TIMBER: The Bad Boy's Baby (11 page)

“I think she’s hoping you’re gonna be the one changing those. I saw the way she looks at you. She thinks you’re some kind of god.”

“No way. She knows this is short-term. And yeah, she’s hot, fucking amazing in bed ... but I’m not getting married. I don’t even know her.”

“And she knows this?”

“Fuck, Dean. She doesn’t know anything She’s sheltered, and has no real-life experience. And besides all that, we’ve spent like two days together. I know nothing about her intentions, and she knows less about mine.”

“Well, then, this next month together, out here without any other person to lean on, you’ll figure one another out pretty damn fast.”

“Right. So I’ll give it a month. Harper and I will know after that what we wanna do next. Her staying here doesn’t equal us getting hitched. That ain’t happening, bro.”

“Hey, and before I go, we need to talk about money. We’re going to expand D&J Hauling. Do you want in on that?”

“Who the fuck is
we
?”

“My new right-hand man, Thomas, and I. We want to start doing custom homes. We’re hauling the best timber in the state, and we need to capitalize on it.”

“Yeah, I’m in. I need to do something besides chopping fucking wood all day.” We look around my acreage, and Dean lets out a low whistle.

“It’s a shit-ton of wood, Jax.” Dean says, impressed.

“I’ve been sending it to the mill once every few weeks. Can you send a truck out here to get it for resale?”

“Sure. And I’ll let you know about the expansion. Plan on coming by next month when you’re in town for Harper’s appointment.”

A
fter Dean leaves
, Harper tells me she’s exhausted and needs to nap. Once she’s settled I head down the mountain to Buck’s general store/post-office and connect to his Wi-Fi. I order a bunch of girly shit, mostly stuff Harper wrote down on a pad of paper for me, then I check my email, knowing I need to write my parents. There’s a note waiting for me, from them. Apparently they’re in their RV and headed back to Idaho for the summer.

I email them back. They should know I’m gonna be a fucking father.

Then I grab a basket and walk around the store to get basic stuff like a toothbrush and shampoo. I have a feeling Harper will to want to use something besides a bar of soap. I grab a few food items that I think will make Harper smile. And, shit, that girl needs a break. After she wrote the letter I swear she was flat-out drained.

Buck eyes my basket as I set it on the counter for him to ring up. “What’s all this?”

“None of your damn business.”

“It’s a small town, Jax.” Buck bags the ladies’ deodorant, pursing his lips. “Guessing this shit’s not for you.”

“My friend is staying. Unexpectedly.”

“You’re off the market then? Because damn, boy, women are in here all the time asking about the guy who I was at the bar with a few weeks back.”

I knew it was stupid to ever go out with Buck.

“I’m off the market. But to be clear, I was never on it to begin with.”

“Whatever you say.” When he gets to my food choices he looks at them and then back to me. Then looks at them again. “Pickles and ice-cream? Dude ... you have something you need to say?”

“Not to you, I don’t.”

Pay and leave. I just want to get back to Harper, and make sure she’s doing okay.

It’s not that I want to marry her—fuck no. I’ve hashed all that out with Dean. But I do want to make sure the woman carrying my children is going to be all right.

T
hat first night
at Jaxon’s I wake with a start. Looking around the loft where I was sleeping with him beside me, in his old tee shirt, his breathing heavy in my ear, I wonder if I made a series of terrible choices that will never get me back on the straight and narrow. Maybe I’ve fallen so far off the deep end that I’ll never be able to climb back up and stand.

But then I place my hand on the bump beneath my navel, and I remember that being here in Jaxon’s bed gives me comfort, a sense of peace, and that if I want to experience a smooth pregnancy, I need those things. I need them for my babies.

Jaxon unconsciously repositions himself, deep in slumber, and wraps his arms around me. I let go of the breath I’ve been holding and close my eyes. In his arms I sleep; in his arms I dream of a life I never knew I might want, but suddenly have.

The first day she fried me eggs and made homemade biscuits.

The second day she baked me a dozen chocolate chip cookies.

The third day she whipped up meatloaf and mashed potatoes.

The fourth day she slid a pan of cinnamon rolls into the oven.

Today, the fifth day, I swear I’ve gained five pounds and tell her we need to drink smoothies or some shit.

She just laughs.

And then batters some chicken to fry.

I may not know how to balance a checkbook or change the oil. But I do know how to cook and clean.

I polish every wood surface in that cabin. Which is saying an awful lot.

I wash the clothes, fold the clothes, put away the clothes.

I make the bed.

I bathe the dog, and brush him, too.

I spray Windex on the dirty windows, making them clear as the mountain days.

I watch Jaxon out of those newly cleaned windows.

