His Lullaby Baby Read online

Mark’s apartment was a flimsy door wedged between the shoe repair and the locksmith. It opened to a flight of narrow stairs that ended in a long, narrow hallway and more stairs. It was only a blessing Mark’s place was on the first level. The climb was never ideal. He would have preferred being home, in his own bed, except his mother was there and no matter how much he loved the woman, her fussing could drive a saint to drink. One would think that being a retired nurse meant she would be calm and understanding, but since his return home, she had lost her mind. Were it up to her, he’d never leave the bed again. She’d pull a full on Misery on his ass and Toby was pretty certain that was the scariest shit Stephen King had ever written.

  At Mark’s door, Toby let himself in. No one in Willow Creek ever bothered locking their door, except maybe Damon. His brother was anal about locks and always pestered the rest of them to be equally anal. Since he had no home, Toby saw no reason to make locking up a priority.

  The single bedroom dwelling with its kitchen and living room combo sat in a murky gloom cast by the eerie green light Mark was so fond of. The damn lamp sat on an end table across the sitting room, throwing everything into toxic green shadows.

  Toby shut the door and made his way into the kitchen. He stowed his cookies away in the cupboard where the pots and pans were kept. He knew they would be safe there; Mark didn’t even know the cupboard existed. Then he made his way to the sofa. His cane was propped against the armrest as he threw himself down. The cushions expelled air as his weight settled. His jacket hit the opposite end, abandoned until morning as he reclined.

  It had been months since he’d done anything nearly as strenuous as climbing repeatedly up and down two flights of stairs. His physical therapy had always been paced and his doctor had warned him about doing too much all at once. Nerve damage like his took years to fully heal and to rush that could cause permanent impairment. But he couldn’t let Addy down either. Something about the worry in her eyes had gotten to him. Maybe it was the soldier in him or the fact that he’d been raised by men who worshiped the ground their women walked on, but damsels in distress had always been a weakness of his. He just needed to remember to take it easy.

  The leather squeaked as he shifted off his back onto his side. He stuffed a lumpy throw pillow between his knees, alleviating some of the pressure. The other one went beneath his head. He bunched it into a near roll mostly to support his neck. He shut his eyes and tried not to focus on his bent legs, or the fine tendrils of pain crackling along his thigh to encircle his kneecap. The steady thrum was making his stomach churn, but exhaustion kept him pinned in place, refusing to even consider getting his pain pill.

  Somewhere in the silence, wood creaked. A frame shifted. His eyes opened and he lay there, staring at the shift of shadow across the wall. His ears strained.

  The sound persisted. It grew louder and faster. Moans and gasps accompanied the chorus. It was all still a mystery until he heard the female whimper.

  “Fuck,” he muttered to himself as the grunts rose in volume.

  The slap of flesh on flesh stung the air, barely muffled by the rhythmic crack of headboard against the wall separating him from Mark’s bedroom. He should have known his friend would have company. He almost always did. But since Toby’s arrival, Mark had taken to going to the girl’s place. Toby should have known that when he’d texted Mark and said he’d be home late that Mark would take it as an invitation to use his own bed.

  “Mark … God, Mark, harder!” The female voice was unfamiliar, but deep and breathy.

  She followed the plea with a sob as the tempo increased. Her screams rang through the apartment, as did the sharp slaps that made Toby cringe.

  Little by little, the wails dissolved into sobs. Literal sobs. The kind filled with pain. Toby’s spine stiffened even as he reminded himself Mark would never hurt a woman. But the all too familiar sound of despair and suffering continued. It was a sound Toby was all too familiar with. He’d heard it enough during his service.

  Comfort and sleep forgotten, he rolled himself off the sofa. He grabbed his cane and hobbled to the door. Closer, he could hear Mark’s voice calling the woman a whore and telling her she deserved it as he pounded into her. The whole thing made Toby pause. He hated hesitating, but he couldn’t be sure if the whole thing was some game or if he really was about to beat the ever loving shit out of his best friend.

