The Boss Baby Daddy (A Secret Baby Romance)

by Claire Adams

  "Thanks for letting me do it," he said. "Are you hungry? I can get some takeout or something if you are."

  "No, I should go."

  "Don't," he said, sitting up.

  "I don't want it to get too late before we get home."

  "Then stay here," he said. I shook my head slowly.

  "I can't. Not yet, Jason. This is nice, but, I'm not there yet."

  "Did I do something?"

  "No," I insisted. "I'm just... I'm not ready, Jason." He nodded, sighing. This had been the issue for a little bit now. We weren't really on the same page. I wanted him; he was great with Damien and every time we got together, I loved being with him. The connection was there, and the comfort level was going up, but still, spending the night was moving faster than I was ready for at the moment. I'd get there; I just wasn't ready yet.

  "I don't mean to rush you, Shel. Waking up alone, again and again, all I want is to see you two."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be," he said, kissing my forehead. "I get it." He got up and took Damien so I could stand. He held him while I got dressed and freshened up in the bathroom. There was no tub, and you wouldn't have been able to take a shower when someone was in there unless you were okay with someone using the toilet a foot away from you. I came out and found them on the bed, waiting for me.

  "So, I'll get him around the same time tomorrow. A little earlier, maybe," he said.

  "Of course, no problem." He handed Damien to me.

  "And, I'll see you tomorrow too," he said. I smiled, nodding. I leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. He cupped my face, kissing me again. "I'll walk you guys down," he offered. He went over to his bed and quickly put a shirt and some sweats on. He walked us down the stairs, buckling Damien into his car seat before he went back up again. That was nice; he hadn't needed to do that. I had liked it though, even if it made me even more conflicted than I already was.

  There was no question anymore about him and Damien. He was going to be his dad no matter what. The two of us were another story. He was making himself hard to resist. Hard to resist and easy to love. People didn't change overnight, but he had shown me who he could be, even though he still made mistakes sometimes. Didn't he deserve a chance? Yeah, you say that now, but won't it just be a matter of time before you're swallowing those words and crying alone because you were wrong about him?

  I shook my head, starting the car. I couldn't think about this now. I didn't want Damien falling asleep before he had a bath and his last feeding. Jason wasn't going anywhere.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Jason

  There was a knock at the door as I got Damien back into his onesie.

  "Guess who, buddy? Who’s here to pick you up?" I said, picking him up. I threw the old diaper away on the way to get the door. Shelby beamed when she saw him, holding her arms out to take him.

  "He just woke up," I told her.

  "Was he okay?"

  "Perfect," I told her. "What about you?" She shrugged.

  "I'm okay. How was work?"

  "Can't complain. Do you have time today?"

  "No, not tonight," she said apologetically. "Tomorrow, maybe." I nodded, making the smart decision not to push it. We were a few days into our new routine, and it was working so far. I picked Damien up from her station around two-thirty and had him until she got off work and picked him up from my place a little after six. I got to see both of them each day. Sometimes she'd be in and out, like today; other times, we'd hang out.

  I hadn't gotten lucky again, not since a few days ago, but that was okay. I mean, it could have been better. I wasn't going to turn her down when she did want to have sex, but I understood if after work all she wanted to do was get home and take a load off. The routine had added more travel and stress to her day, if you thought about it. I was just happy for the time with Damien and whatever time I got to have with her.

  "It's Friday tomorrow," I said. "That means the two of you won't be in such a hurry to leave?" She laughed a little.

  "We'll see; how about that?" she said.

  "How does a sleepover sound?" I asked.

  "Ambitious," she said sweetly. I nodded, getting it. We were taking it slow. It felt like too slow sometimes, but our circumstances were a little special. For Shelby, maybe the co-parenting thing came first, then the thing between us came second, but they weren't that different for me. They were hardly separate. I loved Damien, I loved being his dad, and I wanted her to let me love her. We were a family, and I wanted to be able to feel like it. This was how it went though. I got it. If she needed time, then she needed time.

