never seemed to care, but I didn’t stop. And now, I was suffering the consequences.

  As I stand on the outskirts of the happy couple’s engagement party, I see Julia eyeing me curiously. I think she’s concerned I’m about to snap. She walks over to me.

  “You okay? I swear I had no idea that he was going to do that here, tonight. If I had, I wouldn’t have talked you into coming.” Her sympathetic tone is annoying me.

  “It’s fine,” I lie. “They’ve been together for two years, it was bound to happen sooner or later. I’m over her. Have been. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

  She narrows her eyes at me.

  “Are you over her?” My sister’s frown has me straightening. “You’re not acting like you’re okay with this.”

  I sigh. “Jules. I’m fine with them being together, but this was a bit much. I can’t say I was prepared for all of this.” She nods.

  “Well, let me buy ya a drink,” she says finally. “You look like you need another.”

  “Let the bartender know to just keep ‘em coming.” I roll my hands in front of me for emphasis. “The only way to stomach this is to do it shit-faced.”

  “Just don’t go getting all crazy and confessing your undying love to Christy, or worse, start beatin’ on Blake’s ass,” she warns. Not unnecessarily.

  “No chance. She’s just an old friend now and Blake is too easy a target. I don’t make a habit of picking fights with people who can’t defend themselves.” We both laugh because it’s the truth. “Blake’s a good guy and one of my oldest friends. I’m letting the past lie and moving on. They obviously have.”

  If that’s true, then why do the words taste like vinegar coming out of my mouth?

  “Okay, whatever you say.” She winks and then heads to the bar.

  5

  Kate

  Jumpin’ Jacks is a dive bar in the middle of nowhere. The outside is falling apart, the brown paint chipping off the walls. There is one sign hanging above the door indicating that this is Jumpin’ Jacks. The light that illuminates this piece designated to welcome us flickers on and off, giving us the impression that we are about to be the victims of a homicide upon entrance.

  Its appearance alone would be enough to scare off most people, but to me, this bar feels like home. I’m feeling nostalgic, as this place looks just like the country bar my friends and I used to frequent well before we were of age. They never carded and couldn’t care less how old you were, as long as you had a valid driver’s license and there were no signs of the police.

  There was never a worry of that here. Our town was lucky enough to have one police car patrolling at night, let alone sending one five miles out to the sticks. Heaven forbid you had a real emergency out in the boonies. You might as well roll over and die because that’s what’s going to happen anyway before they get someone out there to you.

  Andy steps inside and I follow. Immediately, I see Jamie across the room waving us over to a high-top table. She has always been punctual. It wouldn’t surprise me if she has been here the past half hour waiting for us. Later, she’ll use it as her excuse to leave before we do.

  Jamie Herr is a petite brunette with large brown eyes that are to die for. Her body is built like a shit brickhouse due to years of marathon training and gymnastics in high school. I watch as her head bobs around in excitement, but not a hair moves out of place. The trendy shoulder-length bob she sports is longer in the front and is always lying perfectly. You can tell Jamie gets out about as much as I do. She has a beer and a shot of tequila for each of us ready to go.

  “Seriously, why do I let you two talk me into this shit?” I say with no real conviction as Andy rolls her eyes at me.

  “What else would you be doing but moping around your house, sipping wine through your straw, feeling sorry for yourself for the sixth month in a row?” She purses her lips and widens her eyes.

  “It’s time to let loose, get back in the game, girl,” Jamie adds.

  “She’s right. You’re not getting any younger and these men just keep getting hotter—wow. Four o’clock against the wall, holy shit.” Andy’s words trail off.

  Andy has never lacked appreciation for the male of the species. In fact, her constant hormonal overdrive has been a concern to me for years. The fact that she has not contracted an STD has me amazed. Her ogling has just been the catalyst for some major sexual wins in the bedroom. Every guy she sleeps with seems to fall head over heels after the first night. She is a man-eater, heartbreaker, and vixen rolled into one.

  I don’t even bother looking. I’d go as far as saying that we have polar opposite tastes in men. She tends to like them medium build, light hair, tanned skin, and dressed like they are stepping out of the Wild West, true cowboy style, or rockin’ tats and piercings. Either way, bad boy/alpha male is her type.

  I, on the other hand, love my men tall, dark, and handsome, sporting a suit and tie. Maybe that’s my problem. I’m interested in the wrong type of man. Maybe I should take Andy’s advice and go for the opposite of what attracts me, can’t hurt at this point. But no, I’m not ready, and even if I were, Andy would be the last person I’d let pick my next conquest.

  Who am I kidding? Conquest? More like companion. I’ve never been good at the one-night stands or playing hard-to-get thing. Besides, overeager “I-love-yous” mostly turn into nothing more than infatuation.

  This guy Andy’s ogling must be worth the look, gauging by Jamie’s open
mouth and giggling under her breath. What the hell, she’s never like this. She is the poster child for how to make a marriage work. She and Brian have been married for almost ten years and have three little girls who are the center of their universe. I’ve never seen two people more in love. It’s sickening, mostly. To see her so worked up over a man makes me curious to see what the fuss is about.

  Turning far too eagerly, I manage to take my drink right along with me. The contents spill all over me and then the floor.

  “Shit! Grab some napkins,” I yell.

  Why the hell am I such a glutton for punishment?

  I take the only napkins we have at the table and try to stop the remainder of my beer from adding to the mess already on the floor.

  “What a mess! I’m sorry I’m such a klutz.” Andy and Jamie can’t stop laughing at my expense. The whole place is watching us. I can feel all eyes on me. I bend to attempt to clean up the puddle on the floor when I finally see why half of the female population in the bar has their panties in a twist.

  He is directly across from me standing against the wall, arms crossed and staring right at me. A sexy grin creeps up his face, causing the dimples on his cheeks to explode. I feel my face turn red and I can’t help but give a goofy starstruck smile back. My God.

  Ugh, I just made the biggest ass of myself. He has to be at least ten years my junior. I am somehow able to memorize just about every god-like feature he possesses.

  His broad shoulders and the way his chest rises and falls lead me to believe he is an athlete. Gorgeous blue eyes matched with raven hair, so black there is almost a hint of blue. He is a true Adonis and I am in no way his Aphrodite.

  I force myself to look away. God, I have to look like such an idiot. I head toward the restroom without so much as a glance in his direction. Complete. Mortification.

  I hear Andy yell, “Where the hell are you going?”