  He opted to risk the other man’s wrath and pushed open the door. Without the barrier, the sound was nearly deafening. The shrieks made his head throb, but he pushed it aside and smacked the light on.

  “Get off her!” he snarled.

  The two jumped ten feet into the air. Mark nearly tumbled backwards over the bed as he dislodged from the blonde’s ass. Face tear stained and flushed, the woman Toby now recognized, blinked at him from her all fours position. Her blue eyes were wide, made wider by the streaks of mascara raining down her cheeks and forming thick smudges. She made no move to cover her nakedness and Toby was rewarded by the sight of small, firm breasts and a bare pussy that blazed an abused red. But it was the thin, silver chain connecting the bar piercing her clit to the two in her nipples that momentarily distracted him.

  “Jesus Christ, McClain!” Grabbing a pillow and slapping it down over his now flaccid penis, Mark glowered across the room. “What the fuck, dude?”

  After taking a moment to scrutinize Roxana Harman’s face for signs of distress and finding none, Toby shifted uncomfortably.

  “Sorry, man. Misheard the sounds.” He edged backwards. “Carry on.”

  Mark looked about ready to throttle him. Roxana looked intrigued.

  “You know, you can join us,” she propositioned in that silky, sex phone operator voice of hers. She sat back and parted her knees, giving him a clear view of her dripping cunt. “It’s been a while since I’ve had two men. You can be as rough as you like. I like it hard.” She bit her plump bottom lip seductively. “What do you say?”

  “What?” Mark stared from her to Toby and back with enough horror to almost offend Toby. “He’s my best friend. I don’t want to see his naked ass!”

  Toby couldn’t deny the woman was sexy as fuck and yet his cock gave a weak twitch then went back to sleeping, completely uninterested.

  “Thanks, but no.”

  He escaped before Roxana could try and coerce him. He shut the door behind him and shuffled his way to the kitchen. He left the lights off as he hobbled to the sink.

  He was in the process of filling a glass of water when the bedroom door clicked open and Roxana emerged, fully dressed in a slinky pink halter dress and heels longer than her arms. Her face was still stained with makeup and her hair was in tangles around her bare shoulders, but she stalked to the door and out without sparing Toby even a glance. Mark appeared a moment later, tugging sweats on over his boxers.

  Toby slapped the faucet off and turned to his friend. “Hey, man, I’m really sorry.”

  Mark put up a hand to stop him. “You did me a favor. Chick was a total freak. I was beginning to fear for the safety of my cock.”

  Toby curbed his grin as he twisted off the cap on his pain killers and quickly tossed back two. He chased them down with water.

  “You sounded like you were having fun.” He rescrewed the cap on his pills and set the bottle aside.

  Mark scoffed. “It was fun until she was screaming for me to go in deeper. I mean, I was as deep as I was going to get and I’m sitting there like, fuck, how deep is this chick’s vagina? I can only go so far.”

  Toby burst out laughing.

  Mark grinned. “Way to give a guy a complex, huh?”

  Shaking his head, Toby made his way out of the kitchen. He circled his friend and started for the sofa. The ass groove he’d made earlier cushioned him as he gingerly lowered himself down once more. A groan escaped as the knee on his right leg protested ever bending again.

  “All right?” Mark asked.

  Toby nodded. “Yeah, just did a lot of moving today. Might have set my therapy ba
ck by ten years.”

  Mark moved to the armchair and flopped down. “What did you do?”

  Gritting his teeth, Toby gouged the heel of his hands up and down the length of his thigh, pressing down hard over the raised bit of skin where the bullet had torn through muscle. One couldn’t actually feel it through denim, but he knew where it was; the pain was astronomical despite the months that had passed.

  “I was at the inn,” he mumbled. “Addy needed some help fixing a few things.”

  Mark squinted. “Addy? That chick you ran into the other day?”

  Toby nodded. “I ran into her again when I took the kids to get their riding lesson.”

