Bad Boy's Bridesmaid: A Secret Baby Romance (45 page)

But I couldn’t
expect it from that damn playboy. He wasn’t my boyfriend, and I had no idea if
I could depend on him as a friend. He owed me one hell of an explanation.

And if he wanted
to be a part of the baby’s life, he owed me more than that.

Like an apology.
A pledge that I could trust him. Some reason that I should let the baby near
the fiend once he or she was born.

We landed before
daybreak. I took a taxi directly to Jack’s house, suffering even more as I
calculated what I had in savings for rent, food, and now…

Baby supplies.
Doctor’s appointments.

Everything.

Jack opened the
door before I knocked. He hadn’t slept, and he looked as sick as me.

“Christ, Kiss. I
was terrified! I thought something happened to you!”

Jack tried to
hug me. I stopped him with a raised palm.

He took the
hint, but he grabbed my luggage and tossed it inside. Then he nearly carried me
to the couch. Tears prickled my eyes as he knelt at my feet.

I couldn’t tug
my hands away. He kissed my fingers and dared to apologize.

“The fight
wasn’t my fault. I just went out for an hour. It wasn’t…” His voice faded as he
wiped a tear from my cheek I hadn’t meant to shed. “I wasn’t meeting women. It
wasn’t a party.”

“The report said
you smelled like beer.”

“It spilled on
me. I tried to break up the fight.”

I pointed to his
black-eye. “You did a terrible job.”

“It was an
accident. No charges filed. No problem. Everything worked out.”

“…You told the
world I was
pregnant
.”

He nodded. “I
wasn’t thinking. But it’s okay. It worked. I already talked to Coach Thompson.
He…”

Cut him? Fined
him? Benched him?

“He
congratulated
me.”

That wasn’t
happy news. I hated the thought that it was all a PR stunt.

Jack met my
gaze. “And the headline? A couple of papers are leading with the pregnancy,
saying we were out celebrating when some other guy caused trouble.” He grinned.
“For once, I wasn’t the guy starting trouble! We did it, Kiss. It’s okay.”

I needed to
throw up. I forced myself to stay still.

“Jolene fired me
tonight.”

Jack’s grin
turned to a scowl, as though Jolene were the one who sucker-punched him. “Fuck.
Why the hell would she fire
you
?”

“It didn’t look
good for the future partner of her agency to be impregnated by her main client.”

“
What
?”

“She thought
it’d either look like I was irresponsible, or like I’d sleep with anyone to get
their business.”

“That’s not
fair.”

“No.” My voice
hardened. “It’s not fair. This is your fault, Jack. I had a plan to announce
the pregnancy. A plan you
ruined
. You shouted it to anyone who would
listen to get yourself out of jail.”

“Not true.”

“You’re out of
control, Jack.” I pushed away from him. “You used the
baby
to get out of
trouble.”

He held his arms
out. “That was the reason we had it.”

Oh, God.

I didn’t think
anything could hurt worse than the humiliation of getting fired.

This was agony.

Was I that big
of an idiot?

“That was a bad
reason to have a baby.” I couldn’t scream, couldn’t yell. I just fell numb and
exhausted and into a state of sheer disbelief. “I love this baby, Jack. I
want
him! I want to raise a child and be a mother and experience that
joy
.”

“You don’t think
I want to be a father?”

I shook my head.
“You want whatever benefits
you
. So you can do as you like without any
consequence. I can’t save you, Jack. Nothing we do, no stories we leak, nothing
will ever help you shed this selfish image. It’s not PR that hurts you. It’s
yourself.”

“Kiss.”

“You need to
decide if you can be a real man, or if you want to run around like a child,
pouting when you don’t get your way.”

“Kiss—”

I couldn’t
handle the nickname. I nearly covered my ears.

My heart broke
with each passing second, and I had no idea how much longer I could endure the
stare of a man who hurt me so much.

“I
defended
you!” I said. “I told Jolene you were a good man, sweet and caring. And now
this?” My voice dropped. “You don’t even care about the baby.”

One step too
far.

Jack got angry.

Really
angry.

His expression
darkened, and I swear he shifted, seething with strength and pulsing with rage.
He grabbed my hand, ignoring me as I resisted him pulling me to the stairs.

Jack wound me in
his arms when I dared to fight. Profanity did nothing. I pounded on his
shoulder, but he was too strong to care what I did. I expected him to drop me
at the bedroom with an order to pack my things.

Instead, he
plunked me in the hall before the unused bedroom. He kicked the door open.

And a nursery
erupted in light.

Jack stood
behind me, his voice unshaken.

“I’ve been
working on this the nights you weren’t staying here. It’s not done yet.”

My stomach
flipped.

