“I’m confused,” I echoed.
Clay wrapped his arms around me, looking deep into my eyes. “Lyla, I’ve been in love with you from the minute you walked into my station. I knew that something was going to happen then, I just didn’t know what it was going to be. You’ve changed my whole world. Mine and Emily’s. I couldn’t be happier.”
“You’re in love with me?” I repeated dumbly, as my brain reeled to make sense of what he just said.
Clay was in love.
With me.
He wasn’t going to kick me out, or ask me to abort the baby.
No, this was going to be an actual marriage.
Nobody pinch me if this is a dream.
Clay chuckled. “If it’s a dream then nobody should pinch me either.”
“I hadn’t realized I said that out loud,” I said, sheepishly.
“You did, so does this mean you feel the same way?” he asked hopefully, as his entire body tensed and waited for my response.
“Of course I do.” I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his neck, inhaling deeply. “Ever since I set eyes on you wearing that ridiculous jacket.”
“Hey, I love that jacket,” he complained, good naturedly.
“I know you do.” I pulled back and looked at him. “I love you, Clay.”
He smiled, and his entire face lit up. “I love you too, Lyla, and I want us to be a real family.”
“Me too.”
We both stared down at my stomach, at the life growing inside of me, and Clay bent down, so that he was right in front of it. He kissed my stomach and wrapped his arms around my middle.
“Hey there,” he said, softly. “I’m your Daddy, and I can’t wait to meet you.”
I gazed at him fondly as I grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him back up for a deep kiss.
“What was that for?” he asked, breathlessly.
“Oh, you didn’t know that pregnant women are more hormonal?” I dropped my voice to something low and seductive, and the effect was instant.
Clay raised an eyebrow as he allowed his gaze to roam over my body. “It suits you. You’ve never been more beautiful or sexier.”
His mouth descended on mine, and I moaned as I melted into the kiss. Clay moved so that my back hit the counter, and our hands continued to explore, eager to affirm what was between us.
“Should we go upstairs?” he asked in between kisses.
“No, I want to do it right here.”
“Here?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly torn between wanting to please me and wanting to make sure I was comfortable.
I kept my eyes fastened on him as I slipped my shirt off and let it drop to the floor. His eyes grew wider as he noticed that I wasn’t wearing a bra, and my nipples instantly hardened when the air hit them.
“You’re very persuasive,” he commented as he stepped into my arms and began to kiss my neck.
“Yeah? I’m glad you like it,” I murmured as I opened my legs, and he pressed himself against me.
I gasped and moaned as he began to nip my neck and knead my breasts at the same time. I wrapped my legs tightly around his hips and arched my back to give him better access.
“God, you’re so hot right now, Lyla.” His voice was deep and throaty, and I could see that he was holding back.
“Don’t hold back. I want you, Clay. All of you, deep inside of me,” I moaned as I dragged my hands across his back. They snaked under his shirt, and I tried to remove it. Clay stopped what he was doing to chuck his shirt off and throw it to the center of the room.
My hands ran across his naked back, gliding across the muscles, pinching and kneading whatever my fingers ran across. Clay was peppering my neck with kisses, then moving to my collarbone, my ribs, and all the way down to my belly.
He gave me a heated look as he slipped off my sweatpants, so that I was standing there in nothing but my underwear. He placed his hands on either side of my hips and hoisted me up onto the counter before he reattached his lips to mine.
I let my hands travel between us, cupping him over his jeans as I felt him growl in the back of his throat. I kept my hand firmly where it was, driving him a little bit crazy before I began to shove his sweatpants off.
“Too many clothes,” I complained against his lips.
Clay smiled as he pulled back and kicked off his pants. His erection was straining against his boxer shorts, so I quickly helped him dispose of those, and he slid off my underwear at nearly the same time.
We made eye contact as he positioned himself, and in one swift movement he was inside of me. We both groaned at the contact, and I scooched, so I was on the edge of the counter, allowing him better access.
