He shook his head, about to answer when an infant wailed a few tables over. Like baby detectives, they observed as the mother popped a pacifier into the infant’s mouth, and the child calmed instantly.
“We should order a few cases of those,” he said as the woman deftly strapped her little one into a stroller and left the shop.
“We could make it a recurring order, so they arrive every month without us having to think about it. Like what I did with the pineapple-scented dryer sheets.”
“No more lemon-verbena dryer sheets?” He’d grown quite attached to the smell.
She shook her head. “While I was waiting to have my blood drawn, I googled pineapple scent, and they popped up. I couldn’t help but order them. This pregnant body thing is so weird. Everything I used to like now sounds awful.”
He reached across the table and took her hand. “I think pineapple-scented dryer sheets are a great choice.”
She held his gaze. “You do?”
“Sure! Who wouldn’t want to smell like fruit cocktail all day?”
She chuckled, and her sweet laugh washed over him. After the craziness of their doctor’s appointment, it was good to see her relaxed.
“We do have one thing going for us on the baby front,” he offered.
Georgie leaned in. “What’s that?”
“You have a whole children’s section in your bookstore.”
Why hadn’t he thought of this earlier? Children of all ages attended story time at the bookshop. Parents and their little ones perused the picture books section, and Georgie was a whiz at recommending new series and popular children’s book authors to her customers.
His wife chewed her lip. “It’s one thing to read a book to a group of parents and their babies. It’s another to know what to do after the story ends.”
Dammit! Maybe she had a point. She was pregnancy book smart about children’s literature in the same way that he was pregnancy book smart with his knowledge of kinesiology.
He glanced at a young couple seated by the window, each staring at their phone.
“That’s it!” he said, snapping his fingers.
“What? Did they add more pineapple cheesecake to the display?” Georgie asked, craning her neck.
“No, not cheesecake—the internet! We can search the hell out of it. Anytime we need to know how to do something, we google it.”
Georgie beamed at him. “Okay, let’s try it.”
He pulled out his phone. “What topic?”
She drummed her fingers on the table. “Let’s look up how to soothe a crying baby. We already know a pacifier works, so we’re already ahead.”
Look at this! Barely a few hours in as expectant parents, and they were killing it. No, not killing it. Their main goal for the next eighteen years was to make sure this little pineapple peanut growing in Georgie’s belly remained very much alive. They were rocking it! That’s more like it! The internet, where they reigned as CityBeat’s sweethearts, would be their salvation.
“Let’s do this on three,” he said, adrenaline pumping.
Georgie held his gaze, her thumb hovering over her phone’s keyboard. “Is this a challenge?” she asked with a twinkle in her eyes.
From the Battle of the Blogs to their wedding wilderness boot camp, every facet of their relationship had hinged on some sort of challenge.
He bit back a grin. Why not this one? He could be creative.
“Why yes, it is, little lady. We’re in Colorado, the Wild West. This here is what you’d call a Western Wi-Fi showdown,” he answered, throwing in a little twang because he didn’t half-ass anything—not even this strangely erotic cowboy internet banter.
“I hope you came prepared, buckaroo. This isn’t my first time at the Western Wi-Fi rodeo,” she answered.
And God help him! This was damn hot! He made a mental note to suggest their next Western Wi-Fi search be for finding the location of the closest store selling cowgirl boots.
They’d never dipped their toe into adult role-play. He used to think the whole dress-up to rip each other’s clothes off made no sense, but he’d be on board with investing in some Western wear. Georgie in fire engine red boots and nothing else would be a sight to see. But it wasn’t only the crackle of excitement between them. They needed this tiny respite to remember who they were to each other. That thread that connected his heart to hers from the first moment they’d met.
They may have thought they’d despised each other—believed that the other was their complete opposite. But it was there from the start, that déjà vu meets serendipitous spark. That magnetic force, drawing them together, letting them know they’d make it through whatever challenges life threw their way.
“Three, two,” Georgie counted, then paused and gazed at him like he was a piece of pineapple cheesecake.
“Did they restock the pastry case?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. I’m picturing you as a cowboy,” she answered with a naughty smirk.
He shifted in his seat as his blood supply headed straight to his hard length.
He stroked his thumb across her knuckles. “I may have to find someplace private to have my way with the rancher’s daughter,” he replied, getting way too turned on by this conversation.
“The rancher’s daughter! That’s good,” she said in a low rasp, not helping calm the raging hard-on in his pants.
She licked her lips. “One.”
He stared at her delectable mouth. He’d already started in on his ravaging the rancher’s daughter fantasy.
“One what?”
“Remember, the countdown? The one about researching how to soothe a crying baby,” she replied with a sexy as hell purr.
Damn her powers of seduction!
“That’s right!” he exclaimed.
He went to work, typing in the search bar, then clicked on an interesting result.
Georgie held out her phone. “This website says, let them cry. They’ll learn to self-soothe.”
He skimmed his article. “The one I clicked on says you’re not supposed to do that. Crying is a child’s way of expressing distress. Leaving them to cry it out could be traumatizing.”
