Claim My Baby (Dirty DILFs Book 2)

by Taryn Quinn

  He stared at me, his stony jaw set and unyielding.

  “I know you don’t love me. That’s okay. But I won’t live a pretend life just so I can try to convince my child of a pretty lie. I told you last night that this isn’t a Seth and Marjorie situation, and it isn’t. You don’t have enough money in the world to make me give up my baby.” I swallowed hard, determined not to cry. One more facet of being an adult. “Nor will you strong-arm me into doing what you think is best for our child.”

  “You have no clue what I’m thinking. Or feeling.”

  “Maybe I don’t. But now you know what it’s like when someone assumes.”

  I turned to face my parents, who looked about as stunned as I felt. “I’m so glad you’re in town. I’ll talk to Ally today and we’ll coordinate when we can all have dinner and you can meet the baby.” I moved forward to give my mom a long hug, then did the same with my dad. “I’m sorry this morning was so weird. We’ll talk more later, I promise.”

  “So that’s it?” Oliver asked. “You’re just leaving?”

  “I have to get to work.” I reached up to touch the bow necklace he’d given me, oddly drawing strength from the smooth rose gold under my fingers. “We’ll talk soon.”

  He glanced at my mostly still full plate. “You barely touched your breakfast.”

  “Guess I’m not as hungry as I thought.”

  18

  Oliver

  I’d never been dumped by a woman before.

  All right, that was a lie. There had been one who’d “let me down easy” in college, and she’d been the teacher’s assistant I’d lost my virginity to, which had completely sucked. There had also been several women where it had been mutual. But this putting myself on the line and being turned down flat was a wholly new experience.

  I didn’t like it.

  I’d followed my usual modus operandi. I had come up with a plan of sorts and begun to execute it, certain it was the correct choice for Sage and my child. Only to be kicked back with a heavy dose of the truth.

  I hadn’t asked her to marry me. Frankly, it hadn’t even occurred to me. I knew people made a big show of proposals. There was that airplane banner we’d seen in Vegas, and of course my own brother had gone with fireworks to propose to Ally. He’d needed to give her romance, so he’d offered her pomp and circumstance. The difference there was, they’d had ten years to build a foundation of love and trust and friendship. Sage and I had been frenemies until a month ago.

  Yet somehow you thought a piece of jewelry and rose petals would suffice as your quota of romance?

  I was an idiot. Clearly. I’d prided myself on not being like my brother. I would never marry a woman I couldn’t love just for a child. Would never find myself in that position. And I hadn’t, because my feelings for Sage far exceeded anything Seth had ever felt for Marjorie.

  Did Sage know that? No. Because I’d assumed we could move expeditiously and do what looked best for appearances, then take the rest as it came.

  Coward.

  Sage didn’t give two shits about appearances. I’d been wrong in not seeing that before. I’d called her strong when I gave her the bow necklace I’d chosen for her, but I hadn’t begun to acknowledge her depths. She was just like that knot. Resilient. Incapable of breaking. Holding her ground no matter what pulled at her or from how many sides.

  Her love for our child rocked me to my core. Already, she was an incredible mother, and the baby hadn’t even been born yet. It made me want to work harder to be worthy of her. Of them.

  I had screwed up, plain and simple. I had to prove to her how I felt. Showing her what she meant to me was so much more important than empty actions. I’d believed she would understand how much I cared for her and the baby from what I did. Waking up beside her, going to sleep at her side at night. My willingness to share my life with her, to be there for our child, seemed like it should be enough.

  It wasn’t. Not by miles.

  Obviously, I needed some schooling. My first inclination was to immediately fix things. To order up some grand-scale romantic gesture that would make up for my colossal flub. But that wasn’t the answer either. Sage wanted the romance, yet she was far more practical than I’d given her credit for. I couldn’t just phone it in with a generic one-size-fits-all happy ending.

  I had to risk myself. Put everything on the line, even knowing there was a good chance it wouldn’t be enough.

