Chapter 5
Goldie
I have never known love like I do when Nurse Martina first lays my daughter on my chest. I loved my aunt deeply, as if she were my mother, and I love my dad, though I don’t remember much of my childhood with him. I even loved Colton for a time. But this …this is unlike anything I have ever felt before. It fills and spills out of my heart. I don’t know how a body is supposed to contain so much love.
“Congratulations, honey,” Davis says.
Something stirs in my chest for this stranger who has stayed by my side, supporting and encouraging me as I delivered my daughter. He looks absolutely wrecked and pale-faced. He did faint after all, and I know he must be exhausted after sleeping in the driver’s seat overnight, then driving for eleven hours, then staying with me all through the birth and afterbirth, even though he had no obligation to do so. And those kisses he gave me…so beautiful. Every moment—although painful—has been more beautiful than the last.
“Thank you for staying with me.” I blush at the soft look in his eyes, the wonderment. Why did he kiss me? I had been so shocked the first time he laid his lips on my neck, then the corner of my lips, and then fully on my lips like a lover. Why do I want him to kiss me again?
I have no idea what to say after I thank him, and I don’t think he does either, as he stands silently by my side while my daughter nurses. Thirty minutes later, when she’s fed and sleepy, I still don’t know what to say. So I ask Davis instead, “Do you want to hold her?”
Davis places a hand over his heart. “Really? Yeah, I would…I would love to if that’s ok.”
“Of course,” I answer as I start to lift my daughter up to pass her to him.
Nurse Martina tells Davis to take his shirt off first so he can hold her skin-to-skin to help him bond with his daughter . And oh god , I don’t know what to make of that. If I should finally tell them the truth—that he’s just a kind stranger who has been more than generous with his time and care, simply playing the role of Dad so I wouldn’t have to give birth alone.
But something stops me from doing just that when Davis raises a light brow at me, silently asking if doing so is ok, especially when he looks so…hopeful…that I’ll say yes. I give him a small nod as my heart races. Why am I not speaking up? Stopping this? Playing pretend right along with him? Why doesn’t it feel like I’m playing pretend?
And then my mouth goes dry as Davis slowly pulls his flannel up from where it’s tucked into his jeans, unbuttons it from the top down, then slips it off his muscular shoulders, all while maintaining unwavering eye contact with me. I’m pretty sure Nurse Martina and I both drop our jaws when he takes off his cap and shakes out his thick hair, then draws the bottom hem of his white undershirt up over his torso, exposing his thick middle with a line of hair that starts at his belly button and disappears into his jeans, and finally reveals a broad barrel chest. The majority of his upper body is covered in colorful tattoos, though I can’t tell what they are as my vision goes hazy, wondering if any of that artwork disappears into his pants right alongside his body hair.
He’s not lean like Colton, and he’s not ripped like a superhero movie star, but you can tell he’s strong, like maybe he used to play sports and developed a soft, fluffy layer as he matured. And— wow , I want to fan my face. I had no idea I’d have this kind of reaction to him, my skin heated as I rake my gaze up and down his form.
I glare at the nurse when she whistles and chuckles. “Damn, Marigold. You are one lucky lady.” She must read my expression because she adopts an innocent one and says, “Oh, don’t mind me. I’ve got a man of my own who rivals yours.” She gives me an exaggerated waggle of her brows as she rubs her baby bump.
Yours .
But he’s not mine, is he? And besides, he’s way too old for me at almost double my age…right? And even though he kissed me, I’m sure it was just an impulsive celebratory kiss. Kisses , I remind myself. Plural . He probably kisses all the girls when he’s happy.
Wait, no.
One—that doesn’t make sense. And two—I hate the thought of Davis kissing other girls the way he kissed me. Crap! I’m young, dumb, and already jealous of imaginary women. Oh! And also a mother. A brand new nineteen-year-old mother who most definitely should not be thinking about boys— men! —right now. Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me? Hormones? Yeah, that has to be it.
I look away, embarrassed, as soon as Nurse Martina takes my daughter from my arm and winks, probably seeing everything I’m thinking and feeling written on my face. She directs Davis to sit in the green pleather chair catty-corner to my bed and shows him how to support my daughter’s tiny, red-topped head. My heart flips when Davis murmurs something to her that I can’t hear. He runs the tip of his nose over her fine hair and kisses her crown.
