I grabbed my own purse and placed Emma in her stroller.
I was just about to step out when the doorbell rang. I frowned as I looked through the peephole at a tall woman who looked slightly impatient.
I carefully opened the door, keeping Emily behind me. “Can I help you?”
The tall woman with a beautiful mane of dark hair and hazel colored eyes looked startled to see me. “I’m sorry, I must have the wrong house. I was looking for Sheriff Baker’s house.”
I shook my head. “This is the right house. Sheriff Baker isn’t in at the moment though. He’s at the station.”
The woman was definitely older than me, and she carried herself with the kind of grace and poise I wish I had. She was decked out in an pantsuit that screamed money, and I caught a whiff of expensive perfume.
“Can you tell me how to get there?”
I gave her an easy smile as I described the directions to her very carefully. She nodded every so often to let me know she was listening, before she thanked me and walked away.
“Off we go, Em. It looks like Daddy has company,” I commented as I wondered about the Amazonian brunette with the killer wardrobe.
7
Lyla
“Daddy’s almost home,” I announced cheerfully, as I took Emily out of the bath and towel dried her carefully. She was making babbling noises, thoroughly enjoying the attention being lavished upon her.
She was such a sweet little baby that it was hard to imagine why anyone wouldn’t want her. Briefly, I speculated about Emily’s mother and where she was, but I knew it was no use.
It wasn’t that Clay wasn’t forthcoming with information. I knew he wasn’t avoiding sharing out of malice or anything. It was obvious that it was still a painful subject for him.
Like a wound that hadn’t scabbed over yet, and he was afraid that if he scratched it, it would bleed all over again. I could understand that, although it didn’t stop me from wondering.
Maybe they’d had some kind of clandestine affair, and that was why she left him the baby? Perhaps he was too ashamed to admit it to his parents and the town. He was a respectable law enforcement officer after all, and she was a pregnant runaway.
He would definitely be blamed in such a scenario for taking advantage of Annabelle. Not that I could reconcile that perception of him with the man I saw every day.
He genuinely loved Emily. Regardless of his initial feelings, and I’d heard plenty about the story, which was inevitable, given the small town we lived in. Rumors swirled around him just like they did about everyone around here.
It was a way to pass the time, I supposed.
Once she was squeaky clean and dry, I dressed her up in a watermelon onesie, and I carefully brushed her hair back. I kissed her little nose, and she squealed in delight as she reached her hand for a fistful of my hair.
She liked to run her fingers over my blonde hair wistfully, and I let her do it. It was a sweet gesture that warmed my heart and made me feel closer to her. I knew I was getting dangerously attached to Emily, which wasn’t healthy given the precarious status of my employment, but I couldn’t help myself.
It was hard not to.
It was made harder by the fact that I was insanely attracted to her distinguished looking father, but oh well.
Life was full of tough choices.
I was slipping a shirt on over my head when I heard the front door open then shut. Hastily, I pulled the shirt down, picked Emily up and entered the living room with a smile on my face.
I stopped when I saw how agitated Clay looked. His hands were clenched into fists, and he was muttering under his breath. He was pacing back and forth, running his fingers through his hair and making it stand out in wild tufts around his face.
His shirt was pulled from his pants, half in, half out, and his jacket was askew. I wanted to comfort him, but I knew it wasn’t my place, so I stayed where I was and rocked Emily.
“Hi, Lyla,” he said distractedly, as he shrugged out of his jacket and threw it on the living room couch. He gave Emily a tired smile, but his face instantly transformed when he took in the sight of her.
“Hi, baby girl,” he said softly, as he held out his hands. Carefully, I placed Emily in his arms, and she immediately melted into his embrace, her face seeking out the crook in his neck where her head fit perfectly.
I watched them together, my heart thumping hard in my chest as a soft smile tugged on the corner of my lips. They looked beautiful together.
* * *
Eventually Emily drifted off, and Clay carefully handed her back to me. I tiptoed to her room, gently placed her in the crib and left the door open a little in case she called out for us.
When I re-emerged, Clay was sitting on the chair, staring vacantly ahead.
“Are you okay?”
“Abigail Windsor paid me a visit today. She’s Emily’s maternal grandmother.”
“You weren’t expecting her?” I asked hesitantly, not wanting to overstep my bounds.
“No, I wasn’t. I didn’t even know she was interested in Emily. She claims she didn’t know Emily existed, but Social Services tried to contact her.”
“And you think she’s lying?” I stood a few feet away, my arms crossed over my chest.
“I’m not sure what to think. I don’t know the nature of their relationship, but it’s clear that she and Annabelle had a lot of issues.”
This was the first time he’d ever mentioned her name, and I saw the sadness that accompanied it.
“There was a woman that stopped by the house today to ask about you. Maybe she was the same woman, but it’s highly unlikely,” I said, suddenly. “I didn’t get her name though. She just asked where you were, so I directed her to the police station.”
Clay stiffened visibly. “Lyla, what did this woman look like?”
“Tall. Fancy clothing, too posh to be from around here. Dark hair, and hazel eyes.”