  At the root of things, I knew my feelings for her, and how they were growing by the day. I didn’t know hers for me. Sexual attraction only went so far. But I wasn’t giving up. This wasn’t just about claiming my child—it was about claiming my woman too.

  Mine, both of them.

  For the better part of a week, I gave her space. It killed me not to see her or to ask all the questions that I’d laughed at when it came to my brother’s incessant pestering of his wife. He’d hovered over Ally, concerned about every step of her pregnancy, and I’d rolled my eyes. I’d heard of helicopter parents, but before the kid was even born? C’mon, man. And he’d told me one day, you’ll understand.

  I did now.

  But I bided my time. I had a brand-new nephew to spoil. Now being around babies had taken on a significance, considering the fact I would have my own in the not-too-distant future.

  “You’re a natural with Alexander,” Ally murmured a few days later as I rocked the blissfully sleeping baby. The fates had taken pity on me, and he had a full belly thanks to Ally nursing him before I arrived. Seth was building a snowman with Laurie in the backyard, so for a few minutes, the house was quiet.

  “What’s not natural is naming an innocent child Alexander when his last name is Hamilton. Do you want him to be mercilessly teased in school?”

  She rolled her eyes at me as she refolded the baby blanket I’d brought over for the kid. “It’s a distinguished name. Your father loved it.”

  “I’m sure he did. But Alexander’s peers are going to make him a laughingstock.”

  “Half of his peers probably won’t even know who the original Alexander Hamilton was. This is the smartphone generation, you know.”

  “Our Alexander’s peers will not be that ignorant. Surely he will only attend the best schools.” I sifted my fingers through his thatch of dark hair. “Do you think his eyes will stay blue?”

  “I don’t know. I hope so, but sometimes a baby’s eye color changes.”

  “Laurie was a lot fussier than he seems to be.” As if he’d heard me, he opened his big blue eyes and yawned. A big yawn that made me laugh. “You’re awfully tired, huh, buddy? It’s hard being an adorable baby and having everyone fawn all over you.”

  “He’s sleeping easy for you. He’s not always that content when we hold him. Maybe it’s just that natural thing of yours I mentioned. Baby whisperer. Handy skill to have, considering future events.” Ally smiled serenely at me when I gave her a pointed glance.

  Sage must’ve told her about our child. Yet neither of us were going there. We’d just tiptoe around the situation until we had no choice. Or more accurately, until I was certain without a doubt that Sage didn’t mind it being discussed. After my colossal fuck-up of the other day, I wasn’t assuming anything anymore.

  “You weren’t planning on having a child last year. Amazing how time changes things.”

  “Time and a persistent Hamilton.” She leaned forward and brushed her fingers over Alexander’s soft cheek. “I’ve found that a Hamilton man who puts his mind to a task can accomplish just about anything.”

  I frowned. Was that her way of pushing me to go after Sage? Could that be possible, considering both she and my brother had acted like the idea of us having intercourse was akin to the devil lying with the Virgin Mary?

  “Is that so?”

  “It is. It’s also true that sometimes Hamilton men make wrong-headed assumptions. And then persist in them far too long.”

  I was about to interject when she continued. “For example, take Seth. He made up his mind that yo
u are—to use an antiquated term—a lady killer. Someone who enjoys the chase more than the person they’re pursuing. I have my doubts if that’s true.”

  “Oh, do you now? Since when?”

  “Since my best friend told me you were exactly the man she needed in Vegas.”

  I didn’t know what to say. So, I said nothing.

  Had Sage truly told Ally that? Sage had intimated such the night she’d told me about the baby, but still, it was a lot to believe. Or was my sister-in-law trying to repay me for helping her and Seth when they’d broken up due to a rift, and now was trying to match-make?

  “I’m not talking in the carnal sense.”

  “Good, because no, thank you, and also,” I pointed at her son, “little ears.”

  Ally fussed with the blanket she was still folding and refolding. She probably didn’t want to have this conversation any more than I did. But she must think it mattered enough to try. That Sage and I mattered enough.

