The Bad Boy's Baby (Hope Springs) (7 page)

He tilted his head and stared, challenging her to challenge him.
Mission accepted.

“Cam, it’s my car. You can’t just order me to do something with it. I’m not one of your soldiers, and just because we have a daughter together, and you’re kinda, sorta my client right now, doesn’t mean you get to control every aspect of my life.”

“Well, I have the keys, and I’m not giving them back.” One eyebrow arched, and he spread his arms wide. “If you think you can wrestle them from me, feel free.”

Irritation rose up, but as she took in his cocky posture, so did that darn thread of attraction. Part of her wanted to dive on top of him and dig around in his pockets, but possession of her keys wouldn’t exactly be her top priority if she were bold enough to make that kind of move.

With a smug grin, he lifted his chin. “Keep my truck until I’m done. At least if the car breaks down on me, I’ll know how to fix it.”

Emma stuck a finger in the air and made an
O
in the space between them. “We’ll circle back around to this, so don’t go thinking you’ve won. But before I forget, I wanted to ask one more question about Zoey. Any problems getting her to go to bed?”

“Nope, it went just like you said. I put in the movie, listened to a whole bunch of singing, and she crashed out halfway through.”

Emma glanced at the television screen, which had finished scrolling through the credits and was now on the DVD menu, the same obnoxious notes playing over and over. “But you finished the movie anyway?”

He hooked his thumbs in his pockets as a crooked grin curved his lips, the boyish gesture from such a burly guy sending another surge of attraction through her. “I figured I might as well see how it turned out. In case Zoey needed to discuss it later.”

“Of course,” she said, grinning at him. He grinned back, and butterflies erupted in her stomach.

Okay. I’m going to need to cut myself off before I lose my mind and fling myself into his arms—or before I decide to actually go digging through his pockets.
Right now the focus was Zoey. If she and Cam crossed lines—if he even wanted to, which was unlikely—it’d only make a mess of an already messy situation.

Time to employ my self-control.
“Well, thanks again. Now, my keys, please, so I can take in my car to get it repaired.” She extended her palm.

He smacked it like she’d asked for five, not her keys. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning at Mountain Ridge.” He hesitated as he started past, and she thought he’d tell her he was kidding about the car and hand her the keys.

But then he ran his hand down her arm and gave her hand a quick squeeze that made her temporarily forget not only her car, but also that she’d decided against lusting after the father of her child. “I’m totally exhausted after a few hours with Zoey. Not sure how you do it all the time, but I swear, I’m going to try to figure out this whole dad thing.”

“So that’s still the plan? Tonight didn’t scare you away?” She was mostly kidding, but part of her expected him to back out. Things would never go back to the same, but she and Zoey could deal better if they found out now, as opposed to dragging it out and getting attached, only to have him change his mind.

“Oh, it scared me a little,” he said with a laugh. “And it might take me some time to adjust, but I’m still on board with the plan to get to know my daughter.”

With the attraction vibes rising, she needed that reminder. He was here because of Zoey. This talk was good, because it put it all in perspective again.

But it didn’t stop her from checking out his butt or thinking about how nicely he filled out his jeans as she watched him walk out the door.

Chapter Nine

Emma sat across from Sadie and Quinn on Friday night and sagged against the back of the wooden bench, sitting down for the first time today, with the exception of driving, which was never as relaxing as it should be.

“Yay, you made it!” Sadie signaled for the waitress passing by and asked her to add one more to their order. Emma didn’t even care what the one more was, she’d take it.

“Yeah, Zoey loves Madison so much now that I can hardly get a kiss good-bye, because she’s too excited to play.” The fourteen-year-old babysitter and Zoey had quickly bonded, which made it so much easier to relax and enjoy her worry-free girls’ night out.

“How’s your week been?” Quinn asked, leaning in.

“Like the craziest week ever. I have a feeling that you knew that, though.”

