The Bad Boy's Baby (Hope Springs) (3 page)

So she’d sucked it up and decided to ask his father, despite being scared of the guy. A bad reputation was one thing, but she’d witnessed a few of Rod Brantley’s drunken disturbances firsthand. She went into his auto repair shop, thinking it’d be a safe place to approach him. He was yelling at one of his employees about a mistake he’d made on a car, his face red with anger, and she’d panicked and fled.

Then she asked herself why she was trying so hard to contact a guy who didn’t want a kid in the first place.

It was easy to think she’d done him a favor by not telling him, because he didn’t want kids and she didn’t want to experience what her mother had, a guy telling her how much he regretted being with her. How much he resented having to deal with a kid—which was also something she felt very strongly about protecting Zoey from.

While Cam’s opinion on having kids probably hadn’t changed, there was a big difference between telling herself he’d moved on and was pretty much unreachable so she was justified in never telling him, and seeing him every day and holding it back.

She tried to convince herself that it’d be selfish to tell him just to rid herself of guilt, but it became painfully clear that he had a right to know…

And she was going to have to find a way to tell him.

Chapter Three

This was the moment Cam had been looking forward to least. The closer he, Heath, and Quinn got to his childhood home, the tighter his nerves stretched.

To calm himself, his mind searched for a serene image. Over the years, he’d often imagined sitting at the edge of a clear blue lake, complete with mountain backdrop, to control his temper and keep the bad memories away.

But the image that popped into his head now had nothing to do with nature. No, this one belonged to a woman who had brown eyes, a warm laugh, and had said that she could “screw and bang with the best of them.”

He bit back a grin. He’d wanted to talk to her more, but she’d kept to the outskirts this afternoon, and every time he’d moved into her orbit, she’d gone off on another job, into another cabin, that Pete guy who’d interrupted them earlier in the day trailing after her.

Cam didn’t care if they were together—well, he
shouldn’t
care. Ever since he’d seen Emma, though, he couldn’t stop thinking about her lips and the way she’d kissed him all those years ago. She’d surprised him, and he was so rarely surprised by people.

Just forget about it, Brantley. She’s out of your league, even if she was drunk enough one night to forget it, and it’s not like you’re looking for a relationship anyway.

Because relationships required trust, and all the ones he’d been in only proved women always had another agenda. There was a lot of trying to manipulate feelings involved, not to mention the trap questions that led to fights, and after the last one, he’d pretty much given up ever having another.

He trusted his gut, his brother, and his platoon—more specifically, the other nine soldiers who’d been in his squad.

Nine, until that last mission. Now there were only eight of them left, and seven with him gone… Cam pushed away those thoughts and concentrated on the reason he’d started this line of thinking in the first place.

Sure, Emma seemed like the trustworthy type, but that didn’t change his stance on relationships, and he had other things to focus on. Get the lodge running, along with the hiking and hunting tours, and escape to the mountains as often as possible—those were the main goals. Well, and ensure Mountain Ridge was successful enough that he and his brother could make a living. While the army had given him a place to channel his anger, he’d lost a bit of himself with each mission, and the last one had made him question everything, including whether his squad was better off without him.

While he knew he’d never get back to the person he used to be, he wanted to get back to someone who didn’t always think about exit strategies or how many ways he could kill a possible threat.

Like right now, with the truck pulling up in front of the run-down three-bedroom bungalow where he’d grown up, the urge to bolt consumed him. Open door, tuck and roll, run down the street. As an exit strategy, not too complicated, but those always worked the best, unless enemy gunfire was involved.

Judging from the look Heath gave him across the cab, he understood. “Dad really is doing pretty well. He’s trying, Cam.”

“Is he still drinking?”

Heath’s hesitation said everything.

“He’s trying to cut back,” Quinn said. Then she turned to Heath. “Does he know about…?”

Great. More crap to face? Cam’s nerves stretched that much tighter, seconds from snapping.

“He’s trying to make it work with Oliver’s mom, too,” Heath said.

“The stripper who’s half his age?”

“She’s not a stripper anymore,” Heath said, like that made it so much better.

“Can’t we just stay at the lodge and pretend our father doesn’t live in the same town?”

