The Baby Clause: A Christmas Romance

by Tara Wylde

  I open my mouth to say something and all that comes out is a deep sigh.

  Chance grins. “Yeah, I was able to last a little longer this time.”

  “Uh-huh,” I gurgle.

  My brain is having trouble holding onto coherent thoughts, but the one that keeps buzzing back again and again is how angry I am at my mother.

  Not exactly what you want to be thinking about at a moment like this, I know. But I can’t help feeling a deep resentment. She stole this from me for so long. She stole Chance from me. I know she was sick, but right now, I’m going to let myself feel this for a little while.

  I finally manage to pull myself together enough to form actual words.

  “Is it always like that?” I ask.

  “No,” he says immediately. “I mean… yeah, this was pretty great. You know, for your first time and all.”

  I give his six-pack a playful backhand.

  “Careful with the flattery, I’ll get a swelled head,” I say.

  He rolls onto his side so that he’s looking down at me.

  “It was amazing,” he says. “Really.”

  “Yeah, it was. Can we do it again?”

  His winces. “I don’t have any more condoms.”

  I pout my lips out like Marilyn Monroe.

  “Maybe we could do something that doesn’t need one,” he says.

  “That’s better,” I grin. “I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Are you sure you’re really okay about it? No lingering guilt or anything?”

  “None,” I say simply. “But I don’t know if I would have been able to do this with anyone other than you.”

  Whoa, Sara. What was that? You sleep with a guy once – well, twice – and you’re telling him he’s the only man who could have taken your cherry? Way to make him dash out the front door!

  Except he’s still there, looking at me. He didn’t move an inch.

  “I’m glad it was me,” he says. “I know that sounds selfish, but I don’t care.”

  Now I don’t know what to think. I just want to lie here and sleep in his arms, and then wake up and make him breakfast. Does every girl feel like this about her first? Am I moving too fast because of tonight? Or is it because it’s Chance?

  God help me, am I falling in love?

  Did I ever even fall out of it?

  85

  37. CHANCE

  For someone who’s just getting started on all this stuff, Sara could challenge the final exam and ace it.

  One hand soaps my back with her loofah sponge as the other strokes my hard shaft. My hands are propped against the shower wall to keep me from falling on my ass.

  “I should go on the pill,” she says matter-of-factly.

  “Uh,” I moan. “Sure. Okay. I mean, if you want.”

  “Every woman I know is on it. Except Grace, of course. She has the same hang-ups as I have.” She grips my cock tighter. “Had, I mean.”

  “Uh-huh,” I say as my hips respond to her strokes.

  “Am I going too fast?”

  “No, it’s perfect,” I sigh.

  “I mean… with us? Talking about birth control? With… everything?”

  “No,” I say without thinking. “It’s great.”

  Is it? I know that soon I have to start thinking about what we’re doing. In spite of everything, Sara still works for my enemy, and everything I’ve worked so hard to build is on the line.

  But all I know right at this moment is that I never want this to end.

  “I just don’t want to go too fast,” she says. “I mean, we’re just starting over… at least, I think we are. Are we?”

  I slide my cock out of her hand and turn to face her. The water sluices over my shoulders as she looks at me, eyes wide. The naked hope there hits me straight in the heart.

  “You mean is this a one-time thing?” I say. “No. Not by a long shot.”

  She smiles. How could I ever have thought of this as a conquest? It’s so much more.

  Suddenly, Tre’s voice is in my head: It’s different because it’s Sara. You can’t think strategically in that situation.

  I push the thought away and pull her closer, planting a kiss on those soft, full lips. She responds by taking the tip of my cock and gliding it around the entrance to her opening. Soon the two of us are bucking our hips again, holding onto each other to keep both of us from slipping and cracking our skulls.

  As the explosion becomes inevitable, I grab her hips in my hands and lean back against the shower wall. We both tremble and shake with the ecstasy and the effort of holding ourselves up. Finally, the heat of the shower and between our bodies melds into a cloud of steam that makes me feel like we’re floating together in a cloud.

  “God, I could get used to this,” she pants.

  So could I. And that could end up being the fatal flaw in my plan.

  86

  38. CHANCE

  “I thought I told you to take today off,” I say as Tre zombie-walks his way into my office. He looks like he’s been dragged through a knothole backwards, as Sully used to say.

  “Can’t,” he mutters. “Company’s at stake.”

  “I don’t think one day is going to make much of a difference either way,” I say. “Besides, you’re not going to be much use in this state.”

  He lowers himself slowly into a chair. I notice he’s actually not wearing a tie today, for the first time ever, and I grin.

  “I’m better now than you would be on your best day,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “How did it go last night? According to plan?”

  “Absolutely,” I lie.

  “All right. Do you think it’s going to make any difference?”

  “I don’t know.” That much is the truth.

  He sighs. “At the risk of sounding insubordinate, Chance, we need to get a handle on this thing. I’d be much happier if there was something more solid to hold onto than you getting Sara into bed.”

  This is the real reason I didn’t want Tre here today. I don’t need him adding to my frustration and confusion.