  I walked them down to Shelby's car, kissing her before she left. I hoped she could see it. I loved our son, but I didn't know sometimes whether I was getting anywhere with her. She wasn't teasing me, that wasn't it. I just hadn't tried before to have anything real with anyone. I didn't know whether I was doing it right. Did she want more or less? Talking about it the times that we had, she wanted to take it as the days came, let it happen organically. I didn't know what that meant. What up to this point had happened organically for us?

  I felt like I needed an in somehow. It was frustrating, sometimes. I walked back up to my apartment, wishing she had decided to stay a little while. I just had to be cool. I knew that. I had this sick feeling that she wouldn't have any problem telling me to fuck off if I got impatient with her. You'd think I would have gotten used to us not being at the same place since we had basically never been. I had always been leaps ahead, dragging her up behind me to keep up, even when she wasn't ready. Maybe if you show her you won't be a regret for her later, she'll feel more confident about you, I thought. Show her you're going to be there for Damien no matter what, and there for her when she's ready.

  Cool advice, but what did I do in the meantime? I wasn't great at waiting, even when I knew that what I was waiting for was worth it. I couldn't just wait, that was the thing. I already saw my future, mine and Shelby's together. I wouldn't push her to do anything she wasn't comfortable with, no, but I would make sure I was ready when she finally was.

  It wasn't dark yet. I hurried upstairs for my keys then came back down. A search online turned up a couple jewelry stores that were still open. I mean, why not? I knew what I wanted. I hadn't even asked her anything yet, but her answer from me was yes. It would be yes until the day I died. My heart pounded trying to get to the store on time. I was their last customer when I finally arrived. It was a smaller shop, run by an Armenian family, two energetic brothers who were excited to show me their engagement ring selection when I told them what I wanted.

  The classic diamond was what everyone expected, what every person looking for engagement rings typically got. Shelby was worth the biggest, most flawless rock they had, worth every cent but staring down at the selection of classic engagement rings, none of them felt like the one. A white diamond in a nice white gold or platinum band was so... normal. We were anything but. We had a kid and hadn't even been together long enough to have counted a single anniversary. Normal wouldn't cut it.

  Ten minutes later, after looking through the rest of their selection, I walked out with a rose gold, braided band ring in a white jewelry pouch in my pocket, my wallet a little bit lighter. Now it was just a matter of when. That and whether she'd say yes when I asked her. I was hopeful. We had been on a steady, if slow, upward climb. Pretty soon, we'd be at the top.

  I got back to the apartment, Shelby hadn't been around long enough to notice the mess. Damien had started army crawling his way along the floor when he was put down these days. The mess his toys made rarely stayed restricted to the playpen anymore. My fault since I let him out, but when I didn't, he'd just whine to be let out anyway. According to the books I had read, he was getting mobile way too early. He had hardly cut his first tooth yet, but Shel had checked with the pediatrician, and since nothing else was wrong, we had nothing to worry about. He was just in a little more of a hurry than other babies his age.

  I picked up after him,
making a mental note to start baby proofing some of the outlets, concealing cords and padding corners so we didn't have any accidents. After, I went to the kitchen and searched the fridge for leftovers. I was dry. I didn't feel like getting on the phone for takeout, so I turned the oven on and threw some frozen chicken and vegetables in. I had gotten used to eating alone, but it was one of those things that was generally better when you had company.

  Sitting on my bed to eat instead of the table, I got my phone out and texted Shelby, asking whether she had gotten home okay. In the past few days, I had already taken over a hundred pictures of Damien on my phone. He was perfect, the cute little sounds he made, funny faces. I wanted to remember him this way since he was already growing so fast. He'd be walking soon, then next thing we'd know, he'd be starting school.