Quinn put her hand on Cam’s arm. “He’s been talking about you coming home for weeks. He’s been so excited about it, and like Heath said, he really is trying to get his life back in order and make amends.”

“He likes Quinn, too. She doesn’t put up with his crap, and I honestly think our relationship is what gave him the push he needed to try to change.” Heath opened his door, tugging Quinn out with him.

His brother’s happiness made him happy, but Cam was pretty sure it also made Heath overly optimistic. Cam got a kick out of Quinn, too. She was this tiny firecracker whose swearing rivaled some of the guys he’d served with, and she said whatever thought popped into her head. Working together was going to be fun, which was good, because Heath would be hitting the road with his band, Dixie Rush, to promote their album’s release before too long, and then it’d be the two of them trying to keep things running—he hoped they’d be busy enough to make it a challenge, too. He needed challenging and busy.

What he didn’t need was to lose the bit of calm he’d managed to obtain since he’d arrived in Hope Springs, and he was afraid tonight might just undo it all.

With a sigh, he pushed out of the truck. This house, his dad—they were the main reasons he’d jumped at deployment after deployment and volunteered to be stationed in another country.

As soon as his father opened the door, Cam was transported back in time, to the days before he’d been big enough to stand up for himself. It was another reason he’d been so angry when he’d found out Dad had another kid. Cam had worked so hard to keep Heath protected from Dad’s temper and drunken rage episodes, and it’d been such a relief once both of them were big enough to take being cussed out and told how useless they were and push back if he turned violent. Or the always fun days when they needed to be strong enough to carry his drunk ass out of the Triple S after he drank too much and started yet another fight there.

By the time he found out about Oliver, though, Cam had already committed himself to the army, and he felt guilty over how relieved he’d been to have an excuse to get him out of raising another kid, the way he’d pretty much raised Heath after Mom left them alone to deal with Dad.

A mom who’d abandoned her kids, a drunk and disorderly dad, and two boys who were forever in trouble, whether they’d committed the crimes or not—that was the Brantley family legacy in this town.

Hopefully the lodge will help change that, too.

Dad wrapped his arms around Cam and hugged him, patting him hard on the back. Cam knew he should say something about being glad to see him, but he couldn’t muster up the lie. He’d spent most of his life resenting him, and time away hadn’t magically fixed it.

“Cam!” Oliver ran into the room, his shoelaces flying behind him. He held his hand up for a high five and Cam smacked his palm. He barely knew his half brother, but the kid always greeted him like he was some kind of rock star.

“Hey, Ollie.” In every email the kid sent, it was questions about the military, from type of guns to vehicles to missions, or baseball. Cam chose the safer subject. “How’s baseball?”

Oliver launched into an overly detailed account of his last baseball game, then explained that he was trying out basketball now, but he didn’t like it much. His mom, Sheena, came into the room, they exchanged slightly awkward hellos, then they all sat around the table to eat takeout fried chicken, a weird mesh of a family.

Afterward, Dad cornered Cam. “Glad to have you back, son.”

“I’m happy to be back and working on the lodge.”

“Well, I hope you boys find enough customers to keep the place running, but if you don’t, you’ll always have a job at the auto shop. I always figured my sons would take it over.”

While he’d never minded mechanic work, the garage was just one more place where he’d heard that he wasn’t doing anything right and had to suffer from Dad’s temper. “You might as well sell the place once you decide to retire. If the lodge thing doesn’t work out, I won’t be sticking around.” Cam turned to escape the kitchen.

“Son,” Dad said, catching his arm. “Look, I’ve already talked to Heath and apologized for screwing up when it came to you two. I tried to push you so you’d have a better life than me, but I know now that I pushed too hard.”

Cam eyed Dad’s hand—the one that’d caught him this same way dozens of times before the yelling started, and Dad let go, a smart move on his part.

“I didn’t know what I was doing, and once your mom left…” Dad rubbed the back of his neck. “Despite me, you turned out real good. I’m proud of you—of both you boys.”

“Pride’s nice and all, but I’m not sure if it’s enough to make up for all the
pushing
.” Cam remembered having bruises from the pushing that was a lot more like being thrown around. Dad didn’t always get violent when he drank, but the bad nights were especially bad, and whenever he got like that, Cam would sometimes egg him on, just so he’d focus on him and leave Heath alone.