Watch him chop wood, his shirt off, his muscles taut as he swings an axe over his shoulder.

Watch him wipe his brow with the corner of his shirt, wipe away sweat and dirt. Watch him stack piles of wood for the fire without pause.

It’s usually at this point that I stop whatever chore I’m working on and beg him to come inside ... come inside me.

He always agrees.

He likes to whistle while drying dishes. He loves his dog and his mom and his dad. He is jealous that Dean gets to do what he wants in town and he hates that his choices landed him here.

He remembers dates precisely. He thinks Buck, the guy who delivers the boxes of clothes Jax ordered for me, is an asshat, for no real reason. He likes it when I belly laugh, and he kisses my stomach every night before we go to bed.

He doesn’t press me about my plans, so I don’t press him either.

He makes my heart pitter-patter when he nuzzles my neck. He makes me believe in the possibility of falling in love with a stranger who’s suddenly become my entire world.

He watches me when he thinks I’m not looking.

There’s a question on the tip of his tongue. A question he hasn’t asked.

I’m scared he’ll ask me something I don’t want to answer.

I’m more scared that he won’t ask me anything at all.

She likes to wake early and take long walks. She likes coffee with cream and showers not-too-hot. She likes the smell of the wood burning in the fireplace, and when Jameson curls up at her feet.

She hates cats. She hates seafood. She hates fighting.

I learned that the hard way when we were playing a game of motherfucking SCRABBLE, and I thought a word was a word that wasn’t.

She doesn’t know pop-culture references like Brangelina, any of the Beatles’ songs, and has never watched Ghostbusters. She resents her sheltered childhood, but loves it when I explain the reasons Star Wars is so fucking great.

She is clueless and bewildered and beautiful and brave. She is over her head in a million ways and I have no clue how she’s going to do this next part—raising three children—but she doesn’t seem to shy away from expanding her world. I think the task is too large for even both of us, together.

She tells me of her church family. Of potlucks and bible studies and prayer meetings. She tells me how she memorized entire books of the bible and how her home was so full of people. How caring for them was her favorite thing to do.

I know she’ll be a good mom, but she and I becoming a family? It seems impossible. There isn’t enough time for us both to grow up enough to be all those things at once. Mother and father and husband and wife.

A few months ago I was a bad boy, run out of town, chopping motherfucking wood. She was a virgin, about to marry a man who planned on telling her how to dress, eat, sleep ...
be
.

I don’t want to tell Harper what to do. That’s not my fucking job.

Besides, she knows a lot of what she likes without me giving her any hints.

For example, she likes every position we fuck in.

So, I tickle her pussy with my beard until she drenches me with her juice.

I suck her clit until she gets wet all over me, and then I press my tongue in deeper until she pours out her release.

I kiss every inch of her skin until she writhes underneath me, begging me to fuck her.

I do.

Every day.

For four weeks straight.

M
y stomach is getting slightly bigger
, and it feels heavy. Weighted. Like there really are three people inside of me.

I’m sitting in a leather back chair by the fireplace, drinking a mug of chamomile tea, staring at the ultrasound shots for the millionth me. The edges are frayed and the corners bent, but the three babies are swimming on a black background, proving to me their existence.

“You still looking at those?” Jaxon asks, coming to sit next to me after his shower. He’s been working outside all day with the men from the sawmill, who came up in their truck to haul a bunch of Jaxon’s fallen logs.

He was covered in sweat earlier, but now he’s clean.

“Yeah, just wanted to sit for a minute while dinner is cooking.”

“Smells good,” he says.

I shrug modestly. “Lasagna.”

“Fancy.”

“I guess. But you’re getting low on supplies. Maybe after the doctor appointment tomorrow we can go to the grocery store?”

“Yeah, we could do something like that. It’s gonna be a long day, though, Harper. Maybe we should stay in the city before we drive all the way back here.”

“That’s fine. Like, were you thinking we could maybe stay with Dean for the night?” I ask.

Jaxon coughs. “It can be longer than a night. I thought maybe you’d like to go home for a while? Your parents haven’t seen you since you told them you were pregnant. Maybe they’d like to spend time with you? I could meet them and make sure they know I’m not some creep in the woods.”

I look back at the ultrasound. Swallow hard. Jaxon thinks I told them about the triplets in the letter I’d sent. But I didn’t. Of course I didn’t. And still, after a month together, Jaxon doesn’t seem to understand that my parents aren’t going to be forgiving. They won’t let me back home without begging for forgiveness. They won’t bring me back into the fold unless I repent.

And I don’t want to repent right now. Right now, I want to be here. With Jaxon.

“Are you trying to get me to leave? Because I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” I know my tone is sharp, but I don’t know how to be soft when his words feel like jagged lines, cutting over my heart.

