Cowboy Baby Daddy

Christian was an absolute gentleman, worried about what was going on with me. He was intelligent, kind, proud in a way that made him successful, but sensitive when he needed to be. He was the perfect combination of animal and man that made him perfect for the world he snubbed his nose at, and the only thing his kindness served to do was make me even more nauseous.

Holy fuck, what had I done?

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Christian

The entire plane ride was spent trying to make sure Stella was comfortable. She was pale, her hands were trembling, and every time she swallowed it looked like she was trying not to puke. I was concerned about her, but all I could do was try to make her comfortable. I massaged her legs to make sure they didn’t grow stiff while she was sleeping, I tucked her in to try and keep her warm, and I kept refreshing her drink.

Stella hated it when the ice melted and watered down her drink.

She’d open her eyes for briefly to look at me, and it seemed as if the life was draining from her eyes. It must’ve had something to do with that phone call she’d taken earlier, and I had half a mind to take her phone from her pocket and hit redial. But, I knew if she wanted to talk about it, she would.

I bet that fucking asshole Greyson called her.

She really needed to block his number.

She woke up about halfway through the plane ride and sat up. She looked over at me hesitantly before she grabbed her drink, chugging it down as the neck pillow fell. I removed it before I started rubbing her back, trying to get her to relax a little more, and I flagged the flight attendant down so I could get her another drink.

“How’re you feeling?” I asked.

“I think I’m just stressed. This weekend was such a whirlwind, and now I’m crashing from it, but I still need to file some things away in the office before I can go home,” she said.

“Leave that to me. If you leave me the key to your office, I can do it,” I said.

“No, no. It’s alright. It’s not much. What do you need done at the office? I can do it for you,” she said.

“You’re not doing anything. If anything, I need to do something for you. You’ve got sick days, by the time we land it’ll be right before lunchtime because of the time change. Take a day and go home.”

“Christian, I’m fine. You could use a workday at home, though. Take your laptop and go home,” she said.

“I don’t need to work at home. I need to make sure you’re alright,” I said as I grabbed for the drink the flight attendant brought me.

“You work on the weekends. I drive by and see your car in the lot. Seriously, it’s just a quick peek into the office. It’ll be nothing, and then I can bring lunch over to your place. How does that sound?” she asked.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t want me in the office,” I said, smirking.

“And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were addicted to it,” she said.

“If by ‘it,’ you mean ‘you,’ then yes,” I said.

“Oh, always the romantic,” she sighed playfully. “But really. Go home when we land. It’s a quick trip to the office, then I’ll grab us lunch.”

“Look, I have to go back for some paperwork anyway, so it’s fine. I parked my car at the office before I went to the airport, so we can both ride back to my place in my car. I promise it’s not a big deal.”

I finally got her to back off the issue, but she didn’t seem happy about it. I had to pick up some paperwork I had to fill out and send to the warehouses now that we had everyone’s signature of approval, and in the meantime, I could grab my calendar on my desk in case any of the web developers happened to call. I was excited about the prospect of curling up in my house with Stella for lunch, and I figured if I hunkered down in bed with her while I worked, she could sleep off whatever this was that made her sick.

And if I worked hard enough, maybe I could finish some of hers as a surprise.

She fell back asleep for the rest of the plane ride, and I had to wake her up so we could deplane. We grabbed our things and headed straight for her car, which she’d parked at the airport, and we made our way to the office. We wound through town, her hands white-knuckling the steering wheel, and I was starting to get nervous about the entire situation.

Had Greyson called to corner her at the office? Was I walking into a scenario where I’d have to punch this asshole in the mouth?

I watched Stella send a message on her phone when we were waiting at a stoplight, and I tried to peek over to see who it was. She typed something quickly before sending off the message, then she put her eyes back on the road as the phone dropped between her legs. I studied her closely, watching the way she bent toward the wheel. Her shoulders were trembling, and her hands were getting tired from gripping the steering wheel so tightly. She sped all the way through town and sped up through every single yellow light. By the time I finally worked up the courage to ask her what the hell was going on, we pulled into the parking lot of the office and parked next to my car.

She ripped her seat belt off and jumped out, crashing through the front door before I could hit the sidewalk. She didn’t even bother to shut the door behind her, and I felt my heart leap into my throat. Something was looming over Stella’s head, and I felt my gut churn with nerves.

But, when I walked into the office, I didn’t see Greyson at all.