He pulled out then thrust back in, slowly at first, then building speed. I raked my hands across his back and bit his shoulder to keep from moaning too loudly, and Clay’s head dropped to my chest where his tongue began to twirl around my sensitive nipples.
His mouth parted, and he sank his teeth into my nipples as if he was starving, and I whimpered as I pushed myself closer, eager for more friction. He moved back and forth, from one to the other, lavishing each with attention.
His fingers dropped between us, and he began to rub my clit vigorously while he continued to pound into me. I cried out as I came, my entire body writhing in ecstasy, and he followed soon after.
Our heads came together for a sweet kiss as we both breathed heavily together.
18
Clay
I never really liked courts.
Even before I was going through legal proceedings. They always made my stomach tie itself up in knots, and I would get an annoying lump in the back of my throat.
Today was no different.
This was the day we’d been anticipating for months.
The court date for Emily’s custody hearing.
* * *
Emmett, the same lawyer who was assigned to my case that very first day, was standing by my side in a shiny new suit, looking better prepared with his hair slicked back, and a glint in his eye.
“Don’t tell me you feel confident this time,” I teased as Lyla and I slowed to a halt in front of him at the top of the stairs.
The sun was beating down on us, and the weather promised a good day ahead.
Emmett chuckled. “I do, actually. Unlike last time, I have a good feeling about this.”
“That’s what you said last time,” I replied as I raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?”
“No, don’t worry. It’s a---”
“Don’t you dare say slam dunk,” I warned jokingly, as Lyla tucked her hand into the crook of my arm.
“Alright, alright. I won’t,” Emmett said as he lifted his hands up in surrender. “Don’t worry though. I think we’re both better prepared this time around. I’ve gone over everything with the witnesses. They know what to say, and what to expect.”
“I don’t think the Windsor’s lawyer will play fair,” Lyla said, concern tinting her voice.
“He may not, but we’ve got the truth on our side. They don’t know what’s coming,” Emmett assured her. “Normally, I’d insist you stay at home for this, but—.” He shrugged his shoulders apologetically.
Lyla nodded. “I know. I’ve been subpoenaed anyway, so even if I wanted to stay home and put my feet up, I can’t.”
“You still can, if you want to. I still think the conflict of interest thing is completely bullshit.”
I turned my attention to Emmett who frowned. “I know, but the Windsors filed for the subpoena before you two got married, so I can’t challenge it based on that. Besides, if you insist, they might think you two are hiding something.”
Lyla drew herself up to her full height. “We’re not.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Emmett reiterated as he gestured towards the front. “Shall we?”
I buttoned up my jacket and straightened my back. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
Lyla had her hand placed protecti
vely around her baby bump, and I felt a surge of fierce protectiveness course through me as I thought of what I would do to protect my family.
In short, there was nothing I wouldn’t do or go through.
Not hell nor high water.
And certainly not the Windsors.
“All rise for the honorable Judge Lewis,” the bailiff called out, eyeing us sternly as the judge walked in a flurry of robes and pungent perfume.
Shit.
The judge was a woman.
She was more likely to be sympathetic to the Windsors, since they were Emily’s maternal grandparents, or at least that’s what Emmett seemed to think.
He deflated a little once he caught sight of who it was, but he quickly regained his composure, and we all sat down.
Lyla was on my left, and Emmett was on my right.
Emily was with a social worker in the other room, playing happily, unaware that the fate of her life hung in the balance.
The Windsor’s attorney began with an opening statement, the tale of a sadly confused and misguided teenage girl who was born into the lap of luxury and who staunchly refused to admit it. A troubled young woman who wanted to drive her parents crazy and whose subsequent love affair with a young man was to drive another nail into the coffin of their relationship. Still, her parents forgave her, but she couldn’t bear it, so she ran away and was taken in by a manipulative family with a scheming son who had no marriage prospects and took advantage of her. They were painting Clay as a shameless pedophile who had no qualms about seducing a pregnant teenage runaway so that he could end up with her baby.