Georgie glanced at her phone with a creased brow. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” he said, not at all pleased with the internet. “This has to be an anomaly. We’ll figure out which one is right later.”
He checked his watch, then stole a glance at his worried wife. He needed to shift the mood.
“We still have twelve minutes before our meeting. Could the lonely rancher’s daughter use a little cowboy comfort?”
The uneasiness drained from her face, and her seductive smirk returned.
She looked around the coffee shop. “Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a haystack for miles.”
He could do better than a haystack.
“Come on. I have an idea.”
He took her hand as they left the coffee shop and headed toward the CityBeat building. While they were on their honeymoon, Bobby and Hector had messaged him with pics of their new workspace. The men had decided to renovate a bank of unused offices. And that meant an empty room for them to act out whatever fantasy they wanted in ten minutes or less.
They breezed into the CityBeat building. He waved to security, then guided his wife into an elevator. There was no need for them to provide ID. Their images were plastered all over the lobby.
Some days, it didn’t hurt to be quasi-famous.
“You seem quite determined,” Georgie said, eyeing him carefully.
“It happens to be your lucky day, ma’am. When I was out corralling the cattle, I came upon a secret spot.”
Look at him, talking the talk!
“Did you now?” she asked, gazing up at him through her lashes.
The elevator pinged their arrival.
“Are we going to Bobby and Hector’s new office?” Georgie asked as they headed down the hall.
“Yep.”
“The still empty offices?” sh
e probed—in a very non-medical way.
“That’s right,” he twanged.
“You are one clever cowboy, Jordan Marks.”
He tipped a pretend hat. “I aim to please, ma’am.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for,” she replied with that damn sexy rasp.
They were cleared for sex by a medical professional, and he’d be ordering her a complete cowgirl ensemble and himself a pair of chaps and a Stetson hat when he got back to his laptop.
He opened the door to the newly renovated office and flicked on the light, revealing a sprawling high-tech room with monitors fixed to the walls and modern furniture.
And toys!
Bobby and Hector’s old office was jam-packed with recreational items sure to spark creativity. And this office took that sentiment to the next level. A ping-pong table sat in the center of a cluster of old Arcade games with a trio of Skee-Ball alleys, a mini putting green, and a trampoline built into the floor.
But they weren’t here to master Ms. Pac-Man or to work on their table tennis serve.
Nope, he’d remembered seeing one very suitable item in the photos Hector had sent, sure to complement their carnal cowboy reenactment.
On the far side of the room, roped off like a main attraction, sat the perfect item for a randy ranch gal.
“Is that what I think it is?” Georgie asked, wide-eyed.
“How are your bull wrangling skills, little lady?”
Seductively, she ran her index finger down the length of his torso. “We’ll have to find out.”
She dropped her purse onto the ground and sauntered over to a giant mechanical bull. He locked the door to the office, then turned to find Georgie sitting atop the headless beast.
She undid a button on her blouse, revealing the hint of her sexy bra. “You know what they say. Save a bull. Ride a cowboy.”
“I think you mean, save a horse, ride a cowboy, little lady,” he countered as his gaze raked over her body.
“I’m not allowed to ride a horse and probably not a bull either. So, that leaves me with one alternative.”
“Good thing there’s an available cowboy in the building,” he replied with a low twang.
He climbed onto the mechanical torso, facing his wife, and guided her body onto his lap. She straddled him and wrapped her arms around his neck as he palmed the globes of her ass. This never got old. Everything about Georgie, from her petite frame to the glint in her mischievous eyes, set him ablaze with desire.
With their lives balanced on the precipice of change, they needed to lose themselves in each other—if only for a few minutes, and then they’d worry about what to tell everyone at CityBeat.
He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
“It’s too bad we can’t turn it on,” she said on a sexy sigh.
“I don’t think we’ll need to,” he answered, rocking his hips.
His wife moaned as his hard length strained through his pants. He set a slow, delicious pace as the friction between them intensified. Georgie parted her lips on another breathy sigh, and he captured her mouth in a slow, sensual kiss.
He wanted her, but the drive to take her hard and fast had morphed into something deeper. Passion burned within him, but his need had taken on a protective edge. Her body didn’t only belong to him anymore. His wife was as sassy, smart, and as tough as they came, but she was also with child.
“We’re getting one of these for the house,” she said, grinding into him.
“It feels okay? Nothing hurts?” he asked. He had to check.
She twisted her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “Jordan, two days ago, I rode you like the dirtiest rancher’s daughter in all of Fiji. I don’t think that much has changed with my body in forty-eight hours.”
A fresh surge of lust tore through him. “We didn’t even make it out of the bungalow that day.”
“Let’s see if you can put this bronco to shame, buckaroo,” she teased.
Hot cowboy sex on a stationary mechanical bull? Yeehaw, hell yes!
He dialed up his pace, rocking his hips while he held her close.
“Let’s lose the pants, cowgirl,” he groaned, his cock weeping with the need to meet her sweet center.
