Decidedly With Baby (By the Bay Book 2)

by Stina Lindenblatt

  And because my stupid hormonal thoughts weren’t enough, stupid hormonal tears joined the pity party for two.

  Needing to hear Kelsey’s sweet and friendly voice, I accepted the call. “G’day.”

  “How did it go?” she asked, and I knew instantly what she was talking about.

  “I’m one-hundred-percent-sperm-meets-egg-and-wham-your-life-is-forever-changed pregnant.” I opened the fridge door and removed the container of skim milk.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “You mean in general or about the news?”

  “Both.”

  “Well, my breasts are achy and swollen. I’m still dealing with nausea, but my doctor said that should go away soon. And I’m tired. But I did get to hear the baby’s heartbeat.”

  “You did? And?”

  I got a glass from the cupboard. “And…I’m definitely keeping Junior.”

  There might be have been a muffled shriek of excitement from Kelsey’s end, but I couldn’t be sure.

  “You want some company?” she asked. “I could come over and we can watch a movie. Your choice?”

  Did I wish to talk about what happened in the bookstore? Hell, no. Did I want to be alone to dwell on it? Double hell no—with an order of fries.

  “That would be great,” I said.

  While I waited for Kelsey, I flipped through a pregnancy book. I was just reading about how I could expect my sex drive to rev up over the next few months (great news given that I was single) when the doorbell rang. I answered it and let Kelsey in.

  “So what will it be?” she asked, holding up two containers of ice cream.

  There was a reason I loved Kelsey. It was like she could read my mind.

  Except for the part about the fries. But that was okay—no one was perfect.

  After searching through Netflix, we settled on an animated movie that looked promising. First—it wouldn’t have swearing in it, so it was Junior friendly. Second—there was absolutely no romance. Bigger bonus.

  We settled down to watch it. Not once did Kelsey push me to talk about the unexpected pregnancy. Nor did she try to pry the father’s name from me. She knew I would tell her when I was ready…if I was ever ready.

  You see, here lay the dilemma. Josh was Trent’s best friend. Kelsey was my best friend. Trent was the love of Kelsey’s life. Done the math yet? Kelsey would be the one caught in the middle when it came to her loyalties—and I didn’t want to put her in that position.

  So, zipped lips it was.

  Halfway through the movie, I had to pee. Badly. “You’d think for something so small,” I said, referring to Junior, “I wouldn’t need to go that often.” We were both familiar with Erin’s frequent trips to the loo.

  Kelsey laughed. “You might as well get used to it.”

  While doing my business in the bathroom, I thought I heard the buzzer for the front entrance to the apartment building, but I wasn’t positive. Since I wasn’t expecting anyone, I refused to worry about it. Worrying wasn’t good for Junior. Emptying my bladder was infinitely more important.

  But once I stepped back into the living room, my resolve stumbled at the sight of the blond hockey player standing there. Josh.

  “He said it’s important,” Kelsey said, looking between us.

  Let’s take a moment to recap what Kelsey didn’t know. One—she didn’t know that Josh had already been in my apartment previously. Two—she didn’t know that Josh and I had had sex. And three—she and Trent didn’t know that Josh had come to Australia with me. He and I had figured it was better that way.

  No, this wasn’t awkward at all.

  Then a sudden understanding swept onto her face.

  And the awkwardness factor tripled.

  Fuck me dead!

  “I should probably go,” she said, “unless you want me to stay.” The last part was directed at me.

  “No, it’s okay.”

  I walked her to the door and she hugged me. “Do you need me to get Trent to whip his ass?” she asked. “You know he would do it in a heartbeat.”

  Despite the nervousness wrapping around me like a Maypole dancer, I chuckled. “Arse whipping won’t be necessary.”

  I closed the door after her and stood there for a moment, my back against it, eyes shut.

  Was it really too much to hope for that when I reopened them, everything would be back to how it was three months ago? That I wasn’t pregnant and wouldn’t have to face Josh about our current dilemma?

