Cowboy Baby Daddy

by Claire Adams

  The hot blanket wrapping me up tightly.

  The refilling of my drink.

  A light kiss pressed to my sweating forehead.

  Christian was an absolute gentleman, worried about what was going on with me. He was intelligent, kind, proud in a way that made him successful, but sensitive when he needed to be. He was the perfect combination of animal and man that made him perfect for the world he snubbed his nose at, and the only thing his kindness served to do was make me even more nauseous.

  Holy fuck, what had I done?

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Christian

  The entire plane ride was spent trying to make sure Stella was comfortable. She was pale, her hands were trembling, and every time she swallowed it looked like she was trying not to puke. I was concerned about her, but all I could do was try to make her comfortable. I massaged her legs to make sure they didn’t grow stiff while she was sleeping, I tucked her in to try and keep her warm, and I kept refreshing her drink.

  Stella hated it when the ice melted and watered down her drink.

  She’d open her eyes for briefly to look at me, and it seemed as if the life was draining from her eyes. It must’ve had something to do with that phone call she’d taken earlier, and I had half a mind to take her phone from her pocket and hit redial. But, I knew if she wanted to talk about it, she would.

  I bet that fucking asshole Greyson called her.

  She really needed to block his number.

  She woke up about halfway through the plane ride and sat up. She looked over at me hesitantly before she grabbed her drink, chugging it down as the neck pillow fell. I removed it before I started rubbing her back, trying to get her to relax a little more, and I flagged the flight attendant down so I could get her another drink.

  “How’re you feeling?” I asked.

  “I think I’m just stressed. This weekend was such a whirlwind, and now I’m crashing from it, but I still need to file some things away in the office before I can go home,” she said.

  “Leave that to me. If you leave me the key to your office, I can do it,” I said.

  “No, no. It’s alright. It’s not much. What do you need done at the office? I can do it for you,” she said.

  “You’re not doing anything. If anything, I need to do something for you. You’ve got sick days, by the time we land it’ll be right before lunchtime because of the time change. Take a day and go home.”

  “Christian, I’m fine. You could use a workday at home, though. Take your laptop and go home,” she said.

  “I don’t need to work at home. I need to make sure you’re alright,” I said as I grabbed for the drink the flight attendant brought me.

  “You work on the weekends. I drive by and see your car in the lot. Seriously, it’s just a quick peek into the office. It’ll be nothing, and then I can bring lunch over to your place. How does that sound?” she asked.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t want me in the office,” I said, smirking.

  “And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were addicted to it,” she said.

  “If by ‘it,’ you mean ‘you,’ then yes,” I said.

  “Oh, always the romantic,” she sighed playfully. “But really. Go home when we land. It’s a quick trip to the office, then I’ll grab us lunch.”

  “Look, I have to go back for some paperwork anyway, so it’s fine. I parked my car at the office before I went to the airport, so we can both ride back to my place in my car. I promise it’s not a big deal.”

  I finally got her to back off the issue, but she didn’t seem happy about it. I had to pick up some paperwork I had to fill out and send to the warehouses now that we had everyone’s signature of approval, and in the meantime, I could grab my calendar on my desk in case any of the web developers happened to call. I was excited about the prospect of curling up in my house with Stella for lunch, and I figured if I hunkered down in bed with her while I worked, she could sleep off whatever this was that made her sick.

  And if I worked hard enough, maybe I could finish some of hers as a surprise.

  She fell back asleep for the rest of the plane ride, and I had to wake her up so we could deplane. We grabbed our things and headed straight for her car, which she’d parked at the airport, and we made our way to the office. We wound through town, her hands white-knuckling the steering wheel, and I was starting to get nervous about the entire situation.

  Had Greyson called to corner her at the office? Was I walking into a scenario where I’d have to punch this asshole in the mouth?

  I watched Stella send a message on her phone when we were waiting at a stoplight, and I tried to peek over to see who it was. She typed something quickly before sending off the message, then she put her eyes back on the road as the phone dropped between her legs. I studied her closely, watching the way she bent toward the wheel. Her shoulders were trembling, and her hands were getting tired from gripping the steering wheel so tightly. She sped all the way through town and sped up through every single yellow light. By the time I finally worked up the courage to ask her what the hell was going on, we pulled into the parking lot of the office and parked next to my car.

  She ripped her seat belt off and jumped out, crashing through the front door before I could hit the sidewalk. She didn’t even bother to shut the door behind her, and I felt my heart leap into my throat. Something was looming over Stella’s head, and I felt my gut churn with nerves.

  But, when I walked into the office, I didn’t see Greyson at all.

  The only person I saw was the lawyer the company kept on speed dial in case we needed anything.

  I saw Stella tugging on his arm, trying to say something to him while he shrugged her off. I saw her flicking her gaze over to me as they both stood outside her office, and the stack of paperwork I saw dangling from his hands warned of something terrible.

  “Christian, I need you to listen to me.”