“That’ll be tricky in a romper, but I’m keen to see you crazy kids try and pull it off,” came a voice that didn’t belong to his wife.
They stilled, then glanced down at the mechanical bull. This thing didn’t talk, did it?
“Who is that?” Georgie asked.
“Not the headless bull,” came the amused voice.
He shared a look with his wife, who’s expression screamed extreme mortification.
“Welcome home, newlyweds! It’s Bobby and me,” Hector said, his voice booming.
“Where are you guys?” Georgie asked, looking around.
“We’re right next door,” Bobby answered.
Georgie frowned, still searching for the location of the speakers. “How’d you know we were in here?”
“You tripped a motion sensor and security started monitoring. They called to let us know two sexual deviants had broken into the new office,” Hector replied as if getting the call regarding sexual deviants had broken into the building was cause for celebration.
“Sexual deviants?” Georgie echoed.
“You are making out on a mechanical bull. Very Urban Cowboy of you,” Hector answered.
Georgie’s cheeks flushed a deep pink. “You can see us? Like totally see us?”
“Of course! We’re an internet tech company. We have cameras everywhere,” Bobby answered.
Jordan frowned. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“It couldn’t go that far. Georgie’s in a romper. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a gorgeous garment, but I just read one of our fashion blogger’s post about it being the equivalent of a naughty no-no if you’re hoping to knock out a quickie. Did your mother send it to you?” Hector finished.
Georgie dropped her head to rest on his shoulder. “This cannot be happening.”
“At least it’s only Hector and Bobby,” he said, running his hand down her back.
“No, it’s the entire CityBeat PR and Marketing team,” Hector corrected.
Georgie gasped. “All of you are watching us?”
“Like I said, we wanted to see how you handled the romper situation,” Hector answered.
“I had five bucks on you, Jordan,” came another voice.
“Barry? Is that you?” he asked.
“Yeah! It’s good to see you guys. How was Fiji?” the man replied jovially, as if there was nothing weird about engaging in high-tech peeping Tom-ery.
“Hold on! What do you mean you had five bucks on Jordan?” Georgie asked with an incensed crinkle to her brow.
“No offense, Georgie. I figured he’d use his super strength and rip your romper,” Barry replied.
Georgie gasped. “Rip my romper!”
“You guys had a whole sexy Western vibe going. I said Jordan would go all macho cowboy, but the Belgian Waffle Princess said you’d put the kibosh on that,” Barry added with a hint of trepidation.
“Where did the Belgian Waffle Princess come from? I thought she was in Belgium,” Georgie replied as this conversation went from weird to Bonkersville.
Throughout their stint as CityBeat contributors, they’d interacted with a few of the other CityBeat bloggers. While they’d never met the Belgian Waffle Princess blogger, she’d always sent them kind messages.
Barry cleared his throat. “No, she’s in Sheboygan, Wisconsin. She only blogs about Belgian waffles. We were having a video conference with her when the alarm tripped,” Barry added.
Romper ripping bets and a Sheboygan Waffle Princess?
This crazy train had gone far enough.
“Okay, everyone,” he said, addressing the empty room. “The romper is intact. Barry, you owe the princess five bucks. Do you want us to come to you, or do you guys want to join us in here?”
An elect
ric hum cut through the room.
“What is that?” Georgie asked, looking from side to side.
“Surprise, surprise!” Hector crooned as the far wall retracted, exposing a crowd of CityBeat employees.
Jordan slid off the bull, then helped Georgie down.
“You put in a moving wall?” she exclaimed.
“Electric retractable dividers! Aren’t they fabulous?” Hector added with a charismatic wave of his hands.
“My husband decided that instead of moving offices, we double the size of our workspace and use both,” Bobby said with a hint of amusement.
Hector rubbed his hands together like a flamboyant mad scientist. “We also needed more room for the bull. Do you want me to turn it on? We can test if a romper holds up to ten seconds on Tank.”
“Tank?” Georgie repeated, her complexion growing pale.
“Hector named the bull,” Bobby answered.
Hector clapped the ass of the mechanical beast. “Then, after the romper research, we can share all the amazing things we want to have you lovebirds involved with to promote the More Than Just a Number blog and brand. Colorado loves you two, and our team has big ideas about incorporating a whole explore the great outdoors angle. What are your thoughts on free-climbing and paragliding?” Hector added with a wicked glint in his eyes.
Oh shit! This was not good.
Georgie’s gaze bounced from Hector to the bull. “Could Jordan and I have a word with you and Bobby, privately?”
He looked at his wife. Thanks to the naughty cowboy ravages the rancher’s daughter role-play, they hadn’t played out what they’d wanted to accomplish in this meeting.
Was she about to drop the pregnancy bomb?
What impact would that have on their standing with CityBeat?
Would they have to hit the pause button?
There was no way in hell he was about to watch his pregnant wife strap into a glider and swoop off a cliff or dangle from a rope thousands of feet above the ground.
He took Georgie’s hand, looked from Hector to Bobby, then held his wife’s gaze.
The moment of truth had arrived.
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Own the Eights Maybe Baby Page 6