AFRICAN AMERICAN URBAN FICTION: BWWM ROMANCE: Billionaire Baby Daddy (Billionaire Secret Baby Pregnancy Romance) (Multicultural & Interracial Romance Short Stories) (31 page)

Chapter 1

              When Aron was eighteen years old he longed to join the military. He dreamed of being a part of something bigger than himself. His ultimate wish was to join the Navy Seals, one of the most prestigious and elite special forces teams within the entire armed forces. He was willing to give his talent, skill, and even his life in order to make his country a safer place for everyone else. This passion drove him to enlist in the Navy at the tender age of eighteen. He worked his ass off through training and passed all of physical and mental tests. Just before his 19
th
birthday, Aron was chosen to become a SEAL. It was the proudest day of his life.

              Aron spent a total of ten years overseas, gallantly serving his country to the best of his ability. He was brave and honorable, making his commanders proud. But, by the end of his tenth year, he was forced to retire. The Navy no longer had a use for him, and they sent him home promising him a fair pension for his hard work throughout the years.

              So he made his way back to his hometown in Texas. He had left as the prom king of the local high school, with everyone recognizing and adoring him, but now everything was different. The people had changed and now familiar faces were hard to come by. As he made his way to his new apartment he felt like a foreigner in his own hometown. Luckily, one of his old friends still owned apartment complexes in the small town.

              It was a shabby-looking building located downtown, but at least it was a roof over his head, something to hold him over until he found something better. Until then Aron was sure that his pension would take good care of him. However, as he checked his mail for the first time he was rudely awakened to a harsh reality. Instead of finding a check in the mail, he found a letter of apology. The letter notified him that his pension would be delayed about three weeks and that, due to budget cuts in military spending, they were required to halve his paycheck, putting him well below the poverty line.

              Aron ran a hand through his hair angrily. This wasn’t fair. He had given up ten years of his life for his country and now they were kicking him to the curb. At this rate, if he didn’t find a job he would end up homeless and hungry. Frustrated, Aron picked up a local newspaper and brought it home with him. As he sat down at the kitchen table he quickly flipped to the classifieds.

              With a red pen, he circled potential jobs. As he did so, his so-called letter of apology kept looking at him, as if mocking him. Anger bubbled inside of him. They had promised him a fair pension and now he was left with a delayed paycheck that would barely cover his living arrangements, let alone food, bills, and other expenses. It seemed ridiculous that he needed to find a job after so many years of service. Was this how every veteran was treated? It seemed unfair, but Aron had no other option. In order to survive he needed to find a job, or two.

              The next day, Aron went job hunting with little success. Aron, although a handsome man with an angular face and beautifully dark eyes, was riddled with scars from countless battles. They ran up and down his body, but they were concentrated on his arms. Most of his potential employers took one look at his arms and found some excuse to turn him down. By the end of the day, Aron was still without a job. He sat in his living room, his head in his hands, wondering what he was going to do.

              He knew, however, that he couldn’t give up. It was going to be hard, but he had to persevere. Even if being a veteran made it impossibly hard to find a job, he still needed a livable income. Aron walked around his living room contemplating his options. As he did so he glanced at the kitchen table, his eyes falling on the mail. Moving quickly, he walked over to the pile of letters before picking up a flyer.

              He smiled to himself. This was his chance. The local high school was looking for a swim coach. With some luck, he could pull a few strings and get a job there.

              Aron wanted to stay hopeful as he went to bed, but as he looked up at the ceiling he was reminded of how difficult it was to find a job in a small town, especially with his background. He wondered if there were other veterans experiencing similar hardships in their lives. Sighing, he rolled over and went to sleep.

              The next morning, he put on his best outfit, a blue polo and a pair of dark skinny jeans. He couldn’t afford a nice suit. Nonetheless, he held his head up high as he entered his old high school. By the end of the day, he found himself the newly hired coach of the swim team. Finally, something was going his way. The school paid a decent wage. It finally seemed like he would be able to live a normal life outside the walls of poverty.

              This ray of hope, however, was quickly snuffed as the school financial office was required to make budget cuts to the sports department. The swim team was the first to go, and Aron was once again without a job.

              Aron sat in his car, driving along the freeway feeling frustrated and angry with the world. Why did nothing go his way? “Dammit, why is everything so unfair?” Aron grumbled to himself as he looked out the window. As he did he noticed the wide open land surrounding him. There were rows and rows of corn and other crops to be harvested. Workers tended to these crops, cultivating them to perfection. Overhead was a billboard advertising
Edvin’s Edibles
:
Creating high-end organic produce for the modern family.
Aron stopped the car, an idea popping into his head.

              By the end of the day, he found himself an employee of Edvin’s Edibles. It was a minimum wage job, but it was something that would keep him off the streets.

Chapter 2

              Even with a job, Aron’s life did not get better. Working at Edvin Farms was not easy. He was at work every morning by 5 a.m. and worked until 3 p.m., even in the beating sun. Breaks were few and far between and, by the end of the day, he came home with a broken back and a painful sunburn.

              Aron had been working at his new job for three months now. He worked in the corn department and, with harvesting season in full swing, his work was now twice as hard. He groaned thinking about it as he eased into his bathtub full of warm water. He allowed the water to wrap around him, easing his sore muscles.

              Aron had an affinity for water. As a child, he loved to run through sprinklers when it was hot outside. When he got older he was in a pool every chance he got. He loved the water. But with no pool of his own, the bathtub was the next best thing.