Quinn shrugged. “Yeah, but I want to hear it from you. Remember how Sadie and I decided that we missed out in high school because we were too busy blathering on and on to each other to stop and get to know you? I’m trying to learn from my mistakes.”

Having girlfriends was still new for Emma. She’d had a few decent friends in high school, but none that she’d ever felt super close to, and while girls’ night out was new, she was starting to get used to it. She was also finding it made her entire week better.

“Does the rest of the town know?” Emma lowered her voice even more. “About Cam being Zoey’s daddy?” She glanced around The Triple S, eyeing the faces for traces of knowing the secret she’d kept for so long. “Who won the pool?”

The waitress brought their drinks before Sadie or Quinn could answer. Coors—that worked—and relief went through her at the sight of the amber-colored bottle. Sometimes Quinn ordered tequila, and history had proved that shots made Emma temporarily lose her mind. Then she went and did things like recklessly sleep with the deploying military guy she’d had a crush on since forever. Ever since that night, she’d stuck with only an occasional drink here and there. Maybe that made her boring, but she was a responsible person who usually followed the rules. No getting around it, and now that she was a mom, it was a necessity.

As soon as they were alone again, Quinn said, “I think the town eventually rewarded the pool money to Lori Branson—she had ‘sperm donor’ down as Zoey’s father, and everyone finally agreed she was probably right.”

Emma smiled at the joke the entire town no doubt loved, but inside she cracked a little. Of course they thought she would need a sperm donor. It’d been years since she’d given the town’s gossip a second thought—getting pregnant while unwed meant she’d had to grow a thick skin. Several of the quilting ladies had attempted to get information about the daddy out of her, and she knew a pool had been started, everyone throwing in five bucks to make their guesses. She’d thought her ex-boyfriend Ricky would be the popular choice, even though she’d forever be glad Zoey wasn’t his.

“Ignore them all,” Sadie said, swiping a hand through the air. “As far as I know, the only people who know the truth are Quinn and me. And Royce and Heath, of course. But none of us will say a word. People will probably start to make assumptions about you and Cam spending time together, though, whether it’s guessing Zoey’s paternity or just gossip about you two possibly being an item.”

“He’s only spending time with me so he can get to know Zoey,” she said, a hint of the dejection she felt over that fact accidentally coming out, and Sadie’s raised eyebrow made it clear she’d noticed.

Emma dropped her elbow on the table and tucked her cheek against her chin. “I know the truth will come out eventually. I need to talk to Cam about how and what we want to say. I’m sure once word spreads, everyone in town is going to want to play twenty questions.”

The top one would probably be
how
—more like how Emma had landed Cam for a night rather than asking for the exact details of how their daughter was conceived. Although with the nosy bunch of people who lived here, they might get a few of those, too.

Which was an unkind thought most of the townsfolk didn’t deserve, especially after they’d showed up with onesies, diapers, and homemade baby blankets, not to mention provided dinners for the first few weeks after Zoey was born. Without their help, as well as Grandma Bev’s constant check-ins, she didn’t know how she would’ve made it that first month.

Quinn patted her hand. “Aww, hon. You’ll be lucky if it’s under a hundred questions. Especially if Patsy Higgins is in charge of the inquisition.”

The three of them snorted at that.

“Quinn and I think she’s had CIA training,” Sadie said with a laugh. “How else would she know everything that happens in town before anyone else? The grandmotherly exterior is a genius front. No one expects it.”

They giggled again, and the ridiculous image of Patsy Higgins with a black ski mask covering her curly gray hair and her glasses perched outside the mask popped into Emma’s mind. As silly as that image was, the girls were right. The second the woman heard the news, everyone in town would know.

I better tell Grandma Bev, because if Patsy Higgins scoops her, my name will be mud.

“As soon as Rod finds out he has a granddaughter, he’s going to want to meet her,” Quinn said, bringing the sober mood back, despite the fact that they were getting more unsober by the second. “Oliver will want to meet her, too. When you’re ready, I’m happy to go with you and help support you. Rod’s a bit prickly at first, but he’s working on it. My advice is to be firm, and instead of letting him intimidate you, stand your ground. Throw the sassy back.”

