Cowboy Baby Daddy

to Stella.

“Sure,” I said. “Sounds good.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Stella

I got up that morning with Christian on my mind. I smiled at the thought of him and relished in how wonderful it felt to have his arms wrapped around me in that park. His words had been so sweet, and his eyes had been so kind, and the entire weekend I couldn’t do anything that didn’t spark a memory.

Every color I saw reminded me of a trait of his body. The redness of my cheeks reminded me of the way his body flushed against mine. The blue of the sky reminded me of the adoration I saw twinkling in his eyes over dinner. The gray backsplash in my kitchen reminded me of the suit he wore to dinner that he had tailored just for me, and even the light streaming through the windows reminded me of the honey blond hair I couldn’t keep my fingers out of that night.

He had permeated every part of my existence, and I had freely allowed it to happen.

The woman’s words from the retirement home kept ringing out in my head. I drove through my favorite coffee shop and grabbed Christian something decadent as her wise words about love drove me to my end goal. I found myself wanting to do little things for him. Little things to show him that he was on my mind. I wanted him to know that I was thinking about him, that someone cared and wanted him around. That he was cherished by someone close to him. I wanted him to know that I supported him in the direction he was taking this company. And how much he had impressed me with how he had stepped up and into this role so easily.

I wanted to know if he was thinking about me the way I was thinking about him.

I needed to talk with him. I couldn’t go another day without Christian knowing how I felt. I wasn’t sure about everything right now, but I did know I enjoyed the time I spent with him. His body felt wonderful pressed against mine, and he made me feel safe. I did know I enjoyed dinner with him, and talking with him made my stomach flutter with nervousness. I was proud of him and that he’d opened my eyes to the way a man should treat the woman who was at his side.

In his life.

In his bed.

But, when I rounded the corner into his office, he didn’t even so much as look up at me. He didn’t move; he didn’t raise his gaze. Hell, he didn’t even stop writing.

He just sat there, oblivious to the fact that I was ready for him.

All of him.

No matter what it took or what others thought.

“Morning, Stella. How was your weekend?” he asked.

“Oh, it was good,” I said as I walked over to his desk. “Nothing too special.”

I set the coffee cup down on his desk, knowing the smell of raspberry mocha would waft up to his nose. I caught him drinking it the other day with a smile on his face, and I wanted him to start his week off right. I wanted him to know that I was noticing the little things about him. That he was important enough for me to want to.

Plus, I wanted to make him smile.

He grabbed the coffee and brought it to his lips without pausing his writing and took a long drink before he set it back down. And during the entire transaction, there was absolutely nothing. No thank you, no smile, no compliment on how good it was. There was no moan of satisfaction, no grin gracing his cheeks, no sign of any pleasure from the perfect cup of coffee I’d brought him.

Tailored specifically to his liking.

Nothing. Like it used to be with Greyson. Nothing, like the way Greyson thought of me. Nothing, like the way Greyson treated me. Nothing, like the way Greyson talked down to me.

Nothing was the theme of this morning, and I felt myself grow nauseous.

“Are you alright, Christian?” I asked.

“Mhm. Why do you ask?”

“You seem off,” I said.

“Well, I am preparing for an out of town meeting. We’re heading to New York on Friday. I need you to join me,” he said.

“What’s the meeting for?” I asked.

“We can discuss that later. I’m still planning out the bare bones. Pack light. We’ll leave early that morning,” he said.