It should be Colton sitting in his place, holding our daughter. Colton, who should have held me, swayed with me, massaged my back, and supported my belly. Colton, who should have supported my leg, palmed my cheek and kissed me sweetly as he congratulated me on birthing our child.
Suddenly, I want to cry for my daughter, who will never know her father. He’s not here like he should be. And he won’t ever be.
“What’s her name?” Davis asks me, tilting his head when I wipe away a tear before he places another kiss on her crown.
“Lily. Like the red—”
“Red calla lilies. My mother’s favorite flowers,” he says softly, adjusting Lily so he can point to the tattoo covering his left pec over his heart. It’s a—oh my god—red calla lily. What are the chances? After a minute of staring at Lily as he gently strokes her tiny cheek with his thumb, he asks, “What about her middle name?”
“I was thinking of Lydia, after my aunt.”
“Lily Lydia Lewis? Or are you giving her Colton’s last name?”
I hum as I frown. “No, she’s definitely going to have mine.” Colton doesn’t deserve to pass on his last name, not when I will be raising our daughter without him. “But I didn’t think of that—the triple L’s. Not sure I like it.” I chew the inside of my cheek, eyes glued to the calla lily tattoo Davis got in honor of his mother. “What’s your mom’s name?”
“My mom?” He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Her name was Joann.”
Was not is , I remember. That solidifies my decision. “Hmm. Lily Joann Lewis—or Lily Jo. I like it. Feels very Texan.”
Davis swallows, a trembling smile slowly spreading across his cheeks. “You’d really name her after my mom?”
“Well, I mean…without you, I’d probably have given birth on the side of the road in New Mexico, so…why not? If that’s ok with you? Wait, you probably want to save it for your own—”
“No, no,” he rushes to say. “I like it. Thank you.” Davis drops his gaze to Lily, who has wrapped her teeny tiny fist around his thumb. “Welcome to the world, Lily Jo Lewis.”
Oh man, the way he looks at her… be still, my battered ovaries .
I slump down in the bed, wiggling to get more comfortable, drowsy in the silence, while I watch them bond . Just as I’m about to drift off to sleep, Lily stirs and begins to fuss. Davis carefully stands and brings her to me, and the nurse helps me put her to my other breast. I’d be mortified to be half-naked in front of Davis if he hadn’t already seen everything. Literally everything . He must be just as bewildered by this whole situation as I am, but he’s good at hiding it.
I spend the next hour staring at my little Lily as she nurses and drifts off to sleep in my arms, though I’m still highly aware of the fact that Davis never put his shirt back on after he scooted his chair closer to my side of the bed, then slumped back in it with his eyes closed, as tired as I am.
I reluctantly give Lily up to the nurse when my eyelids continue to droop no matter how hard I try to keep them open, afraid that I’ll drop her. Nurse Martina puts her in a clear plastic bassinet that she rolls between my bed and Davis’s chair. His head is dropped all the way back while he snores, his broad chest rising and falling, the calla lily tattoo proudly on display. I fall asleep with the image of him holding my daughter in my mind’s eye.
* * *
I reach for Lily at her first cry, pull her from the bassinet before I’m even fully awake after a pitifully short nap, and bring her to my chest to nurse. When I see that the chair next to my bed is empty and I’m alone in the dim room, a heaviness presses down on my center. Did Davis leave? He wouldn’t just leave after everything we’ve been through without telling me, right?
The next second, as if he could sense me thinking about him, the door to my room swings open, and in walks Davis, looking more than a little rumpled, carrying a large box and a handful of shopping bags. He’s fully dressed again, but his flannel is wrinkled and hanging open instead of buttoned and tucked neatly into his jeans. His baseball cap is flipped backward, so his normally shadowed eyes are visible, dark circles just below.
“You didn’t leave me.” That heaviness dissipates, replaced by a fluttery feeling.
“I did, but only because the nurse said you wouldn’t be able to leave the hospital without a car seat. I figured I’d get some more things for Lily while I was at the store since there wasn’t much in your backpack.”
