The Playboy's Baby: A BWWM Pregnancy Romance (10 page)

Cheryl rolled her eyes. “I fell asleep before I could change,” she explained. “So I’m not really ready for a walk.”

“That’s okay,” Rafe said. He took Oswald over to the couch and sat down. “We’ll wait.”

They walked down to the Waterfront Park. The sun was just rising.

“Where’s your wife?” Cheryl asked, breathing into her hands to keep her nose warm.

Rafe shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You two have an interesting relationship.”

“I wouldn’t call it a relationship.”

Cheryl chuckled. “You didn’t just come out here to walk with me, did you?”

Rafe shrugged. “I—" He looked down at his feet. “I can’t stop thinking about you. And the baby.”

“We agreed that I would raise this baby on my own. It’s the best for both of us.”

“I don’t want you to cut me out of her life.”

“Why do you keep saying I’m having a girl?”

“I just have this feeling.”

Cheryl looked down at Oswald, who trotted in between them. He looked up at her and seemed to smile.
He must have had a feeling about you too
, she thought to herself.

“I want to do the right thing. Marry me.”

Cheryl stopped in her tracks. Oswald stopped with her. It was Rafe who had to turn around to face them both.

“What?” she sputtered.

“Marry me.”

“You’re already married, dumbass.”

Rafe laughed. “Yeah, well. I’ll get divorced. Then we can get married. Come on.”

“No, no, no. Your father hates me as it is. You’re up for senior partner. You just got a dog—"

Rafe raised an eyebrow and Oswald looked up at her as if to say, “What do I have to do with anything?”

“--It’s just not a good idea for us to. No. No. No. No.” She shook her head and waved her hands. “No.” After a moment, she finally looked into Rafe’s eyes. He was hurt. At least, he looked hurt. “I don’t want to marry you because you want to do the right thing,” she finally explained. “When you get married, it should be because you love the person. Of all people, you should know that.”

Rafe nodded and released a small smile. “Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “Come on,” he said. “Once around the block, then I’ll take you home.”

The Waterfront Park was quiet at this time in the morning: a couple of joggers, a couple of dog walkers, and an awkward couple with their adorable terrier puppy.

“The Angel Killer,” Cheryl said, her voice only coming out at just above a whisper. “You guys officially take the case?”

Rafe nodded. “Dad told me last night. Dad and I are supposed to see him on Monday. You know, visit him in prison and get his statement. Advise him of what he should and shouldn’t do.” His voice lacked the luster that he had when he first stopped by her apartment as well.

“Hey,” she said. She reached over and grabbed his sweater. “I’m not going to cut you out of our daughter’s life. You should be a part of her life. I just don’t want to make things more complicated than it has to be.”

“Thanks,” he replied. There was an awkward silence. “I’m getting her a baby blanket.”

Cheryl smiled. “Okay.”

“And a bear.”

“Don’t get her too many stuffed animals.”

“And one of those banana teethers.”

She looked over at him. “I lo...” Her voice disappeared from her throat.
I love you?
she thought. Rafe must have caught wind of it also.

“You…” he said, trying to coax the rest of the sentence out of her.

“I…lll…I’ll make sure to always talk about you with our baby girl,” she said, trying to play it cool.

Rafe cocked an eyebrow. He wasn’t fooled, but he played along anyway. “Good,” he said. He grinned, as if he knew some secret that she wasn’t sharing. Cheryl could feel her face flush. She wasn’t sure if she could survive the rest of this walk.

Chapter Four

She reenacted it in her dreams over and over again. She wasn’t sure if it was her subconscious telling her that she made a mistake or that she was going through withdrawals. After all, she hadn’t been with a man since she was with Rafe.

The boys had all gone for a drink but Rafe stayed behind because he had made plans with Stacey for dinner and dancing. He had been ignoring her needs because he spent most of his time at work, but that night he was going to make up for it. At least that was the plan. When he called her to confirm and tell her that he would soon be en route home, she told him she was busy. Made plans with her friends.

“I’m sorry, sweetums. I just forgot.”

It was just Rafe and Cheryl at the office that night. She had overheard the conversation with his wife because she was about to bring in a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers.