  “Christian Gunn,” the lawyer began, “I am here to inform you that you are relieved of your position as owner and CEO of Harte to Heart Medical Supplies.”

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  “Christian, listen—”

  “The company has defaulted back to Stella. For now, she is the owner and CEO. Because of a growing issue with unallocated stock in her father’s name, Stella will own and operate the company until such time as we can settle that part of his estate. Until then, the entity of his property, licenses, and assets default to the family.”

  “I am family,” I said.

  “Blood-related family,” the lawyer said.

  I took the paperwork from his hands and scanned it while Stella’s watering gaze begged me to look up at her. This was the phone call she had received. Her lawyer must’ve called, and she must’ve planned to blindside me with this at a later date. That’s why she didn’t want me coming to the office.

  So she could meet with him and get everything in order to kick me out.

  “Stella?” I asked.

  “She no longer has control over this process,” the lawyer said. “Once we found the unallocated stock still in her father’s name, everything legally defaulted back to her. Assets can be divvied up once they are all accounted for, and the 10 percent stock unallocated and still in your stepfather’s name ties all this up legally until it is contested and settled.”

  “None of that even sounds remotely right,” I said.

  “Christian.”

  Stella’s weak voice finally drew my gaze over to her, and the paleness of her cheeks were now streaked with the wetness of her tears. Even if the lawyer was right, and she no longer had any control over this, it was her witch hunt that started it. Her selfish inability to accept me as the owner and operator of a company she thought she deserved had brought us to this point.

  I dropped my eyes back to the paperwork as the lawyer continued to drone on in the background. I can’t believe I had been so stupid as to drop my guard. Oh, she was good. Stella was a fucking shark.
She knew precisely how to wiggle her way in so I would drop my guard, and she had no qualms about doing it. She knew I was onto her from the first meeting on day one, and she’d found an entrance into my life that would tap into my emotions.

  Her and Greyson were fucking perfect for each other.

  My anger quickly turned to sadness at the idea what we’d just shared was nothing more than a ruse. I’d exposed myself to her. Pulled out my soul for her. And here she was throwing it back in my face for a company her father had no intentions of giving to her. She was so power-hungry and so grief-stricken at the idea she wasn’t in charge, and I no longer had the energy to fight with her on it.

  I no longer had the energy to even look at her.

  “Christian, please,” she begged.

  I turned toward the exit and walked out with the paperwork in my hand. I didn’t care about the work I had to do today, the paperwork or calendar I had to grab in my office, or if Stella ate or got her shit home. I opened her trunk, tossing her bags onto the pavement to get to mine. I hopped into my car, and I backed out to go home as she was running out of the building.

  I looked in the rearview mirror and saw her screaming for me, but all I could do was speed faster down the road.

  Everything I thought was real was merely a way for her to take the company from me. Everything we shared — our bodies, our memories, our emotions — was nothing more than tools for her to use in her inevitable climb to the top.

  How the fuck could she do this to me?

  How the hell could she live with herself after what she’d just done?

  I couldn’t go home, but there was no reason to stay here. I couldn’t stomach working, but I didn’t feel like doing much of anything. I got onto the highway and sped up, weaving in and out of traffic as my mind spiraled.

  I saw her eyes.

  Her smile.

  Her writhing body as my tongue played between her legs.

  All a fucking lie just so she could have what she wanted most.

  Well, it was hers, and there was nothing else I could do about it. I found myself taking the exit to Todd’s house as I merged over three lanes of traffic to get there.

  Chapter Thirty

  Stella

  I screamed for him across the parking lot. Begging for him to turn around. I needed him to come back so I could explain. Explain that things were different. Changed. Better. I had to tell him I was better with him, that the company was better with him. I had to let him know how proud I was of him for being the man we all knew he could be, for succeeding in a role he was born for.

  I had to tell him he was right. That my father did have a plan and had made the right decision from the get-go, and it just took me time to realize it. The moments I spent swimming in his eyes and tangling myself with his body. The hours I spent talking with him and allowing him to help me, opening me up to an entire world I knew nothing about.

  I just needed time, and he’d given it to me.

  “Christian!”

  I cried out his name in the parking lot as he sped away, his silent form imprinted on my mind. The San Diego air swirled around me while the sun beat down on my shoulders, and I clutched my copy of the paperwork while tears streamed down my face.

  How could I have been so stupid?

  How the hell was I going to fix this?

  I watched his car until he disappeared into the horizon, then I stood there hoping he would come back. I cried, begging for him to turn around. To give me a chance to explain. Not to defend myself, but to tell him how I’d changed. How things were different. That I cared for him in a way I never understood I could, and how this business couldn’t succeed without him.

  How I couldn’t bear to lose him.

  But, his car didn’t turn around, and he never came back. He didn’t come racing back to wrap me in his arms or even give me a chance to explain. I didn’t hear the peel of tires rushing back into the parking lot, and I didn’t see his car dodging in and out of traffic to get back to me.

  But, I did see it while he was trying to get away from me.

