Deliciously Erotic Romance Collection (The Blue Room, Frosted Midnight, Haunted Halloween, Frosted Midnight) (7 page)

I woke the next morning with a splitting headache. People were whispering, but they could have been banging pots and pans the way it affected my head. I sat up and moaned. The talking stopped.

“She’s awake now. You might as well come in.”

I forced my eyes open and was shocked to see my mom standing next to Austin. He had on jeans and a white tee. The way I remembered him, rumpled and hotter than hell. For the briefest second I thought about running into his arms.

But last night—the way he’d treated me, the things he said—came flooding back, and I was angry. “What are you doing here? You made your intentions and feelings for me quite clear. Get out.”

He didn’t leave. Instead he knelt in front of me and took my hands in his. “I’m sorry, Willow. Truly, deeply sorry.”

I was still a little groggy, but he looked haggard. Disgustingly, deliciously worn out.

My Austin,
I thought. His hair hung in his eyes and I reached out to push it away, then thought better of it.

“You’re sorry. Great. That doesn’t change that fact that you think I’m a liar. That you walked away from me. Again.”

Austin squeezed my hands. “I know. I was an asshole and an idiot. The truth is, if you hadn’t sent those pictures, I probably wouldn’t be here.” He closed his eyes. “Emma looks just like me.”

That caught my attention. “How do you know her name? I never told your sorry ass her name.”

He gave me a strange look. “Wasn’t it you who emailed me pictures last night? The comments underneath were… thought provoking.”

I looked to my mom for help. She shrugged.

Almost right on cue, Emma began to cry. I tried to move around Austin but he held me fast.

“You two talk. I’ll get her up.” My mom dashed from the room as though grateful she had an excuse to leave me with that man.

“Look, I don’t remember sending you any photos, but nothing’s changed. I told you about your daughter, you called me a liar, and then walked away. I have nothing more to say to you. Now get the fuck out of my house.” Stupid fucking tears formed at the idea of watching him go, but it was bound to happen. “And this time, don’t ever come back,” I added, knowing I wouldn’t be able to take it again.

Austin stood, crossed his arms, and glared.

I jumped up and pushed his way-too-sexy chest. He didn’t move, so I slammed a fist into his arm. I totally hit like a girl, but I didn’t care. Angry tears fell from my face. “You don’t get to be mad, you son-of-a-bitch. You don’t get to see your daughter and you don’t get to see me. You get to leave. So go.” I pushed at him again. “Go. Get out. Damn you.”

Austin grabbed my hands and pulled me into a hug. “I can’t. I won’t ever leave you again. I know I’m an asshole, but I swear I’m here. I’m staying. I—”

“I have cancer, Austin. The doctor’s giving me a fifty-fifty shot at survival.” I was doing the ugly cry, the kind where you don’t care what you look like and, even if you did, you wouldn’t be able to stop it. “So shut up and leave.” I was out of control, hitting him without force, but still hitting.

Austin froze. I felt his body go stiff, and I momentarily felt bad. I wiped my nose on my sleeve and looked at him through my tears. “What kind?” he whispered.

“It’s on my spine,” I said and sat on the couch. I hadn’t wanted to tell him like that, but I was glad it was out. All the cards on the table.

“What’s your treatment plan?” he asked, so soft I almost didn’t hear him.

“I start chemo the middle of January. At the moment I’m on several different drugs to help slow it down. So far they haven’t helped much.”

Austin sat beside me and put his head in his hands. Now I really felt bad.

“You don’t have to stay. You don’t have to go through this.” I shrugged. “If, you know, you could come and visit Emma sometimes, I’d really appreciate that, though.”

“You mean after you’re dead?” he asked and looked up. He was angry again.

I nodded slowly. “If something were to happen, it’d be nice if she could see her dad.”

Austin turned and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Don’t you fucking talk like that.” He stood up and walked to the door. “I’m leaving, but I’m not leaving-leaving. I need to make a couple of phone calls, move around a few things, and cancel a couple of others. I will be back later today and I will meet my daughter. Got it?”

I nodded numbly, afraid if I said anything he might change his mind.

When the door closed my mom came out holding Emma. “That was intense.”

I sniffled and smiled. “Hi baby-girl.” I took Emma from my mom and snuggled her close. I’d given up a lot for her, but I’d do it again in a second.

“Do you believe him? You think he’s coming back?”

