Mickey's Baby

by Annie J. Rose

  I didn’t envy her. Of course, I didn’t. Just because she brought her O’Shea up to scratch and mine was more interested in dicking around. No, that was unfair. We were both dicking around. Neither one in a hurry to commit or make things official in any real way. I didn’t like labels on relationships after being burned before.

  “So, you still talking with Mickey?” she said.

  “I’m here to work with my best friend. If I run into an O’Shea or five, that’s no surprise. But it’s not why I moved here. He’s a nice guy, but I’m focused on my work.”

  “Does that mean you’re not still talking to him?”

  “We haven’t talked in a few days. I don’t know where his head is where I’m concerned,” I said.

  “So ask him,” she said.

  “Oh my Lord, you haven’t been coupled up so long you forget how it is to be single! I can’t just ask a guy if he wants to be exclusive. You know that makes their dicks fall right off,” I said.

  “You are so cynical,” she replied. “Men are no more commitment-phobic than women.”

  “You say that, but I don’t know a lot of women who are like, oh no don’t tie me down!”

  “Um, YOU!” she laughed, “You don’t even want to unpack all your stuff. You got a storage unit!”

  “That’s because I’m going to find a place I like that’s in my price range.”

  “You should stay at the cabins. You would get to be my neighbor, plus the rent is free and the view is great. Brandi’s terrific, the baby is cute as a bug, and the O’Shea brothers make excellent eye candy when they go for runs on the beach or work out in the courtyard.”

  “As much as I’d love to join you and Brandi at the compound and play sister wives with you,” I said sarcastically, “I am only staying there until I get a place of my own. I like my privacy.”

  “Is it because of Mickey?” she asked.

  “No!” I said too quickly, “although now that you mention it, it wouldn’t be any fun watching him bring home a date or go to a bonfire or a picnic and get to see him making out with some random girl.”

  “Does he seem like someone who makes out with random girls?” Elise asked. I grunted in response. I was more likely to hook up with a rando than he was, but I still knew I couldn’t stomach watching him move on when this fizzled out, as he was bound to do.

  Chapter 3

  Mickey

  “Keep your arse in your pants, you big baby,” I bellowed at Tommy, who was handling the bar and wanted more cases of beer brought in. “You act like your legs are broken. Remember, Elise is pregnant, not you!”

  “I’m management. Management doesn’t have to haul cases of longnecks.”

  “You made Billy roll the half keg in this morning, didn’t you?” I asked. I stomped into the back room and hoisted a couple of cases onto my shoulders.

  “Why shouldn’t he? It’s an O’Shea enterprise. We club together to make it work.”

  “Why is it your contribution seems to be bossing me around?” I asked, not really annoyed just talking shit to him because it’s what we did.

  I strode out to the bar and nearly dropped the cases of beer. It would’ve been a shower of broken glass with the scent of the wet hops of beer pooling at my feet if I hadn’t caught them just in time. Elise had walked in with Karin while I’d been in the back. I didn’t take my eyes off Karin as I shoved the cases across the bar to Tommy without a second glance. I went straight to her and grabbed her in my arms, lifting her right off her feet. My hand between her shoulder blades felt so good, the coconut smell of her lotion and the rightness of her body in my arms.

  “I’m happy to see you,” I said against her neck.

  She hugged me back, but it felt a little half-hearted or tentative. If I said anything or asked Tommy what it looked like to him, he’d call me a girl and offer to braid my hair while I talked about my feelings.

  I set her back on her feet, and she said, “Good to see you, Mick.”

  Then she went to the bar and greeted Tommy. Brendan came in, because it was like he had radar when his fiancée showed up anywhere. If they didn’t arrive together, he’d intuit where she was and materialize. It wasn’t like they didn’t live together, but the man acted like he could never see her enough. I was a grouch about it the last month, alone in my cabin and wishing Karin was back. It didn’t take a genius to figure out I was jealous. They were together, engaged, expecting a baby. I was hoping my hook up would still like me when she moved here. It sounded so much like teen angst and not at all like an ex-SEAL in his thirties who owned his own business and was building an entertainment empire in the Caribbean with his brothers. I was faintly embarrassed about it.

