BIRTH OF A BABY DADDY (The Baileys #3)

Harley I hoist Calista higher on my hip as I drag our suitcase along the half-melted ice up the quaint path that leads to the front door of Cozy Cottage Bed and Breakfast. This is the cheapest place to stay in Lake Starlight, and it doesn’t look as rundown as I expected. It actually looks well cared for, but a little… peculiar. I’m not a judgmental person—not with my past being what it is—but most people wouldn’t match pink siding with yellow trim. The plethora of garden gnomes and metal sculptures poking out from the clumps of snow around the yard ramp up the weird factor. I don’t remember them from the pictures when I booked online, but it wouldn’t have made a difference. I’m here for one reason and one reason only—to track down my baby daddy. God, that sounds so cliché, but it’s true. Denver Bailey. My one-night stand turned baby daddy. It wasn’t until his picture was plastered all over the news—a plane went missing in Alaska, carrying a famous Hollywood music producer—that I knew where I could find him. Denver was the pilot. That was when I learned his last name. I’d had no intention of seeking him out. But now six months later, here I am in his hometown. Because I need something from him. Calista’s fussing draws me from my thoughts, and I stop to readjust her. I don’t have a chance to knock before the door whips open, revealing a woman. She’s middle-aged, maybe mid-fifties, wearing a colorful dashiki with black leggings. Her shoulder-length black-and-gray hair sticks out from under the scarf wrapped around her head. She frantically waves with dried-paint-covered hands. The neon pink of the paint is set off by her dark skin. “Heeelllooo,” she draws out the word with a huge smile. “You must be Harley!” She steps onto the porch and wraps my daughter and me in an embrace. My back stiffens and I let out a breath of relief when she pulls away, directing her attention to Calista. “Hello, you sweet thing.” She scoops up Calista and my arms instinctively reach to grab her back, but the woman pulls her securely into her chest. I open my mouth to say something, but she beats me to the punch again. “Bring your suitcase in. You’ll catch your death out here. It’s not too spring-like yet.” She turns and heads into the house with my daughter. “Is this your first time in Alaska? How was your flight? What brings you here? I’m Selene, by the way, like the Greek goddess of the moon.” My brain stutters to keep up with her rambling. I have no idea which question to respond to, so instead, I drag my suitcase through the door and close it. Selene takes off Calista’s heavy coat. I peek around what will be our home for the next few days. The inside is just as colorful as the outside. Bright, abstract oil paintings cover the walls, and trinkets decorate every available surface. That will be a nightmare now that Calista puts everything into her mouth. “Did you paint all these?” I ask Selene, who’s busy tickling Calista under her chin, but Calista isn’t giggling. She’s staring at her as if Selene just stepped off a UFO. “I did. I’m not only a patron of the arts, but I’m an artist myself. Made all the lawn decorations you saw outside too.” I smile. “Cool.” An awkward silence hangs over the room. I use the moment to get another word in before Selene starts up again. “It was a long day of travel, so I think we’re going to go lie down for a bit before we head out to get a couple things done.” Selene frowns. “I can keep her with me if you want to rest.” She seems genuine, not like a crazy murderer who will hurt my daughter, but I’m not about to leave my infant with someone I don’t know. “That’s okay, she’s due for a nap too.” I take her from Selene. “I think we’ll just go lie down and I’ll unpack if that’s okay?” “Of course. No problem at all. Dinner is at five. Is that too early for you? I’m an early riser which means early to bed, but I know some people prefer to eat late.” Calista whines because at this point, we’re way past nap time, so I bounce her on my hip, hoping to speed this conversation along. I worried about staying at a bed-and-breakfast instead of a hotel—because of the nosiness from owners and other guests—but I don’t have money to blow on the Glacier Point Resort. “Five is great.” Selene claps, startling Calista. “Perfect. We’re having zucchini noodles with avocado pesto. It tastes better than it sounds, I promise.” I smile and head toward the stairway. Guess I’ll grab something to eat while we’re out. “You’re in the light blue room.” “Thanks.” “By the way, what’s your daughter’s name?” I stop to face her. “Calista.” “Calista.” She smiles. “Most