His biggest fear, one that he kept to himself, was that the fact he’d enjoyed most of his missions and took pride at how good he was at taking out the enemy meant he had that same tendency toward violence. That last mission probably proved his fears, too, although he hadn’t enjoyed it, especially not the price his men had paid.

The antsy sensation took over again, and the need for air overwhelmed him. “Dinner was nice. Sheena seems nice enough, too, but do us all a favor and wear a condom,” Cam said. “The last thing you need is another kid to screw up.”

Chapter Four

At the end of the day, Cam wiped his brow with his forearm and then made his way over to the cabin he’d seen Emma disappear into. Yesterday he’d thought she might be avoiding him. Today there was no thinking about it—he’d raised his hand in a wave and she’d ducked her head and rushed away.

All he wanted to do was let her know that he was willing to forget the past and never speak of it again so they could work together without things turning awkward. That was it.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true, because he couldn’t forget their past—and he didn’t want to—but he
could
refrain from talking about it.

Despite the fact that he’d perfected moving noiselessly, he stepped hard on each porch step, announcing his arrival so he wouldn’t scare her again. He even knocked on the open door before stepping inside.

Emma sat in the center of the room, stacks of paper spread all around her. Her brown waves were pulled into a ponytail, with a few loose strands framing her face. The end of the pen tapped her mouth, drawing his attention to the full bottom lip, and a swirl of lust tumbled through him.

He remembered sucking on that lip, and the way she’d responded, arching her hips into his, and he found himself craving another nip. Which made him forget the reason he’d come in here in the first place.

“Paperwork,” she said, unfolding her legs and pushing to her feet. “It never ends.”

“You’d rather be…how’d you put it? Banging and screwing with the best of them?”

She laughed and brought her hand up to her forehead. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Probably not.”

“I’m so glad that I made such a good impression about my
construction
skills.”

“Right.” He flashed her a smile. “Construction. And Quinn and Heath tell me that you designed the cabins, too. I’m impressed.”

Her face lit up. “Thanks. I’m rather proud of them. It’s easy to be inspired when the cabins are going up in such a beautiful place. I’ve always thought this was one of the prettiest spots in Hope Springs, and I wanted the buildings to fit in with the natural beauty, not detract from it. And I wanted every cabin to have a spectacular view and give people that feeling of escaping the world. If I did my job right, they’ll be planning their next trip here before they even leave.”

He found himself drifting closer with every word, and he couldn’t agree more. This place was beautiful, and the cabin designs made him feel like he was at home, whether looking at them from the inside or standing outside looking in. It felt like the world couldn’t touch him here. “They’d be crazy not to want to come back.”

He noticed a black smudge on the corner of her mouth. “Um…” He gestured to it. “You’ve got some ink.”

Emma reached up, wiping the wrong side, and without thinking, he stepped forward and swiped the pad of his thumb over the black drop. Her mouth dropped open, a shallow breath escaping from it, and her eyes lifted to his. Then she took a quick step back and rubbed the spot until only a hint of the smudge remained.

He’d gotten so caught up in how easy it was to talk and joke with her, he’d forgotten that he’d come in here with a purpose. “I hope that you don’t feel awkward because of what happened all those years ago.”

She shrugged. “It happens, right? I mean, not to me. Well, not usually. Or
ever
. But obviously, it did. That, uh, once. I’m fine with it, though. Really.”

Yeah, he could tell by the way she wasn’t looking at him anymore. “We have to work together for the next month or so, and I just don’t want you to think you have to avoid me the whole time.”

“I wasn’t—” At his raised eyebrow, she cut herself off. “It’s not why you think.”

Ah. The shadow. “Pete? Is he your boyfriend?”

She shook her head. “He’s more like…my comanager, I guess. Since this is the first project where I’m taking point, and he’s completed a lot of projects like this, we’re working closely together. I’m trying to make a name for myself with this job and hoping that I can use the experience to get a position at an architecture firm. Possibly even in Laramie or Cheyenne, where there’d be more design opportunities and I could make more money.”

His gut sank at that, even though he wasn’t looking for anything steady with Emma. “Guess everyone tries to leave, right?”

“You did.”