  I slowly turned on my heels and made my way back to the office. My lawyer was standing there, elegant and stone-faced, and I wanted to slap him. Then curse him for going ahead without my permission. I wanted to yell at him that he was fired, that he made a move without my consent and that, legally, he couldn’t do that.

  “Miss Harte, it’s out of your hands at this point,” he said.

  “Why the fuck did you do this without my permission?” I asked breathlessly.

  “Technically, I had to report it. The unaccounted assets hold up everything in court. We can’t legally process your father’s last will and testament until we can settle his entire estate. His company is booming. Ten percent of stock is a large sum to settle.”

  “Why the fuck…”

  My hands were trembling as the papers spilled to the floor. The office was spinning around me, and it looked as if my lawyer had three faces. Three faces and six sets of beady little eyes, bearing down onto me like the harshness of the sun I’d just tried to escape. I felt like I couldn’t breathe as my back hit the firmness of the office wall, and I felt a hand come down onto my shoulder.

  And for a split second, I thought it was Christian. I hoped and prayed it was Christian. I silently begged within my mind for that hand to be Christian’s.

  But it wasn’t.

  It was just my lawyer’s.

  I should’ve gone after Christian. I could have dashed into my car and followed him down the road. Run every stoplight and skidded around every car. Outrun every cop as I tried to get to him. I should’ve followed him wherever he went until his gas tank ran out and we sputtered to the side of the road. Then, I would have bolted out of my car and fallen to my knees and groveled for his attention. Or, I could’ve run after him, tackling him to the ground while repeating how sorry I was for letting all of this spin out of control.

  For allowing my sorrows to drown me before I could find his hand underneath the cold, dark waters of fear and despair.

  “You’ve filed these?” I asked, pointing to the papers on the floor.

  “Yes. This morning, after I called you,” he said.

  “Why didn’t you wait?”

  “Some things transcend approval, Miss Harte. This happens to be one of these circumstances.”

  “This is not one of those circumstances!” I roared. I screamed so loudly my lawyer stepped back. I teetered on my feet as dark streaks burst in my vision, and I leaned into the wall for support before I slid to the floor.

  I felt the papers that had destroyed my life crumple underneath me as I tucked my hands between my curled-up legs.

  “It’s already done, Miss Harte,” he said. “The company’s officially yours.”

  I stared at the wall as every single memory bombarded my trembling body. Memories of his eyes and the way they seemed to cradle me within his soul. How he hugged me in the park, pulling me close and wrapping me in the safety or his arms. I remembered how his smile reminded me of my stepmother, moments where I let her close enough to be the mother she’d always wanted to be to me.

  I thought about the weekend we’d just spent together. The nights we spent tangled in each other’s bodies while sweat dripped down our back. Then nights where he woke me up sliding between my legs before holding my sleepy body close just so he could feel more of me. Mornings when I woke him up with his dick between my lips just so I could watch him moan in shock before giving into me.

  There was still so much I wanted to do with him. We could travel the world and experience all its treasures. Share decadent foods and have hot sex in hotel rooms across the country. I wanted to pin him against every wall and take his dick between my lips in every shower. And wake up every morning gazing into those beautiful blue eyes.

  Those eyes that reminded me of the love his mother had for me.

  Those eyes that shone with the love he had for me.

  “This is what you wanted, Miss Harte, is it
not?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “The company. Your father’s legacy. You can do it all now. Keep the company in the family. Preserve his memory. All those things you talked about. It’s yours now,” he said.

  “The company was in the family,” I said. “Christian was family. He still is family.”

  “Isn’t this what you wanted?” he asked.

  A couple of weeks ago, I would’ve said yes. I would’ve told him to process the paperwork without a second thought, and I would’ve kicked Christian to the curb. Two weeks ago, he was still an ignorant, lazy little boy in my eyes. He had no hope, no future, possessed no skills for this job and had no knowledge of the tasks at hand. He didn’t know the names of the employees or the reasons why my father did things the way he did. Hell, he didn’t even understand how to fucking dress in a decent suit!

  But, just as he’d helped me with my speaking in the park that day, I had helped him turn into the person his mother saw in him. I helped usher him into a world that brain of his was fit for. I had watched him quickly take his place in a chair he had fought against all his life, and he slid into it like it was made for him. With warmth and grace, a body that could shock any woman we met, and a handshake that could intimidate the largest of men.

  My father saw his potential, and his mother knew he had it within him. It had taken me wading through my grief to see the person he had grown to be.

  The businessman I helped him to become.

  “Miss Harte?” he asked. “Are you alright?”

  “I have to go find him,” I said as I stood up. “I have to go find Christian.”

  “Do you want me to gather this paperwork and slide it under your door?” he asked.

  “I want you to take that paperwork and shove it up your ass,” I said. “You’re fired.”

  “You cannot fire me, Miss Harte,” he said.

  “You said I’m the owner of this company now, correct?” I asked.

  “Well, yes,” he said.

  “And this company employs you, does it not?” I asked.

  “Well, yes,” he said.