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“Well, it was for your wife. I figured that it’d be a nice addition to your romantic evening, but I guess…” her voice faded but then quickly found itself. “Here. It’s for you. From me. To apologize for my gender.”

He laughed. “Thanks.” He opened the box and tilted it in her direction. “Share it with me? I don’t really feel like being alone tonight and well, a box of chocolate shouldn’t be wasted on an ugly mug like myself. It should always be shared with a beautiful lady.”

Cheryl could feel her cheeks flush. “You just don’t want me to leave you the one filled with toothpaste.”

He let out a guffaw. “Those are the worst. But really, I’d like to share this with you.” T

They both plopped down on his couch and began to devour the box. She had never been that close to him before. She always found him attractive, but his wife created this impenetrable wall Cheryl didn’t dare try to cross. That night, though. Things were different. It was the first night that Cheryl saw what their relationship was really like.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Rafe said. “Dad always told me to keep that illusion for the public.”

“You don’t love each other?” she asked.

“I love her – I think. It’s just not reciprocated. I suppose after years of being together, she just found that I’m not her type or maybe I created love where there wasn’t any to begin with.” He poured himself a glass of whiskey from the bottle in his drawer. Then he poured a second glass for her.

“No, no, no,” she said. “I couldn’t. Drinking with my boss? That’s got to be in the handbook somewhere.”

“You got a handbook?” he said, handing her the glass. “Any girl that can handle a glass of Yamazaki 18 can write her own damn handbook.”

“Japanese, huh?” she said. “I didn’t know that they made a good whiskey.”

Rafe grinned. “I’ll teach you about whiskey.”

They spent hours chatting about life, love, whiskey and their aspirations. Rafe described his love for nature. Cheryl talked about her night classes and aspirations of owning her own small practice one day. It wasn’t until they realized it was three o’clock that they finally stopped.

“I should get home,” she said.

“You have a dog to take care of?” he asked, helping her up from the couch.

“No. Why do you say that?”

“A dog,” he said. “Is one of the easiest ways to get out of something or make an excuse for something.” He took her empty glass from her hand and walked it over to his desk. “I’ve gotta get home to walk the dog. My dog just dragged me over here to say hi.”

Cheryl laughed and turned to walk toward the door but found that she was still a bit tipsy.

“I’ll call you a cab,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“You handled your whiskey pretty well,” he said, dialing the phone. “You should be proud of yourself.”

She bit her lip. Rafe sat on the edge of his desk. One hand was resting on his thigh, the other was holding the phone up to his ear. His gaze suddenly went from the door to her eyes. It only happened once. The sexual tension in their working relationship finally burst through their inhibitions – though honestly, it was probably helped along by the whiskey. She wrapped her arms around him before realizing what she was actually doing.

Rafe leaned in and brushed his lips against her cheek first, before diving in and kissing her soft lips with his. She melted into his arms. It was warm, it was perfect, and it was wonderful. It had been a long time since Cheryl had been with someone, but she didn’t remember it being quite as passionate. She had sex before but in comparison to this – she didn’t think she was doing it right.

Cheryl unfastened his belt and let it fall to the ground, then helped him pull his shirt off, revealing a body that she had longed for but had never seen. He was muscular but not as incredibly defined. She took a moment to let it all seep in. She touched his stomach and reached down to unbutton his pants. She could see every defining muscle, every curve made by the various lamps and lights in the room, all of which casted shadows on his skin. Rafe was definitely someone that women would fawn over. She had seen plenty of men in her lifetime, but he was something special.

Rafe undressed her slowly, first slipping off her belt, and kissing her stomach as he laid her down on her desk. He moved the fabric from her, uncovering her body like he was carefully unwrapping a present. His hands searched her body, taking in every curve and goose-bump made by the cool air. He crawled over her and kissed her lips again. Cheryl wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her. He gently lowered himself down, pressing his muscular body onto hers.