  The women sat at a table, and Tommy made Karin a Mai Tai while Brendan got Elise a glass of fresh squeezed lemonade. Karin sipped at her drink and took a bite from the wedge of pineapple garnishing her glass.

  “Damn, it’s good to be back. Day drinking on day one,” she said with a laugh. Her laugh was so gorgeous, a full body experience. I loved making her laugh and hearing her so relaxed and happy. It reassured me to see her so at ease.

  “So, Bren, I was telling Karin that even though we haven’t had the gender scan yet for the baby, obviously we plan to name it Karin O’Shea either way,” Elise joked.

  “Don’t you want to save that name?” Brendan said, eyeing me. I kicked the shit out of his shin under the table. “Ow, goddammit, Mickey. I just meant having more than one Karin O’Shea would be confusing. We don’t want to have to call her Karin Junior do we?”

  “The name’s Wright, Brendan. I thought we’d met. Although I can understand assuming everyone on this island is named O’Shea. What with all your brothers and Brandi and Lilly, soon to be Elise and the baby. You make up probably half the population of St. Martin by now,” Karin said sarcastically. I winced a little at her response, her idle glossing over of the idea that she and I might, someday, down the road, consider marriage to each other.

  “See, I thought maybe you had your eye on Tommy here,” I said. “He’s a nice kid and he could use a strong woman to carry beer cases for him.”

  “I see no reason why I should have to cart the stock around myself. Connor’s the majority owner, and I’m the manager and have a stake in the profits.”

  “You can always ask one of the servers to carry them for you if you’re afraid to break a nail,” Brendan put in. I laughed.

  “Mickey swims around all day telling pretty tourists how to hold their breath underwater. I bet he even gets to give them mouth to mouth,” Tommy grumbled, “it’s not like he’s breaking his back at work.”

  If he hadn’t been behind the bar, I would’ve kicked the shit out of his leg too. Yes, please tell the girl I’ve been seeing that most of my lessons are with attractive young women in bright bikinis who would like me to help them adjust their diving equipment and regularly give me their room numbers, you impossible dipshit, I thought.

  “What are you most excited to do here on the island? Apart from my brother, obviously,” Brendan asked. I rammed my foot into his shin again and he shot me a dirty look. He was being so obnoxious.

  “Well, I want to get into my new studio space and get it set up. I want to take Elise baby clothes shopping. I ordered a box of props for newborn portraits that should be here tomorrow.”

  “I’m not even halfway through my pregnancy!” Elise exclaimed, but I could tell she was pleased by the way she touched her belly.

  “An auntie likes to be prepared. I’m doing a baby bird nest with a feathery white quilt in it, and I ordered a pink cocoon, the gauzy sort we bundle her into when she’s brand new.”

  “If she’s a boy—” Elise cautioned.

  “Then you’re naming him Karin anyway, so I might as well get it monogrammed now,” she teased.

  “Are you going to let Mickey take you diving?” Tommy asked.

  “I’ve got a lot of work to do,” Karin said, “but I’ll keep it in mind. I’m sure he’s busy with the tourist
s.”

  “We all keep busy, but we’ve always got time for family,” Brendan said.

  “Is that what I am now? An honorary O’Shea?” Karin asked skeptically.

  “Absolutely,” Elise said.

  “Then do I get free drinks anytime I come here?” she asked.

  Tommy shrugged and looked at me. I shrugged back. I didn’t want to pipe up and say she was my girlfriend so her drinks were on the house. First of all, she wasn’t exactly my girlfriend. Second of all, she could drink several of us under the table. I’d seen her when she really got going. Elise got tipsy very easily. Karin, not so much.

  “Have you seen her drink?” Elise snorted. “She could put you out of business. You’d be bankrupt in a month. OW!” she said.

  Clearly Karin had kicked her under the table. I gave a half-smile in solidarity. Our nearest and dearest were trying to embarrass us both evidently.

