Player: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (43 page)

W
e don’t know
if it’s a boy or a girl yet, but we’ve got either William or Christine picket out for names after my Dad and his Mom. I know Hudson’s pretty excited at the idea of having a little girl, but I’ve told him that there are
plenty
of Archer girls already without adding one more little probable spit-fire to the mix.

It was a small wedding with basically just the immediate families; my two sisters and my Aunt Kelly on one side, and the two guys who are for all intents and purposes his brothers on the other. We asked Major Lawson to walk me down the aisle, and Bryce ended up taking one of those online ordination classes and married us right there in the gardens of my father’s house. We were
barely
pregnant at the wedding, but that didn’t mean there weren’t
plenty
of jokes about the “shotgun” nature of it, especially after Logan told me the story of my Dad
literally
breaking up an arranged wedding in Angola between some local warlord and this poor
child
of a girl with an
actual shotgun
. Turns out my Dad was kind of a badass, which kind of makes the tattooed, scarred up, ex-mercenary, ex-drinker, ex-playboy of a Marine who’s now my husband make a whole lot of sense, if you subscribe to that weird Freudian stuff.

I can’t say the aftermath of the blowout with Donald and my telling everyone about Hudson and I was all a fairy-tale ending, because that’s just not real life. Donald
did
end up suing Hudson, who ended up having to settle for some not-that-crazy-amount - well, for
him
- out of court to avoid criminal charges. Of course, after that he used every considerable connection he had to make sure Donald didn’t work in politics ever again, so I hope the $40,000 or so that he walked away with was worth it. And I
did
take a hit in the polls after the announcement about the two of us; guess some people have a problem with other people’s happiness. I still won though, by some almost record-breaking numbers, and on the next term, I was sworn in as the youngest State Senator in New York history. The victory was only made sweeter when we got wind of a massive lawsuit being leveled at Chet by
three
of his staffers for sexual misconduct.

I’m due in two months, so I’m of course as big a fucking whale these days. But for some insane reason I still can’t believe, my hunk of a husband still seems to find me irresistible, and he’s still trying to start things with me in public that we
should not
be doing in public. I know even as excited as he is, he’s worried about having kids just because of his own upbringing and the stuff he’s witnessed in the world. But I know he’s going to be an amazing father. I think the fund we’ve recently started up to rebuild schools in Afghanistan is helping too; helping him work through some of things he saw over there.

After the baby, I’ll be taking some maternity leave before I finish up my term with New York, and then I’m putting my career into Major Lawson’s hands; both of us are actually. We’re excited for whatever comes next, and since we’ve got each other, I know what
does
come is going to be something amazing that we face together. The things you care about are the things worth fighting for. We’ve both fought for what we care about, and somehow against all the odds, we’ve found our happy ending.

S
tandalone Stepbrother Romance
:

Score: A Stepbrother Sports Romance

Secret: A Military Stepbrother Romance

Cockney: A British Stepbrother Romance

Crude: A Stepbrother Romance

S
oldiers of Fortune Series
:

Heat

Burn

Scorch

Roar

A
ubrey Irons enjoys writing
about bold, sassy, and intelligent women and the dominant, cocky, and quite typically forbidden alpha males who love and lust for them; gripping stories, happy endings, and enough heat to keep things extra steamy!

In the real world, Aubrey is kept plenty entertained by her own tattooed Marine husband, their precocious and adorable three year old, and one
very
ill-behaved puppy.

W
hat a fucking week
.

I toss back a hefty gulp of the champagne I swiped from the catering tent, wrinkling my face at the fizzy bubbles tickling my nose.

Flats; I definitely should have worn flats
, I grumble to myself and hike up my bridesmaids dress with one hand as I stalk my way high-heeled through the rose garden.

Ok, I'm well aware that sneaking off to the greenhouse in the back gardens of my father's estate to slam down stolen champagne probably
 
isn't what I 
should
 be doing thirty minutes before my sister's wedding. But with the week I've had, I'm basically categorizing the bubbly in my hand as medicine, and my normally quite sensible sensibilities can go ahead and deal with it.