Easy for Quinn to say. She had sassy to spare. Emma usually shut down in those situations and got walked over—again, it was the confrontation thing. Maybe it was because she’d heard too much yelling at home, or maybe it was just her personality, but either way, the thought of that meeting, of the townspeople and their never-ending questions…

All of it overwhelmed her and she took a generous sip of her beer. This was why ducking her head and focusing on her life with Zoey and getting her career up and running was easier, and also why she’d disengaged from town events and distanced herself from most of the people in the town in general. But it’d left her a bit lonely. Honestly, when your grandmother had a better social life than you, it forced you to examine your life choices.

“Dude,” Quinn said, her eyes on Emma, “once Sadie and Heath leave to go tour, I’m going to need more than one girls’ night a week, or I might seriously go crazy.”

“It’ll just be for a month or so,” Sadie said. She was Dixie Rush’s lead singer, and Heath played the guitar. They’d recorded an album, and it was coming out soon, so they were going on a short tour, playing at venues across the country to promote the release.

Emma rolled her bottle between her fingers. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I can manage more than one girls’ night a week. Madison can’t watch Zoey on a school night. Maybe now that Cam’s back, he can watch her once in a while. But I’m afraid I’ll still be parked at home most nights.”

Quinn took the last swig of her beer and then set down the empty bottle. “I’ll just come over, then.”

“You’re always welcome, but I’m not sure Zoey and I will be very exciting.”

“Oh, knock that off. I’m looking for friends, not excitement. I have Heath for that,” she added with a grin, waggling her eyebrows and making them all laugh.

Sadie had Royce, her strong, silent cowboy. But Emma had a two-year-old princess, and that was enough. For now.

“Oh, by the way,” Sadie said. “Quinn says that architect guy you work with likes you.”

“Pete? No.” Emma shook her head.

“Uh, yeah.” Quinn swung her arms around as she talked, and the movements always grew larger when she wanted to make a point. “He checks you out when you walk, and he’s constantly making excuses to talk to you. Come on, you know what you’re doing and the job’s going so smoothly. There’s no reason for him to check in
that
much.”

Pete was on the scrawny side, and if Emma was serious, he was
dead serious
. But in an admirable, driven way. He was smart and levelheaded, and he listened to her suggestions and gave fair input, always weighing the pros and cons before they made a decision together. She’d never thought about him as more than a business colleague she needed to impress, and thinking about the possibility of more now made a strange, unsettled feeling come over her.

Or maybe the weird sensation was because she’d already finished her beer.
Man, I’m such a lightweight.

“He also says he loves kids,” Quinn said. Emma looked at her, and she shrugged, unabashed. “I did some checking. Sadie and I promised to find you a guy, remember?”

Obviously Cam didn’t even register as an option, and Quinn knew him better than Emma did. Which was fine, because she’d decided crossing lines with him was a bad idea, and this was a good wake-up-and-stop-dreaming-about-Cam-Brantley call.

But still.

“I don’t know if I’m even in a dating type place right now,” Emma said. “I feel like I should just focus on integrating Cam into Zoey’s life and finishing up the Mountain Ridge job.”

Quinn folded her forearms across the top of the table. “I’d love to see Cam with Zoey. I can hardly imagine it. Does he just grunt at her? He’s so stoic.”

Stoic? He might not be Mr. Chatty or wear his emotions on his sleeve, but Emma thought about their conversations, his grin, and the way they’d joked around last night, and thought that “stoic” didn’t fit. Reserved and a tad intimidating, yes. Even bossy and stubborn—she still couldn’t believe he’d taken her car.

The image of him with Zoey popped into her mind, how he’d given her a ballerina Barbie, and the way he squatted to her level to talk to her. The way she’d chatter and he’d nod, even though he clearly couldn’t understand half of what she said.