  With a hard breath, I pushed away from the door and joined Josh in the living room. He was skimming through the What To Expect book. Naturally, my heart took this the wrong way and squeezed hopefully. I blamed the pregnancy hormones for that. They really were annoying little buggers.

  Josh glanced up. I knew I should say something, but I wasn’t sure what else to say. If this situation was covered in What To Expect, I hadn’t found that chapter yet. “Just so you know, I hadn’t planned to get pregnant. I just wanted a good fuck to help me deal with Nanna’s death.” And to help me deal with my mum.

  Wasn’t irony just a bitch?

  “I know it was an accident. And I’m pretty sure if I remember my biology class correctly, it takes two to make a baby. You didn’t take advantage of me, Holly. I was as much a willing participant as you were.”

  Relief rushed through me that at least he didn’t blame me.

  “So what’s the plan?” he asked.

  “I’m keeping the baby.” The words came out easier than expected.

  “I kinda figured as much.” His mouth slid into my favorite, teasing smirk. “The pregnancy and baby books gave it away.”

  I smiled, the movement small, but then the smile faded as I stared at the face of my new reality. And no, I didn’t mean Josh. “I know you don’t want children. Your hockey career comes first. So if you wish to walk away from this, I’m all right with that. I’m giving you the choice.”

  If my life were a romance novel, this was the part where Josh would sweep me off my feet and tell me he could never walk away. That he wanted his baby and me to be a major part of his life—and always would.

  Of course, if my life were more like a Stephen King novel, a scary clown would crash through the door and drag Josh down a sewage pipe—leaving Junior without a father.

  At least that would be easier to explain to our child. It wasn’t that your daddy didn’t want to be your daddy. It was totally the clown’s fault.

  If that didn’t cause a fear of clowns, I didn’t know what would.

  Josh frowned. “News flash, Holly. I’m not my fucking father. Yes, neither of us planned this, but I’m not walking away. I plan to be there for you and the baby as much as you’ll let me.”

  Okay, not quite the first option—but at least the scary clown kept away.

  Did you notice what he didn’t say?

  That’s right. There was no romantic gesture. Our goal was to keep our relationship uncomplicated. Well, as uncomplicated as you could get when you were having a baby.

  He picked up the yoga DVD. “What’s this?”

  “Yoga for pregnancy. I thought it might be beneficial for the baby.”

  Josh glanced around the room. “How ’bout we start now?”

  “Start what?”

  “Yoga. The Rock goalies swear by it, and you’ve seen how fucking flexible they are. It wouldn’t hurt me to do it with you.” He moved the coffee table against the wall to give us some more space.

  “But we don’t have any yoga mats.”

  “I’m sure we can go without this time. I’ll pick some up before tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “If there’s one thing training for hockey has taught me, it’s important to schedule your workouts.”

  Now it was my turn to smirk. Josh wasn’t known for scheduling anything. He was a spur-of-the-moment type guy.

  The only exception? Hockey—naturally.

  “All right,” I said. “Yoga it is.”

  The ache between my
legs sat up and rejoiced—having been on a hiatus for the past month. I blamed the morning sickness and exhaustion for that.

  Not to be a party pooper, I reminded it, but we’re doing yoga, not having sex. Clearly it had forgotten my no-sex rule when it came to Josh.

  The ache rubbed its hands together and murmured, “We’ll see about that.”

  Oh, boy.

  14

  Holly

  Josh showed up the following evening with two yoga mats. Purple for me. Blue for him. I was wearing a pair of yoga pants, which weren’t as loose at the waist as they used to be. My tank top was also starting to feel a little tight, especially across my chest.

  What was Josh wearing? Basketball shorts and a team T-shirt. The soft navy fabric stretched across his chest and taut muscles—and the perma-ache between my legs let out a dreamy sigh.

  Now, you were probably wondering how things went last night when it came to our first yoga session together. Don’t worry, I was strong. The no-sex rule remained firm…much to the ache’s dismay. Which was why I suspected it was about to play dirty.