To what end?
Were they being serious?
Clay made it clear that he had no idea what Annabelle’s plan was, and that he initially didn’t want the baby because he didn’t think he was fit to become a parent.
Of course, the Windsor’s attorney didn’t hesitate to point that out in her opening statement, making it seem as if Clay’s refusal to become Emily’s guardian had more to do with a guilty conscience over what had happened to Annabelle.
My hands curled into fists underneath the table, and Lyla began to use the pad of her thumb to stroke my hand. She knew it usually calmed me down, and I was glad she was doing it.
It made me feel a little better, and I gave her a small smile in return. Her eyes sparkled with love and understanding as she gave me a tender look in return.
The Windsor’s attorney shot us a smug look on her way back to her desk, and Emmett cleared his throat as he stood up.
Thankfully, Emmett was able to paint the exact opposite picture, pausing to highlight how much I’d done for Emily in the short time since she’d been in my life. He made me sound like some kind of super dad, which made me uncomfortable, but I knew it was necessary.
There couldn’t be any room for doubt.
He even made mine and Lyla’s love sound like a fairytale. She leaned her head against my shoulder briefly, and I squeezed her hands to let her know how much I appreciated this.
Once Emmett was done, they called the first witness. The part time nanny I’ve employed since Lyla and I got married.
“Please state your name and occupation for the record.”
Mrs. Barrett leaned forward, and in a loud and clear voice spoke into the mic: “Angela Barrett. I’m a housewife and part time babysitter.”
The Windsor’s attorney, Ms. Leslie Slater stood up and buttoned up her coat. She tossed her hair behind her shoulder and smiled pleasantly, but I wasn’t fooled for a second.
She was a shark who would go for the kill as soon as she smelled blood.
In this case, the blood was mine.
Her gaze sidled over to me, and I narrowed my gaze and gave her a steely smile in return.
“Mrs. Barrett, when did you first meet Mr. Baker?”
“Not that long ago, a few weeks, I guess,” she responded.
“Under what circumstances did you two meet?” Leslie asked as she leaned her hip against the witness stand. The judge was staring at her, hanging on her every word.
“He called and asked if I could babysit his daughter for an afternoon.”
“And did he say why?”
“No, he didn’t.” Mrs. Barrett frowned, unsure where this line of question was going. She shot Emmett a worried look, but he gestured for her to continue, and that everything was fine.
“Mrs. Barrett, why do you think it was important for Mr. Baker, a man who already had a nanny, to hire one?”
Mrs. Barrett opened her mouth to respond, but Emmett was already on his feet. “Objection. Speculation.”
“Overruled,” the judge decided. “Ms. Slater, please stick to the point.”
“Let me rephrase, when you first met Mr. Baker, did it seem like he was worried about something?”
Mrs. Barrett looked confused. “How do you mean?”
“I mean did he mention anything in front of you or to you about this case?” Leslie asked, casually.
“Objection. How is this relevant?”
“Ms. Slater,” the judge warned, giving her a stern look.
Leslie backed off, gave an apologetic smile and shrugged. “Let’s come at it from another angle. Mrs. Barrett, do you have kids?”
“Yes, I do,” Mrs. Barrett puffed out her chest and smiled proudly. “I have a boy and a girl.”
Leslie smiled indulgently. “You must be so proud of them.”
“I am,” Mrs. Barrett confirmed.
“Mrs. Barrett, what would you do if someone tried to take your kids away from you?”
The corners of Mrs. Barrett’s mouth turned down. “I wouldn’t take kindly to that. I’d certainly fight them tooth and nail. They’d have a hell of a time getting past me.”
Leslie nodded understandingly. “What about when you have grandkids someday? Would you be okay with someone trying to take them?”
“Of course not.”
