Be My Baby

by Airicka Phoenix

  Lily, actually, after Jared had explained the situation. But he had also sworn not to tell Calla anything.

  “No idea what you’re talking about.” He straightened his shoulders. “Are you ready to go?”

  Grinning in silent amusement, Calla nodded. “Yes.” Her gaze went to the bouquet in his arms. “Are those for me?”

  He’d forgotten all about the roses getting crushed in his grasp. He offered them to her and watched as she gathered the bouquet to her chest and buried her face into the satiny blooms. Her eyes closed and she inhaled deeply. The paper crackled as she drew away.

  “They’re so beautiful,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

  Turning, she moved back into her apartment. Jared watched the shimmer of the fabric with every swish of her hips. He stayed in the doorway, not trusting himself not to gather her up into his arms and demand to know where the bedroom was. Every animalistic bone in his body prowled with the need to claim her, to strip her of her clothes and worship every inch of her. He could think of no better way to spend the night than to lose himself deep inside her.

  “Ready?” She was back, coat on, a tiny clutch gripped between her fingers.

  Jared could only nod and move back into the hallway. She locked up and took the arm he offered. Her nails were a harsh contrast to the dark material of his coat. He led her downstairs and paused at the apartment steps. He glanced down at the strappy black heels on her feet, then at the truck parked across the lot.

  “Hang on,” was all the warning he gave her before bending at the waist and sweeping her up into his arms bridal-style.

  Her yelp of surprise was followed by the tight band of her arms around his neck. Her laugh warmed the side of his face. She smelled soft and sweet, and he wondered if that scent dusted the full length of her.

  At the truck, she yanked open the door and he gingerly set her down into the seat. He shut her in and hurried to his side. The cabin still held the lingering warmth of his arrival mingled with the fading fragrance of roses, but he still reached into the back and tugged out the blanket.

  “I’m okay,” she assured him. “Thank you.”

  He left the soft wool draped over the seat, just in case she changed her mind, and reversed out of the parking spot.

  The drive was done in a near silence that was broken only by the roar of the engine and the grinding of snow under the tires. He wondered if he should turn the radio on, but opted against it, just in case she decided she had something to say. But she didn’t and they arrived at the church. Jared tried to get as close to the steps as possible before hopping out and circling around to her door. She thanked him and accepted the hand he offered to help her onto the pavement. Hers was tiny engulfed in his. Soft and too fragile. He almost hated to let it go.

  “Would you like me to wait for you?” she asked, standing too close, close enough so she was forced to tilt her head far back to meet his gaze, close enough so their fronts just brushed.

  “No.” He forced himself to relinquish his hold on her. “Get inside. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  She hesitated. For a moment, he thought she would refuse. But her head gave the slightest nod and then she was turning away. He watched her climb all the way to the top and disappear inside before leaving to park the truck.

  The church was filled with smiling and happy people. Most he knew by sight. Others took him a minute longer to place. But the only face he cared to find in the sea of faces was surrounded by a small flock of admirers.

  Someone had taken her coat and the vultures had descended. Men of all ages leaned in far too close to admire the tiny blonde in their clutches. Jared wasn’t naturally a jealous person, but even he couldn’t stave off the sudden impulse to march over and punch someone in the mouth. Yet he resisted. Not because of some higher moral calling, but because he found it inexplicably amusing. Maybe it was arrogance, but he didn’t care if they looked. At the end of the night, Calla was his. She may not go home with him that night, but she would eventually. She would be a tangled, breathless, and sated mess in his arms and they would only have a memory of her while he would have all of her. He was fine with that, so long as they didn’t touch. He wasn’t sure how well his moral compass would hold up if they put their fingers on what was his.

  “Jared?”

  The familiar chuckle pulled him around to face the beaming brunette and the brooding man behind her.

  “Mom.” He pulled the tiny woman into his arms. Then stepped back and offered his father his hand. “Dad. I didn’t know you guys would be here.”

