by Kim Loraine
“You’ll see me tonight. I’ll be home by five.”
Home. Her home is with me. “Good. I have plans for you.”
“Oh, you do?”
“Yes. The kind that require no panties.”
Her hum of approval has me shifting in my seat. “That sounds promising.”
“It is. So you just keep that in mind for the rest of the day. In fact, I might just come by the shop and take your panties from you right now.”
Her laugh is loud and full. “No way. I’m keeping these on. I’ve got a surprise for you tonight too.”
That goes straight to my dick. “Fuck me, I think you’re some sort of expert in torture.”
“Might be.”
“Maybe we’ll have to make this a lunch meeting? I’ve got to pick Preston up from school or I’d come over there right now and we could lock your office door.”
“What happened with Preston? Is he sick?”
“No. The little shit pulled the fire alarm.”
Her shocked gasp has me laughing. “What? Why would he do that?”
“He wanted to see me. I swear, I don’t know what to do with that kid. I’m not his dad and I don’t want to be. I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility.”
“What kind?” Her voice is small, timid, and I wonder if I’ve upset her somehow.
“The dad kind. I’ll be there for him, as a brother.”
She makes a soft noise. “Well, he might see you as more than a brother. Did you ever think of that? You said it yourself, his dad left. Sometimes you have to fill a role for someone else even if it wasn’t what you planned.”
“You’re right. I’ve got to step up for those two.”
“I’ve got to go.” Her words are thick and strained, like she’s really bothered by something. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Sweetness?” I say, but she’s hung up before she hears me. Shit. I did make her upset. But how?
After I pick Preston up, I see her point. The kid looks at me like I hung the damn moon. It’s not his fault his dad is a deadbeat. His sandy blond hair is disheveled and he’s sporting a couple of pimples that betray his adolescence. “I’m sorry,” he says.
I don’t have it in me to be angry. Honestly, I’d have killed to have a big brother when I was a kid. “I know.”
“I won’t do something like that again.”
I nod. “I know.” I drive in silence, my gaze flicking to him every few minutes, then I pull over and turn to face him. “I’m sorry, too. I should’ve been more accessible. I’m just…well…I’ve been preoccupied with my girlfriend.” Girlfriend seems too normal a word to describe Clover.
His eyes go wide. “You have a girlfriend?”
I smile. “Yeah. Her name is Clover and she’s amazing. I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
“Really?” The kid is awestruck, it’s written all over his face. “Wow.”
“Wow is right.” I start the car again and pull into traffic. “You want to meet her?”
He nods and I make the turn that will take us to Clover’s book store. She might think we’re waiting until tonight, but I’m going to put a ring on her finger right the fuck now.
Chapter 13
Clover
I stare at the plastic stick in my hands. Two pink lines. Two. I’d suspected this to be the case for about a week, but now it’s staring me in the face and my boyfriend, the man I’m desperately in love with, the father of this little baby, says he doesn’t want to be a dad. Tears well in my eyes, threatening to spill down my cheeks. How did I get myself in this situation? Well, I know how. It’s just not fair. Sawyer has been perfect since we reunited, but now I’m terrified of what he’s going to say. I don’t want to trap him in a life with me just because I got knocked up. In reality, I want to be his forever, but this isn’t the way.
“Knock, knock.” Hazel, my most trusted employee pops her head in my office. “Are you ready to…” She trails off as her focus goes to the pregnancy test in my hand. “Oh, wow. I’m sorry. I’m interrupting.”
“No, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
She grins. “Are you?”
I nod, my hand resting instinctually over my lower belly.
“Congratulations?” she half asks, half states.
My chest is tight, throat even tighter. “Thanks,” I squeak out.
“Um, I guess this might not be the best time to ask you for time off?”
I take a long breath and try to compose myself. “I…how long do you need?”
“Two weeks?”
Honestly, the distraction she’s providing me is what I need. “When?”
