by Leslie North
She fought the laughter as hard as she could, keeping her eyes slits. But the corners of her mouth tugged upward. Donovan watched her gleefully.
“You know all about that, huh, Melly?” he went on.
“Oh my God.” She shook her head, turning back to the folders. She whipped one open, struggling to ignore his words, the tempting heat at her side, the way she just wanted to fold into his arms and giggle and fuck until the sun came up. “Let’s focus.”
“Fine.” He laced his fingers together.
She paused, unsure where to begin. Donovan had managed something spectacular without knowing even the half of it. Usually when her parents came, she existed in a tense, dark cloud for a few hours afterward. He’d managed to dissolve it within seconds. That, at least, deserved a mention.
“I’m really happy you showed up while they were here,” she said, tucking hair behind her ear. “It’s not always easy for me to see them. You made it a lot better.”
Donovan nodded, rubbing the small of her back. Part of her knew she should protest it, but the other part of her couldn’t bring herself to.
“I really don’t like the spotlight,” she went on. “I know I’ve said that before. I’ve agreed to do this show, but as soon as it’s over, I need to be done.” She X-ed her hands through the air for emphasis. “That means the baby gets no air time either. For anything. We both fall off the map.”
Donovan nodded, squeezing her hip. “Yeah. I get that. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you two are invisible.”
Relief threaded through her, but it wasn’t complete. Something still lurked.
It was the gnawing sense of disappointment.
For so much of her adolescence, she’d pined for obscurity. For the comforting dullness of a plain husband and a boring life. She knew it was backwards, but her teenage hormones pushed her to rebel in the opposite direction of what she’d always known.
Part of her, to this day, still wanted that plain partner and their quiet, boring life. Her life would never be boring as a television producer, but she could at least shoot for quiet.
So why did she have to get knocked up by the loudest, most media-friendly man in her sphere?
11
Melissa ran her thumb over the face of her smartphone. She’d been contemplating calling Donovan for at least fifteen minutes now. Dying to send him a text. But too scared to learn the truth.
Everyone was scattered around the house today, far flung and hidden. Donovan was nowhere to be seen, and a lot of the girls were missing, yet everyone was most definitely on set. Melissa worried they were off having an orgy somewhere. Or maybe that Donovan was getting closer to making the decision of who should be kicked off next.
The footage told a strange story. Donovan wasn’t interacting with the girls much and made out with them only in front of the cameras when prompted by her or Frank. There were no nighttime shenanigans going on. No sordid love triangles coming to light. There was plenty of drama implicit in the show, however, since all the girls were primed and ready to win. But still. Melissa was scared to hope that she knew the reason why Donovan wasn’t acting the man whore part he’d promised.
Could it be that he wanted Melissa?
She refused to entertain the idea, hating that she even wanted to go there. Donovan was a hard no. Sure, he was a great guy. Sure, he was hot as hell. Sure, he was the father of her unborn child. That did not mean he was partner material. Being with him would mean a life in the limelight. And she knew better than to get mixed up in that.
Melissa had been wandering the house for too long. She either needed to find Donovan or call him and end her agony. She wandered into the backyard. Nobody back here, either. The party shed caught her eye—she hadn’t checked there. She walked through the grass, taking a deep breath of the fresh air, trying to remind herself to calm the hell down.
It was just that waiting was the worst. Because the outcome was inevitable—Donovan choosing some other woman to be with, even if it was just for show.
She shouldn’t want him. And she still believed that she could talk herself out of it.
Melissa peered through the small windows of the party shed, squinting to see through the dirty pane. She rubbed an elbow against the glass. She couldn’t tell what was in there. Nose pressed to the glass, she jerked when a door to her right swung open.
“Can I help you?”
Donovan’s stern voice startled her, but she could hear the humor in his voice. She stumbled backwards.
“Sorry, I—”
“I always knew you were my secret stalker.” He stepped back from the doorframe, waving her through. “Come on. Get in here.”
