The Secret Baby

by Harper, Leddy

  Maybe that was why I heard it; I’d never know.

  A heavy sigh sliced through the deafening silence of night. Unlike relief, this one felt weighted with sadness. Defeat. It might have been a sigh, but it sounded more like a gust of wind slamming into a windowpane. Subtle yet devastating.

  I lifted my sights and stopped dead in my tracks, finding the bride-to-be leaning against one of the pillars that decorated the front of the building. She had her arms crossed, her shoulder pressed against the brick. Closed off. But I couldn’t ignore the way she stood there with her head dropped forward, attention glued to the sidewalk below her as if trying to blend in with her surroundings. There was a good chance she wanted to go unnoticed, remain invisible beneath the lights lining the fascia. However, it was impossible not to notice her. And there was no way in hell she’d ever be invisible.

  As I moved closer, her details became clearer. Beneath better lighting—unlike the blue hues inside—I could see more than just dark hair and eyes. I was able to notice the deep shade of red that veiled her face in long, loose curls. And when I came to a stop in front of her and she lifted her gaze to my face, I grew lost in the mixture of browns, greens, and golds that stared back at me.

  “Where are your friends?” I asked, glancing around, still not finding anyone even remotely familiar.

  “They decided to go to a real strip club.”

  “You didn’t want to go with them?”

  At first, she shrugged, but then she released another sigh and rested the side of her head against the pillar. “I decided to go home. Call it a night and go to sleep so I can put this all behind me.”

  My throat tightened as I contemplated the words to use, uncertainty nearly choking the life out of me. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I’m sure your fiancé would agree, too.”

  Wide eyes held mine; then her pink pout tipped into a grin I could only describe as flirtatious. “Oh, I’m not engaged.”

  I fingered the sash she still wore draped across her body, pinching the thin fabric while taking in the slow swells of her chest, as if each breath were a rolling wave on a creamy beach. “Then who’s the bachelorette?”

  “My best friend.” Her voice was so soft it reminded me of marshmallow puff, which didn’t seem to fit what I’d seen of her tonight. If anything, I would’ve imagined her as more of a marshmallow over an open flame, hot and dangerous yet deliciously addictive and satisfying. “She just found out she’s pregnant, so she had to cancel at the last minute. I guess she’s been sick and really tired lately.”

  I nodded with a hesitant step backward, still unsure of the situation and not wanting to get my hopes up. “Was this just practice for you? Or do you have experience being the guest of honor at a bachelorette party?”

  She glanced to the side, avoiding me. “Neither.”

  I was desperate for her to lift her gaze so I could navigate the uncertainties better. Right now, I felt like a blind man feeling my way through a desert in search of a drop of water.

  She shrugged again and, finally, raised her chin to meet my stare. “I guess a part of me wanted to know what it’d be like. I’ll never get married—never want to—so in a way, this was the closest I’ll ever get to experiencing it for myself.”

  “Then why not go to the strip club with your friends?”

  “Because . . .”

  Waiting for her to continue, I held my breath so long my breath turned stale in my lungs. Yet she never did. Instead, she dropped her chin again, wine-colored curtains shielding her face while she hid in the shadows. I had pegged her for a confident woman.

  It was amazing how destructive a single insecurity could be.

  “Listen, I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. If you think about it, I’m probably the safest person to open up to. I won’t judge you, and even if I do, who cares? The chances of us running into each other again are slim to none.”

  Wonderment shone back at me when she blinked up, and then a careful grin danced at the corners of her mouth. Like the idea of purging her secrets to a stranger had never crossed her mind, and now that it had, the promise of liberation excited her. “I kinda ran into an ex a couple of weeks ago.”

  Somehow, I’d had a feeling this had to do with an old flame.

  “No one has ever made me feel as worthless as he did when we broke up. Not only that, but he completely tainted the idea of marriage for me. So when my best friend couldn’t make it tonight, I thought it would be fun to pretend. I used to love playing dress up when I was little—I could be anyone I wanted. I guess the excitement of make-believe never went away, huh?” She covered her mouth with her fingertips, but they did nothing to conceal the innocent smile or silence the soft rush of laughter that drifted past her lips.