  “Look,” I say. “You just need to trust me on this.”

  “You’ve been saying that for a while now, dude. And I do trust you. But you have to remember, I don’t have stock in Atlas. If the Sullivans sell, you have the option of selling and retiring rich.”

  I glare at him. “It’s not that simple, and you know it.”

  “All right, all right,” he says, nodding gingerly. “But whatever happens, you’re still rich. You’ve been pulling in big money for years now. I, on the other hand, will be out job hunting the day after the sale.”

  “I know that,” I say, more sharply than I intended. “Why do you think I’m working so hard to keep it from happening?”

  “That’s just it. Are you working hard? Or are you just trying to sleep with Sara? Because, with all due respect, I’m not seeing a lot of results from that.”

  “Look, Tre, with all due respect, I’m the boss here. And that means I’m juggling a lot of different balls right now. I need your help if I’m going to pull it off.”

  He leans forward on the sofa and props his elbows on his knees.

  “Then let me in on the whole plan,” he says. “Let me help you. That’s what I’m here for.”

  I sigh. He’s right. There are a lot of wheels spinning inside other wheels here, and I do need him. But I’m just not sure he’s up for what I need him to do. Or whether I can trust him to pull it off. Too many questions without answers.

  “All right,” I say. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  87

  39. SARA

  I’ve barely been able to focus on work this morning, and now Chance wants to see me in his office. Like that’s going to help me get anything done.

  Still, maybe we could do a little… dictation while I’m there.

  Jesus, girl, snap out of it! It’s barely been twelve hours since Chance popped your cherry and you’re already running over porno scenarios in your mind.
Settle down!

  I smile at Karen as I approach the foyer of his office.

  “Hi, Sara,” she smiles back. “He’s just in with Tre right now. I’m sure he won’t be long.”

  I can’t help but flash back to this same scene at Quentin Pearce’s office yesterday and marvel at the difference: that was like waiting for a root canal. This is like waiting for Christmas.

  Thinking about that day reminds me of the conversation I eavesdropped on. What the hell was he on about? I can only assume he was talking to whoever he has lined up to buy Atlas if he manages to take it over. But who was it?

  And why was their relationship so antagonistic? Maybe it’s just the fact Quentin just brings the worst out of people. But maybe there’s more to it…

  Suddenly the door to Chance’s office slams open and Tre comes stalking out. He looks terrible – well, as terrible as he could possibly look, anyway.

  “You’re out of your fucking mind, man,” he barks as he passes Karen’s desk. “Count me out.”

  Just then he notices I’m there. Then he turns to Karen and shakes his head.

  “My apologies, ladies. That wasn’t meant for your ears.”

  Karen smiles. “I’ll expect a bonus on my next check,” she giggles.

  He turns to me. “I’m also sorry about last night,” he says sheepishly. “I don’t usually go overboard like that.”

  “Grace has that effect on people sometimes,” I grin, laying a hand on his arm. “I’ve been on the receiving end myself a time or twelve. She loved seeing you again.”

  “I enjoyed seeing her, too,” he says. “Tell her I said that, okay?”

  “I will.” I glance into Chance’s office and see the look on his face. “What was that all about?”

  Tre glowers and shakes his head. “Nothing you need to worry about. I’ve been dealing with this kind of stuff for years. Let’s just say that sometimes Chance thinks he’s a lot smarter than he really is, and I end up being the one who has to fix things.”

  Yikes. It’s the first time I’ve seen this side of their relationship since we reconnected. They used to fight occasionally when we were kids, but that’s normal between brothers. A lot of the time, it was because Chance was jealous of what Tre had. Again, pretty normal for a kid in Chance’s circumstances. Even I wished Tre’s mom was my mom once in a while.

  “Anything I can do to help?” I ask.

  He stares at me for a few moments before answering.

  “Tell him to smarten up,” he says. Then he shakes his head. “No, forget I said that. This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

  As I watch him stalk back toward his office, I can’t help but think he was lying to me.

  Chance motions me into his office. “It’s good to see you,” he says as I shut the door behind me.

  “You too,” I say. “Everything okay with you and Tre?”

  He frowns. “Nothing that I haven’t dealt with before. Sometimes Tre oversteps his authority and forgets that I’m the CEO.”

  “Hm,” I say.

  He cocks an eyebrow. “What?”

  “Just that you two used to squabble a lot when we were kids, and it usually turned out Tre was right.”

  “Don’t you start on me, too,” he says, rolling his eyes.

  He’s right. We’re not boyfriend and girlfriend – are we? We’re definitely not at the stage where I can start second-guessing him about anything, especially when, technically, he’s letting me actively work against him.

  God, this is such a crazy situation.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean anything, and I don’t know anything about this. I know you guys will eventually rise above it, so I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

  He smiles and takes my arms, pulling me close.

  “You don’t have to go that far,” he says, parting my lips with his and touching his tongue to the tip of mine.

  Suddenly my mind is flashing back to dictation fantasies again, and I forget all about Tre.

