Birth of a Baby Daddy

Harley

I shift Calista higher on my hip, dragging our suitcase over the half-melted ice on the path leading to the Cozy Cottage Bed and Breakfast. It’s the most affordable place in Lake Starlight. The place isn’t as shabby as I’d imagined. It’s actually quite well-kept, just a bit…odd.

I’m not one to judge—especially considering my past—but pink siding with yellow trim isn’t a common choice.

The garden gnomes and metal sculptures peeking out from the snow piles around the yard add to the strangeness.

I don’t recall seeing them in the online photos when I booked, but it wouldn’t have changed my decision.

I’m here for one reason—to find my baby’s father.

God, that sounds so cliché, but it’s the truth.

Denver Bailey.

My one-night stand turned into a baby’s father.

I never planned to look for him.

But when his picture was all over the news after a plane carrying a famous Hollywood music producer went missing in Alaska, I knew where to find him.

Denver was the pilot, and that’s when I learned his last name.

Now, six months later, I’m in his hometown. Only because I need something from him.

Calista’s fussing pulls me from my thoughts. I stop to adjust her. Before I can knock, the door swings open to reveal a waiting woman.

She’s middle-aged, maybe in her fifties, wearing a vibrant dashiki with black leggings. Her shoulder-length black and gray hair peeks out from under the scarf wrapped around her head.

She waves enthusiastically with hands covered in dried neon pink paint, which stands out against her dark skin.

“Heeelllooo,” she elongates the word, a huge smile on her face. “You must be Harley!”

She steps onto the porch and wraps both Calista and me in a hug. I stiffen and breathe a sigh of relief when she pulls away, focusing on Calista.

“Hello, you sweet thing.”

She scoops up Calista and my arms instinctively reach out to take her back, but the woman holds her securely. I open my mouth to say something, but she beats me to it.

“Bring your suitcase in. You’ll freeze out here. It’s not quite spring 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 struggles to keep up with her chatter. I’m not sure which question to answer, so I just drag my suitcase inside and close the door.

Selene is removing Calista’s heavy coat.

I glance around what will be our home for the next few days. The inside is as colorful as the outside.

Bright abstract oil paintings cover the walls and trinkets decorate every surface, which will be a problem now that Calista puts everything in her mouth.

“Did you paint all these?” I ask Selene, who’s busy tickling Calista under her chin. But Calista isn’t laughing. She’s staring at her like she’s an alien.

“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 fills the room, and I seize the moment to speak before Selene starts again.

“It was a long day of travel, so I think we’re just going to rest for a bit before we head out to run some errands.”

Selene frowns. “I can watch her if you want to rest.”

She seems sincere, not like a crazy person who would harm my daughter, but I’m not about to leave my baby with a stranger.

“That’s okay, she needs a nap, too.” I reach out to take her from Selene. “I think we’ll just rest, 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 we’re way past nap time, so I bounce her on my hip, hoping to speed up this conversation.

I was worried about staying at a bed and breakfast instead of a hotel because of the potential for nosiness from owners and other guests, but I can’t afford the Glacier Point Resort.

“Five is great.”

Selene claps her hands, 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 stairs. 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 an Arcadian who transformed into a she-bear, then into the Great Bear constellation.” She ends the conversation in baby talk, as if she’s telling Calista instead of me.

“That’s good to know.”

My chest feels heavy as I climb the stairs. I hope my daughter is a she-bear because she’ll need to be strong for what lies ahead.

***

Selene was right. Dinner did taste better than it sounded. I grab our coats and button up Calista to venture out and learn more about Denver.

Lake Starlight is one of those small towns where everyone seems to know everyone else. I’m hoping I’ll bump into someone who can point me in the direction of Denver Bailey.

As fate would have it, my Uber drops me off right in the heart of town, in front of a hardware store called Hammer Time. It’s fitting, considering Denver was always handy.

A memory of his rough, skilled fingers tracing my nipples flashes in my mind, but I shake it off.

The door chimes as we step inside. I take a deep breath, savoring the scent of fresh-cut wood and construction materials.

“Can I help you find something?” A friendly man behind the counter asks.

I return his smile and approach the counter, glancing at his nametag. “Hi Jack. This might sound odd, but I’m looking for Denver Bailey. Do you know where I might find him?”

“Last I heard, Austin was planning something big tonight. They were all supposed to meet at Rome’s new restaurant. It overlooks the town square.

“It’s not officially open yet, but if you knock, they should hear you. It’s just a couple of blocks down the street on your right. The place is called Terra & Mare.”

“Thanks for the help,” I say, turning to leave.

“Wait, what’s your name?” Jack calls after me.

“It’s not important,” I reply, the door chime ringing as I exit.

I tickle Calista’s belly. “Your mommy made a smart move asking Jack. He’s like a walking encyclopedia.”

She giggles, and I plant a kiss on her forehead.

As I navigate the streets of Lake Starlight, following Jack’s directions, my stomach churns and a wave of nausea washes over me.

Calista is preoccupied with the sky, occasionally reaching out a mittened hand to catch falling snowflakes.

Soon, I spot the sign for Terra & Mare, written in elegant gold script against a maroon background. It’s a classy joint.

Peering inside, I see a long table in the center of the restaurant, surrounded by a group of people.

It’s been over two years since I last saw Denver, so my memories of him are a bit hazy.

More than his physical appearance, what I remember most about our night together is how he made me feel.

I take a deep breath, reminding myself why I’m here. The wind picks up as I push open the door, sending a chilly gust into the warm restaurant.

Every head turns in my direction.

I scan each face as I approach the table, searching for a familiar one. But when my eyes land on Denver, my heart starts racing.

Memories of that night flood back—the way his hazel eyes sparkled, how his arms and chest filled out his shirt, the feel of his stubble against my inner thighs.

But he doesn’t seem to share my trip down memory lane. There’s no recognition in his eyes, which only fuels my anger.

“I’m sorry, this is a private party. Family only,” a pretty blonde woman says, standing up from her chair.

“Well, then I guess we’re in the right place,” I retort.

Confused looks are exchanged around the table.

A man in a chef’s uniform comes out of the kitchen, carrying a platter of beef.

Wait… what the hell is happening?

I glance from the chef to Denver.

The chef, oblivious to my presence, places the tray in the center of the table. “Why is everyone so quiet?” he asks, following their gazes to me and Calista.

My mouth falls open and I adjust Calista on my hip. “There’s two of you?”

Denver tilts his head and the chef approaches us.

“I’m sorry, how can I help you?” he asks. The lack of recognition in his eyes only stokes my anger further.

My eyes narrow. “You can tell me which one of you is the father of my daughter.”

Every head at the table swings from one man to the other.

I glance from the chef to Denver, both of whom look terrified.

What have I gotten myself into?