by Quinn, Taryn
Wrong Bed Baby
Crescent Cove Book 10
Taryn Quinn
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Wrong Bed Baby
© 2021 Taryn Quinn
Rainbow Rage Publishing
Cover by LateNite Designs
Photograph by Lindee Robinson Photography
Models: Mairi Van Dyke & Brian Boynton
All Rights Are Reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First ebook edition: April 2021
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My new neighbor is sinfully delicious. He’s also an elementary school teacher who flirts with absolutely everyone.
I flirt back—all very casually—until the night he accidentally ends up in my bed. And since I’m very in tune with the universe, I can’t look a gift di...ah, horse in the mouth, right?
Caleb’s hot as heck, and he’s not all talk when it comes to his seductive charm. Let’s just say rulers have nothing on him.
Cough, cough, wink.
Then I start craving pickle-flavored ice cream. With peanut butter sauce and a cherry on top.
Only problem is Caleb isn’t looking for a family or forever. Or so he thought...
Author’s note: This daddy-to-be is about to learn a few things from the one woman who will give back everything he dishes out times three. Wrong Bed Baby is a standalone accidental pregnancy romantic comedy with a happily-ever-after ending and no cliffhanger.
Contents
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
His Temporary Assistant
Crescent Cove World
Crescent Cove
Kensington Square
Taryn Quinn
Quinn and Elliott
About Taryn Quinn
Acknowledgments
As authors we’ve thrown ourselves into research when it comes to certain topics—tarot being the newest one. As well as some of the practices surrounding other religions. Any mistakes we made were our own. We also live by the code of do no harm. Forgive us if we got anything wrong.
Sometimes we make up fictional places that end up having the same names as actual places. These are our fictional interpretations only. Please grant us leeway if our creative vision isn't true to reality.
I can’t go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.
Alice in Wonderland
One
Moving sucked.
Moving because your bachelor pad for half a decade was being torn down by Gavin Forrester, the hotshot big time developer in town who wanted to build more condos, really sucked.
But getting a hefty payment to help compensate for the inconvenience of moving helped ease the pain. Slightly.
“You gonna get a move on or just keep staring into the back of this SUV like it holds the answers to good sex?”
I didn’t even glance at my best friend Lucky. I knew he’d be looming over the back of my vehicle to show off his biceps to maximum advantage, just in case any ladies happened to wander by.
“I know the answer to that,” I muttered. “And it involves me and a glass of merlot.”
“That’s how you warm yourself up? You sound like a chick, but hey, do what works for you, man.”
I had to laugh. “Shut the hell up, Roberts, and grab the other end of this hutch.”
He elbowed me out of the way. “You might prefer group activities, but I can handle this one on my own, son.” He hefted up the handcrafted oak piece built by my older brother August with a grunt.
The sound made me grin as I stepped back and waved him toward the propped open door to my apartment building. “By all means. I’ll just stand here and cool off with a refreshing beverage.” I popped open the cooler and grabbed a can of lemonade before flipping open the top. “Ahh. Tastes good,” I said as I took an exaggerated swallow.
In a truly spectacular feat, Lucky managed to flip me off before hauling the hutch toward the open door.
Music suddenly spilled out, loud and unrepentant. It wasn’t something you’d hear on the local station either. This was a sinuous, exotic beat, the kind that brought to mind warm breezes, a gorgeous sunset, and an even more gorgeous woman belly-dancing with a colorful snake wrapped around her upper torso.
I took another drink. Or maybe that was just me.
Lucky didn’t seem to pay it any mind as he barreled through the doorway and headed up the stairs with his latest bulky item of furniture.
I turned toward the back of the SUV to take stock of what was left. In short, it was a lot.
This wasn’t the first trip I’d made over here, but we were in early innings. My new apartment was still mostly a barren wasteland. I’d skipped hiring a moving company, considering I hadn’t had far to go and could call on a number of fit dudes like myself to help out.
Oddly enough, most of them had become suddenly unreachable despite knowing for weeks the days I’d planned to move. August would be over later after work, but I couldn’t count on any of the rest of the slugs I knew. As if wives and children and gainful employment could keep them that busy.
Whatever.
Lucky, however, used any attempt to show off and looked at carrying heavy furniture as the best opportunity going. So far, his plan had not borne much fruit, although a couple of the gooey-eyed young baristas at Macy’s coffee shop had come out a few times to offer us refreshments. Lucky hadn’t been too keen on any of them, since most of those girls were barely legal.
He had some standards. Not a lot, mind you, but some.
