The Bad Boy's Baby (Hope Springs) (10 page)

She ran her fingers over the top of his hand, and it managed to calm the storm inside that he hadn’t been able to shake away—he knew it’d never be gone, and that despite what he’d just said, a part of him would always wonder what would’ve happened if he’d gone by the book that day, even if he’d saved countless lives by occasionally pushing hard.

He focused on Emma, on her soft touch and the way she was looking at him, and something tugged in his gut. He thought about her earlier words, about how she apparently thought she’d seen something more in him, even back in high school.

Maybe this pull he felt whenever he was with her wasn’t totally one-sided. Hope, fragile and dangerous, rose up, and he wasn’t sure whether to embrace it or tell it to take a hike.

“If I’m being honest,” he said, returning to Emma’s original question, “if you’d sent me an email that said you were pregnant with my baby, it’d be easier to deny. Meeting Zoey and seeing so much of myself in her was proof enough. But without that…?”

He hated to face the harsh truth about himself, but she’d asked for honesty, and he resolved to give it to her. If they were doing this—whatever this was—she deserved to know the type of guy he really was. “I probably would’ve told you I was too busy to deal with it. Eventually I would’ve come back for a short visit and a paternity test during my leave—most likely I would’ve been an asshole about it, too. Back then, I wasn’t in a very good place. And the truth is, even after I found out she was mine, I wouldn’t have been there for either of you much. My job in the army…I don’t think I could’ve done what I needed to do while thinking about having a daughter out there. So I don’t want you to keep punishing yourself for not telling me.”

“Are you saying…you forgive me?” Her voice cracked as her eyes locked onto his.

This time he didn’t stifle the urge to touch her—he reached out and cupped her cheek. “I forgive you. I can’t even count on two hands the mistakes I’ve made. I’m just sorry you had to go through so much alone. But for the record, you’ve done an amazing job.”

She threw her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly and whispering, “Thank you.”

Before he could get a good grip in return, she sat back, looking embarrassed again. In school, he would’ve pegged her as shy; that night at the bar, she’d been anything but. He wanted to know what had flipped the switch, and he hoped that they’d get to know each other well enough that she’d be comfortable with him again, regardless of everything that’d happened. Their lives were connected forever now, after all, whether they crossed into more or not.

But you’re not going to cross that line, remember…
He couldn’t help but wonder for one quick second if she’d be open to it, though.

She hadn’t turned down Pete, which meant she might already have her eye on someone else to fill that position.

Jealousy rose, fast and furious, and he curled his hand around his knee and squeezed, working very hard to redirect his thoughts so he didn’t lose his mind and demand Emma stay away from the guy, as well as any others who dared to ask her out.

He cleared his throat. “Okay, show me more pictures. I want to know everything about the time I missed.”

Emma explained each picture and told little anecdotes about Zoey as she flipped through the pages. He grinned at the expressive faces his daughter made, seeing himself and Emma in so many of them—the scowling ones definitely looked more like him. When he pointed that out to Emma, she laughed.

“It is kind of true,” she said through her laughter, then she whipped her hand up over her mouth to cover it.

“Sure, mock me now, but when she’s a little brainiac in school, I’ll be pointing out that it’s all your fault.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Proudly pointing it out.”

“Let’s just hope some of your coolness gets in there somewhere. Because if any little twerps make fun of her, they’re going to have to deal with me.”

“Me, too,” he added, frowning and clenching his fist. No one better ever mess with his princess.

With the book open to a picture of Zoey scowling at the camera, Emma lifted it, holding it next to his face and nodding. “That’s it, all right.”

“Very funny,” he said, poking her in the side. A swirl of warmth went through him at her squeal. It made him want to do it again, but she caught his hand, holding it back and giving him a stern look that only made him want to kiss her.

By the time they got to the end of the book, he’d heard so many cute stories about his daughter, and he couldn’t help admiring Emma for keeping it all together while taking care of Zoey and working to bring in money for her family.