“Starting next week. I know it’s short notice.”
It really is. But the look in her eyes says she’s desperate. “Let me check the schedule and see what I can do.”
She sends me a bright smile and turns on her heels. “Congratulations again, Clover.”
The door closes leaving me alone with my thoughts and the baby who already has a piece of my heart. How am I going to tell Sawyer? We haven’t been together long enough for a baby. I try to work, but my gaze continues to drift to the pregnancy test I placed on my desk. It’s there like a beacon announcing my womb’s occupancy. All I can think of is Sawyer’s statement of, “I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility.”
A knock on the door brings me back to the present.
Hazel peeks her head inside the doorway. “You’ve got a tall, broad-shouldered visitor.”
Oh no. Sawyer. “I don’t know if I’m available right now.”
Her brow creases. “Really?”
Tears make my eyes burn. “I…I can’t.”
“Okay. Don’t worry. I’ll send him away.”
I blink hard and fast, trying to will away the tears, but that just sends them careening down my cheeks and before I know it, a sob escapes. Hazel rushes out the door, but it’s not fast enough. Sawyer is there, concern on his handsome face.
“Clover, what’s wrong? Shit, sweetness, what happened?” He pushes inside my office and drags me to him.
The delicious scent of everything that is Sawyer hits me and a fresh wave of despair takes me. I bury my face in his chest and cry. I cry for the family I wanted us to have, for the love I’ll never stop having even after he leaves me, but most of all, I cry for the future I thought we had.
He stiffens against me, his shoulders and chest going rigid. “Sweetness, why the fuck is there a positive pregnancy test on your desk?”
Everything stops. My heart, my breath, time. Then in a rush it all returns. “I’m pregnant.”
I wait with my eyes closed, for him to ruin me. But he pulls me tighter, his fingers gripping my chin and gently turning my face up. Then his lips crash to mine in a kiss so surprising my knees buckle.
His hands cradle my face as he kisses me like his life depends on it. Then he backs away and stares down at me. “You’re pregnant?”
The joy in his eyes surprises me. I can’t speak, there’s too much emotion clogging my throat. Instead, I nod.
“Fuck. Really?” There’s no anger or disappointment in the question. He’s in awe. “We’re having a baby?”
I nod again, desperate to hold onto this moment. “I’m sorry.”
His brow furrows. “Sorry? What are you sorry for?”
“I know you don’t want to be a dad.”
He cups my face again and drops his forehead to mine. “I want everything with you. I came here to propose because I couldn’t wait another minute without asking you to share forever with me. Fuck, I even brought Preston with me because I didn’t have the patience to drop him off at home. Knowing you’ve got my baby growing inside you is more than I could’ve hoped for.”
“But you said…”
He shakes his head. “I was being a selfish idiot. I’m lucky Preston thinks as much of me as he does. The kid needs me and I’ll always be here for Preston and Carter—once the little shit realizes he needs me.” His palm rests on my belly. “
And I’ll be here for our baby every moment.”
Relief floods me. It’s been nothing but a rollercoaster of emotions since this morning. Then the gravity of everything he said hits me. “Wait, did you say you were coming to propose?”
Sawyer drops to one knee in my office, his hands shaking as he pulls a black velvet ring box out of his pocket. “Clover Danvers, I love you. I don’t need much in this life, but I do need you. Will you marry me?”
My whole body is trembling as his simple statement speaks to my soul. “Yes. Yes, of course.”
Hazel claps and cheers as Sawyer slips the most gorgeous engagement ring on my finger. Her eyes are shining with happy tears. When my fiancé stands up, I fall into his arms, kissing him fiercely and knowing there’s nowhere I’d rather be than in the arms of my rescuer.
Epilogue
Sawyer
Two years later
“Where’s mommy?” I ask my chubby cheeked daughter as she coos and smiles at me from her playpen. After a long shift, the only thing I want to do is snuggle with my girls, but Clover is nowhere to be found.
