Page 21 of Stowaway Whirlwind
I step back toward the bedroom door. “Goldie, please. I do. I do.” I catch sight of the cradle next to the bed, and my heart seizes in my chest. Goldie’s not the only one I have to leave. I drop my bag at my feet and kneel beside the cradle to scoop Lily up, carefully supporting her head. I kiss her crown, inhaling the scent of her baby shampoo, before I lower her back down. “Be good for your mama, Lily Jo. I—”love you. I do. Somehow, I already do. I clutch my left pec, acid burning me up from the inside out as I stand and grab my bag.
Goldie is holding back tears, and I hate myself as I step around her and jog to the front of the house. I grab my billfold and the keys to Dad’s Buick from the wooden console table against the wall by the front door, then stuff my bare feet in my boots. I’m truly a coward because I can’t even face Goldie when she shuffles to my side.
Since Lily’s car seat is installed in my truck, I push the keys to the Ford toward her. “Do you know how to drive?” I ask without looking directly at her. From the corner of my eye, I see her nod. “Good. Use my truck whenever you want.” I rifle through my billfold, looking for my health insurance card, and place it on the table next to the keys. I drop my credit card and all the cash I have on hand as well. “You’ll need this for Lily’s pediatric appointments. I, uh, I saved your phone number after I textedyou the picture at the hospital. I’ll call my insurance when I’m on the road. Make sure she’s added to my plan, and I’ll text you the info.”
“Davis…”
I drop my head back on my shoulders when Goldie rests her hand on my belly and rubs her thumb back and forth. Since I hadn’t stopped to throw on a shirt before leaving the bedroom, the heat of her palm on my bare skin sends a shiver of desire up and down my spine, the intimacy of the contact making my dick swell.
“Please don’t go. Not like this.”
Because I can’t control myself when it comes to her, I twist and pull her against me with one arm around her shoulders. She slides both hands around my waist and drops her forehead to the middle of my chest.
I press a kiss to the crown of her head, and my nostrils flare. She smells like me. My shampoo and soap, and my dick twitches against her stomach. Her newlypostpartum stomach. I jerk my hips back. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I have to.”
Her little puffs of warm breath leave me wanting to tip her head back and sink my tongue in her mouth, then push her down to her knees and find out just how warm her mouth would be around my cock.This is why I have to leave.
Thankfully, she banishes the urge when she whispers against my skin, “When will you be back?”
“I…I don’t know. Maybe when I can learn to control myself.”
“Davis, please.”
I shake my head silently before stepping out of reach, forcing her to drop her hands. I walk out of the house in just my pajama pants and boots, the automatic flood lights flicking on, casting eerie shadows from the trees surrounding my property.
It breaks my heart to see Goldie leaning against the front doorframe after I get the Buick started, hugging herself to wardoff the icy chill. I drape my arm behind the passenger seat and finally tear my eyes away from her to look over my shoulder as I back down the driveway.
I slam on the brakes before I make it halfway to the road.
Chapter 9
Goldie
My stomach sinks, watching the Buick reverse down the driveway, even as I reason with myself that he’s making the right decision for the both of us. I shouldn’t be this attached to Davis after just a few days—the most emotionally and physically intense days of my life, of which Davis has been a part of every single second.
Distance. I need to distance myself from him. Not just physically but emotionally as well. Without him clouding my senses, I can recover and clear my head. Figure out where to go from here. How to stand on my own and—
The Buick flies back up the driveway and comes to a screeching halt next to the Ford. I straighten, jolted out of my thoughts, throwing them to the wayside. Davis pushes open the driver’s side door and runs across the yard to jump onto the porch, coming to a stop at the edge.
“God help me, I can’t do it.” His hands are clenched at his sides, thick veins pulsing down his arms as his bare chest heaves, making his belly shake a little.
I can’t help following the colorful lines tattooed on his torso down to the hair below his belly button, then down further, and yup. He’s still hard. I try to swallow, my mouth having gonedry at the sight of the impressive bulge he’s sporting as it swells larger in his pants the longer I stare at it.
“Goldie, baby.” He sounds like he’s in pain. “You gotta stop looking at me like that, or I’m going to have to leave again.”
“Looking at you, how?” I ask, speaking directly to his dick. Davis isn’t the only one who can’t control one’s self. Dick is what got me into this situation in the first place—god, it’s been so long since I’ve had sex—and at two days postpartum, it’s the absolute last thing I should be thinking about.
“Don’t make me say it.” Davis covers the front of his pants with his hands.
I can finally peel my eyes away, dragging my gaze back up his wide torso to land on his red calla lily tattoo before finally looking up at his face. “Say what?”
“Looking at me like you want D—” He clamps his lips together, abruptly cutting off what he was going to say.
Our earlier conversation slams into me, making my legs feel unsteady. “Were you going to say‘Davis’ or ‘Daddy’?” I drag the last word out, raising my brow.
Davis groans and grips his cock through his pants as sweat breaks out over his temples, even though it’s freezing outside. “Oh god, don’t say it, baby.”
“Say what?Daddy?” I have no idea what’s come over me other than the fact that this—whateverthisis—is pushing all of the sobering realities of my situation out of my mind for the first time since Aunt Lydia got sick. It’s fun. Exciting.Fucking weird and wrong, but I roll with it.