  I’d given up hoping anyone would want us together other than us, and Sage was now possibly a no-go on that topic too. I was well and truly a party of one.

  Minus my father. He would probably be overjoyed, assuming I didn’t screw shit up.

  Which I had. Royally.

  “Seth said some things I didn’t agree with. His heart was in the right place, but his mouth was not. You’re his brother. You have to know he sometimes fumbles the ball when he’s in the end zone.”

  “He’s the one happily married with a beautiful wife and two adorable kids. Who am I to judge?” I kept my tone light, but as I asked the question, I realized I believed what I was saying wholeheartedly.

  I’d always comforted myself with the thought that Seth was the fuckup brother. I was the one who didn’t make big mistakes. There were no baby mamas in my life, no major dramas. It was smooth sailing. And I also lived much of my life alone, while his was so very full.

  “None of us ever believed you wanted that,” Ally said softly, stroking Alexander’s chubby arm as he stirred.

  “Including me. Especially me. Here you go. He’s going to want something I can’t provide soon enough.” I started to hand back her son, but she shook her head.

  “He’s full as a horse. He just wants extra comforting, I think. Hold him a little closer.”

  I did as she said, shifting him against my chest. Alexander’s little hand sneaked out and grabbed the lapel of my jacket. And there was a surprising tightening in my throat, followed by the urge to tuck him even closer to inhale his baby smell. Talcum powder and laundry detergent and little boy.

  Would I have one of those? Or would ours be a little girl like Laurie, full of laughter and fun and impetuousness?

  “See, he’s fine. He loves you already.”

  I took a deep breath. “How does anyone know how to do this?”

  “To be a parent? You’re asking the wrong person, bucko. I’m new to the game.”

  “But it fits you naturally. Some of us have no clue.”

  “Are you sure about that? You can’t see yourself and how perfectly he’s snuggled into your arms. As if he belongs there.”

  “All just an act. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “None of us do. We just keep trying and hope the kid doesn’t end up in therapy. Or if he does, that he doesn’t send us the bill.” She grinned and patted my arm. “I’m going to go check on the other two. Be right back.”

  I held Alexander while he slept, feeling utterly inadequate. And replayed her words in my head for the rest of that day and the days that followed.

  Maybe Ally was right. It wasn’t possible to get parenthood perfectly. I hadn’t gotten wooing Sage perfectly either. Even anywhere close. But that wasn’t the goal. Neither was it to have a sterile, uneventful life.

  That wasn’t truly living, not after I’d had the whirlwind known as Sage Evans crash into my world. I wanted more of her laughter and her curiosity and her zest for experiences. I just wanted her.

  I wasn’t sure I could live without her.

  So, I went with the one sure thing I had in my arsenal. The one thing I knew without a doubt that Sage loved.

  I made her origami.

  Ducks. Swans. Cats. Dolphins. And because I was a giant wuss and couldn’t actually send them to her, I piled them on the windowsill in my office, so they could nicely complement the heart lights I hadn’t yet taken down. Might never take down, if it meant she might take pity on my unromantic soul and come back to me.

  I found myself making the origami at the oddest times too. It was as if I had so much in my head that keeping my hands busy was my only option. More than one client got to sit by as I walked them through a contract while simultaneously working on that day’s shape. I had just finished a meeting with Hal Gunderson about selling his rental property, and was working on a particularly tricky dragon, when my brother stepped into my office and shut the door.

  He took one look at me and shook his head. “It’s worse than I thought.”

  “Worse? What worse? I just signed a contract with Hal to sell that sweet three-story mixed-use space on—”

  “Look at all this.” He crossed the room and poked at my origami zoo, touching fowl and water creatures with about as much care as a toddler wrecking a playroom. “What is going on with you?”

  Discreetly, I shifted my dragon to my lap. “I don’t have a clue what you mean.”

  “When are you going to contact Sage and put an end to this madness?”