She felt his excitement growing in between her thighs and, as she did, a sigh escaped her lips. How long had she been waiting for this moment? Too long. He kissed her neck and shoulder, his hot breath tickling every inch in between. His hands found her breasts. Her breath was getting heavy. She could feel her cheeks flush with embarrassment. The vulnerability of being naked in front of the open windows, and with the door ajar was both nerve-wracking and thrilling. And it only fueled her desire even more. Cheryl could feel his swelling inching closer to her and she gasped.

Normally, the walk of shame always made Cheryl feel dirty and guilty but there was no walk. No shame. They both dressed slowly, watching each other’s moves.

“I’m sorry,” he had said.

“What?” Her eyes scanned his face for any sign of emotion. Was he sorry that he had done that because… nothing would come of this?
Oh my god, he’s married,
she thought. The fact repeated itself over and over again. She knew this. They talked about his wife. They—

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I just— I mean, I’ve been attracted to you for a while now. I-” He laughed and took a deep breath. “I’m not usually this tongue tied. I’m sure that my career as a lawyer would be done for otherwise…”

“You didn’t take advantage of me,” she sputtered. “I made the first move. I shouldn't apologize.”

He shook his head. “No need. I wanted it, for sure.”

They agreed to not mention it again, or let it happen again. They pretended that it didn’t happen. Until she was late…

Chapter Five

Cheryl woke up with a jolt of pain that bolted through her like electricity. She doubled over in bed and curled up into a ball. It was as if she was in the bath and someone had thrown a toaster in the water with her. What was going on?

The pain was unbearable. It was as if she was reliving a scene from Alien. Her vision blurred and all she could hear was a distant ringing in her ears. As she turned to her side, she could see her phone on the nightstand, just out of her reach. She stretched her arm out as far as she could but only managed to knock it further away.

Cheryl wasn’t due for another few months. She was only just starting to show. There would be no reason for this unless there was some complication with – Her mind reeled at the possibilities of what was happening to her baby. Hoping that the pain would soon subside, she curled up into the fetus position and wrapped her arms around her abdomen.

The seconds dragged on to minutes, which ended up feeling like hours. As the pain dulled into a manageable ache, she unfurled and reached for her phone again. Her dainty fingers wrapped around the rectangular object and clung on to dear life.

“9. 1. 1.” she said as she hit the screen. The emergency call screen came up and a woman with a pleasant voice came on the line.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

*   *   *

Rafe watched the second hand tick and tock its way around the modern looking clock that hung from the wall. Cheryl was late. Cheryl was never late. Well, Cheryl was late once and that didn’t really bode well for them, despite the fact that they were both happy to have a baby on the way.

But this was a different type of late – or was it? He tried her cell phone again but – again – it went straight to voice mail. Something was wrong. She didn’t just oversleep or was ignoring his call in some sort of pouty, temper tantrum. He grabbed his coat and ran for the door. One of his fellow associates was standing in the waiting room holding a stack of file folders in his arms.

“Hey Rafe,” he said. “Your dad told me to swing by and drop these off for you. Where’s Cheryl? Home sick today?”

“Just leave them on my desk,” he replied. “I don’t know where she is. She didn’t call in sick or anything and she’s not answering her phone.”

“I hope it’s not complications with her baby. You want me to help you find her?”

“I’d really appreciate that, Sam.” Rafe took the stack from his arms and ran it into his office.

“Which hospital did your wife go to for your baby?” “Um, Harrison, I think.” Sam replied from the other room. “They’ve got a pretty awesome maternity ward and OB/GYNs that work there. My wife swears by them.”

Rafe ran out of his office and shut the door. “Do you know where she lives?”

Sam shrugged. “You’ve got her address, right?”

Rafe nodded and pulled out his cell phone to look at her contact information. “I’ll text it to you.”

“She’s pretty lucky to have a boss like you,” Sam said suddenly. “I bet you and I could take that lame ass baby daddy that ran off on her.”

“Is that what she said happened?”

Sam shrugged again. “She didn’t say anything but I could only imagine that’s what happened. He must be a loser, too. To leave that smart, intelligent secretary of yours in the lurch?! No wedding ring, no nothing. Just a cloud of dust.” He shook his head. Sam’s phone pinged.

“I can’t imagine having a baby and not being a part of her life,” Rafe said. His voice got soft. “Um, anyway, I sent you her home address.  Go ahead and check it out. I’ll head to Harrison. Text me if you find her at home.”