  “And what was it you were pretending tonight?”

  In an instant, she dropped her reservations like a magician dropped his cape. Her cheeks heated, her grin spreading wider, and her eyes bored into mine with the kind of gratification you’d see on the face of an Olympic gold medalist. “That he didn’t leave me. That, instead, I chose to leave him for a sexy doctor who adored me, who looked at me like I was the only woman in the room. I wanted to feel like I won instead of the other way around. That I was on the verge of spending the rest of my life with a handsome, rich, successful surgeon or something. I just wanted to pretend that my heart hadn’t been broken into such unsalvageable pieces that I’ll never be capable of love again.”

  Her pain furled in my chest until my ribs ached, threatening to shatter. And even though I should’ve been used to it by now, the idea that she wanted to pretend I was a surgeon splintered inside like shards of glass ripping me apart.

  At least it seemed we had one thing in common—the feeling of not being good enough.

  I wasn’t sure what compelled me to slip my arms through the sleeves of my coat and drape my tie around my neck. It could’ve been the need to give her what she wanted, to be the doctor with eyes only for her. In some twisted way, I believed doing that for her would help me, too. Or maybe I’d just gotten sick of never being seen. Fed up with always being told I wasn’t a real doctor just because the letters following my name were PhD, not MD. Tired of the knee-jerk assumptions that I was a loser, all because I’d chosen to stay at my parents’ house longer than most.

  Either way, the reason didn’t matter once I stood in front of her, wearing the costume we both needed. The tips of my loafers to the toes of her blue heels. Her hooded gaze drew me closer until I had my hands on her hips. And the instant she wrapped her arms around my neck, my mouth claimed hers.

  A brutal dominance I’d never experienced before came over me. I gripped her tighter and pulled her flush to my chest. Her lips parted on a gasp when my fingertips dug into the meaty cheeks of her ass, marking her. Marking this moment for both of us. And when our tongues met, literally everything else in the world disappeared.

  I broke the kiss to catch my breath and asked, “How are you getting home?”

  “Uber . . . I think. Amanda ordered it for me before they left.”

  “Well, if it doesn’t show up, I can drive you.” I pulled a few inches away from her face, needing to read her reaction. “If you want, of course.”

  “Why?”

  “Same reasons as you—to pretend. You don’t want to get married, but you want to know what it would be like if you did. I want to settle down someday, but I haven’t found anyone who can look past my job or living situation long enough to give me a chance. So it’s a win-win for both of us.”

  “Under one condition.” She waited until I nodded before adding, “No names. If we’re going to play make-believe, then we can’t ever see each other again. Which means no introductions, no chance at being able to look the other person up.”

  “Okay. Deal.”

  “And anything we say in the heat of the moment while deep in our roles can’t be taken seriously.”

  “So if I want to recite my vows to you with my tongue over your naked
body, I can?”

  “Please do.”

  Chapter 2

  Kelsey

  Some said tequila made their clothes fall off.

  Me? Tequila made me feel like I’d been run over by a train. Eighty-four times.

  Then again, I couldn’t blame every ache and pain on alcohol. The soreness between my legs and pinch in my thighs had been caused by the stripper—but after the tequila had made my clothes fall off. So in a way . . . Jose Cuervo was at fault for all the things that had happened last night.

  “You okay?” Tatum raised her dark brows, piercing me with those midnight eyes that made it impossible to see the pupils. They always freaked me out. Eyes shouldn’t be that dark. “You look . . . rough.”

  I cocked my head and quirked my top lip in that sarcastic, “you’re so funny” way. But even that nearly made me fall over. Damn hangover-induced vertigo. “Yeah. And in case you were wondering, you had a kick-ass bachelorette party. You’re welcome.”

  “Language,” Mom scolded from the patio through the open slider.

