Cowboy SEAL Daddy

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Cowboy SEAL Daddy Page 2

by Laura Marie Altom


  “I left the grill out. It apparently collapsed from exposure.” She watched him rummage around in one of the shopping bags, and then he presented her with a pack of gummy worms. “Hope these are okay? I used to love ’em when I was a kid.”

  She took one look at the slimy confection and bolted for the restroom. Thankfully, she made it in time, but as she rinsed her mouth and washed her face with a cool washcloth, Paisley found herself reluctant to face Wayne.

  “Everything okay in there?” he asked from behind the closed door.

  “Sort of.”

  “Can I help?”

  Just thinking about the worms brought a fresh onslaught of nausea. She dashed for the commode.

  The door burst open at the worst imaginable time.

  “Damn, girl...” Wayne knelt beside her, holding back her coppery hair, rubbing her shoulders, making soothing sounds the way she’d fantasized David would. “How long have you been like this?” He left her to refresh her cool rag, then pressed it to her flushed forehead.

  “Forever. I don’t mean to sound like a diva, but could I ask you a teensy favor?”

  “Anything.”

  “As soon as humanly possible, could you get those w-worms out of my apartment?”

  “Absolutely, but I thought you were craving gummy stuff?”

  “Cute bears—that’s all. No sharks, either.”

  “Got it. My bad.” He flushed the commode, then took off running for the kitchen.

  By the time he returned from disposing of the offensive edible creatures, she’d cleaned herself and once again collapsed on the sofa.

  “This is probably going to make me sound like an idiot—” he sat in the armchair opposite her “—but is every pregnant woman this sick?”

  “I don’t think so. My ob-gyn says this far into my third trimester I should be feeling better—but then she said that about my second trimester, too, so...” She shrugged.

  “Well, look...” Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees. “Considering what’s going on with you, I’m going to make your soup and my steak, then table my question for another time.”

  “What question?” She’d forgotten his big mystery. “Whatever it is, you might as well ask. At least it’ll take my mind off those disgusting worms.”

  “Sorry about that.” He winced. “I’ll grab bears next time I’m out.”

  “It’s okay. I can do it.”

  “Babe, hate to break it to you, but you’re in no condition to do squat. So actually, my proposition could be mutually beneficial.”

  “But you haven’t proposed anything. Spit it out. We’ve been friends for years. We’ve discussed work, politics and religion. Surely, this mystery question can’t be too bad?”

  “Not at all. In fact, once you think about it, it’s really no big deal.” His crooked grin had her tummy doing happy flips. The man was criminally handsome. “How would you feel about me renting you to be my temporary wife?”

  “What?” Paisley took a moment for the question to sink in, then bolted for the bathroom.

  Chapter Two

  “That could’ve gone better,” Wayne mumbled, as he stood outside Paisley’s bathroom door. He’d tried letting himself in, but she’d locked it. “Paise?”

  “Go away!” Her voice might have been muffled, but her tone rang through loud and clear. She thought he was crazy. He’d be first to admit he was, but he hadn’t asked her to be his rent-a-wife for himself, but for his dad’s dying wish. There was a huge difference. If she’d just let him explain.

  “I want to help!”

  “You can’t—” The sound of her tossing her cookies told him she wasn’t naked or anything, so he made a short jog to her kitchen’s junk drawer for a safety pin, then picked the bathroom lock.

  Sure enough, when he entered, she was back on her knees in front of the commode. Her complexion was gray. Her expression when she glanced his way shattered his heart. He could kill the guy who’d knocked her up, only to abandon her.

  Wayne went through his cool washcloth routine again, then sat on the floor behind her. Legs spread, he drew her back to lean against him. His every nurturing instinct, that he usually reserved for horses, had him smoothing her hair back from her forehead, wishing her free of pain.

  “I’m so tired,” she whispered.

  “Sorry.”

  She waved off his apology. “It’s not your fault I was stupid enough to have unprotected sex with a married man.”

  “I know you well enough—or, at least I think I do—to be sure you wouldn’t have been with him if you hadn’t loved him and not known about the wife.”

  “True.”

  “I saw you kiss him a few times. You seemed happy.” The sight of her with another guy initially set Wayne on edge. He and Paisley were friends. He wanted the best for her. Without personally vetting her new guy, Wayne couldn’t be sure he was good enough. Clearly, he hadn’t been, which pissed off Wayne even more. “How did you find out he was married?”

  “After I told him about our baby, he told me he’d pay to have the problem go away.”

  “Bastard!”

  “Right? I told him I’d always wanted to be a mom and have a family. I thought the pregnancy was a surprise blessing. That’s when he announced that he and his wife had already been blessed three times, and he wasn’t interested in having another.”

  “I assume he’s at least paying child support?”

  “He said if I promise not to contact him or try talking to his wife, he’ll cover labor and delivery costs, but that’s it.”

  Wayne snorted. “I’m no lawyer, but I don’t think he gets that choice.”

  She began crying softly. “H-he made me feel so dirty. Like I’d done something wrong. I—I loved him, but now? I feel empty inside.”