  Elise burped loudly, and we all looked at her with eyebrows up.

  “What? I have reflux! There’s an old wives tale that if you have heartburn, the baby has a lot of hair. Well, baby Karin Junior must be as hairy as Bigfoot. Because the burping is killing me.”

  “Do you need some antacid?” Tommy said.

  “I’m not sure that’s safe. So I don’t take anything for it. When I go back to the doctor, I’m going to ask. Listen, I love all of you, and Karin, I’m thrilled you’re here. But pregnancy is kicking my ass. I’m going to take a nap,” Elise said.

  Brendan swooped in to hover over her and take her home. Karin got up to go with them, but Elise waved her off and told her to stay. She looked around like she was unsure.

  “Will you hang around for a minute?” I asked, hoping it would be enough. She nodded.

  “I’ll see you later,” she told Elise, “have a good nap.”

  I went to the backroom and carried in the last two cases Tommy would need for the evening rush. Then I grabbed my keys and leaned over beside Karin.

  “Are you ready?” I said, my lips brushing her ear. I felt her shiver. That response was like a jackpot to me. She nodded and got up to go with me.

  “Are you two leaving me here? Alone?” Tommy asked.

  “The kitchen staff is here,” I said, “and you’re a grown man.”

  “Fine. Abandon me. Have fun,” he said.

  I drove Karin back to the resort, not knowing what to say. I thought if I said anything, I’d say too much. So I walked her to her cabin and handed her the key.

  She stepped in and gave a gasp of awe. I had stopped by earlier, put some stuff in the fridge, and set out six bouquets of tropical flowers. The air in the cabin smelled heady and sweet from the flowers. She turned to me and she was grinning, no sarcasm for once.

  “Did you do this? This is amazing!” she said. She was obviously surprised and pleased.

  I took her in my arms and nuzzled her neck, “Do you have any idea how much I missed you?” I asked.

  Then my mouth was on her neck as I kicked the door shut behind me.

  Chapter 4

  Karin

  I had expected the cabin to be kind of a mess. It was one of the unoccupied ones at the resort that the O’Shea brothers were slowly restoring. I expected brown eighties carpeting and maybe some mice. Instead, it was so pretty, so nice. I knew instantly that it had been worked on recently, made ready for me.

  There was no nasty carpet in sight—just some laminate hardwood flooring and every surface clean and no smell of mice or mildew, a new window air conditioner up and running to keep the place cool. And the flowers, bunches and bunches of hibiscus and birds of paradise and bromeliad. Clusters of red and gold and shiny green leaves, the air redolent with the sweet perfume. It didn’t take a scientist to figure out that Mickey had done all this. Elise had a new business and morning sickness. The only person with the time and consideration to make everything ready for me was him.

  It hit me like a punch in the stomach. A guy I’d hooked up with a few times—more than a few, we’d been at it like rabbits during my stay on the island. It had been supposed to be a ten-day business trip that had stretched into a month. Then I’d gone home to finish my accounts and pack and sublet my apartment. And all that time, I’d wondered if I would be out of sight, out of mind for him.

  He was a hot ass ex-Navy SEAL with great shoulders, a tan, and a flourishing diving excursion business. He wouldn’t have trouble finding someone to warm his bed if he got lonesome. I had told myself a thousand times in the last few weeks that we were nothing serious, that it was no big deal if he found someone else while I was gone. We were friends with benefits, nothing more.

  But looking around that fixed-up cabin and taking in all those flowers, I knew I’d been lying to myself. It was a big deal. If he so much as looked at another woman, I’d probably knock her teeth out. No one had ever given me flowers before, much less so many of them and as such an extravagant welcome home gesture. I liked him. A lot. On the scale of inconvenient like a coffee spill to catastrophic like a house fire, this was Bad Fucking News, just below the worst of the worst. I did a lot of things in my life, but catching feelings was not one of them.

  I was not going to catch feelings for Mickey O’Shea. Sure, he ripped out crappy flooring, replaced it, put in a new air conditioning unit, and got me flowers, but that didn’t mean anything. They had to fix the place up anyway, right? So this was a good excuse to start with my temporary cabin. It was nothing personal at all probably. I shook myself and put on a smile because he’d done something nice and I was happier to see him than I was willing to admit.