He lifts his hands in defense, as if backtracking before he has even begun. “Of course you can stay, Harper. I just mean, this past month you’ve been playing house here, and its sort of make-believe. Maybe you should go home and face the facts.”

“This isn’t real?” I ask, looking at the small stretch of space between us. I thought we were knitting ourselves together for the past month, that our care and devotion for one another was growing ... but maybe it was all one-sided.

Which feels impossible to believe. It has been real when I put my mouth on his cock, when I spread open my legs and arched my back.

“Even if we were in love, Harper, you and I can’t raise three babies on our own. We’re way over our heads. At some point we’re going to need to start making a plan that involves the help of other people.”

My heart stills, ignoring the responsible words Jaxon says. Words like
plan
and
help
. I don’t hear those right now. I’m stuck on his first sentence.

“You don’t love me, then?” I ask. I want him to proclaim his devotion, promise and make vows. I want him to be something he never said he would be.

But still, I hoped.

“Harper,” Jax starts, running his hand over his beard. “I’m trying, here.”

“Haven’t you loved this past month? Loved the time we’ve spent together?”

“Yeah, it’s been good.”

I can’t help but let a small laugh escape my lips. “It’s been
good
? What am I ... just someone you sleep with? Because I really thought that this thing between us was more than that.”

“You want me to make promises I’m not ready to make.”

“What are you ready for, Jaxon?” I ask. “Because it doesn’t sound like you’re ready for anything.”

“I’m ready for this conversation to be over. I never should have started it. You don’t have to go to your parents, I would never make you do something you didn’t want to do.”

Studying Jaxon’s face, I don’t quite believe his sudden change of heart.

I stand, go to the kitchen and take the lasagna from the oven. “Let’s enjoy this evening and try to relax,” I say, longing to get back to the place where we laughed and smiled and lived in the moment. “Tomorrow we’ll find out the gender of these babies and we can talk about what comes next then.”

Jaxon lets out a sigh. “Good God, woman, thank you for dropping it. For now.”

“How did you plan on thanking me?” I tease, pulling the hot pan from the oven. “Because this is going to need to cool down for thirty minutes.”

“Plenty of time for a thank you,” he says, crossing the room to me. He pulls me into an embrace, and my shoulders fall, my eyes close. I want to sink into this feeling of bliss.

Even if I know we’re using sex to distract us from reality ... right now, I want to melt away.

Holding Harper in my arms feels so right, but I swear there’s something she isn’t telling me, isn’t being honest about. I’m surprised her family hasn’t come out here all month to check on her and the pregnancy ... and that’s why I mentioned that we should go over there tomorrow.

There’s no way in hell we can have these kids without at least some sort of support. We need to get her parents on board. My parents are driving across the country, and should be here soon, but they don’t live here.

“Kiss me,” Harper whispers, tugging my mouth to hers. I give in to her kisses, her hand reaching toward the bulge in my pants. How could I not? Harper is beautiful and my cock grows as she grinds against me. So much of Harper is perfect ... but that doesn’t mean she and I should build an entire life together. It still feels like too much, too soon.

“Jaxon, are you okay? Are you here?” Harper asks.

“I’m here, honey.” I blink back the thoughts running through my mind. The reality of this situation is fucking with my head.

“Good.” Harper smiles, lowers herself to the floor, kneeling before me. She reaches for the buttons on my jeans and tugs them down. “You certainly are here.”

My cock is released from my boxers and is eager for Harper’s attention. She has no problem giving it. In a moment her mouth begins to widen as she takes the tip of my cock. Looking up at me, those gorgeous doe eyes of hers are bright and alive.

I feel like an ass for mentioning her family. She’s such a sweet, generous woman, and I’m a dick for causing her any pain. For bringing up those assholes that raised her.

She takes me deeper and my cock is solid and hard for her as she sucks me.

“That’s nice,” I say, as she takes my balls in her hand, massaging them as she dips her head up and down over my rod. I want her clothes off, I want to see her nice perky tits, her hard nipples, and her dripping pussy.

She keeps sucking me off, harder and harder, so nice and good. A month of practice, and Harper knows exactly what to do. Her hands wraps around my shaft as she licks my tip all the way to the base. My whole cock is slick and ready to slide into her tight pussy.

“I want to be in you, honey,” I tell her as she deep-throats me. She doesn’t stop; she keeps taking me, the tip of my cock hitting the back of her throat, until I’m ready to explode in her wet mouth.

I thrust into her willing mouth and come hard and fast as she moans in pleasure. She loves swallowing my come, loves taking my seed in her mouth.