  Shelby had shown me some of the pictures she had of him when he was a newborn, tiny, pink and helpless, but it wasn't the same. I wished I had been there for it. The way she told it, she had barely gone to sleep the whole first month that she had him after coming home from the hospital. They slept a lot when they were that young, but only in little bursts. Sounded like a lot of work, yeah, but that was all part of the deal. Right there with wishing I had been there for his first days, I wished I had been there for the birth. It just made sense to me to be there when your kid was being born. It would have to take a very, very good reason to miss it: disability or death. Or if you were me, pure ignorance.

  There would be more chances, I thought. One more, at least. Did Shelby want more kids? It would probably be good to ask her before I started making plans for it since it would be her body doing all the heavy lifting. I had an engagement ring in my pocket for her, so maybe I'd give her that before letting her know how I felt. Damien was still an infant. She was barely four months postpartum; it wasn't time to let her know that yet. One day though. Hopefully one day, I'd get to see that.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Shelby

  The elevator door opened, letting me out into the lobby. I cast a look over at the daycare, where Damien wasn't as I walked out. Two days it had taken for me to stop walking there automatically at the end of the day before leaving. Having Damien out of reach a few hours every afternoon had been... not bad exactly, but I couldn't say good either. He was my baby, of course, I wanted to be near him, but if he wasn't then at least he was with his other parent. Paula had been beyond capable, an absolute pro, but Jason was his dad. That beat a stranger every day, no matter how qualified.

  It was Friday, and I was heading to Jason's to get Damien. Since it was Friday though, we'd probably spend a little time over there before leaving. Why not? I knew Jason would want us to. He tried to coax me to stay every time I went over there. It wasn't his fault that I was exhausted after work, but he did, unfortunately, get me at my most uncooperative. It wasn't that I didn't want to spend time with him; we just didn't have all that much time to begin with. With that, I didn't want to rush things. The last time that I got comfortable with him, it blew up in my face.

  One challenge at a time was more than enough. I guess I hadn't really thought ahead much about what dating for me would have been like with a kid. I had just gotten comfortable with Davis, and I hadn't wondered how I would have tackled a relationship alongside parenting Damien. I guess it was just my luck that the guy I was sleeping with now happened to be Damien's dad and seemed to want to make things work. Yeah, that was lucky, wasn't it? So what the fuck are you waiting for?

  I got to Jason's place and knocked. He took a minute to get to the door. I tried again. Wasn't he home? Why wasn't he coming to the door? I opened my purse, looking for the key he had given me. I was going to give him one too; it just made more sense for me to have one of his since I was around here more than he was around my place. That was what I kept telling myself. I opened the door and let myself in. The kitchen was tidy, just a couple of Damien's empty bottles near the sink and the can of formula that he gave him sitting on the counter. Formula feeding wasn't that serious; some people had to do it. It wasn't Jason's fault he didn't have breasts. It was totally safe for babies anyway. Maybe I could start pumping when I came to pick up and get Jason to freeze it, I wondered. It would save him money if he was okay with having my tit milk in his fridge.

  I walked through to the living and bedroom area. That space was a mess. Toys were everywhere, scattered across the floor and carpet. The changing table was folded out, and a pizza box, the remnants of what must have been Jason's lunch was on the dining table with his books and laptop. It better have been Jason's; he wasn't getting Damien on the grease this early. The two of them were on the bed, fast asleep. I smiled looking at them; it was so cute. Would it be out of line to take a picture of them? Jason was asleep on his side, and Damien was on his, nestled close to his chest.

  I had been too paranoid to do the co-sleeping thing when he had been smaller, choosing to have a bassinet near my bed instead, but I had napped with him a few times. Speaking of naps, what was I going to do with the two of them knocked out anyway? I put my purse down on the floor by the bed and shrugged my jacket off. Stepping gratefully out of my heels, I got on the bed with them. Kissing Damien's head softly, I rested my own on the pillow, glad Jason had chosen to splurge on a king bed even though his apartment was the size of a closet. The sun went down as I drifted off to sleep.