He lay down now in the soapy water until his head was nearly covered. He closed his eyes and relaxed for the first time in weeks. His pension was still meager but with his pay from Edvin Edibles, he was able to pay rent and put some food on the table. He was a little behind on some of his bills, but he was sure that as time went on he would get back on his feet. In the end, he was hopeful for a normal and stable life.

              Until then he would have to put up with the spartan life he now lived. In the months since his return home, he had lived alone. He found it difficult to assimilate into his old hometown after ten years on tour. It was different living a normal life and communicating in an everyday fashion. Most days he went to work and came home without saying a word to anyone. He had no friends, and soon enough he felt the heavy burden of loneliness bearing down on his shoulders.

              He knew he had to get out of his apartment and socialize if he wanted to escape the threat of insanity. So after six months of being home, he gathered up a little pocket money. He decided to visit the new local bar everyone was raving about at work, Wild West Whiskey
.
Aron wasn’t much of a whiskey drinker but he had to admit it was a pretty catchy name. After tossing on his coat, he made his way to the center of town. Most people would have taken a car, but Aron no longer had the luxury of a vehicle. After the government had once again reduced his pension he was forced to sell his car in order to pay for his utilities.

              Soon enough, however, Aron found himself standing in front of the bar. It was decorated like an old saloon right out of the Wild West itself. Aron smiled to himself. If nothing else, the place looked authentic. With a smile on his face, Aron pushed open the swinging saloon doors and entered the bar.

              The atmosphere was amazing. There were girls dressed in old bar maiden dresses and a man playing a grand piano in the back. He smiled at the décor before sitting down on one of the barstools. He placed his hands on the counter and looked around, waiting for a bartender to get him a drink. As he looked around his eyes fell on a woman wearing an old blue dress.

              She looked like she worked at the bar. There was something about the woman that recalled nostalgic feelings inside of him. But the more he looked at her the harder it was to pinpoint what it was about her that seemed familiar. Soon enough, however, she was walking toward him, forcing him to look away.

              She stood in front of him, her hands on her hips. “How may I help you?” she asked in a rustic southern accent. Aron grinned, about to compliment her on her natural accent when his whole world flipped upside down. As he looked up, his eyes locked with a pair of beautiful hazel eyes. He would have recognized those eyes anywhere.

              “Mila?” he whispered in disbelief. She looked at him, confusion on her face as she tilted her head. At first, she didn’t recognize him. She continued to stare at him, wondering how this man happened to know her name.

              “Mila Amina?” Aron whispered again, looking hopeful. Finally, she nodded. He smiled big. “Mila!” he said excitedly. “Don’t you remember me?” She shook her head, looking even more confused.

              “We went to senior prom together…” He grinned smugly. Her eyes grew wide.

              “Aron? Is that really you?” she spat out in disbelief. “I…I…never thought you would come back…”

              Aron chuckled. “Neither did I, but I was sent home about six months ago,” he explained. Mila’s cheeks were red as she looked at him. “May I say, you look as beautiful as ever.” Mila’s cheeks reddened even more as she heard the compliment.

              “I see you are still the hopeless romantic I dated for three and a half years,” she teased before pouring him a glass of whiskey. He thanked her and soon they were laughing and reminiscing together about their years in high school.

              A lot had happened in ten years. Mila was now married to some rich guy in town and worked at the bar to pass the time between his business trips. Aron felt his spirits darken at the thought of Mila’s marriage. Somehow, throughout the years, he had always pictured finding her again single and waiting for him. But now that she was taken, it felt unfair that they should be reunited only to never be together again.

              Aron ended up leaving the bar feeling a little sad. Mila watched him leave, feeling a little melancholy herself. Aron had been the man of her dreams, but when he left to serve the country she had no other choice but to move on with her life. Now, as she watched the swinging doors move back and forth with his departure, she wondered if she wouldn’t have been better off waiting for him after all. In the dim candlelight, her expensive wedding ring shone dully like a dying star.

Chapter 3

              Aron opened up the door of his apartment with a bittersweet feeling in his mouth. It had been good to see Mila again after so many years, but a part of him felt betrayed. He knew it was unfair of him to blame her for marrying someone else, but at the same time, his old feelings for her were still ever present inside of him, making him wither in jealousy.

              Aron didn’t know who her husband was, but he had to be someone wealthy. It wasn’t just anyone who could afford the rock on her finger. He had to be someone with money, someone with a lot more money than Aron could ever hope to have. Sighing, Aron entered his bedroom, undressing until he was left in only his boxers. He looked in the mirror for a second. His body rippled with muscles but his skin was riddled with scars. He wondered if Mila still found him attractive today.

              He ran his fingers across his five o’clock shadow and sighed. What was the point of maintaining a good body if he didn’t use it? He couldn’t picture himself finding a girlfriend now that he knew Mila still lived in town. Sighing, he kneeled down by his bed and pulled out a box from underneath. He sat down and opened the box, pulling out his old high school yearbook.

              Flipping through the pages, he finally found what he was looking for. Looking down at the page there was a picture of him and Mila at senior prom. They had crowns on their heads and they looked happy. At the top of the page, it said, “Most Likely to Get Married.”

              Aron scoffed before putting the book down. “I wish…” he whispered to himself as he looked out the window. “She has gotten even more beautiful. And I am just a damaged veteran who is struggling to make ends meet. Why would she ever want to be with someone like me?” Aron mumbled to himself before tucking the yearbook under his bed again.

              He sighed before crawling into bed. He looked at the other half of his bed longingly. He pictured Mila lying there smiling at him, coming closer to him, wrapping her arms around him. He dreamed about her that night and what their life together would have been like if he had stayed home instead of signing up for the Navy.