  It didn’t help that I wanted to suddenly forget yoga and screw Josh instead. Maybe if we did it on the yoga mats, it counted as prenatal yoga.

  No. No. No. Remember, we have the no-sex rule for a reason. We can’t let the pregnancy hormones win.

  Naturally, the ache between my legs didn’t give a damn about that as it let out its war cry.

  Which was another way of saying I moaned—even though Josh wasn’t touching me.

  We unrolled our mats in front of the big screen TV. I turned it on and hit play on the DVD player.

  Those years of dance Mum had insisted on? They’d left me with a natural grace, flexibility, and balance that transferred to yoga. And judging from how well Josh was doing standing on one leg, his opposite foot pressed against his inner thigh, Junior would definitely be gifted with great balance.

  “Now we’re going to do the Downward-Facing Dog,” the pregnant woman on the TV screen said. We had already been through several poses—my hormones being on their best behavior. Which was saying a lot when Josh’s amazing man-scent and pheromones were doing all kinds of crazy things to my willpower.

  I can be strong. I’m not going to lust over Josh…and his amazing body…and all those mouthwatering things said body can do to mine.

  Inwardly, I glared at my noncooperative body, which had clearly taken over parts of my brain.

  The woman explained what she was doing as she got into position.

  I followed her lead, my feet and hands on the floor, elbows and knees straight, butt in the air.

  “From where I’m standing,” Josh said behind me, “that looks goddamn sexy.”

  I let out a huffed laugh. “Glad you approve.” Still in position, I looked at him from between my legs, but only his legs and the part of him that had gotten us into this predicament were visible. It was hidden in his shorts but was definitely more noticeable than before.

  The image of Josh taking me from behind flashed in my head, and just like that, I was suddenly very wet for him. Very wet and very achy. Dammit.

  I let out another small moan, which was easily passed off as a yoga-related noise. “Are you just planning to watch my arse?” I asked, “Or are you getting into position?” I almost groaned out loud at the image replaying in my head—of Josh getting into position…behind me, then inside me.

  My legs trembled in anticipation. Hell, my whole body trembled.

  “Isn’t yoga supposed to be relaxing?” he asked, laughter in his voice.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, watching your ass in the air like that is very relaxing.” He stepped closer and settled his large, strong hands on my hips. Heat from his palms sank through the cotton of my yoga pants and made a beeline to the eager ache.

  “You’re not playing fair,” I groaned and dropped to my knees, the pregnant woman on the TV long since forgotten.

  “How am I not playing fair?” The laughter was still in his voice, mocking me with its deep, sinful sound. Every girlie part was now ripe with lust—and cheering me on to give into my horny hormonal needs.

  I didn’t bother to answer him. I clambered to my feet, wrapped my hand behind his neck, and pulled his head down to mine. Then my mouth was on his.

  Yes, I was weak. After this, I would buy a T-shirt declaring it. But for now, the only thing that mattered was that I got laid.

  Our tongues became reacquainted, sliding, tasting, teasing each other. Unconsciously, I ground my hips against his, rubbing my belly against his hardening length.

  Now it was Josh’s turn to groan, but not in a What-the-hell-am-I-doing? kind of way. He definitely wanted this as much as I did.

  Unable to wait any longer, I scrunched the hem of his T-shirt up his abs and chest, craving his naked skin against mine.

  Clearly hungry for the same thing as I, he yanked the offending fabric over his head and tossed it to the floor. A much more suitable spot for it anyway. My tank top joined it a second later—as did my sports bra.

  “They’re bigger than last time,” he said with a goofy grin and palmed my breasts. “Yep, definitely bigger.” He traced a nipple with his thumb, and I almost came at the heated sensation rocketing through me.

  “Oh, God,” I groaned.

  Did the old man in the apartment beneath mine just hear that? Crap. Now I was providing free porn to seniors.

  Josh took my nipple into his mouth. Because I didn’t wish to be rated as better than pay per view, I bit my lip to keep from crying out again. I succeeded. Barely.