He jogged up beside me as I was dragging out the small bookcase that doubled as a nightstand in my bedroom. “Dude, there’s some kind of chick party in there, and I think they’re stripping.”
I snorted and set my bookcase on the pavement. “I think heat stroke has finally warped your brain.” I swiped my forearm over my sweaty forehead and grabbed for my already sweating can of lemonade. “It has to be ninety out here.”
“Ninety-five,” he informed me, flashing me his smart watch. “Not that you’ve been doing much to get sweaty, you lazy fuck.”
I shrugged. “Conserving energy for when the help is gone is a valid strategy. We both know you’ll only stick around as long as there’s a chance you’ll get laid.”
He waggled his brows at me. “I didn’t know that was on the table.”
“Not in your fondest dreams, pal. I don’t care if you unload every piece of furniture by yourself and decorate too.”
“I don’t fucking decorate. That’s what sisters and girlfriends are for. You’ve got one.”
“A sister? Definitely. Not that she has enough time for
that shit. She’s not even around right now, remember?”
My baby sister Ivy was in LA with her husband and their baby daughter Rhiannon for a week, which had been a tactical error on Ivy’s part since we were smack dab in the middle of a heat wave. Her ice cream truck Rolling Cones would’ve made a killing if she’d been open for longer than the banker’s hours she kept the truck operating on while she was away. She had a good crew to help her, but she preferred shorter shifts when she wasn’t around to manage things. If she’d been able to stay open until 10 pm on these sweltering nights as she usually did, she probably could’ve funded Rhi’s college education.
Not that her fancy rich husband needed any help with that.
I wasn’t bitter, toiling away on a teacher’s salary. Mostly because I loved my kids. I enjoyed their curiosity and enthusiasm and sometimes even their mischief-making. Aug claimed my affinity for children came from the fact that I hadn’t matured past twelve myself, but I would’ve said at least thirteen. Maybe fourteen on a good week.
In any case, I was happy with my lot. I wouldn’t have minded a bit more green to grease the wheels, but then again, who would?
Lucky tied back his long hair, swatting away the sweaty pieces sticking to his neck. “Yeah, Ivy’s getting used to that high-rolling life. Next thing you know, she’ll move out there. Probably get a pad on the beach. That’d be something to have a place to crash at on the west coast, huh?”
I didn’t say anything. My family was close. Sure, we had our occasional spats like any other. Now and then, we didn’t speak for days at a time. Life got busy.
But I didn’t want to lose my sister across the damn country. I definitely didn’t want to only see my niece on FaceTime and for occasional vacations. I was her favorite uncle. The fun one who’d hired a clown for her last birthday—Lucky, of course—and helped her whip up and down the sidewalk on her tricycle. She’d had a small accident and busted open her lip on account of the raised lip on the sidewalk, but she’d healed fine, right? And she had a hell of a story for the kids at playgroup. You know, for when she could talk coherently.
She was a sentient toddler now, so I was enjoying my little RhiRhi more with each passing month. But infants were another story. My other niece, Vivian, was a bit younger, so we were still working on communication beyond goo-goo gaa-gaa.
I wasn’t one for babies. Nope, never. Not my bag. I preferred kids once they got past the drooling and excessive pooping stages.
Lucky straightened and grabbed a soda for himself, popping the top. “Well, if Ivy can’t help, then you gotta get your mom involved. They live for that stuff.”
“Are you kidding me? She’s on like fourteen town committees. She barely has time to sleep, when you factor in her work at the gallery. Besides, who says I need a damn decorator? I didn’t at my old place.”
He laughed and took a long drink. “Yeah, and it looked great. Not. Most of the rooms didn’t even look lived in. You can’t do that in a swank place like this, man. Forrester’s taken all these apartments up a notch.” He let out a belch. “When you invite over that sexy chick who strips for tuition, you don’t want to make her sit on the floor. Then again, if you do, I have a better chance.” He nudged my shoulder. “I still owe you one for the Sanders’ sisters.”
He’d imparted so much in that barrage of information, I didn’t even know what to unpack first. “Uh, the Sanders’ sisters were almost a year ago.”
“Hell no. They were this spring.” He frowned and drank more. “Weren’t they?”
“Try last fall. And I didn’t hook up with both, just Judy. You just didn’t like that they both weren’t immediately bowled over by your baby greens.”
“Says you. What happened with you guys?”
I shrugged. “We went out a few times. We’re still friends. Just no spark.”
“But she’s smokin’. Doesn’t that count for something?”
I shrugged again and finished off my lemonade, feeling like a class A chump. How could I tell him I was developing an aversion to casual dating? Not because I wanted something serious. Hell no.