  “No. You did everything right, hon. Even better? In a few months, you’ll have a gorgeous son and all your pig of an ex will have is a child support bill.” It ate him up inside to see her so defeated.

  “I don’t want the legal system involved. As much as I’ve been hurt, his wife would be devastated to know David had been fooling around. Never in a million years would I have dated a married man. He’s scum.”

  “Agreed. You’re too good for him.”

  “But what about you?” She turned to face him. “What in the world were you talking about earlier? Wanting to rent a wife?”

  “It was a stupid idea. Sorry I brought it up. I’m especially sorry it upset you enough to make you sick.” He grappled to his feet, then knelt, scooping her into his arms.

  “I can walk.”

  “I’m sure you can.”

  “And it wasn’t your bizarre question that made me sick, but thinking about those nasty gummy worms.”

  He walked down the hall to her bedroom and set her on her unmade bed. After slipping off her pink Converse sneakers, getting her comfy by bunching pillows behind her and under her knees, he drew her floral comforter up to her neck. “Better?”

  She nodded.

  “I grabbed Sprite at the store. Want some on ice?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He returned to find her asleep.

  Not wanting to leave her alone with her door unlocked, he made his steak, then found extreme winter games to watch on ESPN.

  By the time he heard stirring from the bedroom, the sun had long since set.

  Paisley wandered down the hall. More hair had escaped her ponytail than was in, and her dress looked more like a rumpled prison uniform than her usual classy style. Everything about her kicked Wayne’s protective streak into overdrive.

  “Let me help you.” Up from the sofa, he guided her to where he’d been sitting, then plucked a faux fur throw from the back of the sofa to cover her.

  “Thanks, but why are you still here?”

  “I don�
��t have a key. What if I’d left you alone and killers or drug dealers strolled inside?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Because we have so many of those in our gated community.”

  “Hey—anything could happen. My job is all about safekeeping our American way of life.”

  Laughing, she said, “Not to detract from your actual military service, but I’ve seen you and your buddies protecting—especially bikini models. Yeah...” She winked. “You all kept them super safe.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I...” The twinkle in her eyes told him she was not only feeling better, but sassy. It made her kooky hair extra adorable. “Did you ever get my beef jerky?”

  “I see how it is—you’re just using me for meal delivery?”

  “Wayne...” Something about his teasing question served as an instant vibe wrecker. Not a good sign for a guy in serious need of a favor.

  He got her snack and poured her another Sprite before sitting across from her and muting the TV. He cleared his throat. “So earlier...”

  “When you asked me to be your rental wife?” Eyebrows raised, she shook her head.

  “I wasn’t going to bring it up again, but since you did, hear me out.” Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees. “I haven’t told you—or pretty much anyone besides Logan—but my dad has cancer.”

  “Oh no.” She dropped her piece of jerky back into the bag. “Wayne, I’m so sorry. Is he getting treatment?”

  “That’s just it—he says he’s too far gone for that. I’ve drilled him for more details, but he refuses to talk about it. He doesn’t even want Mom to know, but I don’t understand how if he’s that sick, she hasn’t noticed. When I try broaching the subject with her, she tells me he seems tired, but is otherwise fine, Which makes no sense considering his doctors gave him...” His voice cracked with emotion, recalling how much time they’d spent together on the family ranch. It was the little things that now meant so much. Fishing together and building a tree house. The time his junior prom date bailed, so his dad took him camping instead, and told him he could be anything he set his mind to. Even when his marriage crashed and burned, his dad had helped stomp out the fire. “They gave him a couple months to live. He says his sole regret is not having grandkids.”

  She gasped and covered her mouth, but then hugged her baby bump. “Which is where I come in? You want me to pretend this is your baby? That we’re together, so your father rests in peace?” Her gaze welled. “Wayne—that’s the sweetest thing ever. But I’ve met your parents lots of times. Surely they’d remember you and I are just friendly neighbors?”

  “Exactly. Think about it. That’s what makes this whole plan perfect. What could be more natural than two friends falling for each other and having a baby?”

  “Wayne—” She released a long, slow exhale. “You know I love you, but not that way.”

  “That’s the best part. I feel the same. You’re a great girl, but—”

  She frowned. “I’m not your type?”

  “I was going to say I’m career military and blow shit up. You, on the other hand, spend your days making the world more beautiful with your design business.” Plus, Wayne’s divorce left him one hundred percent certain he didn’t have the intestinal fortitude to marry again. Give him a bomb over a bombshell of a woman any day. “You’re an amazing soul. Any man would be lucky to have you. But this engagement wouldn’t be real.”

  “But what about your mom? She’s not dying. What happens when she wants to spend time with the baby after your dad passes?”

  “Great question.” Now Wayne was the one wearing a frown. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought that through.”

  “Although... I suppose after he dies, you could tell her the truth?”

  “Does that mean you’re at least willing to consider my plan?”

  “For you, for your sweet father, of course. But there’s a lot involved. We’d have to really be in sync—not just act like friendly neighbors, but...you know.” Her blush told him her mind had gone straight to the gutter.

  Yeah, he did know.