  88

  40. INTERLUDE: QUENTIN PEARCE

  “I hope I wasn’t overstepping my bounds by asking you here personally,” Pearce says, pouring scotch from a crystal decanter into a pair of tumblers on the bar in his office.

  “I’m being honest, it was a bit of a pain in the nuts,” says the man, sixty-ish with a shock of silver hair swept back from his high brow. His olive skin is in remarkable condition for someone his age.

  Pearce hands him a glass and motions for him to sit.

  “Normally I’m happy to follow the chain of command,” he says. “But I’m afraid dealing with your nephew has become, as you say, a pain in the nuts.”

  The man’s bushy eyebrows rise. “Not a lot of people got the guts to say that to my face.”

  “I’m not most people,” says Pearce, taking a full ounce of his scotch in a single gulp. “I don’t measure dicks, I measure profits. If there’s a problem with that, we can certainly part ways amicably.”

  The older man’s eyes flash, but he keeps his mouth shut. Pearce’s eyes, as usual, are impassive.

  “No need,” says the man. “I think we know where we stand with each other. From now on, you deal directly with me.”

  “Excellent,” says Pearce. “I’m sure neither of us wants to lose this opportunity.”

  The man swallows some scotch and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Pearce curls a lip at the gesture but says nothing.

  “I still don’t get why you’re so keen on this,” the man says. “I mean, it’s obvious for me. Buying Atlas will make me a shoe-in for a Senate run in 2020. Hell, the vice president himself showed up at the company golf tournament last summer. You can’t buy that kind of influence.”

  “Obviously you can,” says Pearce. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be doing this.”

  The man chuckles. “You got balls,” he says, nodding. “I like that.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that, since we’re going to be working closely for quite a long time.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “That’s why I’m brokering this sale,” says Pearce. “I have a thousand times more money than even a Kardashian could ever spend. It’s time to move into the next phase of my career.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “Political strategist.”

  The man’s eyes widen. Now he’s getting it.

  Pearce leans forward in his chair and places his empty tumbler on the glass coffee table.

  “You’re thinking Senate,” he says. “I’m thinking beyond that. And when you get there, you need someone to be your advisor.”

  The man glares at Pearce for several long moments.

  “Don’t you think that’s a little presumptuous?” he says.

  “More presumptuous than positioning an organized crime figure as the head of the world’s only humanitarian security company?”

  “Why, you little fuck – ”

  Pearce raises a hand. “Spare me. I don’t scare, period. Now, I have someone working on getting enough information to convince Chance Talbot to sell. I’m confident we’ll be in a position to buy without his interference at the end of the thirty days.”

  The man snarls. “Then why did you call me all the way here?”

  “Because I need you to do something for me that’s more in your wheelhouse than in mine, if you get what I’m saying.”

  “You ask for a lot, you know that?”

  “Yes, I do,” says Pearce. “And I deliver a lot. Now if you’d kindly listen to my request. We need this taken care of as quickly as possible.”

  89

  41. SARA

  “I’m getting impatient,” Pearce says on the other end of the line. “I hope my faith in you wasn’t misplaced.”

  I’m in a Starbucks up the block from Atlas’s offices, trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing and wondering how to keep Quentin from firing me and leaving me broke.

  “I can’t do it all in a week,” I say. “It’s a long process.
Interviews, research –”

  “I could have had anyone do that,” he says impatiently. “You’re supposed to be an investigator, and yet all I hear is praise for the company you’re supposed to be investigating.”

  My gut clenches at that. I’m starting to really like the people at Atlas, and I’m on the verge of betraying them all right now. But what choice do I have? Chance himself said I had to do what I had to do.

  “There is one thing,” I say, lowering my voice and turning toward the wall near my chair. It’s not like the other caffeine addicts are eavesdropping, but I don’t need to take unnecessary chances.

  “Good,” he says. “What is it?”

  “There’s a bit of a gap in the accounting from the early days of the expansion period, when Patrick Sullivan was still the sole owner.”

  “Details?”

  “That’s just it: there are none. Atlas started to expand its scope and bring on more and more people. Wages and benefits went up. But I can’t find the source of the capital infusion.”

  “Hmm. An angel investor at Atlas? Intriguing.”

  “I wish I had more to give you, but I really need more time to follow up.”

  Quentin is silent long enough for me to wonder if he hung up and I didn’t notice.

  “All right,” he says finally. “I’ll expect a follow-up soon.”

  Of course you do. This time he actually does hang up.

  I tuck my phone back into my purse and drain the dregs of my latte before heading back out onto the avenue to the Atlas offices.

  Why couldn’t I just have run into Chance at a coffee shop and rekindled things that way? Why does there have to be all this ridiculous intrigue around what we’re doing? Everything feels like it’s stuck in a giant web. I don’t know what to think anymore.

  As I reach the lobby, I see Karen walking out of the building.

  “Hey, Karen,” I say. “What’s up?”

  “I’m taking a break,” she says without her trademark style. “Things are getting a little tense up there.”

  “Why, what’s going on?”