  “Seriously?” I narrowed my gaze on my best friend, who hadn’t moved away from the counter while she chopped vegetables for the salad. Leaning closer and lowering my voice, I added, “You curse all the time, and she never yells at you. Must be nice to be the golden child.”

  Tatum threw her head back and laughed . . . two things I physically couldn’t do at the moment, thanks to this ridiculous hangover. “No I don’t. Not here at least. And I’m not the golden child. That’s Jay. I just get the perks because I’m marrying him.”

  I rolled my eyes and waved her off on my way to the bar, where I perched myself on a stool and dropped my forehead to the granite.

  Someone came to sit next to me, but since the world had finally quit spinning for a few minutes, I didn’t want to see who it was. And once she began to talk—loudly, might I add—my question was answered. My sister, Marlena.

  “What the hell happened to you?” It might’ve been the remaining tequila that still swam in my bloodstream, but she sounded like she had her lips right next to my ear, yelling as if we sat twenty feet apart.

  I sat up straight—a little too quickly—and stared at the open slider. Then I waited. And I waited. And when nothing happened, I held my hand out, gesturing to the space between us in the kitchen and my mom on the patio. “Are you friggin’ kidding me right now?”

  “What?” Marlena asked, having no clue what I was talking about.

  “Mom literally just yelled at me for my language, and then you come in here, say hell, and she does nothing.”

  “Kelsey Peterson.” Again, the stern warning came from outside.

  Marlena and Tatum must’ve found that hysterical, because they couldn’t stop laughing. I halfway wondered if they’d ever come up for air with how red their faces turned. Finally, my sister cleared her throat and swiveled her stool to face me. “Your voice carries. Mine doesn’t.”

  “Whatever. You’re louder than a stampede of monkeys.”

  “Not sure how that makes sense, but okay.”

  My nose scrunched while I gave her the nastiest “eat shit” expression I could muster. “It makes loads of sense. At least it does to me. Right now. Next time you have too much to drink, I’ll make sure to tell you how little you make sense the following day.”

  “Oh yeah. Tatum’s bachelorette party . . . how was that?” Marlena eyed Tatum over the bar and furrowed her brows. “Why aren’t you hungover?”

  “She didn’t go.” I cringed when Tatum glared at me, knowing I’d have to explain without giving away her secret. “She, uh . . . ate something bad for dinner and had to cancel at the last minute. It was too late to get our money back for any of it, so we just carried on without her. You totally should’ve come.”

  “From the looks of you, I’d say I’m glad I didn’t. Really, though . . . how much did you drink?”

  “A shit ton.”

  “Young lady,” Mom said from the doorway, her glare pinning me in place. “How many times do I have to warn you about your language? Connor and Lizzie are here. I’m sure your sister and Nick wouldn’t appreciate it if their young children went home saying ass and hell and shit.”

  All the words literally vanished in that moment while I stared in awe at my mother.

  This was my life. I couldn’t make this shit up.

  “Noted.” I swung my gaze to Marlena and scowled. “A crap ton. Which should tell you just how much fun it was. But if it doesn’t, let me tell you. It was a blast. We had drinks and music and a male stripper that we didn’t have to share with anyone else.”

  “A stripper?” Her brow arched perfectly, only adding a slight wrinkle to her forehead—she was a damn fool if she thought anyone believed that she didn’t get regular Botox treatments. “Gee, Kelsey . . . I don’t know what to say. Am I supposed to be sad that I missed seeing a guy dance around in ass floss?”

  Again, I turned toward the door, noticing that my mother was no longer there. Not only that, but she conveniently didn’t hear Marlena’s “language.” I found that odd, considering she wasn’t the quietest person.

  I rolled my wrist, sweeping my hand close to her face. “It wasn’t . . . floss.”

  “Testie straps?” She just refused to give this up.

  Unfortunately, Tatum couldn’t resist chiming in. “Penis ribbon.”

  Their laughter made my head throb. Which only got worse the more they carried on. Marlena added, “Dick sling.”

  “Zucchini bikini.”

  Having enough, I decided to throw in my own. “Ball satchel.”