  Even her name made my heart pick up speed. Too much caffeine, I decided. Not enough sleep. “I’m still waiting for clarification on what you’re referring to.”

  “You know damn well.” He picked up a pterodactyl. I growled low in my throat. “You need sunlight, man. You’re holed up in here day and night making paper animals. It’s creepy.”

  “Origami is actually an ancient art used for—”

  “Dude, I know what origami is, and I’m still going to guess you’re keeping busy with all this crap so you don’t think about your bed being empty at night.”

  “Who says my bed is empty?”

  “I’d say it’s fairly obvious.”

  “And that bothers you, why? You made it clear that if anything happened between Sage and I, it must be because I was convenient.”

  “I didn’t say that.” He grimaced. “Exactly.”

  “Pretty close.” Despite Ally trying to explain away Seth’s comments, they still stung. “Has your wife been working on you?”

  “About you and Sage? No.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe a little. We’ve possibly had some discussions on the subject.”

  I crossed my arms. This should be good. “And?”

  “I was worried about Sage, man. She has a soft heart sometimes. I didn’t want you to hurt her. So maybe I said some really rude, inappropriate stuff to dissuade you from going there.”

  I locked my hands behind my neck. “I know.”

  “You know?”

  “Yes. Or I suspected as much. You and Ally love her, even if you don’t always see her strength or give her enough credit for knowing her own mind.”

  Seth didn’t argue. Just prodded an origami swan I’d made from this silver paper with a sheen I’d picked up at the craft store. I’d never been in a place like that in my life until Sage. She’d needed some plastic pockets and some paper doilies and stickers—stickers, for God’s sake—for her memory journal one night, and I’d been buoyed by the promise of sex, enough to consent to an hour amongst glitter and bows.

  Much to my surprise, I’d actually enjoyed wandering the aisles at her side. She’d pointed out a few different papers and ephemera, her excitement evident. She’d even showed me a couple of pages in her journal and how she’d decorated them. I hadn’t gleaned any of her juicy secrets, but her pleasure in the creation of each page had been contagious. By the end of it, I’d grabbed a few sheets of fancy paper with the intention of making her more origami. I’d even suggested we go to the craft store again sometime�
�sex afterward optional—and she’d looked at me as if I’d presented her with a car.

  What had she put in her journal about the day we’d argued post-baby reveal and post tying up? Was there a sticker for that?

  If so, it was better I didn’t know. Bad enough I’d already seen the sheet of rainbow-colored poop stickers Laurie had gotten in her kindergarten class to mark when she turned in her homework on time.

  Seth sighed. “You’re probably right.”

  “Wonders never cease. I haven’t been right too often lately.” My dragon fell off my leg and landed face down, ass end up.

  An apt metaphor for my life.

  Seth sat on the edge of my desk. “You’re coming out with us tonight.”

  “If it involves listening to Alexander cry all night at some restaurant, I’ll pass.”

  “You know damn well my son is a sound sleeper already, and I caught you cuddling him several times this week, so don’t even go there. Besides, this doesn’t involve the baby.”

  “Oh, really? Did you convince Sage to watch him and Laurie while you and Ally trip the light fantastic?”

  “That phrase went out of vogue in approximately 1979.”

  “As did your suit.”

  He ignored me. “Do you remember Wes, Laurie’s little friend from school?”

  “Her boyfriend? Mmm-hmm.” Low blow, but I was feeling snarly.

  “Excuse me? What do you mean, her boyfriend? She’s not even five yet.”

  I held up my hands, palms out. “Hey, just repeating what she told me.”

  “When did she tell you this?” Before I could answer, he waved off the question. “You know what, never mind. I’ll stay happily in the dark.”

  “Good. I won’t tell you how she said they’re getting married someday then.”

  He gave me a gimlet stare. “Anyway, Wes’s dad, Dare, and I are going out to shoot some pool and have some fun for his birthday. The guy works all the time and hasn’t been in town all that long, so he doesn’t know many people.”