  His mouth on my neck didn’t change that. It just felt like a million sexy snowflakes fell on my skin and tickled as they melted.

  We should not be doing this.

  I didn’t move to the island for this.

  I moved here to go into business with my best friend. She was the one who moved here for a man. Not me. Never me.

  This wasn’t like me at all, giving in when it was against my better judgment. Those damn flowers had softened me up. But if I was honest with myself, I was already soft when it came the Mickey. I’d wanted him since I saw him in the pub, since I landed at the airport and wished he had come for me instead of my friend.

  My flesh heated, my body already opening for him. It wasn’t as if we were doing anything we had not done before in his cabin or in my hotel room. If I let myself have this, just this once, we wouldn’t do it again, I told myself. Just once to thank him for fixing up the place for me, I lied to myself. Not for me at all.

  Except there were Mickey’s hands up my tank top already, his calloused fingers working my tight nipple, making me give a shuddering sigh. I was wet for him already. I wanted him so much. I reached for his hand, not waiting, not wanting to be seduced. I shoved his hand up my skirt.

  “You’re not wearing panties,” he groaned, and bit the thin skin between my shoulder and my neck. It felt like a bolt of electricity straight between my legs.

  I gripped his wrist and moved his hand so he could feel my wetness. Just like that, he pulled away from my grip and reached around, cupping my ass in his hand. His other hand left my nipple, which frustrated me. Both hands were under my skirt now, rubbing my ass cheeks. I had no idea how that made my skin tingle and my body heat even more. Then his fingers, those long, calloused fingers I thought about when I masturbated back in New York, those long fingers crept forward, his fingertip brushing barely against my lower lips that were so damp and swollen for him. That slight touch sent a shudder through my whole body. My knees went liquid and I had to hold on to the kitchen counter to stay upright. His hands were trapped between the cabinet door and my body. His fingers brushed between my legs, exploring, touching me faintly, teasing me. I wanted to slap him with my open hand and demand that he get on with it, quit winding me up. I wasn’t a woman who liked being teased. I liked getting what I wanted and moving on. The quickest, most efficient orgasm. Teasing was the opposite of what I wanted. So why did it make hot wetness just pour from
me? I felt it on my thighs.

  My breathing was ragged and sharp in the quiet kitchen, where only the air conditioner made noise.

  “Turn around,” he said, leaning in to brush his lips against my ear.

  I did just that, my hands on the cabinet. I felt him ruffle my skirt up and expose my naked ass. His hands were on my bare hips. He tugged me back, bent me over. I gave a moan before he even did more than bend me over. This was what I wanted. Hard and fast and deep. Mickey was distracting, his blue eyes and square jaw, and his body that looked like a personal trainer’s wet dream. If I didn’t have to look at him, I might be able to convince myself that this didn’t mean more than it did.

  I heard his zipper. I wanted to scream and applaud because I knew what I was about to get. The best dick I’d ever had. The size, the girth, the way he used it. It was poetry every time. Just feeling the flare of his head against my wet slit did things to me, a whimper of anticipation, my hands spreading out on the counter to try and brace myself. I knew how big he was, and how he’d probably ram me right into the cabinet when he got going. I didn’t care. I just backed my hips up to try and make him breach my sex before he was ready. I wanted him, all of him filling me. I wanted Mickey O’Shea. One more time before I gave him up. Or maybe twice.

  “Oh!” I cried.

  I felt him draw back from me. He was one hundred percent alpha male tonight, unwilling to let me have my own way. I wanted to say I was frustrated, but it was a huge turn on. His hands stroked my back through my tank and rubbed my ass and the backs of my thighs, making me twitch with anticipation.

  “Have you missed me?” he asked, sounding mischievous. He shoved my top up and his mouth was hot on my back. I jerked at the unexpected contact, bent further to lay my cheek on the countertop to try and fail to cool myself off.