“Sounds good.” They both burst through the door and into the busy epicenter of the Raymond law firm. Rafe had a bad feeling about all of this. The elevator down to the lobby was quiet. They both stood in the lift with Rafe’s father, who eyed them both suspiciously.

“Early lunch?” he asked.

“Coffee run,” Rafe replied. He cleared his throat. “Cheryl called in sick today and I hate the sludge that we have in the break room.”

Patrick grinned. “Tell me about it. I have to tell George to stop buying whatever brand of Colombia blend he keeps getting. I would rather eat coffee flavored paste.”

Sam let out a loud belly laugh. “Where did that come from?” he muttered to himself. “That’s not my laugh.” There was an awkward silence.

Ding
.

The elevator doors opened and Patrick stepped out. He waved to them and continued on with his day, not worried about the petrified look on both of their faces; Rafe because he feared for Cheryl’s safety and Sam because Patrick always gave him the sensation that he was stuck in the principal’s office.

“You have to stop letting my dad worry you like that,” Rafe suddenly said when the elevator started moving again. “He’s only a guy.”

“Yeah well, he could fire me or he could inevitably fry me up and eat me if he really wanted to.”

“Well, he’s not a cannibal, so I think you’re good on that front. You really do need to calm down, though. If you keep freaking out, he won’t trust you under pressure in the courtroom.”

Sam scrunched his face and sighed. “I suppose you’re right but he’s just so scary. How did you grow up with him without wanting to piss your pants every time he opened his mouth?”

“You get used to that gruff exterior. Knowing his weak spots helps also. He’s deathly afraid of kittens and cats. Does that help?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Sam sputtered. His eyes twinkled. “The fuzzy things?”

“The fuzzy things with claws? Yes,” Rafe replied with a smile.

*   *   *

The hospital was busy, sick and injured everywhere. Rafe waved through the sick and injured, trying to find a nurse or receptionist that he could talk to.

“Pregnant ladies,” he sputtered at the receptionist. “Where are your pregnant ladies?”

“Excuse me?” she asked, looking over her glasses at him.

“I’m sorry. It’s just. I can’t find the mother of my child. I think that she might be here with complications with the baby.”

“Oh, that would be the third floor, dear,” she said, lowering her eyes back down to the keyboard. “Around this corner, you’ll find a set of elevators. Take one to the third floor and give your name to the receptionist at that desk. She’ll be able to let you know if your wife is there.”

Not wanting to have to describe the dynamic of their relationship – or his sex life for that matter – he quickly thanked her and rushed over to the elevators. There were four of them along a small corridor: two on either side. He hit the “up” button on both walls and looked around to see which doors would open first. The doors took forever, as if they were debating on whether or not they felt like functioning today.

Impatient, Rafe followed the arrow that pointed toward the stairs. The emergency door that led to the stairwell was heavy and felt unused. The stairwell itself smelled like cigarette smoke. Someone must have just gotten off of a break.

Rafe sprinted up the stairs, taking most of them two by two. After a couple of flights, his penchant for sitting in an easy chair and reading a book instead of spending an hour at the gym, started to get to him. As soon as he reached the third floor, he pushed the bar on the emergency door open and flew onto the floor in a flash.

The nurse behind the nurse’s station shot him the evil eye and tried to go back to work, ignoring his antics and frazzled appearance. However, she just couldn’t deny the gaze from his piercing blue eyes. At first, she was taken aback by his gaze; it was so intense. But after looking at his whole face, his expression softened and brought a smile to her face.

“Are you an expecting father?” she asked.

“Yes, yes. I need the room of a Miss Cheryl Goode.”

The young lady looked over at her computer screen and began to type. “It says here that Miss Goode didn’t list a father’s name. Are you her husband?”

“No, actually. We’re not married. But I am the father of her baby.”

She bit her lip for a split second. “The new privacy policies say that we’re only allowed to let immediate family or approved people in to see our patients. She hasn’t approved of anyone but I can send a nurse over to ask her if you can visit.”