He drops the car seat still in its box on the floor with a heavy thud and empties several shopping bags next to me on the bed. There’s a soft, white fuzzy baby blanket, a set of white newborn onesies, a tiny, adorable pink and gray long-sleeve flannel shirt, an infant-sized pink star ball cap—which makes me smile and him grin—baby socks, a sleeper sack, pacifiers, wipes, and several packs of teeny tiny newborn diapers.
“Oh wow, did you buy out the whole store? You didn’t have to do all this,” I say as I sift through everything. And I start to cry. Great, heaving sobs that come out of nowhere, wracking my chest as I hold Lily, who now owns more than I do, all thanks to Davis.
He drops the last bag on the bed and palms the back of my head so he can look me in the eye. “Hey, hey, did I do something wrong?”
“No! Y-You’re amazing.”
“Then what’s the matter?” He looks so earnest and genuinely distressed by my reaction. That makes me cry even harder. “Shhh, it’s ok, baby.” He wraps an arm around us and kisses my forehead.
“You’re amazing. You stayed when you didn’t have to, and now you’ve spent all this money on stuff for Lily when you don’t even know me, and that’s so, so, so sweet, and I don’t know when or how I’ll be able to pay you back. I know you have to be exhausted, and…and…”
Davis pushes his purchases to the end of the bed, sits on the edge next to me, and drapes his arm over my shoulder to pull me into his side for a hug. He gently runs his fingertips over my daughter’s head as she continues to nurse. “You don’t have to pay me back. I just…I don’t know. I saw all this stuff when I was in the baby section at the store and started piling things in my cart that I thought you and Lily might need.” His voice drops lower, and I lean closer to hear him when he says, “I told you I’d take care of you until I can get you to your dad.”
I whisper his name and tilt my head. I swear time stops ticking as we lock eyes. He brushes his nose against the tip of mine. Just when I slant my head to the side, thinking he’s going to kiss me—
“Hello, hello,” a new nurse says as she knocks on the door and comes in without waiting for one of us to answer. “Aw, don’t y’all look so cute!” She’s so bubbly and pretty in her fitted pink scrubs, with her bright, shiny hair the color of butterscotch pulled up into a high ponytail that swings with each step she takes.
I feel like a swamp creature in comparison, and I have to fight not to burst into tears all over again when the nurse smiles from ear to ear with pearly white, perfectly straight teeth. I don’t even remember the last time I went to the dentist for a checkup. I’m sure my breath reeks, too. Maybe it’s a good thing she interrupted us so I wouldn’t offend Davis with my breath.
“Do y’all want me to take a picture? I’m just dropping by with the birth certificate forms for you to fill out, but I’d be happy to take a photo if you’d like.” She hands Davis the clipboard she brought with her and waits.
“Oh, sure. Davis? Can you hand me my backpack?”
Davis gets up to find it tucked in a corner. He sets it on my lap gently, then takes Lily from my arms since she’s done nursing so I can rummage through it. I find my cell phone at the bottom of the bag, completely dead.
“Here, use mine.” Davis hands the nurse his phone after unlocking it. Instead of handing Lily back to me, he motions for me to scooch over, then toes off his boots and sits on my right, swinging his legs up to stretch them out. Finally, he hands Lily over to me to cradle, then drapes his left arm around my shoulders, helping me support Lily’s weight with his right arm, holding us like we’re his family.
“Pst, darling. You might want to cover up the girls if you plan on showing anyone this picture.” The nurse winks, and that’s when I realize my tits—in all their swollen, sweaty, aching glory—are just hanging loose for anyone to see. Like Davis, who’s apparently had an eyeful since he walked in and didn’t tell me. He skirts his gaze when I hastily pull my hospital gown back up into place.
I’m sure my face is as red as my hair when the nurse winks again and snaps a photo before handing the phone back to Davis. I groan when I see the picture on the screen. Swamp creature would actually be a step up from what I look like, but I don’t ask him to delete it since I don’t know if I’ll ever get another picture of the three of us once Davis drops us off at Dad’s apartment. I’m not sure I’ll ever even see him again after that, so I want this photo to remember him and how kind he has been since he caught me hiding in his rig.
After I give Davis my phone number so he can text me the picture, the nurse— Call me Sandy —walks me through the forms. “Take your time filling that out. Since it’s so late, I’ll come back for it in the morning before you’re discharged,” she says before she and her bouncing ponytail leave, closing the door behind her.