Poppy tosses a book at me and laughs when it hits the floor. Concern laces my veins. It’s not like Clover to leave Poppy unsupervised. Plucking my daughter from the pack-n-play, I give her a kiss and the two of us go searching for my wife.
Our home is a far cry from the sparsely decorated house I’d been living in when Clover came into my life. Now it’s decorated with Poppy’s toys, pictures from our Vegas wedding and our stay at The Millennium hotel. My brothers come stay often enough that they both have dedicated bedrooms and their own collection of stuff to add to the clutter. But I couldn’t ask for more in my life. My mom is healthy, my family is whole, and I’ve got the love of my life in my arms every night.
“Clo?” I call while Poppy tugs on my hair. “Where are you, sweetness?”
A soft groan floats through the bathroom door and alarm bells go off. “Don’t come in. I’m sick.”
Dropping a kiss on Poppy’s head, I make my way to her nursery and deposit her safely in her crib. “Stay there, baby girl. I’ll be back. Daddy’s got to check on Mommy.”
Poppy makes a few noises of protest, but is quickly distracted by the aquarium toy attached to the side of the crib.
I stride back to the bathroom and nudge open the door to find my wife on the bathroom floor in her nightgown and robe. She’s hugging the toilet. “What can I do?” I ask.
She waves me off. “It’ll pass. I’m already feeling better.”
“I’ll get you some ginger ale and crackers.”
Taking a deep breath, she nods and gets to her feet. “God, I haven’t felt this way since I was pregnant with Poppy.”
A curl of excitement takes hold in my gut. “Are you late?”
She frowns, counting on her fingers. “Oh. My. God.”
“You are, aren’t you?”
She doesn’t answer me but after washing her hands and brushing her teeth, she opens the medicine cabinet and digs around. When she produces a pregnancy test, my heart clenches. Are we ready for another baby? Just the thought of her belly, swollen with my baby, sends a jolt of arousal through me.
I leave the bathroom, letting her take the test in private as I gather some crackers and pour her a glass of ginger ale. I know what the test is going to say. We haven’t been careful and Poppy is the greatest thing we ever did. In truth, I want as many kids as she’ll have with me.
My wife comes around the corner and into the kitchen with a smile on her face. When she nestles against my chest and sighs, I know. We’re going to have another baby.
“Positive?” I ask.
“Yep.”
“Poppy’s going to be a great big sister.”
“She really is.”
I turn her in my arms and stare into the eyes that had me captivated from the moment I saw her. “I love you, sweetness.”
“I love you too.”
This woman is my everything. She’s given me so much more than I could’ve hoped for and now, she’s giving me another child. It may have started as a two-night stand, but Clover and I were destined for a life filled with love and laughter, naughty nights, dirty talk, and so much more. She’s my love song, the woman I’ll always dream of, and the one I’ll never let go. Clover is mine and I’m hers. Forever.
About the Author
Kim Loraine was raised a Navy brat but spent most of her life growing up in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. A proper Washingtonian, she's addicted to coffee, doesn't let a little rain ruin her day, and thinks the sun is a gift from God. When not chasing her three little minions around, Kim spends her time writing, reading, and binge watching Doctor Who.
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Sneak Peek
The Virgin’s Fake Fiance
Nothing’s better than a hot British guy…especially if he’s just asked you to be his fake fiancé.
The Virgins Series
The Virgin’s Fake Fiancé
Chapter 1
Charity
The driver pulls up to the hotel, and, I swear to God, my chest feels like it's going to explode with anxiety. Instead of getting out, I sit in the town car— the scent of stale cigarette smoke and leather seats making me mildly nauseous.
"Hey, lady. We're here. You can sit there all you want, but you gotta pay for it." My driver's strong New York accent reminds me I'm not in Montana anymore.
"Sorry," I mutter, rifling through my purse until I find my wallet. I grab a twenty and hand it to him, but he raises an eyebrow.