I shrugged. “His track record isn’t great.” I placed Emma in her bouncy chair, buckled her in, and busied myself making her bottle.

My mom poured two glasses of orange juice and flipped on the coffee pot. “Why don’t you let me feed her while you shower. You smell like you bathed in vodka.”

I sipped the orange juice and brought the bottle over. “That reminds me, he said I sent him pictures.” I flipped open the laptop and scanned my sent email. Sure enough, there was an email to Austin Merrick. “Holy shit.” I opened it. My mom leaned in and we looked at it together.

My mom covered her mouth. “No wonder he showed up here this morning frantic. But you’re right, Emma looks just like him.”

“Yeah, she does.” I smiled at my daughter, picked her up. “You sure you don’t mind feeding her?”

My mom took her. “Not at all. Go shower.” I walked out of the kitchen. “You just may get your Christmas miracle, Willow.”

I turned back. “I don’t need a miracle. I have much more than most.” I walked over and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks, mom.”

While I was in the shower my mom called my sisters. When I got out they were sitting in the kitchen. It smelled like freshly cooked bacon and coffee. They were eating and laughing.

“Hey, party animal. Next time you drink a bottle of vodka, invite me over. I want to have fun too,” Liv said, and I blushed.

“What, no makeup?” Heather asked.

I shook my head, working to ignore the sick worry filling my stomach. For some reason I worried that if I put on make up and did myself up for Austin, I’d jinx it and he wouldn’t show. So I’d put on an old pair of jeans and an oversized long-sleeved thermo shirt. My feet were bare, and my wet hair was in a bun. I’d brushed my teeth, shaved my legs, and put deodorant on. Any more would seem hopeful, or so I told myself.

Sara glanced over. “You’ve got a way with words, dear sister.” She indicated the opened laptop.

I chuckled and the rest laughed. “Where’s Emma?” I asked, turning in a circle.

“I put her down for a nap,” my mom said, taking a bite of bacon.

I stole a piece off her plate and shoved it in my mouth. “Mmmmm, delicious.” I went for another but she slapped my hand away.

“Get your own.” She pointed toward a plate on the counter.

I looked over and noticed there was buttered toast as well. I grabbed a plate, took another piece of bacon and two pieces of toast. Homemade strawberry jam sat on the table and I used a knife and covered the toast. “Heather, did you make this?” I asked, taking a bite.

She took a bite of her toast and smiled around the jam. “Yeah, Merry Christmas.”

“You’re eating my present?”

“It isn’t my fault you were in the shower when I brought it over.”

“Still, if it’s mi—”

Someone knocked on the door.  I knew who it was, who it had to be. “Austin,” I whispered, my stomach flying into my throat. I stood, but couldn’t go to the door. I was too nervous.

“I’m so excited we finally get to meet him,” Sara said, walking past me and opening the door.

It was Austin. He still wore his jeans, tee shirt, and boots. His hair was pushed back off his face and I could see the crinkles on the sides of his eyes. In his arms were a bundle of wrapped presents.

He’d come back. I covered my mouth, unable to stop the happy giggle that gurgled up my chest. 

Austin’s eyes found mine and he winked.

My mom took charge since I couldn’t move, my sisters were gawking, and Austin was still standing in the doorway. “Let the man in, ladies. For goodness sake.” She pushed aside my sisters and pulled him in my house by the arm.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, dear.” My mom helped him tuck the presents under the tree. “Take a seat.”

Austin sat on the center cushion.
Liv sat on the left. Heather and Sara sat on the right. My mom took the rocking chair.

“So why don’t you tell us about yourself?” my mom asked, crossing one leg over the other. My
sisters leaned in, gigantic grins plastered on their faces.

“Well, okay. I’m from Dallas. I met Willow a couple of summers ago. I fell hard for her and, apparently,” he clasped his hands together and glanced around the room, “I have a daughter.”

Liv patted him on the knee. “What do you do for a living?”

“My family is in the oil business. My great granddaddy started it many years ago. It’s been passed down from father to son and was…” He took a deep breath before continuing, “ultimately passed on to me.”

Holy shit. He belonged to those Merricks. As in Merrick Oil. They had the jingle
If you want your car to last, get your gas fast at Meerrrr-iiiiick.
They were the biggest oil company in the United States.

I never would’ve guessed by looking at him. His clothes were so casual, and the way he wore his hair—longer. At the moment he even had a little scruff on his face. He didn’t look like a man who was the sole heir to the Merrick fortune.