They’d already covered a lot of emotional ground, too, so he decided the talk about his dad could wait. When it came down to it, he knew he’d just needed an excuse to stop by, but now he felt like he didn’t need an excuse. He simply wanted to be here with her, and his bad day had faded away the second he’d walked in the door.

She offered him some ice cream, and he said, “Yes, please,” then pulled the book into his lap, looking at his favorite pictures again. He paused at one of Zoey and Emma, two pretty girls smiling at the camera.

Again, he felt the pressure to make the lodge work so he could take care of his daughter.
And Emma, too
, he thought before another voice told him he needed to be careful or he was going to get carried away.

When things turned difficult in relationships, women walked away from him. Starting with his mom and ending with his last girlfriend, who had gotten sick of his job, how closed off he was, and all the times he couldn’t be there for her. She’d told him he couldn’t give her what she wanted, and since she’d been talking marriage and a house in the city, he’d agreed. He supposed she was better than the girlfriend before, though, who’d cheated on him while he’d been deployed.

He got that he wasn’t the greener pasture guy and never would be. His goal when he’d come back to Hope Springs was a literal green pasture—or mountainside—to get lost in. Now that he had a daughter, his goals had shifted. Everything in his life had shifted, actually, and he needed to reassess, before hope and the magnetic pull between them got the best of him and he jumped in without thinking.

But as soon as Emma came back into the room, handed him a bowl of ice cream, and took a seat next to him, her vanilla scent filling the air, he thought it might be too late to avoid getting carried away.

Chapter Thirteen

Cam watched Emma grab her lunch box and take a seat at the picnic table. Pete sat right next to her, way too close, and with a big love-struck grin on his face. Despite telling himself that the guy might be better for Emma than he was, he couldn’t take it anymore.

Not after having such a great time with her the past few days, and not when the thought of her with another guy sent a toxic burning through his gut. Not to mention the overwhelming urge to knock the guy out.

I swear, if he lays a hand on her…

Keep your cool. Remember that saying “I just snapped” doesn’t take away the damage.
That was something he’d learned from life with Dad, and so he clenched his fists, took a few deep breaths, and slowly exhaled the anger.

Now back in control of his temper, he walked over and held his hand out to Emma. “Come eat with me.” He jerked his head toward the tree line. “Up the trail a bit.”

More than a few pairs of eyes were on them, and the disgruntled look on Pete’s face practically called him rude for interrupting, but he didn’t care. Emma let him pull her to her feet, and then he grabbed her lunch box, keeping her other hand in his as he started toward the greening pines. A few still had brown splotches left over from winter, but each day more color spread, and within a few weeks it’d be green as far as the eye could see.

Once he and Emma reached the top of a small hill, he guided her off to the side, where the perfect picnic rock sat, flat on top and warm from the sun. They pulled out their lunches, and he noticed Emma’s
Frozen
thermos.

“Like mother, like daughter.”

She shot him a smile. “I couldn’t find mine today, so I stole Zoey’s and gave her a juice box, figuring the sugar would keep her from noticing.”

Cam bit into his ham and cheese sandwich and looked out over the valley. “I used to practically live in these hills. Every chance I could escape, I’d come out here and hike or fish or hunt. Ever since I got back, I have these moments where I look out my window and think, ‘I didn’t dream it. The mountains are now my backyard.’”

“It is a beautiful backyard. I’m happy for you. And Heath.”

“We dreamed up this idea when we were kids. Then I enlisted, and honestly, I thought that’d be my life. Even when Heath and I were exchanging emails about buying the property and everything we could do with it, it didn’t seem real.”

“It’s real, and you deserve it,” she whispered, putting her hand on his, and the dreamlike feeling washed over him. He often woke up expecting desert. Three other guys and makeshift bunk beds crammed in a ten-by-ten room. To get new orders and snap into motion to complete them.