“So, Mrs. Barrett, tell me. Do you think it’s fair what Mr. Baker is trying to do? Separating a young girl from her maternal grandparents?”
“Objection. She’s leading the witness,” Emmett roared, his face turning red in fury.
That was a low blow, and I could see that some of the jury members were speculating about it.
When she put it like that, of course, I sounded like the big bad wolf.
It was far more complicated than that though.
There were extenuating circumstances that Leslie was failing to highlight.
Lyla leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Don’t let her get to you. She’s trying to rattle Mrs. Barrett.”
“I think it might be working,” I said through gritted teeth as I watched Mrs. Barrett glance around in confusion, some of her earlier perk gone.
“I’ll withdraw my question,” Leslie said, swiftly. “How about love, Mrs. Barrett? What do you think of that?”
“I think it’s a wonderful thing,” Mrs. Barrett said, slowly, cautiously, as if whatever she said could be used against her.
“Based on what you’ve witnessed so far, would you say that Mrs. Baker and Mr. Baker are truly in love?”
“Objection. Mrs. Barrett is not an expert, and we are not here to assess their marital state.”
“It’s relevant to my line of questioning, and it will become clear based on Mrs. Barrett’s answer.”
The judge considered this before she nodded. “I’ll allow it. Answer the question, Mrs. Barrett.”
Mrs. Barrett clasped her hands in front of her. “I do believe that they are, yes. I’ve never seen two people who are happier or more compatible.”
“Even though you’ve only been in their company for a few weeks now? That’s presumptuous” Leslie said derisively.
“But I—” Mrs. Barrett again, stammering as her face flushed. “It’s true.”
“No further questions your honor,” Leslie said scathingly. She strode back to her seat, her entire body language oozing smug satisfaction.
Emmett stood up and offered Mrs. Barrett a sweet smile
. “Mrs. Barrett, you’ve taken care of a lot of kids, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And would you say that you have an idea of what that should be like?” Emmett crossed one leg over the other as he leaned against the desk.
“To a certain extent, yes,” Mrs. Barrett allowed.
“And has Mr. Baker, to your knowledge, been able to take care of Emily?”
“He most certainly has. He has a very hands-on approach when it comes to Emily, and he likes to help out with everything. It’s rare to see a man who does what he does.”
“I see.” Emmett nodded as if he didn’t know this. “And would you say he’s ever been negligent?”
“Not at all.” Mrs. Barrett shook her head firmly.
“How about Mrs. Baker?”
“She’s a natural,” Mrs. Barrett began. “That woman is a natural born mother. She has the instincts, the patience and the empathy. She’s a wonderful mother to Emily.”
“No further questions, Mrs. Barrett, thank you.”
Mrs. Barrett nodded, stood up and exited the stand, giving us a comforting smile on her way back to her seat.
“How are we doing so far?” I whispered under my breath to Emmett, who was flipping through his notes. He inclined his head towards me.
“So far, we’re doing okay.”
“Do you think we should bust out our secret weapon yet?” Lyla asked quietly, her blue eyes shining with worry.
I took her hand in mine and kissed the edge of her wrist. “I don’t think it’s time yet, darling. They need to think they’re winning first.”
“You could definitely be a lawyer,” Emmett commented, his voice sounding impressed.
“Nah, I’ll leave that to you.”
Emmett chuckled. “Alright, fair enough.”
“Next witness,” the judge called out as she leaned back in her chair, an impassive expression on her face.
“What do you think the jury thinks?” I asked.
“It’s split fifty-fifty, I think, but we’ll see,” Emmett said distractedly, as he wrote down something on his notepad.
“We would like to call Dr. Ramon to the stand,” Leslie said next.
A distinguished looking doctor in his 40s walked out in a crisp black suit with his hair neatly combed to the side. He stopped near the Windsor’s table, where both lawyers spoke briefly to him.
A Baby for the Officer: Boys of Rockford #1 Page 11