  I heard voices. Neither made sense, but there were two of them. What was it about napping that made you feel totally disoriented when you finally woke up? I sighed, turning onto my back. I opened my eyes, squinting. Damien was on the bed next to me, babbling in my ear. I smiled, easing his little hand out of my hair. He tugged it whenever it was down. Falling asleep had loosened the ponytail I had thrown my hair into that day.

  "Morning, sunshine," Jason said. He was sitting on my other side, grinning down at Damien and me.

  "It's nighttime," I grumbled. He smiled, smoothing loose hairs off my forehead, leaning down and kissing me there. "How long have I been out?"

  "Not that long. I just woke up," he said. He kissed me again, on the lips. Slow and romantic. I parted my lips, letting him. He pulled away, running a thumb over my cheek. "I love you; you know that?" My breath caught in my throat, and I swallowed. He had asked me a question; I wanted that to mean that he didn't want me to say anything back. If he was expecting something, he was about to be disappointed. I frowned at him, shaking my head. He laughed at me, kissing me again. "Now you do."

  "What am I supposed to do with that?" I asked.

  "Deal with it," he said, shrugging. "No sign of stopping or even slowing down. Are you hungry?" he asked, getting up. Really? That was what he wanted to know after he had told me that he loved me? He hadn't told me anything really, just asked me whether I knew. That didn't even count. What a cop-out. Didn't stop the fluttering I felt in my stomach when he said it though.

  "Do you mean whatever's left in that box?" I asked. He walked over to the table and picked the empty pizza box up.

  "Leftovers. Sorry about the mess."

  "Is it messy? I hadn't noticed," I said. A slight pink blush rose in his cheeks as he looked down and I had this sudden urge to kiss him. He could be cute, I guessed, when he was embarrassed. When he wasn't being annoying.

  "I'm all out of food, so what do you feel like having?" he asked. How did he eat the way he did and stay in shape? It wasn't fair, I thought, checking him out. Not a single spare pound of fat on him. I sat up and scooped Damien into my lap from where he had been, scooting his way across the bed.

  "Chinese?" I suggested. He asked me whether I had anything I wanted in particular, but I told him I'd just have whatever he was having. He made the call, walking around the little room, picking Damien's toys off the floor and tossing them into the playpen. Early, months before, I had dreaded ever seeing his face again, now look where we were: about to stay in on a Friday night eating Chinese like someone's boring parents, which we were, technically.

  It felt so, I don't know, domestic. Homey. It was ri
diculous, this place was tiny, but it felt so warm. There was nowhere I could think about being more than right there with Jason and our baby. It was peaceful and comfortable. Was it because he had just told me that he loved me? Was this what love was meant to feel like? I had loved people in the past, but this was different. I shared more with Jason than anyone I had ever been with. I had been through more with him too. Just because this relationship had been the most dramatic didn't mean it was the most real, I told myself. I had never felt more at home in another person's apartment before. Spending Friday night eating Chinese food with Jason sounded better than eating a gourmet meal with anyone else at a restaurant. Weren't you just supposed to know when you had it? If this was what it felt like, I didn't think I had even come close in the past.

  I got up, deciding to be useful and checked if Damien needed changing. I walked across the room to use the changing table he had gotten, even though the mat placed on the couch, bed, or floor would have worked just as well. He had gotten a little carried away buying him things; it was okay, it had happened to me too. First-time parents were easy targets. I would never get back the money that I had spent on a wipe warmer that a saleswoman had convinced me that I needed, now collecting dust somewhere at home. When he got off the phone, I asked him what he thought about freezing breastmilk for Damien so he wasn't having formula.

  "What's wrong with the formula?"

  "Nothing, but breastmilk's free. It comes out on its own when he isn't drinking it, and it’s supposed to be everything they need for the first six months. I could just pump, and you can freeze it."