  I ran my fingers through his hair and lightly tugged the soft, dark blond strands. He growled. The nipple in his mouth ached deliciously at the sensation, while everything below my waist begged for his attention.

  My free hand slid between my legs and I cupped myself.

  Josh smiled against my breast and popped the nipple from his mouth. It instantly missed his lavish attention. If it could scowl at him, it would have.

  “Impatient, are we?” he asked.

  I huffed a reply.

  He smiled that sinfully wicked grin of his that always turned me on. Surprised that I could be even more turned on? That would make two of us.

  “I guess I’ll have to do something about that,” he said. “Is it true what they say about pregnant women?”

  “What’s that?” My finger accidentally (or maybe not so accidentally) brushed against my clit, buried under my panties and yoga pants. I gasped.

  “That pregnancy makes you hornier.”

  “I might have read that somewhere,” I murmured against his lips.

  “I have a feeling I’m going to like this part about you being pregnant.” His voice was a warm brush against my mouth.

  “I figured you’d say that. Now can you do something about my problem?”

  “What problem is that?”

  “The one where I’m incredibly horny and desperately need some relief.” I placed my hand against his hard cock. He hissed under his breath. “And from the feel of you, I’m not the only one who needs relief.”

  He laughed, the sound deep and husky. “What about the yoga?”

  “I’m sure I can survive one day without it.” Heck, I could survive the entire pregnancy without it, as long as I had sex several times a day.

  Good luck with that, a voice said, cracking up. Sure, if Josh and I were living together, I’d have sex pretty much whenever I craved it—as long as he was around.

  Josh’s fingers slipped under the waistband of my yoga pants, distracting me from my thoughts. I ground my ache against his hand. What? You figured I could wait for him to stroke me where I needed it? Not bloody likely.

  Eager for more skin-on-skin contact, I slipped my hand under the waistband of Josh’s shorts. Josh groaned—apparently I wasn’t the only one planning to entertain the elderly man downstairs with free porn.

  “Like that, huh?” I asked Josh.

  “You can’t even begin to imagine,”
he said with a chuckle.

  Impatient to get to the good stuff, I peeled Josh’s shorts and briefs down his legs. His length sprang free, proud and willing. I flung his clothes across the room, hitting the closed blinds with them. The white plastic crunched on impact. Oops.

  “Fair is fair,” he said, eyeing me like I was a ten-course meal created completely from chocolate. He stepped away from me and sat in the middle of the couch. “Now, strip!” His voice was smooth, deep, every inch a seducer.

  “Ooh, I think I like you like this, Mr. Bossy.” I winked, and with a sly smile, slowly shimmied out of my yoga pants. The only thing I had left on was my forest-green thong. My long auburn hair played peek-a-boo with my nipples.

  I kicked the pants to the side and did a little dance, knees together, hips swaying side to side. Keeping my knees together, I sat back as if sitting on a chair made of air.

  Did you see that? Josh practically drooling?

  What guy didn’t want his girl to pole dance?

  Yeah, I know. I didn’t have a pole in my living room (or anywhere else in my apartment), and I wasn’t Josh’s girl—but that didn’t stop me from having fun.

  I pushed myself up to stand. Who knew all those years of dance would be so useful? Although I was sure Mum would have a heart attack if she found out she had spent all that money so I could striptease for my fake fiancé.

  Still in erotic dancer mode, I slowly traced my fingertips up my abs and palmed my breasts. Josh licked his lips, and a subtle thrill trembled through me at the power I had over him.

  I lifted my arms in the air, moving to the slow jazz song in my head. I turned around, then stuck my arse out and wiggled it for Josh’s entertainment.

  He groaned.

  I grinned.

  But when you were pregnant and horny, there was only so much you could take before you went up in flames. I hooked my fingers under the waistband of the thong and peeled the material down my legs, still giving Josh a view of my backside.

  I could practically hear him pant.

  I swiveled back to him and sashayed my way over to where he was sitting. He was still on the couch, lounging back, legs spread, his cock harder than when he had sat down. The man wouldn’t be lasting much longer either.