She stepped through the doorway, relieved to find that he was alone in there. Not surrounded by the other missing contestants. Not buried balls deep in anyone. Just blissfully, thankfully, alone.
But what he was doing in here was another story. She knit her brow, looking at the seeming miles of toy train tracks crisscrossing the room. “What is going on in here?”
“Welcome to my secret laboratory,” Donovan said. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black workout shorts. “You’ve discovered the geekiest thing about me. My toy train.”
She blinked a few times, taking it all in. The tiny tracks twisted around miniature mountains with painted snow peaks, down through valleys full of artificial trees, through several villages with clustered old-timey houses and horse stables and tiny people with vibrant yellow hair.
“Wow. This is incredible. I thought this was just your workout and party shed,” she said, unable to rip her gaze from the labyrinthine construction.
“Yeah, well, this is another one of the off-limit spaces.” He shrugged. “I didn’t even tell you. And I wasn’t going to, until I saw you mashing your nose up against the window like a lost puppy.”
“Hey,” she countered, “I came on real business matters.”
“Yeah, right,” he shot back. “You just wanted to see my face again.”
Ugh. She hated that he was sort of right. “Your ego knows no bounds.”
“That’s why I got the show.”
“Fine. It’s the show we need to talk about. We need to discuss—”
The door creaked open, and both Melissa and Donovan turned to look. Jasmine poked her head inside, her normally suspicious yet picture-perfect pout turning into shock.
“Hey, you two.” She laughed a little. “What the hell is this? A freaking kiddie paradise? Don’t tell me you made this for your kid already. It’s a little overboard.”
Donovan’s eyes narrowed. Melissa knew it was time for damage control.
“Can we help you?” she inquired pointedly.
“I saw you disappear in here,” Jasmine said, “and I thought you might know where Donovan went. But I guess I found out. You two are always together. Makes me think there’s no point in the rest of us even competing.”
“Jasmine, I’m the producer,” Melissa said, trying hard to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “I’m creating the show.”
“Kind of a lame show if the main guy won’t even hook up with anyone,” Jasmine said. “But whatever. What do I know?” She pursed her lips and walked away, leaving the door to the secret train room partially open.
“Wow,” Melissa said. “I’m not sure where to begin. I came in here to ask you who we should kick off next—”
“Her,” Donovan answered flatly.
“Yeah.” Melissa rolled her lips inward, thinking about how to bring up the next topic. “So, you didn’t hook up with her?”
Donovan shook his head.
“But there was the footage of you guys going into the bathroom together.”
“I wasn’t feeling it.” Donovan sniffed, crossing his arms.
Melissa nodded, trying not to feel excited. Hopeful, even. These emotions had to be pregnancy-related, or else she was really losing her mind.
“Well, luckily we can suggest enough to the audience with the footage we have.” She paus
ed, measuring the words that were about to come out of her mouth. “But you’re going to have to do something eventually.”
“Yeah.” Donovan fiddled with the controls of the toy train. “I know. I got it covered.”
Melissa offered a small smile before letting herself out of his train sanctuary. She, maybe more than anyone else in their potential viewing audience, was waiting with bated breath for what Donovan would do next.
12
Donovan’s conversation with Melissa weighed on him the rest of the day. He needed to do something about it—about her. Let her know, in no uncertain terms, that he wanted her to be the contestant he ended up with.
Maybe it was the baby making him feel like this. But something had shifted. Deeply. It had started the day she’d first come over to his house. Maybe he’d still feel this way even without their unborn baby in the mix. It was hard to know. But it was real.
Donovan jogged to her trailer that evening, before she was scheduled to head home. He knocked on the door, trying to ignore the pulse of anxiety in his chest. He didn’t know what he’d say. He didn’t even know what he was trying to say. Melissa pulled open the door a moment later, looking surprised.
“What’s up, Donovan? Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Can we talk for a minute?”