Lucky and I were Crescent Cove’s original bachelors. When all the single men around us tumbled like timber for the whole marriage and babies scene, we stood strong. We didn’t want any of that. Pleasures of the flesh were enough for us, thank you.
No commitment. No stress.
No way, not in baby central anymore. How could you possibly enjoy a no-strings hookup in a place like the Cove? We’d become known across the northeast for ease in procreation. The damn town bird might as well have been the stork.
I gestured to the remaining items left in the back of my SUV. We’d packed that sucker like a Tetris game, taking advantage of every millimeter of space. “You going to help me with this stuff or what?”
“Help? I’ve been carrying most of it while you stand around out here sipping lemonade like a southern belle.” To show off—as usual—he picked up my bookcase under one arm and grabbed another small shelving unit with his other hand. Then he winked at me before heading inside.
Since I knew quite well his posturing probably had to do with the woman he’d mentioned probably innocently dancing in her own apartment, I grabbed a couple of small end tables and followed him toward the sexy music.
After we went upstairs, I stepped around him to open the door to the hallway before we continued on toward my apartment. The music only grew louder as we walked.
Apartments branched off in two directions. There were only a few on each floor, and for now, there were three levels. There was still room for more on the very top floor, but Forrester was taking his time there, gauging interest, before he decided to make it one big place or split it up like the other ones. On the roof, there was a communal gathering space for all the tenants’ use.
This property right across from the lake was in a prime location, what with Macy’s Brewed Awakening on the bottom floor and the Cove’s real estate market booming. I’m sure Forrester liked being the hottest ticket in town.
“Holy shit,” I mumbled as I walked into the back of Lucky, who had stopped dead outside my door.
And who could blame him, because the door across the hall was cracked open, just enough to reveal a scantily clad blond winding around a pole that had been drilled into her floor. Or attached there somehow, well enough to support the gyrations she was doing around it.
To it.
“Told you,” Lucky said smugly, panting slightly from what he held. He appeared to be glued in place and had not set it down yet.
“Does she realize the door is open?”
I was fervently glad that it was, even if I felt a bit like a pervert watching her. Her eyes were closed as she moved to the music, so she didn’t know we were out here, but she was dressed—albeit in a minuscule way.
When Lucky didn’t reply, I tried again. “Since the door is open, maybe she wants us to see?” It was a mostly hopeful question.
My conscience was screaming now. I had a sister and a niece and of course a mom. I taught kids. Spying on her wasn’t kosher.
Unless she had some exhibitionistic tendencies and didn’t mind if we peeped on her. At least she wasn’t naked.
I would just keep telling myself that.
“I cracked the door open a little, wanting to see where the music was coming from,” Lucky admitted, voice low. “She hadn’t latched it though. I’m not that bad.”
“Asshole.” I jabbed the pointed corner of one of my end tables into his back.
He grunted and dropped the bookcase on his toe. His unholy bellow of pain made the gorgeous blond stop dancing, just as I set down my furniture and moved toward her door to firmly pull it shut.
Well, that had been my intention anyway. I didn’t make it all the way to closing the door, because her face fucking slayed me.
I could admit I hadn’t noticed it before, as occupied as I’d been with her fluid movements. She was seriously coordinated. Flexible. Hot as fuck. But then she just had to have
a stunning face to match, with fiery eyes—color undetermined from this distance—and full lips and enough cleavage to kill a man who’d been abstinent for, oh, close to eight months now.
The last woman I’d asked out had ended up engaged to the sheriff within weeks. So, that kind of gave a reading on the state of my love life.
“What in the goddess are you doing?” she demanded, lowering the music and marching to the door at a rate of speed sufficient to make all the dangling threads from her top flutter over her abs.
She had a twinkling jewel in her navel. I was reasonably sure the beam of light from it had rendered me cross-eyed. Possibly altered some of my bodily functions as well.
That was as good an excuse as any for my current…pants predicament.
“Eyes up here, pal.” She tapped her forehead. “Were you breaking in?”
“Hardly. The door was open. I was shutting it for you. Never know who’s around.”
“Wind did it,” Lucky muttered from behind me.
I glanced back to see him leaning against the wall, gripping his foot. His boot was lying sideways on the floor.
I probably should’ve felt guilty, but he knew better than to pull stunts like that. Nudging a door open wasn’t cool. She didn’t know us. The last thing we wanted to do was scare her or make her feel uncomfortable. And I was her new neighbor, for fuck’s sake. If he made things weird between us, I’d be the one dealing with the fallout.