No use in denying that, he supposed. “I did. I wasn’t sure I’d ever come back, either. If it wasn’t for Heath, I probably would be off to Afghanistan again.”

“Is that an option still? You deploying?”

Did she sound upset or hopeful? He couldn’t tell. “Just to the mountains. I plan on heading up with nothing but the pack on my back as often as possible, whether with a tour or not.”

“I’m jealous. I used to head up there for days at a time. Just me, my tent, a good book, the occasional fire… My mom was sure I was going to get eaten by a bear.”

The longing in her voice made it clear that she wasn’t one of those women who claimed to love the mountains and camping but wanted to leave the second you set up camp and a bug showed up. He could picture her by the fire, a book in hand, the glow from the flames dancing across her pretty features, and he found himself wanting to be there next to her. They could chat, she could laugh some more…

“We should head into the hills some time.” Was it so bad to want to be friends with Emma, regardless of their past? There was something calming about her presence, and they obviously shared a few hobbies. “I could use help figuring out exactly what trails and sites I want to use for the tours.”

“Oh.” She retreated to herself again, hugging her arms around her middle. “As much fun as that sounds, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. Those trips are a thing of the past for me. At least for a while.” She bit her lip and glanced down. Then she sighed, one of those sighs that carried so much weight it made it clear that whatever followed would be bad. “I…this is… man, this is hard. I’ve thought of every possible outcome, and I know… But…”

He wanted to put his hands on her shoulders, look into her eyes, and tell her to just spit it out, but he had a feeling that’d only freak her out. Maybe people still viewed him as scary here—they certainly hadn’t been his biggest fans when he and his brother were teens and out causing a bit of trouble, and she’d probably heard a ton of gossip about him and his family. Hell, his dad had knocked up a stripper. Who was apparently getting her real estate license now, so they could be an almost normal family.

“Cam, I have a daughter,” Emma said, all in a rush. “She turned two a few months ago. It’s why I haven’t been to the mountains for more than a picnic or a quick fishing trip in a long, long time.”

Wow. A kid. Being involved with a single mom in any shape or form was another thing entirely, and he understood now why she’d hesitated. “I didn’t realize. So…a two-year-old. You must be busy.”

“You have no idea.”

“Just you? Or are you…married? Divorced?”

The laugh that slipped out wasn’t her usual warm laugh. This one was hollow and almost sarcastic. “No. Never been married. I’m a single mom, and I’m fine with being that, I swear I am. The most important thing in my life is my daughter, and I can take care of myself. I just need you to know that.”

“Okay,” he said, confusion setting in. He understood that having a kid made life more complicated. Maybe his offer had come out more like asking her out on a camping date. And maybe he would have been more okay with that than he’d thought he would be, but of course the news about her having a kid changed everything—he definitely wasn’t ready for complicated of any kind, dating or friends. Casual fun was probably a no go when you were a parent, and honestly the thought had him itching to get away from the entire awkward situation as fast as he could.

“Well, you have a good night. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He started toward the door, resolving again to keep his head down and focus on the lodge, the way he was supposed to, no more thinking about the intriguing woman he’d spent an amazing night with so long ago.

“Cam?”

He slowly turned back, a pang going through him at the vulnerability working its way across Emma’s features. He didn’t know why he felt everything so much more strongly around her. The war between wanting to soothe her and wanting to rush away before he started to care more than he should was giving him internal whiplash.

“That night at the Triple S…when we were in your truck…” She couldn’t seem to decide what to do with her hands. One second she was wringing them together, then she moved one to rub the side of her neck. “Do you remember…?” Red crept across her skin, and she tucked that strand of hair behind her ear.

“Of course I remember—we established that yesterday, I thought.” And again a few minutes ago, when he told her he didn’t want things to be awkward between them because of it.

“What I mean is, do you happen to remember if…?” She brought her hand up to her mouth and bit on her thumbnail. “I thought you pulled out a condom, I just don’t remember…if you actually put it on?”

He frowned. “I’m always sa—” Cold crept across his skin, and his internal organs turned to lead. She wasn’t implying that he might… How old did she say her kid was? “Wait. You’re not saying…”

“I am. That’s the night I got pregnant. Cam, Zoey’s yours.”