An 
”amazing opportunity,”
 my youngest sister Chelsea had called it after hearing about the job offer at our late father's company.

Yeah, well, the
real
'amazing opportunity' - the one that I
wanted
- was the team leader position in the research group I was in back at the hospital; the one I was pretty much “guaranteed” by the Administrative Director. 

Of course when that Director is 
kind of
 
maybe
 your 
sort-of
 boyfriend, and you walk in on him getting blown by some slutty young med student, it's amazing how quickly your 
guaranteed
 position turns into her 
actual
 position. 

And no, that's not a euphemism; he actually gave her the job he'd promised me. 

Ok 
fine
, the job at Archer Holdings 
is
 a great job, but that doesn't mean that coming to work for my father's company doesn't feel like moving back in with your parents after failing out in the real world. I mean, it's not like being a Doctor by twenty-seven is exactly 
slacking
, but I can't help but feel like a washout coming back to work for “Dad's” company.

I'm taking another swig of champagne as I shove open the door to the greenhouse, and I guess 
that's
 the reason I don't realize I'm not alone until he speaks.

“Looks like I'm not the only one that couldn't wait until after the ceremony for the champagne toast.”

I actually spit champagne out as I whirl at the uncomfortably familiar man's voice behind me, and when my eye land on him, my jaw about hits the floor under my feet.

No fucking way.

This isn't happening; this seriously can't be happening. It can't be him; there's just no possible way this is real.

But his dark greenish brown eyes lock onto mine as the recognition dawns there, and just the faintest shadow of a grin teases at the corners of his mouth; “You?”

I 
know
 the criminally good looking man in the tux standing right in front of me, even though I'm not supposed to. I shouldn't know about the body built for sin underneath that tux; shouldn't know about the tattoos covering his chest and the coiled muscles of his biceps, or those abs carved out of marble. I shouldn't know how the muscles on the side of his hips groove down like pure sex, and I 
certainly
 shouldn't be able to 
exactly
 picture the thick- well, what I know he's got between his legs.

He's shaved his beard off, and the bruises around his face from the last time - from seeing him slumped in the elevator that night barely a week ago - seemed to be healing. I briefly wonder about the shallow stab wound in his side and how the bruised rib is doing. 

And how is it that I know these things I shouldn't? Because one week ago, I saw those bruises; I sewed up that wound. 

My 
one
 one night stand, the one man I never expected to see again even if I haven't been able to get him out of my head for the last eight days, is standing in a tuxedo, right in front of me, at my sister's wedding.

What the 
hell 
is going on here?

My brain is still trying to get my mouth to work and say 
something
 to the grinning, criminally good looking man standing in front of me, when the door to greenhouse bangs open.

“
There
 you ar- Oh, hey!”

Hudson, my very soon-to-be-brother-in-law, smiles at me, “Good, looks like you two found each other.”

Huh?

“I mean, wow, how long's it been since you guys even last saw each other?”

Warning bells start to sound inside my head, slowly at first and then building louder and louder, until there's an audible ringing in my ears. Hudson opens his mouth again, and the words that tumble out have my heart jumping up into my throat as the floor practically drops out beneath my feet; “Quinn, you know Logan, right?”

Oh God; oh holy fucking shit-balls. No-no-no-no-no...

The words are screaming through my head as I whirl around almost in slow motion to lock eyes on him. I can see the same horrible shock mirrored across his face as his eyes go wide as the recognition dawns on him too.

“You know Logan, right?” 

God
, do I know '
know
' him? 

I know how his lips taste. I know how his tongue feels buried between my legs. And I know how his cock feels as he grabs my hips and slides deep inside of me. Yeah, I think it's safe to say I know Logan Dempsey. 

Except, I sure didn't know who he was 
then
; not 
that
 night.

Of all the men in all the world, it had to be him. The one night stand that never should have happened; and in half an hour my sister is going to marry his brother, which basically means we're family. 

I'm barely breathing as his eyes lock in on mine. And it's almost still in slow motion when he grins and sticks a hand out; “Great to see you again, 
Doc
.”  

Oh, fuck.