  Once upon a time, a couple weeks after moving in, he’d considered asking Paisley on a date, but then he’d been deployed—hell, maybe a better way of looking at it was that six months in Iraq had given him an overdue reality check. He couldn’t put himself through another potential breakup. The pain of loving and losing was too damned intense.

  Survival was about keeping his head in the game—not on a woman.

  “Thank you.” Wayne was caught off guard by the profound gratitude he felt for her in the moment. “It really is a half-baked plan, but...” He worked past the knot in his throat that hardened every time he thought of a world without his father. “If we successfully pull this off and it brings my dad comfort in the last weeks of his life, it could be worth it.”

  “Absolutely.” She wiped silent tears with the backs of her hands.

  “This is good.” Damned if his eyes weren’t also stinging from the relief of having her onboard. “Nutty-as-a-drunk-squirrel crazy—but good.”

  “For the record, you have to know this could end in disaster.”

  “True.” But more likely, his plan would bring his father much-needed peace.

  “Just to be clear, I refuse to take money. This would strictly be a humanitarian mission.”

  “Deal.” He stood, crossing the short distance between them to shake her hand. Was it his imagination, or was there a spark that had never been there before?

  Not cool. Sparks were the last thing he needed from the neighbor he considered one of his best friends.

  * * *

  “WHOA, WHOA, WHOA. Back up the truck.” In the glorified closet that served as Velvet’s break room, Monica tossed her usual frozen breakfast burrito in the microwave, then slammed the door before setting the time. “Wayne—hotshot, abs-of-steel navy SEAL—wants to rent you and your unborn baby? Sweetie...” She shook her head. “That’s more than a little twisted.”

  As if on cue, Paisley’s cell buzzed. Her mother. One more problem she’d prefer avoiding. Paisley touched the decline button for the call.

  “You can’t keep this up forever. One day, you will have to talk to your mom.”

  “I don’t doubt that for a second, but that day isn’t this day. Now, where were we?”

  “You were trying rather unsuccessfully to explain why you’re agreeing to Wayne’s crazy scheme.”

  “His dad is dying.” While Monica ate her smelly meal, Paisley struggled not to retch as she relayed pertinent details. “With all of that in mind, how could I turn him down?”

  “Gee—did it ever occur to you to just say no?”

  “Well, sure, but then he looked so sad, and—”

  “The man’s no doubt been trained in psychological warfare. Playing dirty was the only way Logan got me to date him.”

  “Let’s be real—Logan’s ass in a pair of jeans worked most of his magic.”

  “Language!” Monica scolded. “You’re about to be a mother.”

  “And if you for one second pretend you weren’t just as hot for Logan as he was for you, then you’re a liar.”

  “All right. What can I say? The guy has it going on. But he also thinks commitment is a four-letter word. Besides, my dad would never approve.”

  “Wait—” Eyebrows raised, Paisley leaned across the table. “Are you saying that if Logan proposed and Daddy Conrad actually approved, you might still be together?”

  Monica chewed extra fast before swallowing, then said, “I’m not sure how you turned this issue around on me, but it’s not going to work. The matter at hand is the fact that Wayne is using you. Sweetie, you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever known, but you also have a seriously full plate. You’re a business owner on the verge of becoming a single mom. You have about two free hours a day when you’re no
t puking your guts out, and I selfishly need you to spend them here.”

  Paisley drew her lower lip into her mouth for a nibble.

  “Oh God...” Monica fisted her burrito’s plastic wrapper. “You already told him you’d do it.”

  Nodding, shaking her head, Paisley settled for a shrug. “What can I say? Rampant pregnancy hormones made me a sucker for his sad, stormy-gray eyes—but it’s all good. We were both up front about this being a platonic, temporary humanitarian gig.”

  “Lord... In the immortal words of Cher, ‘Snap out of it!’ This man is not your friend. He’s a neighbor who doesn’t need a simple cup of sugar, but your womb. There’s no way you’ll fool his dad, let alone his mother. The whole plan is ludicrous.”

  True. So why does my heart skip a beat every time I think about getting started?

  Chapter Three

  Over a week later, Paisley dropped the kitchen window’s curtain. The last thing she needed was for Wayne to catch her spying.

  Was it her imagination, or had he been to the communal Dumpster more in the past thirty minutes than he had for the past few months? If so, what did his actions mean? Was he also still confused by their last conversation?

  She was so deep in thought that when a knock sounded on the front door, she was nearly startled into a premature delivery. A peek through the eyehole landed her face-to-face with the man she’d been practically stalking. Had he caught her?

  “Hey. What’s up?” She strove for a breezy, nonstalker tone.

  “Not much.” He leaned against her doorjamb. Was he also trying a little too hard to look carefree? “It’s a, um, gorgeous day. Want to stroll the duck pond?”

  “I suppose that would be okay. Let me find shoes.”

  “Sure. Take all the time you need.”

  She hated the awkwardness between them. Before his “proposal,” they’d been chill. Friends. Now? She couldn’t read his vibe, but knew him well enough to recognize it wasn’t normal.

 

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