  Somehow, some way, I’d pissed the heavens off, because they were hell bent on making me suffer today. Just then, my mom slid into the kitchen and asked, “What’s a ball satchel? I might want one of those.”

  “Sure thing, Mom. I’ll get you one for Christmas.” Not a hint of a smile shadowed my mouth—I was that good at resting my bitch face during a moment of dry humor. “Any particular color, or would you like to be surprised?”

  Her bright smile almost had me breaking character. “Surprise me.”

  “You got it.” I shifted to face Tatum and waited until she lifted her gaze, catching me staring at her. Rather than aggravate my throbbing head even more by flicking my chin toward the hallway, I simply said, “Come. Let’s walk and talk for a moment.”

  One of the things I loved most about Tatum was the way she followed without asking questions. It made pulling her aside so much easier than having to explain everything in front of half my family. She was like a well-trained service animal.

  Jason must’ve been pleased.

  “So . . . I slept with the stripper,” I admitted once the door closed behind me.

  Tatum turned away from me, and with her head cocked, chin slightly angled up, she observed the bedroom that, at one point in time, used to be mine. “How come I’ve never been in this room before? It’s really nice. I love what your mom did with the curtains.”

  “His dick was the size of my leg.”

  Still, she seemed far more interested in the lamp on the nightstand than the words coming out of my mouth. The admission I’d offered. The hot, juicy details of my night.

  “He split me in half, and I had to go to the emergency room to get my vagina sewn back together.” When she continued to mutter inaudible things to herself, I grabbed her arm and shook her, forcing her to look at me. “Did you not listen to anything I said?”

  “I have to be honest, Kels . . . I stopped after you said you slept with the stripper.”

  “Why?”

  “I have a feeling I won’t be able to scrub the images from my brain with a wire brush through the ear. And with as weak as my stomach has been lately, thanks to the”—she leaned closer and lowered her voice—“vomit-inducing fetus inside me, the last thing I want to do is puke all over this really nice room.”

  There wasn’t much I could do but blink dramatically at her. How we’d ever become friends to begin with would remain a myst
ery. We were nothing alike. Nothing. All right . . . that wasn’t true. But still, I refused to admit to anyone how similar we were—no need to make myself look flighty.

  “Fine, I’ll skip the details. I just need my best friend right now.”

  Sympathy softened her features as she lowered herself to the edge of the mattress, pulling me down with her. “What happened? Are you okay? I’m sorry, Kelsey . . . I thought you just wanted to brag about getting laid.”

  “Oh, I did. It was amazing.” I ignored her eye roll and continued as if she hadn’t nonverbally dismissed me. “But that doesn’t negate the fact that he’s a stripper. He takes his clothes off for a living, Tater. Who knows how many other women he’s boned after a few dances.”

  “You used protection, right?”

  “Of course I did.” My head bobbed from side to side slowly while I contemplated her question, not at all caring that I’d already answered. “I think I did. I’m pretty sure he wore a condom.”

  “Pretty sure?”

  “I woke up with an empty wrapper stuck to my cheek. That’s about all the proof I have.”

  “Do you not remember if he put it on or not?” Her incredulous stare was almost too much to look at, so I dropped my gaze to the floor and shrugged. “Kelsey . . .”

  “Before you go all high and mighty on me, let me remind you that I was really drunk. The VIP suite had free liquor, and for the money I paid that place, I took full advantage of it. And I do remember stuff. Just not that part.”

  Her face scrunched, feigned disgust dripping from her lips. “I’m afraid to ask what all you remember.”

  “The good parts. Like the freaky things he did to me. He should become a gigolo. That’s a male prostitute, right?” I waved her off before she had a chance to answer. “Regardless of what it’s called, he was a god in the bedroom.”

  “That sounds amazing. Can I go now?”

  “He had all the right moves. Knew all the right places to touch and lick . . . and squeeze. And smack. And—”

  “Yeah . . . this has been fun.”

  At this point, I was enjoying this too much to stop. “Oh, and don’t get me started on the filth that came out of that man’s mouth.”