She stepped aside, gesturing for him to step inside. She’d relocated her office from the sunroom to this portable trailer after being roped into the show. Donovan just suspected she wanted to get away from the drama as much as possible, even while fostering it. Her laptop sat open on her desk along the wall. The heading caught his eye. BEST BABY NAMES.
Everything that had been poised to come out of him dissipated. He cocked a grin. “Were you looking at baby names?”
She rolled her lips inward, hurrying to her laptop. She toggled to a different screen. “Well, it’s just a page that I had pulled up…”
“We haven’t talked about this.” Possibilities flowed through him. Holy shit. They needed to start thinking about this now.
“I know. It’s a big deal. It’s so overwhelming.”
“Show me your favorites.” He pulled up a folding chair and sat next to her, jerking his chin toward the laptop. “Come on.”
“I don’t have any yet.” She slumped against her chair. “All I know is our child will not be named Xander.”
Donovan snorted. “Why? Family name?”
“No. The asshole monkey we used to have in the Bellini show was named Xander. Tormented me the entire year before my twelfth birthday.”
“Noted.” Donovan scrolled through the page a bit, glancing at names. “But I would like to at least have a dog named Xander.”
“Never.”
“Fine.” Donovan hummed while he looked at names. “Hey, what about this? Donovan.”
“Ha ha,” Melissa remarked. “Very original.”
“Oh, come on,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. He couldn’t be this close to her without touching her. “Donovan, Junior. It’ll be perfect.”
“And if it’s a girl?”
“Donovina.” When she snorted incredulously, he hurried to add, “Okay, so what about Rose?” He leaned back into the chair, shrugging. “That’s my grandma’s name.”
“But then it’s all your side. Shouldn’t my side get represented somehow?”
“Xander,” Donovan said, unable to stop the grin from forming. Melissa thwacked his shoulder.
“Not in a million years. What about Martha for a girl, or Gregor for a boy?”
Donovan frowned. “Those aren’t particularly exciting.”
“I didn’t see the ‘Particularly Exciting’ category on the baby name site,” Melissa cracked. “I’ll have to look harder.”
The two settled in to looking through the names page again. After a lot of suggestions that were shot down, Melissa looked like she’d had it.
“Okay. Let’s approach this from another angle.” She tapped a finger against her chin, that pretty pout in full force. “Let’s think. What does a baby bring?”
“Responsibilities.”
She smirked. “More than that.”
“Late nights and diapers?”
“Come on,” she urged him. “Think broader. A baby brings…healing, sometimes. Union. Happiness.”
“Joy,” Donovan offered.
Melissa’s face lit up. “There it is. Our baby girl is named Joy.”
Donovan peered at her for a few moments, letting the suggestion settle in. It wasn’t half bad. And hell, she was right. This baby had already brought a lot of joy to his life.
“I see where this is heading. But what if it’s a boy? Can we name him Responsibilities?”
Melissa dissolved into laughter, and all he could do was smile and watch the show. He loved it when he reduced her to a helpless pile of laughs. It felt like a personal victory.
“As attractive as that suggestion is,” Melissa said, “I still think we should try something else.” She went back to the browser, thumbing through names and pages. After a couple grunts and one “Ah ha!” she turned to him with a broad smile.
“Gale,” she said. “We should name him Gale. If he’s a boy.”
“Gale?” Donovan asked.
“Yes. Do you know why? Because Gale means joy in Gaelic.”
He nodded, studying the hopeful curve of her lips, the honey gleam of her hair, those big, brown eyes that always roped him in, no matter where he was, or what he was doing. Something shivered between them, and the answer was yes, but no words came to him. Instead, he leaned forward, claiming her lips with his own.
Melissa’s surprise radiated through him, but she didn’t pull away. She wanted this, however much she acted like she didn’t. The chemistry between them was fire, and she just pretended like she couldn’t feel the heat.
