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"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 pa.s.sing 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 s.h.i.+fted, 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, wis.h.i.+ng 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 f.u.c.king 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 c.o.c.ktail 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. h.e.l.l, 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 b.u.mp 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 b.u.mp and brushed a kiss against my neck. I s.h.i.+vered 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 b.u.mp?"
"Absolutely amazing with a b.u.mp."
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 f.u.c.ked you-"
"-Don't you dare-"
"And how you came like a filthy little s.l.u.t 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, cras.h.i.+ng 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 d.a.m.n hormones overwhelmed me. This time, the tears weren't a result of Jack making a sandwich with the last of the peanut b.u.t.ter.
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 G.o.d, 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."