  “No shit!” Leaning forward, he snatched up the pack of smokes and lighter off the coffee table and pulled out a cigarette. He tucked it between his lips and lit it. The flame flickered across the sharp angles of his face before it went out. White smoke bellowed into the sickly green air, filling it with the stink of tobacco. “Did you get under her skirt?”

  “No.” Toby leaned back. His leg stayed stretched out under the table. He was too afraid to move it until the pain meds kicked in. “She’s got kids.”

  “Shit!” Mark hissed through his teeth. “Tough break. But there are other women—”

  “Not really sure I want another woman,” he confessed, staring down at his knees. “I kind of like this one.”

  Mark squinted at him through another plume of smoke. “Bad move, bro. Women with kids…” He grimaced. “That’s just asking for trouble. Them bitches only want a daddy and you’re too young to get that noose around your neck.”

  Toby frowned. “Addy’s not like that. Plus knowing she’s got kids don’t bother me. I like kids. But she’s married.”

  “Holy Jesus on the dance floor, are you shitting me?” Mark flicked his ashes into the ash tray and wound up scattering them across the coffee table instead. He didn’t seem to notice. “Dude, back away slowly now before you get your ass kicked. What’s the matter with you?”

  “That’s just it!” He straightened and leaned forward like they were sharing some deep secret. “The guy is nowhere to be seen. I mean, I don’t even know what’s going on there.”

  Mark shook his head. “I still think you should cut ties and run. Chick sounds like bad news.”

  Toby considered it. He thought about walking away from Addy and he couldn’t picture it. He told himself it was because he’d made her a promise to help her around the inn, but it was also because … well, he didn’t want to. That clearly made him an absolute douchebag if she was married, but he swore to himself that he wouldn’t do anything. He would help her and that was all. There was nothing saying he couldn’t be a good neighbor. He knew his boundaries, knew right from wrong, and he knew how to control himself. He’d be a gentleman. Just like his mama taught him.

  He arrived at five the next morning. Gravel crunched beneath his tires as he pulled his truck into the empty parking spot off the circular driveway. The sun was still working its way up over the horizon when he cut the engine and simply sat there. Frost glittered in the pale sheen of light. The temperature outside hovered somewhere just shy of zero and Toby knew it was only a matter of time before winter kicked them all in the pants.

  Absently, he fiddled with his keys as he waited for six to roll around. Unlike him, the rest of the world was less inclined to be up before the sun. It was a habit drummed into him at the academy, where they had beaten the idea of sleeping in straight out of his system. But since Mark was still comatose across his bed and there was nothing for Toby to do, he’d gotten himself out of the apartment as quietly as possible and decided to sit outside the inn until Addy woke up. It had seemed like a good idea until he was actually sitting outside her house. Now he just felt like an obsessed stalker. All he needed was his forehead grease smudging her windows.

  “You’re so sad,” he muttered to himself.

  He was still thinking it when the front door opened and Addy appeared on the porch, wrapped in a wool blanket. She waved at him, motioning him to come in before she ducked out of sight once more, leaving the door open.

  Startled by the presence of another person, Toby didn’t hesitate. He threw open his door and lowered himself to the ground. His boots and cane disturbed the gravel as he made his way to the house.

  “I thought I saw headlights.” Addy smiled at him as he stepped through the door and shut it behind him. “Morning.”

  “Morning.” He looked over the foyer and the shadows still straining over the furniture in the sitting room. “Did I wake you?”

  Addy shook her head. “I’m usually up around five.”

  She was dressed, he noted. Her slender body was draped in form fitting jeans and a light sweater in soft purple. Her hair was down with the sides pinned back from her freshly scrubbed face. She looked incredibly sweet, the kind of sweet that made him want to nuzzle into.

  “Sorry if I arrived too early,” he said instead of following through with his desires. “I’m an early riser, too.”

  Addy shook her head. “It’s fine. Coffee?”

  She didn’t wait. Turning on the heel of her flats, she hurried towards the kitchen. Toby followed at a slower pace, not because of his leg, but because watching her move was quickly becoming an obsession of his.