One kiss turned into another. And another. Donovan cupped her face between his hands, fingers hooked behind her ears. She moaned through the next kiss. And then he pulled away.
“Okay. Take your clothes off.”
She laughed. “Just like that? From kissing to nude?”
Donovan sent her a stern look before tugging off his T-shirt. He pushed his workout shorts down, then said, “No more pussy footing, Hampton. This has been a long time coming, and you know it.”
She blinked innocently. “Well, I sort of thought this would happen with the contestants. Not with me.”
Donovan huffed, tossing his shorts. In just his boxer briefs, he tugged at his hair. “That’s what you’re not understanding. I don’t want to hook up with any of them.” He grabbed her chin between thumb and forefinger. “I just want you.”
Tenderness creased her face, but she jerked her gaze away. “Yeah. We did have pretty great sex.”
Frustration stormed him. It was more than just great sex. A whole lot more. But he wasn’t here to argue. Besides, he couldn’t badger her into being honest with herself.
But maybe he could seduce her into being honest with herself.
“You are sexy as hell,” he said in a low voice, running his thumb over her lower lip. Exactly the way he always imagined in his fantasies. “And even sexier now that you’re carrying my baby. Now let’s get freaky.”
“Wow, Donovan,” Melissa said, working on the buttons of her blouse. “That was inspired. You might as well have asked me to marry you.”
He laughed, rolling her shirt down over her shoulders, gobbling up the view of her breasts bursting out of the silken gray bra. “I’m good like that. Your boobs have grown.”
“Yeah. Apparently I’m pregnant. And they’re only going to get bigger.”
Donovan grunted, running his palm over the hard ridge jutting out from his boxer briefs. “All this pregnancy stuff turns me on, not gonna lie.”
She sent him a private grin. The type he could imagine receiving on their wedding day. Donovan, what in the actual hell are you thinking about?
“And that turns me on too, for some reason,” she said breathily, sidling out of her skirt
and panties before unhooking her bra. “Here I am. Nude and ready. Have your way with me.”
Donovan laughed, guiding her back onto the sectional. “I’d get you pregnant a second time if I could.”
“If any man can, it’s you,” she said, smoothing her palms over his chest. “God, I sorta missed this.”
“Don’t be afraid to admit it.” He nuzzled the hollow of her neck, eyes fluttering shut as he relished the unmistakable scent of her, something lemony and earthy. “I did too.”
Donovan skipped kisses down between her breasts, lavishing attention over each nipple before continuing downward to the swell of her belly. He paused there, looking up to catch her gaze. He pressed a lingering kiss there and then continued his journey downward. He ran his thumb along the crease of her pussy, knocking against the tight nub of her clit. She shivered.
“It’s so crazy our baby is in here somewhere,” he said, grazing his lips over the crease. She laughed throatily.
“Somewhere in there. You make it sound like a cavern.”
“Well,” he said, “it sorta is. A growing cavern. Filled with my baby.”
Melissa laughed, but the sound died quickly when he slipped his middle finger inside her, then a second one. He worked them in and out slowly, deep into the velvet heat and back out again, priming her for the grand finale. She writhed against him, moaning low, her eyes drifting shut.
“God, I love it when you’re inside me.”
“Mmm.” He pushed a third finger inside, his cock pulsing at the thought of filling her in other ways. “Me too.”
Donovan massaged her clit while he slowly, methodically, fingerfucked her. Melissa arched her back, face pinched in pleasure, and when he rolled his thumb against her clit again she cried out. Her pussy tightened around his fingers. A long sigh escaped her, and she melted back onto the couch.
“Damn,” he remarked, pressing a kiss to the top of her thigh. “That was faster than I expected.”
“Yeah, well, it’s been awhile.”
“Since the last time?” he asked.
“Since the last time.”
Donovan sat back, realization crashing through him. “Shit. I didn’t bring any condoms with me.” He met her gaze, question marks floating between them. “The closest ones are in my downstairs bathroom. I can go get one.”