beautiful. Did you know that’s the meaning? In Greek mythology, Calista was a mythological Arcadian who transformed into a she-bear, then into the Great Bear constellation.” She ends the conversation in baby talk as though she’s telling Calista instead of me. “That’s good to know.” My chest weighs heavy as I walk up the stairs. I hope my daughter is a she-bear, because she’ll need to be fierce for what lies ahead. Selene was right. Dinner did taste better than it sounded. After dinner, I grab our coats and button Calista up to venture out to find out more about Denver. Lake Starlight appears to be a small town where everyone knows one another, and hopefully I’ll run into someone who might be able to tell me where he lives or hangs out. As luck would have it, I get an Uber with a car seat and it drops us off downtown in front of the local hardware store, Hammer Time. Well, he was good with his hands. The memory of his skilled callused fingers over my n*****s surfaces, but I shake my head to push away those thoughts. The bell on the door rings when we enter. Once I’m inside, I inhale a deep breath, loving the smell of cut wood and building materials. A man stands behind the counter, bearing a genuine smile. “Can I help you find something?” I return the smile and walk over, taking a quick glance at his name tag. “Hi, Jack. This is going to sound strange, but I’m wondering if you can tell me where I might find Denver Bailey?” “Well, I talked to Austin earlier and he had some big plans tonight, but then they were all going to meet at Rome’s new restaurant. It looks over the town courtyard. It’s not open yet, but I’m sure if you knock, they’ll hear you. It’s just down the street to your right a couple of blocks. Called Terra and Mare.” “Great, thanks so much for the information.” I turn and head for the door. “Hey, what’s your name?” Jack calls. “It’s not important,” I say, the door chime ringing as I leave. I poke Calista in the belly. “Your mommy made a smart decision by going into that store. Jack is like an encyclopedia.” She giggles and I kiss her forehead. As I walk the streets of Lake Starlight in the direction Jack sent me, my stomach turns over and bile creeps up my throat. Calista stares at the sky, and every once in a while, she juts out her mittened hand to catch snowflakes. Only minutes later, the sign with Terra and Mare in gold script on a maroon background comes into view. It’s definitely a classy place. When I peer inside, the restaurant is empty except for a long table in the center that’s surrounded by a bunch of people. I don’t see Denver, but a few guys’ backs are to me, so he could be one of them. It’s been more than two years since I’ve seen him, so I’m going on fuzzy memories at best. More than what he looks like, what I remember most about our night together is how he made me feel I inhale a deep breath, reminding myself of why I’m here. The wind picks up when I push the door open, and a cold draft travels into the warm restaurant. All heads turn simultaneously in my direction. I take in each of them as I step toward the table. I scour them for familiarity, but when my eyes land on Denver, my heart beats triple-time. All the memories of that night and what drew me to him rush to my mind. His good looks and hazel eyes. The way his arms and chest fill out his shirt. How the stubble on his face scraped against my inner thighs. But he’s clearly not on the trip down memory lane with me because there’s zero recognition on his face, which stokes my anger. “I’m sorry, this is a private party. Family only,” a pretty blonde says, sliding out of her chair. “Well, then I guess we’re in the right place,” I snipe. Everyone at the table exchanges looks of confusion. A man in a chef’s uniform emerges from the kitchen and walks across the dining room, carrying a platter of beef. Wait… what the hell is going on? I glance from the chef to Denver. Somehow, the chef doesn’t notice me, placing the tray in the center of the table. “Why is everyone so quiet?” He follows the others’ gazes over to Calista and me. My mouth drops open and I prop Calista higher on my hip. “There’s two of you?” Denver tilts his head and the chef rounds the end of the table, growing closer. “I’m sorry, how can I help you?” the chef asks. The fact that there’s zero recognition in the chef’s eyes either fuels my anger like gasoline thrown on a fire. My eyes narrow. “You can tell me which one of you is the father of my little girl.” Everyone’s head swings from one man to the other. I glance from the chef to Denver, both wearing an identical expression of panic. What have I gotten myself into?