Clay swore under his breath and kicked the table in front of him, causing it to topple over. I flinched as I jumped back, unaccustomed to bursts of anger from Clay, who was usually so calm and composed.
“Did she see the baby?” he demanded as he leapt to his feet, his eyes blazing with fury.
I shook my head adamantly. “No, she wasn’t even looking for her.”
“I trust you to protect Emily with your life, Lyla,” Clay hissed. “How could you endanger my daughter like that?”
“Endanger her?” My tongue was glued to the roof of my mouth, and I swallowed thickly.
“You opened the door to a complete stranger. That’s called endangerment.”
“I was on my way to take Emily for a stroll in the park. I didn’t know someone was on the other side of the door,” I defended.
“That was stupid of you,” he barked as he shot me a furious look over his shoulder. I stilled as I took two steps back.
I’d never seen Clay like this, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
So I gave him a curt nod, mumbled a sorry and fled to the safety of my room.
* * *
I was sitting on my bed, staring at the ceiling, when a few minutes later, fingers rapped against my door. I sat up gingerly, my heart skipping a beat as I fluffed my pillow aimlessly, trying to decide what to do.
I knew it was Clay, there wasn’t anyone else in the house, and I was stupidly hoping he’d apologize, but what if he was here for round two?
I didn’t feel like getting yelled at again, and I knew that I needed to be more careful, but I didn’t know the family history. How was I supposed to know to avoid tall brunette strangers with an axe to grind?
Finally, I released the pillow and sighed. “Come in.”
The door squeaked open, and Clay popped his head in, looking contrite and sheepish. “Can I come in?”
I nodded. “It’s your house, Clay. I can’t tell you not to come in.”
I knew the comment was slightly bitchy, but I didn’t feel like being diplomatic. He’d crossed a line, and I had no
intention of letting him off the hook easily.
“Your room is your space, Lyla. You have the right to decide what happens in here,” he said as he stood there, refusing to take one more step until I allowed him to.
It allowed some of the ice around my heart to thaw. “Alright, yes, you can come in.”
As soon as he stepped in, a look of pure awe crossed his face as he took in what I’d done with the room. He’d given me free reign to do what I wanted, so I took the liberty of repainting the whole room in lavender. I’d also hung up a bulletin board where I made a collage of pictures of my students, my family, and some art work I’d received over the years.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” he said, sounding impressed as he shoved his hands in his pockets and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. “It needed a bit of color and character.”
“Thanks,” I said as I toyed with a loose strand of thread on my bed. I scooched forward and dangled my legs off the bed and patted the space next to me. There was nowhere else for him to sit, and I didn’t want him to feel awkward.
He perched on the edge of the bed, making sure to keep a few feet between us, which I was both thankful for and frustrated by.
“Did I ever tell you that I used to live in New York?”
I shook my head.
“Right after college. I went there with dreams of making it big, and getting out of this town, but then after a while, I realized that I loved it here. When my Dad needed help, I didn’t think twice about coming back,” he said wistfully, his eyes taking on that dreamy faraway look.
“When Annabelle came into our lives, I told my parents she would be trouble. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to help her. It was just obvious that she had a lot of baggage, I didn’t want my parents subjected to that, and I honestly didn’t know how to deal with it. Then something weird happened. I started to like her. She became like family,” he explained as he turned to look at me, his eyes heavy.
“I’m sorry about what I said earlier, that was completely out of line,” he apologized. “I had no right to say what I said.”
“I should’ve been more careful,” I offered. “I didn’t know, but I promise I’ll do better.”
“I know you will. You’re already doing a great job, Lyla,” he said sincerely, as his hand closed atop mine. I stared at our hands for a second, unsure of what to do, only knowing that I didn’t want to move my hand away.
“I just don’t want to lose Emily. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said quietly, as his thumb moved in slow circular motions. “The Windsors are obviously rich and influential people. They’re also her maternal grandparents. I’m just a local sheriff who’s a single father. I can’t compete with them.” He raked his hands through his hair, the frustration rolling off him in waves.
I wanted to wrap my arms around him and take some of the tension off, but I knew I couldn’t for so many reasons, so I just gently disentangled my hand from his and gave him a soft smile.
“You are a great father, everybody can attest to that,” I insisted. “All they need to do is see you around Emily, and I’m sure that’s why Annabelle chose you to be Emily’s legal guardian.”
“Do you think so?” He placed his head in his hands.
“I know so.”
Clay groaned as he leaned backwards and spread the lower half of his body across my bed. Okay, I’d visualized him in bed a lot of times, but it certainly didn’t go like this.
My face flamed as the thought entered and crossed my mind.
“I hope you’re right,” he murmured as he gave me a gentle look and patted the space next to him. Hesitantly, I crawled forward and lay stiffly by his side, afraid even to breathe, lest the whole moment collapse.
His arm came up around me, and he tucked me into his side.
“Clay, should we be doing this?” I whispered into his side as I inhaled his clean-shaven scent, allowing it to wash over me.
He turned his head to the side and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Let’s not think about that right now.”
8
Clay
I stretched and groaned as I flipped on my side, pressing my body closer to hers. My face settled in the crook of her neck, and I inhaled deeply.