The past few days he hadn’t felt antsy, and he’d managed to keep the bad memories away better than he’d ever done before.

Even in his wildest dreams, he’d never imagined a daughter or a woman like Emma, but he found that being around them helped cut out the noise, and he didn’t want to lose that.

“Don’t go out with him.” It burst from him, too bossy sounding, he knew, but how strongly he felt about her not dating Pete made it hard to be neutral. He cupped her cheek and worked to soften it. “Please. Give me a chance.”

“A chance like…?”

Did she really not see it? Could she not tell by his constant checking her out? Or how he’d intentionally danced, no threat of death or dismemberment required? The way he made excuses to work with her instead of the other guys, and how he’d stopped by her house last night just because? He peered down at her, those lips he’d been having a hard time keeping out of his thoughts calling to him.

Then he lowered his head and kissed her.

Without the fuel of drunken lust, this kiss was much different than their first. It started slow, a tentative brush of lips. But when she reached up and curled her hand around his arm, holding tight, he increased the pressure, parting her lips with his and deepening the kiss.

It was the sweetest kiss he’d ever taken part in by far, but it still made his blood fire hotter.

Then she pulled away, and he immediately missed her lips, her touch. He held his breath, waiting for her to tell him he wasn’t the type of guy she wanted. He knew he fell short on the stability scale, and he was too harsh for her, no doubt, but he wanted her anyway. At least a chance at having her, regardless of telling himself that the last thing he should do was start a relationship. A couple weeks ago he’d been so sure that he didn’t want one, but now…well, everything else had been thrown out the window. What was one more thing?

“This is all happening really fast,” Emma said. “And I’m worried that rushing into something is a bad idea. Think about Zoey. I don’t want to confuse her—she’s getting used to you being her daddy, but you and me together… Then the entire town will probably get involved, adding more pressure. You remember how nosy they all are, right? And if it doesn’t work, it’ll be that much messier.”

It was perfectly logical, which was something he didn’t want to be right now. He wanted to kiss her again. To forget the other crap in his life and focus on the bright spots, one of which was definitely Emma and Zoey. “Do you always worry about hypothetical future problems before they even have a chance to happen?”

“Yes.”

He nodded, letting that sink in for a second and trying to figure out how to respond. Do the smart thing? Or forget about rules—which was definitely the more tempting of the options. “I’ve had almost every day of my life planned out for me since I was eighteen, so to be honest, I don’t want plans. But what I do want is to feel like I’m starting to live again.”

Cam reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, dragging his thumb across the top of her cheek as he did so. She closed her eyes, like she was soaking in the moment, then opened them and locked them onto his.

“I like you, Emma,” he whispered. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“I…I like you, too.”

“So we’ll go slow. Take it a day at a time. We don’t even have to let anyone else know we’re trying it. If anything, we owe it to Zoey to see if we can work it out.”

She tipped her head one way and then the other, like she was mentally weighing her options. “I suppose that’s a good point. And I do have fun with you—honestly, I can’t stop thinking about you, either.”

A smile tugged at his lips, and he let it break free. Then he leaned down and kissed her again. This time, she didn’t hesitate. She responded quickly, bracing her hand against his chest as she leaned into the kiss, both actions making his heart thump faster and harder under her palm.

His life was all dreams right now, and he hoped he never woke up.

Chapter Fourteen

Emma pulled her hair up, frowned at her reflection, and shook it out. Then she put on makeup, lining her eyes in brown, and after she’d swiped on mascara, she pulled half her hair up, teasing it at the crown before securing the hairdo with a couple of bobby pins.

Excitement had zipped through her in bursts every time she thought about a night out with just her and Cam, but her nerves had also punished her all day long, to the point she’d had trouble concentrating on even the smallest task. She’d boiled dry a pot of macaroni and had to start Zoey’s dinner over, and a smoky smell still hung in the air, even after opening every window and running the fan.