  “Your mother made me,” his father grumbled, not bothering to keep his voice low.

  His mother swatted at him. “Stop it, Marvin. How often do we get to put on pretty clothes?”

  His father pursed his mouth. “Too damn often the way people are getting married lately.”

  His mother ignored him and faced Jared once more. “How are you, darling? We haven’t seen you in ages. You should really come by for dinner this weekend.”

  “I go to the McClain’s on the weekend,” he reminded her kindly.

  “Yes, but maybe one night,” she prodded. “You should bring that girl you’re seeing … Darcy.”

  “Denise,” he corrected. “And we’re not together anymore.”

  His mother’s round shoulders drooped. Her mouth drew into a pout.

  “Oh no!” she cried. “That’s terrible. I was so hoping this would be the one.”

  That was his mother’s wish with every girl Jared had ever dated.

  “Willa was in town,” he said, hoping to distract the woman with a topic as equally important as her need for grandchildren; his mother adored Willa. Jared had a feeling that if Damon hadn’t staked such a huge claim on the pint-sized McClain, his mother would demand Jared propose and make her an official Dumont.

  “Aw, how is Willa?” she asked, genuinely concerned. “Last time I saw her, she was this scrawny thing.”

  Jared laughed. “She’s still a scrawny thing, but she’s fine.”

  “And how’s Damon? He must miss her something awful.”

  “Yes, he does.”

  His mother made that love struck, sappy sigh expression women were so good at pulling off.

  “They are just too adorable. Aren’t they adorable, Marvin?”

  His father, who had been busy tugging at his tie, glowered. “Sickeningly so.”

  His mother ignored him yet again. “Did you come alone? We have an extra spot and there’s someone I have been dying for you to—”

  “I didn’t, actually,” Jared cut in before he found himself forced between his mother and some girl his mother thought would be perfect for him.

  As if on cue, Calla appeared at his elbow. She smiled beautifully at his parents.

  “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Dumont.” Her smile broadened. “You both look stunning tonight.”

  His mother, catching the scent of prospect, immediately leaped on the opportunity to get her twenty-one year old son married and breeding.

  “Calla! Oh, sweetheart, look at you!” She curled her fingers around Calla’s arms and dragged her forward so she stood in the middle of a triangle. “Ugh! I miss the days I could pull off wearing something like that. But goodness, you are a sight.”

  Calla chuckled. “Thank you. Jared actually picked it out.”

  His mother’s big, brown eyes blinked rapidly. “Did he now?” She glanced past Calla to study her son. “Well, that was certainly nice of him. I never realized what impeccable taste you had, darling.”

  It had nothing to do with taste, Jared wanted to tell her. But then he’d have to explain that the motives behind his selection was solely for the purpose of seeing Calla in as little as possible. Somehow, as elated as his mother would be, Calla might not share her sentiments.

  “I try,” was all he said.

  Beaming, she went back to looking Calla over. “You are just gorgeous,” she said. “You better hold on to this one, sweetheart.”

  Jared took Ca
lla’s hand and tugged her into his side. “That’s the plan.”

  Next to him, Calla shifted uncomfortably. “We should find our seats.”

  After promising to find them at the reception, Jared guided Calla in the direction of their seats. But not before they heard his mother say, “They will make such beautiful babies! Don’t you think so, Marvin?”

  “I’m really sorry about that.” Jared motioned Calla into the pew first. “My mom seems to think she’s going to die without grandchildren, just because all her friend’s kids are having babies.”

  Calla shook her head, but at least she was grinning. “I get it. It’s fine.”

  They sat in the stiff, cold bench and waited for everyone around them to do the same. Calla sat straight up and tense, like someone had forced a ruler against her spine. Jared wondered if that was because of the dress, or because she was still uneasy about his mother’s fawning.

  “Okay?”

  She grimaced and tilted her head to him. “I forgot to bring a shawl,” she said quietly. “The wood is cold.”