We were small town people, but we didn’t live under rocks. Everyone knew the Merrick Oil name. My sisters were suddenly excited, all chatting at once. Even my mom’s eyes had perked up. I still hadn’t moved.

This man and I had nothing in common. He was like royalty and I was a mere commoner.

Emma started to cry and I snapped to attention. Austin stood as well. “May I go in with you?”

A hint of a smile crossed my lips. Then I cleared my throat. “Sure.”

I glanced at my mom. She stood and walked to the door. “Come on, you three. Let’s give these two some privacy.”

Three grown women threw mini temper tantrums, but grudgingly left. When the door was closed, I looked at Austin.

“Ready to meet your daughter?”

“Yes, I am.”

Emma’s bedroom was small. I’d painted the walls butter yellow. The curtains and bedding were white. The crib was honey colored and there were large stickers of the Winnie-the-Pooh characters adorning the walls. Across from the crib was a dresser with a Winnie-the-Pooh lamp. Under the window stood the changing table and across from that was the closet.

I went to Emma. “Hi, baby-girl. Did you have a nice nap?” Emma stopped crying and smiled. Austin came up behind me and I heard him suck in his breath.

“She’s exquisite, Will.”

Tingly warmth surrounded my body and stopped at my heart. It hurt. I wasn’t sure what Austin’s plans were, but I wanted him to stay with me, with us.

“She is,” I agreed, nuzzling her neck. Emma giggled.

“May I hold her?”

I turned toward him. “What do you think, Emma? Should we let daddy hold you?”  She smiled wide.

Austin held out his arms and I placed her in them. She looked so tiny. Carefully he turned her so she faced him.

Seeing the way he held her, the way he looked at her as though she was the most precious gift he’d ever been given, made me hot for him. So damn hot. I wanted to rip his clothes off and do things.

He looked at me and I was sure he knew what I was thinking. “This turns you on, doesn’t it?”

I swallowed and stuffed my hands in my front pockets. “Whatever.”

He laughed and Emma giggled. “I think it does. I think she likes seeing you in my arms, baby.”

I walked out of the room to hide my intense blush. Everything seemed to be happening so fast. Last night he’d called me a liar. Now he’d accepted it and everything was fine. I wanted it to be, but I kept remembering how little I knew about him. How much time had passed without hearing a word from him? Those things mattered, didn’t they?

Austin followed me. I went to the kitchen. It was almost time for Emma to eat again. How would he handle feeding her, burping her, changing her diaper? Sure, babies were cute, but they were also a lot of work. They were sometimes messy, and smelly, and irritating. I adored everything about Emma, but then she’d come from me. Austin wasn’t around for the pregnancy or the birth. He had no connection with her other than what he was doing now. 

I glanced into the living room and saw Austin sitting on the couch holding Emma’s head in his hands out in front of him. Her body was a little longer than his forearms. He was bouncing her up and down gently while whispering. She tried to reach out and grab his face and he kissed her fingers.

Another wave of lust ran through me. God, was he being so sexy on purpose?

Emma let out a little whimper.

Austin looked up and smirked. “You’re getting her something to eat, right?”

I shook myself out of my lusty haze. “Yes.” My voice sounded hoarse and Austin winked. “It’s almost ready.” I put the lid on the bottle and brought it over.

“See, mommy’s handling it.
Yes, she is.”

“Want me to feed her?” I asked, picking up a burp cloth from the rocking chair.

“I’d like to, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure,” I said, unconvinced he really wanted to do it. “You’ll need to burp her after three ounces. Do you know how?”

Austin’s face grew serious. “When she’s ready, I’ll let you show me.”

He scooted back on the couch and turned Emma so her head rested on his right arm, then put the bottle in her mouth. Emma had recently started to reach out to the bottle and “help” me hold it. She did that with Austin and I watched his face melt. “Willow, she’s the most amazing child I’ve ever seen.” He kept his eyes on Emma and continued. “I’m so sorry I doubted you. My wife and I tried for years. When we finally decided to be tested our doctor told me it was highly unlikely I would ever be a father.”

“Did he say why?” I asked, sitting in the rocking chair, watching him—admiring him, really.