The other reason for her absentmindedness and nerves was because her brain had decided to focus on one of her biggest fears:
What if we get out alone and he realizes that I’m not just boring because we’ve had to spend most of our time with a toddler in tow, but because I’m just boring?

Scolding herself for letting the downer thought poke its way in, despite her resolve to shut it out, she slicked on shimmery lip gloss, pressed her lips together, and let out an exhale. This was her, take it or leave it. In fact, when she had the time to do hair and makeup and wear clothes that weren’t for work and covered with whatever food Zoey had eaten, she actually liked what she saw in the mirror.

Zoey paused in the doorway and peered up at her. “Mommy looks pretty,” she said, and Emma bent down and rewarded her with a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you. Mommy needed to hear that.”

The doorbell rang, and butterflies swarmed her gut. She tossed her lip gloss into the drawer, shut it with her hip, and went to answer the door. She’d asked Cam if she should see if Madison could babysit again, even though she’d done it last night for girls’ night, but Cam said he’d already taken care of it.

Before Emma could greet Cam, Heath, and Quinn, Zoey shot past her and flung herself at Cam. “Daddy!”

He tossed her into the air, her ever-present tutu flaring out—high enough that Emma flinched, sure her daughter would hit the ceiling. But of course she didn’t, and Zoey released a happy squeal. Cam caught her and kissed her cheek, right over the spot where some of Emma’s shimmery kiss mark remained.

Emma quickly showed Quinn and Heath around, went over everything she thought they’d need to know and then some, and then hugged Zoey good-bye.

Cam hugged her next, and she protested at his leaving, tugging on his hand and whining for him to play dolls with her. He bribed her like a champ, with the promise of
Frozen
and Lucky Charms—and once she was distracted by Quinn and the big red box with the leprechaun on the front—they made their getaway.

As soon as they stepped onto the porch, Emma sucked in what felt like her first full breath of the night. Cam put his hand on the small of her back. “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” she said. Then she let herself check him out, the jeans, button-down shirt, and scruff. “You look nice, too. You’re taking advantage of the no-shaving thing, I see.”

He grinned and shook his hair, which was also getting longer. “No regulation haircuts or rules about shaving
is
pretty sweet. Besides, I’ve got to pull off the mountain man look for when people show up for the lodge. Who’s going to trust some clean-shaven guy who looks like he works at a desk?”

“Not me,” she said with a laugh, and she wanted to reach up and run her hand down his whiskered cheek, but she wasn’t quite bold enough.

So far they’d stuck with flirting and a couple of sweet kisses when they could get away with it at work, staying in relatively conservative territory. Vastly different from their first night together, when they’d fast-forwarded past the little gestures and getting-to-know-each-other chats and slid right into home plate. Which was perfect, because she certainly wasn’t ready for that step anyway—even though her body often forgot the memo, like now, when heat was radiating out from Cam’s touch and sending her pulse racing.

He helped her into the truck then climbed in behind the steering wheel. “I’ve got a plan, but the place I want to take you is in the next town over. Hope you don’t mind a bit of a drive.”

Cam frowned at the distance between them, grabbed her hand, and tugged her until she was right next to him on the bench seat. Then he curled his fingers around her knee.

A drive sitting next to him, inhaling his musky cologne and feeling her skin hum under his touch? She didn’t mind if the drive took all night.

…

Cam pulled up to the large park, glancing toward the area where people were taking blankets and chairs, and noting they’d arrived with thirty minutes to spare until the first band went onstage. “Is this lame? I searched for something going on this weekend, but there weren’t a whole lot of options, and Heath suggested this place. But we can go somewhere else if you think it’s lame.”

“Are you kidding me?” Emma scooted closer to the windshield, twisting her neck so that she was looking over at the carnival area, where the Ferris wheel rose up over the rest of the spinning rides. “I
love
carnivals! I’m usually overly cautious, but carnival rides are, like, contained risk. I can let my thrill-seeking side loose in a contained, safe environment.”