“He’s really good with her, actually,” Emma said, and both women smiled. “I honestly thought he’d tell me that he didn’t want anything to do with her, but I’m pleasantly surprised by how much interest he’s taken. He even watched her last night so I could go pick up my grandma from the hospital.”

Emma filled Quinn and Sadie in on the excitement at last night’s bingo game and how Cam had offered to take Zoey. She even spilled the story about the mud puddle incident, and how worried he’d been that she’d be mad.

“I would’ve paid money to see him chasing her through the puddle,” Quinn said.

“Speaking of…” Sadie gestured toward the door. In Cam came, sucking all the oxygen in the room toward him. Or maybe just Emma’s oxygen. He definitely stood out, the height and rugged features drawing her attention the way they had back in high school and obviously still did.

Emma lifted her hand to wave, but then Angie Simmons stepped in front of him. She squealed, “Oh my gosh, it’s really you,” and hugged him, throwing her entire body into it. Emma quickly turned around and sank lower in the booth, now hoping Cam didn’t notice her. She’d had to watch him and Angie make out in the high school hallway far too often. They were one of those off and on couples who broke up and made up a dozen times a day.

“Is Angie single again?” she asked, despite the questions it’d most likely bring.

“I heard she and what’s-his-face broke up,” Quinn said.

Emma rubbed her thumb across the condensation that’d formed on her beer bottle. “She and Cam used to date in high school, you know.” Quinn and Sadie were in the class below Emma, and since Cam was in the grade above her, they probably didn’t remember the epic hallway make-out sessions.

The residual jealousy she’d felt in high school rose up. Back then it was more a longing of having a guy look at her like that. Kiss her like that.

Even though she’d figured out how to tame her frizzy hair with a combination of serum and giving in to the wave instead of trying to brush it out, she’d always be the awkward girl with her hand forever raised, all the educational answers but none of the real-life ones.

Guys commented on her brains, not her looks.

Which was fine. Maybe she should consider Pete.

Emma peeked over the booth at Cam and Angie, who were still talking, most likely reminiscing about the good old days. Angie would mention she was single, and Cam would take one look at that sexy midriff top—the one Emma would never wear anyway, but definitely couldn’t pull off after having a baby—and that’d be that.

“Emma?”

She jerked her attention back to Quinn and Sadie.

“You should go ask him to dance,” Quinn said, and Sadie nodded her approval. “At least say hi.”

Emma shook her head. “It’s a girls’ night. You guys left your men at home. I have a babysitter. I just want simple fun.”

“Dancing
is
fun,” Quinn said as the next song started up, a faster one that Emma would never attempt to dance to, even if she were the kind of girl who strolled up to a guy and asked him to join her on the floor. “If not with Cam, then with us.”

Before she could list all the reasons that was a bad idea, Quinn jumped to her feet, clamped on to Emma’s hand, and started toward the floor. For someone who wore ridiculously high heels, she certainly moved fast. Sadie followed after them, and as soon as they got to the floor, Quinn spun Emma.

Despite herself, she laughed, holding on tight to Quinn’s hand and focusing on not falling. Sadie swayed her hips as she sang along with the song, her voice strong and powerful, making it clear why she had a recording contract.

Singing. Dancing. She admired how Quinn and Sadie went all out, never caring what anyone else thought. And so, instead of being the lame, boring one, she closed her eyes and let the beat take her away, laughing, dancing, and singing along with her friends.

…

Cam hadn’t seen Emma when he’d first come in, but he sure as hell saw her now. Angie hadn’t stopped talking since she’d greeted him, but now he was only catching blips of her chatter.

Emma’s laugh carried over to him, that same laugh that stirred up memories and made him feel a type of longing that he couldn’t quite name. All week he’d had trouble not staring, and the tight jeans and the way she swayed her hips to the music wasn’t making it any easier. She had on a simple tank top and her hair was down, hanging in loose waves down her back.