  It was some relief it was the dress, because that he could fix.

  Carefully, he slid his arm around her waist and dragged her comfortably into him so her bare back was cradled against his side. That also meant he had to support her weight and he sure didn’t mind that at all.

  “Jared…” Her breathless whisper caressed every fine nerve-ending in his body, making him painfully aware of her heat, her scent, and the torturous closeness of her mouth mere inches from his. “People will get the wrong idea.”

  It took all his willpower not to smudge her lipstick with a kiss that would definitely not be appropriate for church.

  “What exactly is the wrong idea?” he wondered instead. “That I want you? That I want to kiss you and touch you and completely own every inch of you?” Her sharp little gasp tickled his mouth and chin, fueling him to continue. “Then they wouldn’t be very wrong, would they?”

  The point of her pink tongue worked over the full fold of her bottom lip in a nervous glide that tugged at the pit of his stomach.

  “Please don’t do this.”

  The quiet plea ripped at his heart.

  “Do what?”

  Rather than answer him, her back rose against his shoulder and fell just as quickly. She lowered her gaze to the hand she had rested on his thigh to steady herself and quickly withdrew it, leaving a chill in her absence. She balled her fingers in her lap.

  “There are things about me—”

  The wedding march shattered the low hum of chatter and silence dropped like a brick over the room. Everyone rose in a rustle of clothes and shuffling feet and turned in the direction of the double doors. Jared kept Calla against him, her back nestled lovingly against his chest, and she never pulled away. Ali, in a shimmering gown of white lace and glitter, floated beautifully over a carpet of scattered rose petals. Her brown eyes were locked with the man waiting anxiously for her at the other end. Jared hadn’t been to many weddings, despite the number that actually took place in Willow Creek, but it never failed to amaze him how incredible women were. If men were in charge of weddings, it would be a BBQ in the wilderness while they fished. Maybe that was why that day was specifically about the bride. Lord knew how much blood, tears, and time went into putting together an event that was special, unique, and memorable.

  The crowd sat once Ali had reached the podium. Jared tucked Calla into his side. His arm cradled her shoulders. Gingerly, almost absently, he skimmed the seam of her shoulder where the strap didn’t touch. The slope dipped down her arm. But he stayed at the top, running the same familiar path in slow glides. The longer he did it, the more relaxed she seemed to get, until she was a supple weight leaning into him. A very large part of him wished the wedding never ended.

  Jared had never contemplated marriage. He knew he would eventually. But it wasn’t something he had ever felt inclined to rush into. Most of the women in his life had been brief. His longest relationship had lasted six months, and he couldn’t really blame any of that on his feelings for Calla. Not entirely.

  When he first realized he was in love with Calla McClain, he’d been about fourteen and the whole situation had been confusing and painful. He had no idea how things had escalated from him teasingly stealing her sled to tumbling headlong down the side of the hill, but he’d lain there with the cold seeping through his jacket, staring up into her wide, panic-filled eyes in an absolute daze.

  “Jared?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You okay?”

  He’d paused to consider the question, to test his limbs and make sure everything was still attached to him.

  “Yeah.”

  Splintering pain had shot up his arm where her bony knuckles had gone through several layers of fabric to punch into his shoulder.

  “You better not tell my mom, Dumont!”

  Right then and there, he’d fallen hard for her, or as hard as a fifteen year old knew how to fall. But even at fifteen, Jared had had enough commonsense not to tell her. Calla wasn’t exactly known to be gentle when something pissed her off. Plus at that age, he was still trying to determine if liking girls was normal, or not.

  But maybe it was Ali and Dan’s wedding, or having Calla back in his life, but the thought of marriage had becoming an almost frequent loop in his mind. Not that he wanted to rush off and marry Calla tomorrow. Well, he would in a heartbeat. But something told him she wouldn’t agree to it. Whatever she was hiding from was a wall of thorns between them and he knew he had to get through them before he could win the princess. It was a good thing he was a patient man, if not a determined one.