“I don’t know that I’d call carnival rides safe. If you think about how many times they’ve been unassembled and reassembled, and the little training that goes into—”

She smacked his arm. “Don’t ruin this for me! It’s my only thrill-seeking activity, and I don’t want to think about consequences or safety.”

Another thrill-seeking activity popped into his head, desire going through him now that the heat of her thigh was seeping into his and that tempting mouth of hers was so close. He reached up and brushed his thumb across her lower lip, the desire surging at her sharp inhale.

“Okay. I won’t ruin this.” He decided not to tell her that he’d planned on listening to a couple of bands while they sat in the grass and had had no idea there’d be a carnival set up right next to it. Honestly, the
last
thing he wanted to do was go toward the flashing lights and inevitable screams from the riders, but she was so happy that he couldn’t bring himself to say he’d only brought her here to listen to music in the park.

He peered into her big brown eyes, the makeup she’d put on emphasizing one of his favorite features of hers even more, and he couldn’t help leaning down and giving her a quick kiss—one of many he planned on giving her tonight. Then he grabbed her hand and scooted out of the truck, pulling her with him.

As they neared the ticket booth, he laced his fingers with hers. Warmth flooded his chest when she squeezed his hand and flashed him a smile.

The scent of fried food grew stronger, and he noticed the food trailer nearby, which was the only part of the carnival he could totally get down with. He bought a book of tickets, slid them in his front pocket, and glanced down at Emma. “Did you want to grab some food first?”

“What are you, a carnival rookie? Rides, then food.” Tightening her grip on his hand, she pulled him toward the zipper. Even though he disliked confined spaces, he’d ridden plenty of rides before, and even used to brag that none of them scared him. But now he was thinking too much about the shoddy workmanship, wondering how long they’d taken to put together the contraption, and if they’d tightened every bolt, and suddenly he wished for the invincible feeling from his youth.

This might be the stupidest idea I’ve ever had.

But as they stood in line, Emma bounced on the balls of her feet, excitement radiating off her. When it came their turn to load, she practically sprinted onto the ride. Then they were both belted in, together in a metal death trap, and she gave a squeal and kissed his cheek.

And he decided he’d ride every stupid ride if it made her this happy.

As soon as the ride jolted into motion, though, he immediately regretted everything. Emma obviously didn’t feel the same, considering the way she laughed and rocked the cage they were in, making it spin even more. When the metal bar shifted—only a few inches, but still—he threw out his arm and held Emma in place.

“Oh my gosh, you’re totally soccer momming me,” she said with a laugh.

The ride threw them forward, and the shift was enough to push her breasts against his arm. He tried not to think about that, but it was kind of hard not to notice the way her curves pressed into him as they slid and spun, their bodies bumping together. He refused to let her go, despite her mocking him, too. Just in case the bar didn’t work well enough.

The cage turned upside down, all the blood rushing to his head, and he couldn’t believe that at one point in his life he’d thought this was fun. His heart pounded too hard, the metal bar dug into his hip with each flip—and because it was set for him, Emma was sliding around way more than he liked. And he hated to admit this, but his back was probably going to hurt tomorrow morning from all the jerking around.

Finally the ride slowed to a stop, and he tapped his fingers on the metal bar, waiting to escape. Over the past few years, he’d been crammed into a lot of confined spaces, but he never got used to it. The itchy, lung-tightening sensation hit him, and he wanted to bolt. How stupid that he couldn’t do something so normal without reliving too many close missions.

“You okay?” Emma asked.

He tapped his fingers faster. “Of course.”

She brushed her hand across the top of his, and the tightness in his chest eased. Instead of clinging to the bar, he turned his palm and clung to her. The door swung open with another screech of metal—the entire thing should be bathed in WD-40—and sweet, open air greeted them.