The room painted
in soft yellow with brand new, top-of-the-line and designer equipment tucked
inside. He filled it with cribs and changing tables, dressers and rocking
chairs, mobiles and enough pillows, blankets, and plush animals that the baby
would never touch the carpet when he or she learned to walk.

Rivets decals
plastered on the walls, and Jack rummaged through a drawer already full of
onesies. He pulled one out, showing me the little, custom-made baby outfit with
the Rivets’ logo and his number on the back.

“I’ve been
buying things all month. Probably more than a baby needs.” He opened the
closet, jammed packed with toys and diapers and more baby clothes. So much
stuff
it looked like he emptied out an entire store. “I wanted to surprise you. I
wanted…”

I touched the
crib, swallowed as more tears blurred my vision. “The walls are yellow?”

“We hadn’t
talked about learning the gender.”

“Do you want to
find out?”

He shook his
head. “No. It’s exciting to find out when they’re born. I thought that sounded
fun. So, in case you went for it, I picked something neutral for the room.”

Tears burned my
eyes again. The relief that flooded through me was enough to nearly knock me
down. I didn’t know what to say. I stroked the crib, imagining a little baby
sleeping while we watched him.

“It’s all
lovely, Jack.”

“Move in with
me.”

My fingers
clenched the crib. Jack slipped to my side.

“We hadn’t
talked about where the baby would be…kept.” He waved a hand. “I have a lot of
room. We can keep the little guy here. Together.”

“Together?”

“Yeah. You know.
It’s easier that way.”

It really
wasn’t. My chest tightened, but I didn’t know if my head or heart would burst
first. I swallowed, wishing I could just say the words,
ask
what I
needed to ask.

But I couldn’t.
Wouldn’t. Not if anything we revealed would jeopardize raising the baby.
Admitting something he didn’t share would only make it awkward, frightening,
and too complicated.

So I nodded
instead. “That sounds very practical.”

“That’s me.”

“No, it’s not.”

Jack agreed, but
his smile crept back. “Give me a chance to be?”

“I won’t hold my
breath.”

“Will you stay?”

“Jack, I don’t
know. It might get…what if we…”

I met his gaze.
That playboy blue turned to stone, blinding and desperate. He cupped my chin
and forced me into a blistering kiss that rekindled everything that churned so
cold hours ago.

Jack held me
close, whispering as he kissed my neck, brushed his fingers over my arms, and
settled his huge hand over my tummy. His palm covered what would be my entire
womb, but his touch was so gentle, so warm, so perfect.

“I’m sorry,
Kiss,” he said. “But now the secret’s out. We can celebrate and tell people
and…”

“And?”

“And fucking
brag
.
You have no idea how much this secret is eating me up. I want the world to know
you’re carrying my baby.”

I covered his
hand, enjoying the pressure on that not-so-secret part of me.

“I’ll take care
of you both,” he whispered. “I promise.”

“Who’s gonna
take care of you?”

He smirked.
“Still got that short leash you talked about?”

“Yeah?”

“Then, Kiss? You
better string me up.”

“Or else?”

“Or else I’ll
tie you to the bed so you can’t leave me.”

Chapter Sixteen – Leah

The dress was
tight. That was a first.

I twisted in the
mirror and smoothed the cocktail dress. It was the only formal wear I had
unpacked from the boxes stashed in the corner of Jack’s bedroom. He’d piled my
belongings in his closet, like he fully expected I’d share his bed. Neither of
us discussed for how long. Hell, when I’d asked where he’d sleep if I invaded
his room, Jack tucked me against the bed, spread my legs, and dared me to
banish him and his skilled tongue to the couch.

Point taken, as
confusing as it was.

The little bump
wasn’t that noticeable, but
everyone
would be looking for it tonight.
Jack Carson’s baby was already a celebrity and a prime source of gossip in the
league. It worked in our favor. The fundraiser dinner was a great event for
both the baby and Jack to make an appearance. Besides, I needed a good picture
of him circulating in a suit instead of handcuffs.

Jack didn’t
complain about going though. It was strange until I checked the information on
the dinner.

Childhood
Leukemia Fund
.

He appeared in
the mirror behind me, and his hands snaked around my tummy. He settled over the
bump and brushed a kiss against my neck. I shivered in his embrace, as always.
His erection pressed against my back.

“Maybe we don’t
have to go…” His lips murmured against my skin. “You look…”

“Like I have a
bump?”

“Absolutely
amazing with a bump.”

His words warmed
me too much. Whatever barrier I built between us was quickly tumbling down, and
I had no idea how to prevent the fall. I slipped from his grip and covered
myself with a crimson wrap. Jack still searched for the swelling of my tummy.

“I’m surprised
you’re attracted to this,” I said.

“Why wouldn’t I
be attracted to you?”