  The wedding group was moved to the town hall, the only building large enough to hold a large gathering. It also doubled as their emergency shelter, banquet hall, and just about everything else a small town needed when large masses were involved. The entire place was done up in black and silver, the theme of the night. Once everyone was inside, the doors were shut and the lights dimmed to a dark gold that was accented by all the candles flickering in bowls of water on each round table. A wide space was fitted in the center with the guests circled around it. The wedding party was seated at a long table draped in white and black trimmed cloth at the very head, lifted up on a metal stage. Balloons and streamers hung off the rafters amongst a sea of tinfoil wrapped stars and speckles of light reflecting off the disco ball. Something jazzy played through the speakers that was muffled by the horde of voices and clumping footsteps as people rushed to find their seats.

  Their table was at the very far, back corner, tucked in a pool of shadows. A few others were already there, looking uncomfortable and out of place. Calla took one look at them and burst out laughing. She laughed so long and hard, Jared had to hold her up against his chest when she began sinking to the ground. Her back trembled beneath his hands and her breath burned through the thin material of his dress shirt.

  “What?” He chuckled into the top of her head.

  Wheezing and painting, face flushed and eyes glistening, she lifted her head to his. “We’re at the single’s table,” she said between giggles. “They put us…” she said again, breathing hard. “At the single’s table. In the back corner. In the dark. A bunch of single, desperate people in a dark corner.”

  It took him a second longer to get her implication, then he was laughing, too. The three at the table eyed them like they’d lost their minds.

  “It’s an orgy waiting to happen,” he snorted into her ear.

  Nodding, she visibly tried to pull herself together. “Exactly.”

  Still grinning, she straightened. She smoothed her hands over her dress and turned towards the table. Jared reached the chair before she could and pulled it out for her. He waited until she was comfortably seated before nudging it closer to the edge. Then he sat himself.

  “I did mark you as my plus one,” he told her.

  Calla shrugged a bare shoulder. “That’s all right. With my luck, we’d get placed next to Georgia May. T
hen you’d have to bail me out of prison.”

  A grin toyed with the corners of Jared’s mouth as he leaned over close. He propped an arm across the back of her chair and let his lips linger on the curls over her ear. Her intoxicating scent poured into him, momentarily making him forget what he was going to say.

  “I’d never let that happen,” he assured her, letting his fingers lightly ghost the slope of her shoulder. “Even if I have to throw myself at the sheriff and give you a head start.”

  Calla laughed, a long, throaty sound that had her head falling back and her whole body quivering. One hand went up to cover her mouth. The other flattened against her abdomen.

  “Stop!” she scolded him, panting. “Everyone’s going to think we’re high, or something.”

  Chuckling, he whispered, “I think our table mates already do.”

  She peeked at the three trying not to look their way and broke out in another fit of giggles behind her fingers.

  “You’re awful.” She lowered her hand and pinned him with eyes that continued to glitter, but were narrowed in feigned scrutiny. “Okay, so tell me what makes you think it’s okay to invite a girl to a wedding the day before the event?”

  It was a struggle not to grimace.

  “That is your fault,” he told her instead. “I was going to ask you the morning I checked your fuse box, but that would have given you five days to find reasons to change your mind. I figured if I waited until the last minute, I had a higher success rate.”

  Her suspicion only seemed to blossom with his comment. “When did you put my name on the RSVP as your plus one?”

  He did grimace this time. “Monday.”

  “Well, someone was certainly confident.”

  “Not confident exactly,” he mused. “Determined.”

  She was about to respond when a shadow fell over them, distracting all further conversation as they glanced up. A man in his mid-thirties stood smiling hesitantly down at them. The wide patch of skin pushing back his hairline glistened under the light when he inclined his head.

  “Sorry to bother you,” he said. “But there was an error in the seating arrangements.” He shifted aside to show them the two women standing behind him. “These seats are reserved, but if you will follow me, I’ll show you your table.”