He stepped outside then offered Emma a hand. When the cage rocked and she stumbled forward, her body bumped into his. He wrapped his arms around her, glad for the excuse to hold onto her for a moment—her nearness was much more enjoyable with nothing but sky surrounding them, too.

She tipped up her head and dragged her thumb over his biceps, making his pulse race after her touch. “We don’t have to go on any more.”

“Oh, we’re riding every single ride.” Yes, he’d probably experience a bit of claustrophobia, but he could get through it, especially with Emma by his side.

He noticed she picked out more open, less jarring rides after that, though, and he didn’t think it was for her benefit. After several rides, the ground seemed unsteady under his feet, and they wandered into the area with more of the booths.

Emma glanced at the rows of stuffed animals hanging behind the shooting game. “You know, it’s funny, because so many nights I wish for a small break from mommy duty, then when I get away, I spend so much time thinking about Zoey and missing her. She’d love this place.”

“I guess we’d better take her back a stuffed animal, then.”

“Yes, these ones are extra awesome, because they’ve usually got an eye going the wrong way. They’re like the stuffed animals who’ve lived near the nuclear power plant for too long and aren’t quite right.”

Cam laughed. He looked at the rows of stuffed animals, noticing how true that was. He paid the guy and picked up the BB gun. Then he took aim and pulled the trigger. He frowned when it didn’t hit the center, lined up the shot, and hit the same spot again. He repeated, adjusting as he pulled the trigger again and again, but it wasn’t until the last one that he neared the bull’s-eye.

“Close,” the guy working the booth said. “You hit enough for one of these.” He pointed to the tiny mutant fish. At least there was a pink one.

As they walked away, Cam muttered, “That game was totally rigged. I’ve had training. I earned top marks. I can hit a—” He stopped. That was a little too much information, and not something he wanted Emma to ever think about him doing. “I’m an expert marksman,” he quickly said to cover, and now he wanted to move on.

Emma tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. “Don’t worry, after you protected me in the big bad cage of the zipper, I have no worries about your tactical skills. Not to mention the Patsy Higgins thing. And Zoey will love her fish—I don’t have space for one of those obnoxiously big teddy bears that will split apart and shed fluff everywhere, anyway.”

He wrapped his arm around her, loving how she always saw the bright side of things.

“I hear music,” she said, turning toward the park where he’d originally planned on taking her.

“Confession time?”

She whipped her head toward him, worry etched in her features.

“It’s much less of a confession than you’re thinking. I was just going to tell you that I meant to bring you here for the music. Not the rides.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were so excited about the carnival.” He tipped his head toward the park. “But I do have a blanket in my truck. Want to grab some food and then we can go listen for a while?”

She nodded and said she’d get the food while he retrieved the blanket. They met up at the entrance of the park a few minutes later. Once they found an open spot, he spread out the blanket and she carefully balanced the food, nearly losing her grip as she lowered herself to the ground.

After eating her hot dog, Emma dug into the cotton candy, her lips turning blue from the spun sugar. “Thanks for tonight,” she said. “It’s been a long, long time since I went on a date.”

“Me, too.” Even back in high school, he didn’t really do official dates.

“Yeah, that’s just because you were away serving the country. Mine was more because no one was asking.”

“If I recall, you had another offer just this week.” He twisted the bottom of her shirt in his hand and tugged her closer, dropping a quick kiss on her blue lips. “Thanks for not taking him up on it, by the way. It’d be bad for business if I had to take out the scrawny architect.”

“As if it was even a competition…” She shook her head and muttered, “Mr. Caveman.” She pinched off a piece of cotton candy and extended it to him.

Cam leaned over and ate it out of her fingers, adding a grunt that made her laugh.

Once the food was gone, he propped himself up on his palm and pulled her back against his chest. The bands were pretty good, although maybe he was just seeing everything through Emma-tinted lenses now. When she shivered, he pulled her closer and ran his hands up and down her arms.