“Wait, are you talking about me and Belle, or you and Chelsea?”
Damon shook his head. “I’m just saying that whatever your idea is can’t be good.”
“Oh. Yeah, whatever. What I was going to say is I know exactly how you can help this guy out. Wait, you said he plays baseball, right? Is it that Kerrigan guy? The pitcher?”
“Yes,” Damon said slowly.
“Ohhh, shit.” Chris was wearing a huge smile. Judging by the look on Damon’s face, he knew as well as I did how dangerous that was. “He and I played together in college before he committed to baseball. I know exactly who you could get to be his nanny.”
“His kid’s nanny,” Damon corrected.
“Yeah, whatever. Same difference. Anyway…”
When Chris and I were finally together in the back of a cab after meeting with Damon, he stretched out as much as he could in the back and laid his head on what was left of my lap. His ear was pressed to my swollen belly, and he looked up at me with his crooked smile. “I love your ass.”
I snorted. “You love my ass, or you ‘love my ass’, like the whole package?”
“I love those cute little buns of yours and you. The whole package.”
“Just checking.”
“Say it,” Chris teased.
We’d made a little ritual out of me sharing affection for him. I guess I’d gotten so used to acting like I didn’t have feelings for him before our fake wedding that it was only natural. Now it had morphed into its own strange routine. “I almost love you,” I said, shrugging as nonchalantly as I could.
He got up from my lap, putting his index finger to my chin with mock menace. “Do better.”
“I love you most of the time.”
Chris brought his lips close to mine so I could feel the heat of his breath. “Better.”
I bit my lip. “I love you so much it hurts. I used to hit the snooze button every morning, but now I’m too excited to get up and get on my Big Boy. Now it’s—”
Chris groaned, but was smiling, too. “You weren’t supposed to give in that easy.”
I playfully took his lip between my teeth and gave a little tug. “You shouldn’t make it so easy.”
“That’s fair,” Chris said. “I am pretty amazing.”
“Okay,” I said, putting my fingertips on his chest and trying to push him back. “Maybe I do only sort of love you again.”
Chris balled my blouse in his fist, tugging me toward him. “That’s better. And when we get back home, I’m going to make you scream how much you love me by the time we’re done.”
I let him kiss me, and I let the feelings wash over me. Satisfaction. Happiness. Relief.
They were the same blissful blend I’d grown used to around Chris. He felt like my very own Hallmark movie. My ticket to that world where it’s always the first few weeks of fall and everything is wrapped in a warm, puffy sweater. Where it’s always that first day of putting out decorations and making fun desserts by the kitchen window while the colorful leaves drift down outside.
Chris was my happily ever after. He was that risky business decision I’d made six months ago that paid off beyond my wildest dreams. Except instead of fancy cars and big houses—although I guess he came with that, too—I’d been rewarded with love. Not kind of love. Not mostly love.
It was the real deal. The top shelf love you had to put special orders in from Europe. The kind people wished they could get their hands on, but usually had to settle for the imitation version of.
I’d found love, and I wondered if that thought would ever stop making my insides want to explode with happiness.
Probably not.
-The End
My (Mostly) Secret Baby: My Mostly Funny Romantic Series, Book 1
You know that instinct to run when something bad is coming?
Yeah. I apparently missed out on that one.
Because Damon Rose came, and instead of running, I got pregnant.
Read the story that started it all with My (Mostly) Secret Baby: A Grumpy Boss Romantic Comedy. Tap Here>>
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Sign up to my VIP list to get a free copy of one of my books instantly. You’ll also get a bonus scene between Chris and Belle! Tap Here>>
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Last but not least, if this was your first time reading my books or just my romantic comedies and you want more. The perfect place to start is my Objects of Attraction Series. Tap Here>>
My (Mostly) Fake Wedding Page 17