“He said I didn’t have enough boys in the tank.” Austin shrugged. “We talked about other methods, but not too long after that appointment she got sick and our focus changed.” His eyes met mine. “I—” his eyes watered. He closed them and shook his head slightly. “A fifty-fifty shot isn’t good enough. I won’t lose you, Willow. Understand that?” He opened his eyes and they pierced me, held me in place.

I leaned forward, clasping my hands together. How could I make him understand what he was saying? It was obvious he cared and that felt good, damn wonderful in fact, but… “Austin, we haven’t seen each other in fifteen months, and while it’s obvious you’ve taken to your daughter and she you…” I paused unable to go on.

From the moment I received his email every feeling I’d ever had for him returned in full. It was possible he’d kept his feelings for me.

“Willow? Will?”

I shook away my thoughts. “Yes, Austin.”

“She’s ready to be burped.”

“Oh, right.” I went and sat next to him, then took Emma. “Hey baby girl.” I sat her on my lap, one hand on her back, the other near her head in front. The burp cloth was in the hand near her face. “Babies used to be burped by patting them on the back while you draped them over your shoulder, but my pediatrician showed me this way. See, if you just lean her over a little and rub her back—” Emma interrupted with a burp. “See? It works really well.
Wanna try?”

“Sure.” Austin took her and copied the way I’d been holding Emma. When the burp cloth was in his hand I helped him put it in the right spot. “Like this?”

“Yep, you got it. Now just gently rub her back.”

Austin did and Emma burped twice more.

“Easy, right?”

“Not too bad,” Austin said.

I snickered. “Good, ‘cause when you’re done feeding her you get to change her diaper.”

He grimaced and then winked.

“I’m going to make something to eat. Any requests?”

“Whatever you’re having,” he said, his focus back on the baby.

I made two bologna and cheese sandwiches with a little mayo, a side of chips, and a bunch of red grapes. I set the plates on the table and went back into the living room. Austin was burping Emma again. I leaned against the wall and watched. When he glanced up I smiled. This—he, Emma, and I together—I could get used to it. But the fact remained he was oil royalty. He had responsibilities, meetings to attend, money to make, an image to keep up, and probably a lot of women with no kids and no cancer vying for his attention. This wouldn’t last long. He’d realize all of that soon enough and then he’d leave again.

Even if he said he didn’t want to, he’d have to. It wasn’t like he could give his life up for me.

“Lunch is ready,” I said, trying to fight down my sadness.

“Good, I’m starved,” he said, standing and handing me Emma’s empty bottle.

“Give her to me. I’ll change her and you can eat.”

Austin shook his head. “I’ll change her. You just show me what to do.”

“Okay,” I said, following him into Emma’s bedroom.

He laid her on the changing table and scooted over. “Show me.”

I went through the steps, talking as I did things until her diaper had been changed. “Think you can handle it?” I asked when I was finished.

“Of course,” he said waving his hand at me nonchalantly. “Although you might have to show me a couple more times.”

I laughed. “Fine,” I said with mock sarcasm.  “Let’s wash our hands and then we can eat.”

We took turns washing our hands in the bathroom and then walked into the kitchen. Austin held Emma.

I opened my arms. “Let me put her in her bouncy chair?”

Austin raised a brow. “What’s a bouncy chair?”

“Well,” I began, taking Emma and setting her in what looked like a banana chair adorned with elephants, monkeys, and birds on it. “This is a bouncy chair.” I buckled her in and Emma started to kick her legs. The chair bounced with her movements. “See, it bounces.”

I picked it up and set it on the table. “Never leave her on the table or a counter unattended. The whole chair can move and she can fall, okay?”

“Good to know.” He reached out and covered my hand with his large one.

I pushed his plate in front of him: a whole sandwich, plus half of mine. “Hope you like bologna.” I gave him a cheeky smile, ready for him to get totally grossed out. He’d probably never even seen bologna up close.

He surprised me and took a big bite of the sandwich. Chewed, swallowed and smiled. “Delicious. The best Christmas dinner I’ve ever had.”

“Really?” I couldn’t help but laugh. It felt good and I took a grape and popped it in my mouth.

Austin reached out and touched my shoulder. “I’ve noticed you seem thinner than the last time I saw you. Is that because of the medication?”

I swallowed and nodded. I wasn’t ready to discuss my cancer again. It was what it was.

“I made some calls. Since it’s Christmas it was difficult to get a hold of her, but I finally did, and Dr. Freedman agreed to look at your chart and meet with you on Monday.”