“You’re always
pictured with supermodels and beautiful women.”

He didn’t
believe me. “And you think you aren’t beautiful?”

“Just think it’s
different with a baby.”

“But it’s
my
baby.” He grinned at me. “I did that to you.”

“I’d like to
think I had something to do with it.”

“Yeah.” Jack’s
gaze burned wicked. “You laid back real nice.”

I rolled my eyes
and pushed him from the bedroom. “We’re gonna be late.”

“You spread your
legs all sweet and innocent.”

“Get in the
car.”

“
Oh, Jack
Carson
…” He mocked me, his voice breathy and high pitched. “
I must have
your baby. Please. Mount me now
!”

I pretended to
ignore him as I stomped down the stairs. “Please behave better than this
tonight. We’re sitting with
journalists
and very important people.”

“Excellent. I
can tell them the story of how you begged me to toss your legs over your head
while I fucked you—”

“—Don’t you
dare—”

“And how you
came like a filthy little slut as I bred you full of my baby.”

“Oh, for the
love of—”

I turned to face
him, but my heels caught on the rug at the bottom of the stairs. I slipped,
grasping for the railing. My fingers weren’t close enough, and I flailed
backwards.

Jack leapt
forward impossibly fast, crashing over the last few stairs to slide under me as
I fell. He caught me in his arms, spun me, and plunked down on the floor. I gripped
his arms. His hand rubbed my belly.

I breathed deep.
His fear trumped mine. He pulled me close, grasping me hard and furious.

I baited him
with a smile and tried to laugh. “My hero—”

His kiss stole
my words. He captured me, nibbling my lips, invading to flick my tongue, and
groaning as I went limp in the intensity of his hold. My pulse raced, not just
for the near-fall, but because I stared into the wild blue eyes of a man who
used his strength, speed, and athleticism to protect me.

I curled my
hands in his jacket. Neither of us moved.

I had no idea
what to say.

What to think.

How to feel when
I was so safe and warm and comforted in his embrace.

My lip trembled,
and the damn hormones overwhelmed me. This time, the tears weren’t a result of
Jack making a sandwich with the last of the peanut butter.

These felt
genuine. Real. Just as honest as when I wept in his arms in the nursery and
agreed to move into his home.

But I couldn’t
trust the tears. Or what they meant. Or how much I loved when he brushed them
away with his thumb. I wiggled from his arms before I snuggled into his chest
forever.

“Come on,” I
said. He helped me to my feet. “We’ll be late.”

“Are you okay?”
His hand grazed my cheek. Too soft. My god, this man. “We don’t have to go.”

“Can’t wait for
that headline—
Jack Carson Misses Fundraiser When Pregnant Ex-Publicist Falls
Down Stairs
.”

“Girlfriend.”

I stilled.
“What?”

“The headline
would say
girlfriend
. Cause we’re…you know...”

My stomach
bumbled, twisted, and turned. “Right.”

I was his
pretend girlfriend. We were just sleeping together. Having a child.

All the
perfectly normal things for two adults to do
platonically
.

How the hell
could people live like this, going day-to-day with no real plan? Jack lived for
the season to start in five weeks, and I had six months to prepare for a
monumental, life-altering change. I missed my lists. My job. The eight-to-five
certainty.

Knowing what to
expect if I landed in his arms again or how to react when received by a huge
crowd in a fancy dining hall, all cheering for the arrival of Jack Carson and
his expectant girlfriend.

The fundraiser
was a formal dinner in support of the foundation sponsoring research into new
leukemia studies. The event was fine; the seating arrangement left much to be
desired. We sat at a table brimming with journalists. Jack handled it with
ease, grinning at the same men who salivated for his scandals and deliberately
misled the public with every story about him.

At least, until
his latest arrest. Once Jack “Play-Maker” Carson became
Daddy
, all was
forgiven.

It wouldn’t last
long. The news cycle grew stale about him. They’d need something big, something
the announcement of a baby couldn’t hide. They waited to nail him. Without
Jolene, I didn’t have the resources to combat it yet.

The waiters
served white wine. Jack ordered me a ginger ale and crackers before I even
asked.

It was the
little things he did that twisted me up the most.

“So, Jack…”
Ainsley Ruport, the lead anchor for the National Sports Network, greeted him
with a smile. It was false sincerity. Ainsley was firmly in the pocket of Frank
Bennett. He wanted nothing more than the scoop of Jack’s latest scandal…then
he’d work to expel Jack from the league. “I never did hear the story of how you
two met.”

Ironically,
neither did I. Jack accepted the challenge before I could answer for us.

“We met at a
bar,” Jack said. “She rebuked me a couple times, but I wore her down.”

Goddamn it. I
kicked him under the table. “He’s joking.”