She pops my massive cock out of her mouth, her lips swollen and eyes glistening with her mounting pleasure. She wants me to fuck her until her legs shake, and I will.

“Will you come in me again?” she asks, standing, her hand still cupping my balls, leaning down to kiss them like she can’t get enough. She loves to fondle me; it gets her nice and wet when she does.

“Fuck yeah, I will,” I tell her, pulling her to me and devouring her mouth. I kiss her hard and with desire. My tongue circles hers, and my still-hard cock pushes at her pussy. My lips trail kisses down her neck, her chest. I tear off her top, and my rod grows harder looking at her perfect tits wrapped up in that red lacy bra. I had fun picking out clothes for her online, bras and panties dripping with lace and netting. Not to mention the crotchless thongs.

Like the pair she is wearing right now.

Stepping away, I push down her pants, revealing that nicely shaven pussy. Since she moved here, her hair has gotten shorter and shorter, until she decided to go completely bare. I like it bare, because that way I can get a better view of her nice pussy lips, her opening when it’s slick with desire, ready for me to fuck her. Or, better, for me to watch her finger fuck herself.

“Touch yourself,” I tell her, slapping her ass. “Over on the rug. I want to watch you make yourself wet.

“I’m already dripping,” she says.

“I want to watch you gush, and I want to lick up all that juice.”

She follows my request and sashays to the bearskin rug. Oh her back, her hair splayed out over her shoulders, her tits big and round, her stomach bump perfect, too. She bites her lip, her hands massaging those fucking perfect globes, thumbing her own nipples as she moans. Her legs spread for me, and I get on my knees before her, my hard cock twitching with excitement as I eye her opening.

Then she pushes two fingers between the fabric of the crotchless panties. The slit is nice and big so I can see everything she does. I could easily rip them off her, but I like watching as she presses her fingers between the silky material, as if she’s reaching for something forbidden, something she shouldn’t have. I watch as she moves her finger in and out, and then, as her excitement increases, she uses the middle finger of her other hand to massage the top of her opening. That’s when she starts to soak my rug. That’s when her hand moves faster and faster as she works to orgasm. Her tight little pussy is so wet, and I can’t help myself.

I need to lick her dry.

I tear off her panties, press my head between her legs and kiss at the soft skin of her inner thighs. Trying to torture her playfully, I kiss around her pussy. Her hands reach for my hair, and she massages my scalp and she begs me to suck her.

“Not yet, honey.”

I kiss her softly, using my hands to reach around to her ass, my fingers grazing her opening, but refusing to go in. When I know she’s desperate, because she’s moaning louder, I use my tongue to make a nice long lick right up the middle of her. Tracing her lips with my tongue, I watch her settle in ecstasy, her moaning turning to whispers.

I start sucking on her perfect little lips, so tender and ripe. My tongue circles her clit, darts up and down her entrance, teasing her with my pulsing. She loves it, tries to wiggle away because the pleasure is too good, too much. I won’t let her get away.

I grip my hands around her smooth legs, and bury my head in her pussy. Eating her out tastes so good and I press my lips into her harder, savoring her juice as her pussy begs for more. I use two fingers and feather them against her insides, lightly flicking until shivers cover her skin.

I grind my face against her entrance, and I know she’s so close. Her legs press against me, asking for more, harder and deeper, so I give her what she wants. I press three fingers into her, fucking her fast, as she starts squirting all over me, her juice fucking pouring on my hand. My cock throbs, wanting her pussy lips wrapped around me tight.

I spread her legs wider, pounding her pussy with my hand; she rocks under me as the orgasm pushes through her. I flip her over, wanting her on her hands and knees as I fuck her hard. Her ass is right in my face—so round, and ready for a good spankimg.

I slap her ass and she moans in pleasure. “Get in me, Jaxon, please. Now. I need you in me.”

She’s right. She does need a good pounding. So I press my cock into her opening, as she’s bending for me. I grip her ass and thrust into her nice and good. Hard. She groans in delight and I thrust again, rocking her deep and good. Her tight pussy can take me now without her gasping because she knows that when I get in her, nice and deep, she’s going to come. And that orgasm is always worth the momentary pain of my massive cock in her.

“Oh, Jaxon, oh baby, oh yeah,” she moans as I thrust again, spraying my come deep inside her pussy walls.

I hold onto her hips, loving her skin up against me. She sits up, my cock still in her. I hold her gorgeous tits in my hands; they’re so big and beautiful my hands can’t even hold them completely. I press them together, her ass grinding on my lap, her head rolling back in my shoulders.

“I love you, Jaxon,” she whispers.

I kiss the soft skin of her neck, not knowing how to say the words she wants to hear. I can’t say them if part of me still thinks I might say good-bye.