Baby Daddy Wanted (Crescent Cove 5)

Right. Because both Ally and Sage had sexy guys—twins no less—who were madly in love with them and had planted babies in them without even being asked. And now Sage was glad not to be knocked up again.

Wicked bad cramps, my keister.

Every little slice of daily life seemed like a personal shot against me and my situation. Which was just silly. They were my friends. Well, kind of. I knew them a little through Rylee, but I wanted to get to know them more.

Not stand here and pout while they looked at each other uncomfortably as the silence between us extended.

“Coming right up,” I said brightly, shaking myself out of my stupor.

After I filled their orders, they flashed sympathetic glances at me as they stuffed far more in my tip jar than was necessary.

Number fifty fail-whale moment of the day.

On my next break, I took a chance and looked at the disaster zone that was my inbox. Now up to 202 emails. My box was overflowing, quite literally.

Chewing on the corner of my thumbnail, I scrolled through some one-handed. A bunch went right into the trash. And I do mean right in. Salacious offers were an instant delete, no response necessary. Concerned comments from townsfolk who thought I’d lost my sugar cubes were starred for later replies.

Then I came upon an interesting one indeed.

On the surface, it wasn’t that much different than the other worried emails. Just something about it tweaked me in the chest. Dangerously close to my heart.

Vee,

I’m sure you’re getting lots of responses to your offer. I wanted to make sure you knew it was posted in the Crescent Cove main group. If it’s a mistake, I can help. We can pretend it was just a joke. I’ll say I hacked into your account as retribution for you putting peanut butter in my brownies. Peanut butter belongs in many things, but not brownies. Why ruin all that gooey chocolate perfection? But if you were serious, if you meant your request… I guess you can count me in.

Sincerely,

Cabin Fortress

Three

Murphy

Dear Cabin Fortress:

Your name intrigues me, as does your kind offer. But I was the one who put my post in the wrong group, so I will take the heat. I’m a cuppa half full kind of girl, so maybe it’ll widen my net—so to speak—to more prospective baby daddies. Like, say, yourself. Though you said you guess I could count you in. Have you had time to decide if you’re still lukewarm about it or have you moved to hot?

Yours,

Vee

I’d only read her note eleven times.

Yours, Vee.

Fuck.

I didn’t know how to answer her. I’d wanted her to be mine for so damn long even seeing it written to me teasingly had put me in a funk all damn morning. I’d been waiting for an answer for what felt like forever and now I was frozen like a deer on the damn highway. So stupid.

I swiped my forearm across my sweaty brow. Crescent Cove was enjoying an unseasonably warm September. Even the nights were still hot as hell. It was as if August had decided to sit on our little lake town and stay awhile.

And I was dying.

“Moose, are you fading on me?”

“Nah. I’m fine.” I took a long swig from my water bottle and wished I hadn’t read the forecast before leaving this morning. Then again, I’d been watching my phone like a damn maniac, hoping I’d get a reply from a certain someone. Everything after that had been frying me from the inside out anyway.

Add in the fact that the freaking weatherman lied. It was not going to be breezy and cool. And my thermal shirt was not meant for this level of heat.