"I'm not a taxi driver. It's fifty from the airport."
Panic lances my chest. Fifty? I should've just taken a taxi. In a rush of anxiety, I start digging around in my bag, searching for more money. I know I have it, but there's nothing in my wallet.
"Come on, lady." He's annoyed, and I'm rushing.
"Hold this," I say, handing him my wallet and searching deeper in the handbag. Then I remember my suitcase in the back. I'd tucked an extra hundred in the secret inside pocket because I don't like to have all my cash in one place. "Can you make change? I have more cash in my bag."
He nods, and I get out of the car, making my way to the trunk to grab my suitcase. But the driver pulls back into traffic faster than I can holler, "Hey! Wait!"
I run after him, hoping he'll see me and slow down, but it's no use. He's lost in a sea of cars and busses, and it's all I can do to keep from screaming in frustration. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to calm down. I fight back the hot tears burning my eyes. I will not burst into hysterics on the streets of Manhattan.
It's not the end of the world. I can call the car company. Tell them what happened. Tell them the guy stole my suitcase. Panic rises again, but I push it down. No. It's going to be fine. I'm sure the guy will return my bag. What I need now is a shower to wash away this day.
The hotel lobby is bright and clean, with high ceilings and marble floors. Swanky is the word my dad would have used. He was a cowboy, through and through, and he never understood why I wanted to be in the city so badly. It's everything I love. The hum of life, people rushing from place to place, tourists exploring with excited expressions, movies and television shows being filmed. There's always something happening here. Montana is peaceful and slow. Perfect for some—not me. But that doesn't mean I get to stay here. I've got a dying farm waiting for me when I get back. Until then, I'm going to enjoy my time in the city.
"Welcome to The Stanton Hotel," the concierge says as I approach the desk. "Do you have a reservation?"
I smile, brushing my hair away from my face. I must look like a hot mess after chasing down the car. "I do. Charity Baker."
He offers me a patronizing smile and starts typing. "I'
ll need a photo ID and a credit card."
My hand goes to my purse immediately, digging through the large bag in search of my wallet. "One second, sorry. I just had it in the car."
I continue searching. Why do I have such an enormous handbag? Anxiety creeps up my spine when I still haven't found the candy pink Kate Spade wallet I'd bought myself three seasons ago as a graduation gift. I plop my bag on the counter, and the concierge frowns. "It's here somewhere." I laugh nervously and remember my utter stupidity in the car. I handed the guy my wallet. I handed him my wallet and as good as asked him to rob me. I'd been so concerned about my suitcase I forgot he had my wallet in his hand.
He doesn't look sympathetic. "Miss. I can't check you in without identification and a major credit card."
Oh, God. I think I'm going to cry. This guy doesn't look like the type who cares. Crying won't help my case. "I…the driver stole my wallet and suitcase. I don't…" My stupid voice wobbles with every word.
"Charlie, what's all this then?" A deep, masculine voice fills my ears, his posh English accent covering me like a warm blanket.
"Oh, Mr. Harper. Everything's fine. This young lady doesn't have her ID. I was just explaining that we can't—"
"What's your name, love?" Mr. Harper asks. He turns his gaze on me, deep blue eyes penetrating the last of my resolve. The man is gorgeous. He's probably in his early thirties, tall, built, with a chiseled jaw that would rival Superman.
"Wow," I whisper before I can stop myself.
His eyebrows rise, and a smile spreads his kissable mouth. "Pardon?"
Pulling it together, I clear my throat. "Charity. My name is Charity Baker, and I've had a reservation for months. My driver took my stuff. God, I was such an idiot to be so trusting. He drove off as soon as I got out."
"I see." He stares at me, that smile still present, but there's heat in his gaze. "Charlie, please check Miss Baker in. I'll cover her until she's able to retrieve her wallet. Charity, do you have the license plate number of the car? The company name?"