She smelled like strawberries, and something else. Something citrusy that I couldn’t quite determine. A quiet moan escaped my lips as I pushed my nose in her hair.
My sleep-addled brain was struggling to wake up as my eyes fluttered open and gazed blearily ahead. I yawned deeply and rubbed my eyes, trying to get rid of the last remnants of sleep.
I didn’t usually wake up on my own, it often took one large alarm clock to get me up and running, but for some reason, I’d stirred on my own today. As soon as my eyes focused, I frowned as I tried to remember where I was.
This wasn’t my bed, and that definitely wasn’t my ceiling.
And who was sleeping next to me?
Suddenly, the events of the previous night came pouring forth, and I lay perfectly still as I cursed myself for being an idiot. How could I let myself cross that line with Lyla?
It was one thing to fantasize about her from a distance, and quite another to sleep in her bed, cuddled up to her all night.
How did that even happen?
Lyla was sleeping with her back turned to me, her chest rising and falling evenly, and her hair fanned out across the pillow.
My cock twitched as my eyes ran over her petite curvaceous body, and I let myself imagine all the things I wanted to do to her.
I gritted my teeth as I shook my head and shifted, so that I could cool off.
I began to massage my temples and figured the best way to calm down was to take a cold shower, but I didn’t want to risk waking her up. She was probably dead tired, and I wasn’t sure what I’d do if she turned to look at me with those plump lips, and her sleepy eyes.
I was still human after all.
The bed creaked and groaned as Lyla shifted to her side, facing me and giving me an ample view of her chest. Somehow, her flimsy tank top had ridden up during the night, and because she didn’t sleep with a bra on, her naked breasts were on display.
My mouth felt dry as I swallowed heavily, growing harder and harder with each rise and fall of her breasts. She had a peaceful look on her face, and I speculated about what she would look like writhing in pleasure beneath me.
Emily cried out, a sudden sound that had me glancing towards her room sharply. Lyla kept the door that connected their two rooms open to be able to keep an eye on her throughout the night, and I could hear Emily clearly from where I was.
I glanced regretfully at Lyla as my lust drummed through me, and my heart ached to comfort Emily. Finally, I carefully swung my legs over the side of the bed, pulled on my pants and padded softly to Emily’s room.
* * *
As soon as she saw me, her crying softened to hiccoughs as she raised her hands expectantly. Slowly, I slipped off my shirt because it was sticking uncomfortably to my back, and I crouched down to pick her up.
I began to bounce her up and down hoping that direct physical contact, and the rhythmic bouncing I’d seen Lyla do would calm her down. It wasn’t working as well as I’d hoped though. Sure, she wasn’t wailing anymore, but tears were still sliding down her cheeks.
“Shhh,” I said, softly. “It’s okay, darling. I’m here. Let’s not wake Lyla up, eh? We want her to rest for a bit.”
Emily grabbed a fistful of my neck hair and tugged rather painfully. “Ouch. You’ve got a strong grip, don’t you?”
Emily released the hair, apparently not happy with her results, and gave a quick sharp cry. “Oh, I get it. It’s because you like Lyla’s long blonde hair. Well, I can’t do anything about that, kiddo. I’m sorry.”
I pulled her away to look at her, and she gave me a tearful but angry look that almost made me want to laugh. “Oh, you are going to be headstrong, aren’t you? Just like your mother. I can see it already in the stubborn tilt
of your chin.”
Emily gave me a sour look, as if I’d somehow done something wrong.
It had been a while since I’d taken care of her in the morning, and I didn’t recall her being this cranky. She was such a well-behaved baby that it was odd to see this side of her.
Perhaps it was something new? I’d have to ask Lyla once she awakened.
“Hush little baby, don’t say a word, Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird, and if that mockingbird don’t sing, Papa’s gonna buy you a…teddy bear?” I suggested, hopefully.
A quiet chuckle sounded from behind me, and I wheeled around to find Lyla glancing at us in amusement. “That’s not how the song goes. You know that, right?”
“I couldn’t remember the lyrics,” I said sheepishly, as I tried to forget how she looked just a few minutes ago. Luckily for me, she’d switched to sweatpants and a shirt. She strode forward and held out her hands for Emily.
Emily cooed and ahhed as soon as she saw her, and impatiently wriggled from my grasp. Once Lyla placed her atop her shoulder, she instantly quieted down.
I flashed a hurt look in my daughter’s direction as Lyla smiled apologetically. “It’s just because she’s used to me. It doesn’t mean she loves you any less.”
“My pride is wounded,” I joked as I poked Emily in her sides. A bubble of laughter escaped her lips as she tried to bury her face in Lyla’s hair.
“So, that’s how it’s going to go, is it?” I teased as I made faces at her. “Alright, baby girl. I can see where your loyalties lie.”
“Your Dad is just kidding,” Lyla assured her as she rolled her eyes at me. “Also, he’s being a big baby right now.”
“I am not,” I said, defensively.
“You’re sulking.”
“I’m not sulking,” I insisted as I uncrossed my arms and kept them at my side.
A Baby for the Officer: Boys of Rockford #1 Page 4