Without having to discuss it, Davis takes off his hat and leans back against a pillow he shoves behind his head, and then takes Lily from me, dressing her first in one of the onesies he bought, then lays her on top of his chest.
I lean back, too, to fill out the form, tapping my pen when I get to the father’s information section. I skip it, filling out the rest of the form before coming back to it, debating what I should do. In the end, I leave the section blank. If Colton changes his mind and decides he wants to be in Lily’s life, then he has to put in the effort to prove it by pursuing legal action to get his name put on her birth certificate.
I set the clipboard aside after I sign my name and take a sleeping Lily from Davis. He mumbles something, readjusts to get more comfortable, and immediately falls asleep. I smile as I place Lily in her bassinet, plug in my phone to charge, then scoot down the bed and fall asleep beside Davis.
Davis
I’m the first to awaken when Nurse Sandy—who talks as fast as a hummingbird beats its wings in a thick, East Texas accent—strides into the room the next morning, bouncing on her toes to collect Lily’s birth certificate form. I reach over Goldie to find it and hand it to her, and she scrunches her nose as she flips through it.
“Uh oh, Daddy,” she says, giving me the ick , as Dolly might say.
All the staff have simply been referring to me as Dad . The only one I wouldn’t mind calling me Daddy is Lily, though she can’t speak yet, and maybe…maybe Goldie. Hmm . I’ve overheard Dolly calling Wyatt Daddy plenty of times when they think people can’t hear them. Those two don’t know how to whisper to save their lives—much like Nurse Sandy—so I usually try my best to block it out.
“You forgot to fill in your section. See here?” She uses the pen to point out the empty section for the father’s information, and my heart thumps hard against my ribs. Goldie didn’t fill in the deadbeat’s information. “I’ll give you a few more minutes to complete it and be right back.” She hands over the clipboard and bounces out of the room before I can come up with an explanation as to why my information isn’t included. You know, because I’m not actually Lily’s father…
There’s that pang again as my eyes drift down the paper. I don’t know what to do. “Goldie,” I whisper, trying not to wake Lily, who is miraculously still sleeping peacefully in her bassinet. I try again when Goldie doesn’t stir. “Honey?” Her pale eyelashes flutter briefly, and she shifts closer, throwing her arm around my middle and nuzzling her cute little nose against my arm, letting out a sigh of contentment before going still.
I eye the blank section again and make another decision in a long line of crazy decisions I’ve made since meeting her—I start filling it out, but with my information. My hand twitches when I see Lily’s last name filled in as Lewis , but at least I can resist the even crazier compulsion to cross it out and write in my last name, Freeman .
By the time the nurse returns, I’ve finished filling out the form, my heart racing as I hand it over. I try not to think too hard about the implications of putting myself down as Lily’s father as if she were my daughter. Too real, too real, too real.
She checks the form, frowning again, though she tries to hide it. “The baby isn’t going to have your last name?”
I scratch the back of my neck, trying to think up a good excuse. Goldie’s left hand twitches on my stomach, and it hits me when I see her bare ring finger. “Oh, Goldie and I aren’t married…yet. She, uh, she wants Lily to have her last name until then.”
Surprise flashes across Nurse Sandy’s features before transforming into a slow, conspiratorial smile. “Ah, I get it. Might want to take the hint and get to it, Daddy.” Ick . “Clever girl.”
The door barely swings shut behind her when Dr. Patel walks in. She’s quieter than the nurse, but this time, Lily starts fussing in her bassinet, and Goldie jerks awake, wiping drool from the corner of her mouth.
“Good morning, Marigold. I’m here to go over a few things before we can get you discharged and on your way home.”
I check the time on my phone and don’t try to hide my annoyance. “It’s been less than twenty-four hours since she gave birth, and you’re sending her home already?” I slide out of bed when Goldie rolls to sit up slowly with a groan, a hand pressed to her belly as she tries to stand up. I rush to her side quickly with my hand under her elbow to help her, and she flashes me a tired smile. And there I go, wanting to kiss her again. I really need to get control of myself.