“I am?”

I stared at him.
“I repped Jack with my previous publicity agency. The bar came
later
.”

“Oh, right.”
Jack gulped his wine. It didn’t suit him. He was a one-beer man, no wasting
empty calories. “We’ve known each other a while.”

“How long?”
Ainsley asked.

“Three years,” I
said.

“Five years.”
Jack spoke at the same time. He swore. My head started to ache. “Only three?”

I forced a
smile. “I didn’t know you in
college
, darling.”

“Must just feel
like we’ve been together forever then.”

He was blowing
it. At least he knew it. His fingers brushed mine under the table. An apology.

Ainsley tilted
his head, a not-so-subtle glance at my tummy. My heart beat a little faster. He
searched as if he expected to find me stuffing a pillow under my dress.

I wasn’t fake
pregnant. We were just fake dating.

The distinction
was important.

“And…congratulations
are in order,” he said.

Jack grinned. At
least that didn’t take any thought. “Thanks. We’re excited.”

“Strange that
your mother didn’t know.”

Another chill on
my spine. Jack stiffened, blinking at the reporter. Ainsley appeared quite
pleased with himself. He tucked his napkin into his lap and helped himself to
an appetizer. He slurped a buttery oyster out of the shell, smacking his fat
lips when he was done.

Jack’s voice
lowered. “What about my mother?”

“When I called
her, she said she had no idea you were going to be a father.”

“You called my
mom
?”

“For a reaction
piece,” Ainsley said. “She was just as confused as me by the whole thing, but
she expressed her excitement for her grandchild.”

Oh no. I bit my
lip. Jack stayed quiet. That scared me more than if he launched across the
table.

“In fact…”
Ainsley leaned closer. His butter-soaked finger glistened in the light as it
pointed between us. He slurped a second oyster, loudly. “She said she had no
idea you two had been dating for so long.” Another gulped oyster. I’d be sick.
“Or at all.”

Jack darkened.
“Do you tell your mother who you’re banging?”

I pinched him
under the table as the other five journalists silenced their conversations.
They turned their attention to us, listening for the story Jack was bound to
give them in his customary rage.

“It was strange
your own mother didn’t know about your lady-friend,” Ainsley said. “Or that
you’re expecting.”

“Been busy.”
Jack spoke through gritted teeth. “Had a lot going on.”

“And you, Miss…”
Ainsley glanced to me. “How did your family take the news?”

I answered
reflexively, offering a statement I prepared the day I agreed to have the baby
with Jack. “We’re all very happy and blessed. A baby is a welcomed addition to
our loving family.”

The comment
would satisfy him. He didn’t need to know what my mother said—that her words
still screamed in my mind, a variety of phrases and insults that had me crying
into Jack’s shoulder for an entire night.

“May I quote
you?” Ainsley asked.

What the hell
was he up to? I nodded. He pulled out a notepad. “Leah Williams…is that
correct?”

“Yes.”

He turned to
Jack. “And, just so I can write this up, what’s her middle name?”

I sucked in a
breath. Ainsley silenced me before I answered. He pointed to Jack. “Please.”

Jack tightened
his jaw. “She doesn’t have one.”

Oh, we were
screwed. Was he an idiot?

Ainsley tapped
his notes. “It’s
Ruth
, actually. According to my sources.”

Jack didn’t
blink. “She hates it. Prefers not to use it.”

“Of course. And
being her
long-term
, committed boyfriend, you would know that.”

“Damn right.”

Jack’s fist
tightened. I took his hand in mine and pulled it under the table. Safe, for
now.

“Been in a lot
of trouble lately, right, Jack?” Ainsley’s smile turned cold and unforgiving
and, worst of all,
smug
.

“Always,” Jack
said.

“Having an
illegitimate,
bi-racial
baby is more than trouble, don’t you think?”

Hell no.

My thoughts turned
molten and violent. I gripped Jack’s fingers, nearly crushing them as I
struggled to maintain a shred of sanity.

He insulted me.
He insulted the
baby
.

He was just
lucky Jack was too enraged to move.

I spoke without
thinking, wishing I hadn’t sharpened my voice to a dagger point. “The baby is
loved, sir. Regardless of his or her circumstances.”

He had no shame.
“Of course. Just the beginning of Jack’s new troublesome legacy.”

“And you would
know about that trouble, Ainsley. You’ve done the most reporting on Jack’s
off-the-field business.”

“You mean
off-the-field
indiscretions
, Miss Williams. It’s my job to report the
news
.”

Libelous fraud.
I silence myself before my temper ruined any name I’d make for my own PR firm.

Ainsley seized
the opportunity. “According to my sources, Jack’s still in hot water from that
latest arrest. The league isn’t happy with you, Mr. Carson.”