  She was behind the island when he stepped into the space brimming with the warm scent of baked bread and coffee. Only the lights over the counter were on and they shimmered along the silky strands tumbling in straight lines down her back. Cups clinked as they were set on the island. Cupboards thumped closed. It was the only sound in the place. The rest of the house seemed to hum with the predawn silence.

  “Where are the kids?” he asked.

  Addy checked her watch. “Sean will be up in an hour. Hanna will sleep until nine.”

  She poured coffee into the mugs and slid his over to him. A sugar bowl and a milk dispenser were set down between them. He touched neither, but she added two scoops of sugar to hers.

  “And what are you doing awake?”

  She kept her eyes on the spoon she was stirring into her drink. Her hands were steady, but he caught the tightening of her jaw.

  “Just a habit,” she mumbled. She cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “What about you?”

  Toby exhaled. “Also a habit.”

  The corner of her mouth quirked. “Darn habits.”

  Turning away, she reached for the cupboard with all the cookies and withdrew one of the containers. There were several new ones lined along the shelves. Each one had a neat label stamped into the side. He couldn’t see what they said when she shut the doors and returned. The container was set down and uncovered.

  “Muffin?”

  Toby stared at the offering, then lifted his gaze to the woman offering it. “I’m beginning to think you’re trying to fatten me up.”

  Her laughter ran through the quiet and glided like tender fingers along his spine. She set the container down and turned to the oven just as the timer chimed. He watched as the door was yanked open and mitts were donned. She bent forward and he was perverted enough to study the delicious curves of her ass.

  She had a nice one, firm and round and perfect. The jeans hugged them like a lover’s hands. His own hands tightened around his mug as he imagined gripping her as she rode him with slow, even pumps. Against the zipper of his jeans, his cock hardened. The teeth bit into the head, but the pain wasn’t enough to stifle the image.

  “Five more minutes.”

  The bang of the oven door jolted him back to the present. He snapped his gaze up just as she dusted her hands and straightened. She turned to him and their eyes met. Hers were bright and warm, and reminded him of rich, melted chocolate. Her cheeks were pink from the heat of the oven and framed by stray wisps of hair that had escaped the clips. She looked so young and vulnerable. Everything about her made him want to gather her up and protect her, even while a part of him wanted to strip her naked and violate her.

  “Would you like bre
akfast?” She didn’t wait for him to answer as she practically ran to the fridge. The door was thrown up and she ducked inside. A moment later, she returned with an arm full of things. “I can make eggs or pancakes, or—”

  “Why don’t I make you breakfast?” he cut in, surprising them both.

  He knew how to cook. It was a trait his mother had instilled in all her children. It was just not something he’d ever done for another person outside his family. But he found himself getting to his feet and making his way around the island. Addy stayed where she was, which surprised him even more than his offer. The wide eyed look on her face had made him so sure she would bolt the moment he drew closer. Then they were on the same side and sharing the same sliver of space. Her chin tipped all the way back as his six foot five towered over her slight five foot five.

  “Can … do you know how to cook?”

  Toby followed the movement of her lips forming every word and tried not to imagine them wet and swollen, and gasping under his as he pushed inside her. But that close, it was all he could think about.

  “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.” He forced his gaze upwards to catch her eyes. “Are you insured?”

  That haunting mouth of hers bowed. Straight white teeth glinted as her lips pulled back in a wide smile that sucker punched him in the chest.

  “Lucky for me then that I made that payment last week.”

  “Lucky,” he mumbled. “Take a seat.”

  She hesitated, but turned and skirted around the island. She dragged her coffee over and claimed the stool next to the one he’d occupied.

  Leaving her there, he returned all the items she’d drawn out back into the fridge. The thing was full of neatly labeled containers that included dates of creation and dates of expiration. He chuckled to himself as he adjusted his weight on his good leg, propped his cane against the counter and began loading his arm with items. He hobbled slightly as he drew back and let the door snap shut. Thankfully, the counter was only one step on his bad leg. He made it without losing his balance or losing feeling in his limb. The items were set down and he levied his weight against the table.