Rafe nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

A phone call later, a squat nurse clad in white sauntered down the hall, on a mission. Meanwhile, the nurse behind the desk looked deeply into Rafe’s eyes. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Is that approved by your new privacy policies?”

She let out a laugh, but was obviously surprised at the volume of her voice. She tried to tone it down but had already embarrassed herself enough. “Oh, don’t be silly.”

“What’s the question?”

“Are you and Miss Goode in a relationship? Or are you just going to help raise the baby? Because it seems to me that if I were your significant other, I wouldn’t be passing up any chance to be Missus…” She paused, waiting for him to fill in his last name but he didn’t play along.

“It’s complicated,” he replied. His attention reverted back to the hallway as the plump nurse came back into view and waved him over. He thanked the nurse behind the receptionist desk without turning back to her. He quickly followed the plump one back through the corridor. Rooms upon rooms of bedridden expectant mothers made him nervous but he made sure to try and focus on Cheryl and what dangers she and the baby might be in.

“What are you doing here?” Cheryl blurted out as soon as he made it through the door.

“I’ll leave you two,” said the nurse. She smiled sweetly at both of them before closing the door behind her.

“I came to see how you were. You’re never late for work so I knew something must be wrong.” He walked up to the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. His hand grazed hers as he tried to adjust her blankets and pillows.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I swear. You really didn’t have to come. One of my nurses said that she was going to call the office and let them know that I can’t come in for the next couple of days.” She grabbed his hand so that he would stop trying to fluff one of her pillows. “You should go back to the office so that you don’t get in trouble. I know that your father wants you to—"

“Stop,” he said. He held his finger up to her mouth to shush her. “Are you okay?”

She nodded her head. “Apparently this is normal. I’m fine. I don’t even know why they want to keep me here for testing.”

“It’s because you overwork yourself,” said a voice from the door. They both turned and found themselves face to face with her young and attractive doctor. Rafe grabbed onto Cheryl’s hand. From behind him, Cheryl couldn’t help but smile at the protective gesture. Her doctor’s chiseled good looks were only heightened by his lab coat and clipboard – both symbols of intellect and success.

She smiled at him. “I’m fine, doc. I already said that.”

He shook his head, “I told you that you were exhausting yourself too much during your last appointment.”

“Appointment?” asked Rafe. “Are you her regular physician?”

“I’m Cheryl’s OB/GYN,” the young man replied.

Rafe’s grip on Cheryl’s hand got tighter. “Don’t be like that,” she whispered to him. “He’s been a great doctor so far.”

Rafe shrugged, not letting go of her hand. He turned his attention toward the doctor. “I’m Patrick Raymond. You can call me Rafe.” He offered his other hand.

“Hello. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Doctor Bellman. You can call me Richard.” His handshake was firm and strong, making Rafe squeeze Cheryl’s hand a little more. She let out a little giggle, catching the attention of both men.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, trying to stop laughing. “I guess I just never realized that you haven’t met each other yet.”

“I would love to come to your check-ups more often. All you have to do is tell me when they are and I’ll clear my schedule. I told you that I want to be in our baby’s life.” Rafe turned to the good doctor. “I can give you my number as an emergency contact as well.”

Bellman smiled at the gesture. “You’ll have to talk to each other about that. Although, since I have you here, I’d like to stress to you that I think your wife needs to take it easy.”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “I’ve been trying to tell her that for weeks now. She’s as stubborn as my mother.”

Cheryl made an audible gasp. “You. Take. That. Back,” she said playfully.

The doctor laughed. “I’ve said my piece. We’re going to be holding her here for testing for the next couple of nights. So far all signs point to a healthy baby and an exhausted mother.” He grinned at the both of them and turned to walk out the door.

Rafe sat back down on the bed. “So,” he said. “He seems nice.”

“Are you jealous?”

“Of that BOY?” He scoffed. “Oh please. I’ve got socks that are older than him.”

“That does say something, doesn’t it?” she said.

He shot her a dirty look. A coy grin crept across his face. “Some women find my devilish blue eyes and snappy wit attractive.”

Yes, I know,
Cheryl thought.
I’m one of them
. “Pssh,” she said. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

*   *   *