“I’m sorry. It’s standard procedure since Marigold hasn’t experienced any complications,” Dr. Patel says with sympathy, pushing her hands into the pockets of her white coat. “If I had it my way, new mothers would be able to stay at least a week while they recover. Alas…” Dr. Patel is quick to go over everything Goldie needs to do once she’s home, though she listens attentively and answers Goldie’s questions without trying to rush her.
When Dr. Patel leaves the room, Goldie slides back into bed to nurse Lily. I look away when she pulls down her hospital gown so she doesn’t catch me staring at her bare breasts yet again .
I gather the items I bought for Lily, stuffing them back into the plastic shopping bags. I hand Goldie her phone, which looks to be at least a decade old, when she asks for it. I also hand her the purple backpack sans the handgun and wonder if she’ll notice it’s missing. She must have found where I’d hidden it at some point when I was asleep in the rig and stuck it in her backpack. I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to bring firearms into a hospital—loaded or not—so I snuck it out, tucked in the waistband of my jeans, when I left earlier and stashed it in the Ford’s glove box.
I have one more shopping bag I hadn’t emptied before and sheepishly hand it over, feeling like I’ve overstepped now that I think about what I purchased for her. “So, uh, Nurse Martina said you might need this.”
Of course, the first thing she pulls out is what I was most worried about. “You bought me a nursing bra?” Her brows dart up. “Thank you?” She says it like a question before rushing to follow it up with a genuine, “I mean, thank you.”
I bob my head, then put on my ball cap, yanking the brim low over my eyes. She thanks me again when she pulls out a brand new pair of black maternity leggings—after checking the size of the leggings she was wearing when she went into labor—and an oversized navy blue hoodie with my dad’s favorite football team’s name printed in silver across the front to replace the New Mexico hoodie I bought.
“I, uh, would have bought you panties,” I say, looking out of the window at the cloudy sky instead of at her, “but the nurse showed me the, uh, the maternity panties they’re providing you with.” I can barely get the words out, sounding strangled as I think about her pulling those panties on, figuring she’s just as uncomfortable with the subject as I am.
She doesn’t say anything to that, thank god, and I still can’t quite bring myself to look her in the eye afterward to see her reaction. When she finishes nursing Lily, she asks me hesitantly, “Will you watch Lily while I take a shower? I mean, of course, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but—”
“Course I will.” I eagerly take Lily from her and gently pat her back to burp her, just like Nurse Martina showed me how.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Go on. We got this. Unless…you don’t need help in the shower or anything, do you?” I ask her when she takes her backpack and bag of new clothes and gingerly shuffles toward the bathroom, wincing with each step. My cheeks heat when I realize what my question implies. Her—naked in the shower. Me—keeping her steady, helping her soap up her body. “Shit, never mind.” I try to laugh it off, even though my dick—the disgusting, perverted thing that it is—twitches at the mental image.
What the fuck is wrong with me? She’s literally just given birth, and here I am, thinking about what it would feel like to slide my soapy hands over her swollen breasts and her belly, wondering how different it would probably feel now that Lily is Earthside. Would Goldie let me kneel before her and shave her legs? Tenderly clean her sore pussy?
Jesus fucking Christ, snap out of Davis! I hate myself at this moment as I give Goldie my back to adjust my raging hard cock behind my belt buckle, which thankfully deflates as soon as I turn my attention to taking care of Lily. I hum one of Mom’s favorite songs she used to sing all the time when Lily starts to squirm, no doubt missing her mother already— Fancy by Reba McEntire. Maybe it’s not the most appropriate song to sing to a newborn, but at least it brings back good memories as I slow dance around the room with Lily to keep her happy.
While Goldie is occupied in the shower, yet another staff member walks in to discuss health insurance before the girls can be discharged. He tells me that, although my insurance doesn’t cover Goldie, my daughter will be so long as I call my insurance provider within a few days of leaving the hospital and add her to my plan. And since I’ve fraudulently claimed Lily as my own, I continue riding the crazy train by digging my billfold out of my back pocket and handing him my insurance card. It’ll be one less thing Goldie will have to worry about, and this way, Lily’s follow-up pediatric appointments will be covered as well.
I’m not sure how Goldie will react when she finds out what I’ve done, but I’ll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it since there’s no going back now.