Bad Boy's Bridesmaid

by Sosie Frost

  Chapter Fifteen – Leah

  The airport made me sick.

  The flight made me sick.

  Worrying about getting sick made me sick.

  Just about the only thing that didn’t make me sick was three thousand miles away back at home. For some reason, the morning sickness faded when I tucked into Jack’s arms.

  I wasn’t about to face the consequences of that little revelation. I suffered enough emotions and feelings and confusion when he touched me without actually needing his embrace to survive an upset stomach.

  Still, Jack wasn’t as nice as a ginger ale and some saltines. Our flight was direct but took forever. They served a dinner that didn’t agree with me or the baby. Jolene’s gloopy spaghetti was bad enough, but the Salisbury steak they tried to give me almost ended up in her lap as I darted to the bathroom again.

  I had no idea how long she’d think it was the flu, but I hoped I could cover for a bit longer. The baby was exciting, absolutely the greatest secret I had ever kept, but damn…it was hard to manage the little goober, the father goober, and this new potential deal. Everything was riding on this meeting, and an unwedded mother’s morning sickness would not sign contracts if they found out.

  Fortunately, we had our own hotel rooms. Jolene checked into hers while I camped out in the bathroom. I leaned on the tub and contemplated either a cold shower or an ice cream sundae. I just wished I could snuggle under the blankets where the nausea and jet lag couldn’t get me. But Jolene ordered me to go over the details once more before we met our prospective clients for breakfast.

  It wasn’t a glamorous job—yet. But maybe once we helped to present a deal that’d give the studios tax breaks for filming in Ironwood, I could finagle a part as an extra in some fun action movie.

  Except…I’d probably be pregnant.

  Really, really pregnant.

  I cupped my stomach, a greeting to the little one I hid. Jack had tucked a rattle inside my carry-on. It wasn’t a great find with my boss at my side, but it was too cute—a sponsored Rivets toy painted with Jack’s number.

  If the baby could just keep a low profile and let me make it through the breakfast tomorrow, we’d be good. But it was Jack’s baby, and he certainly didn’t know the meaning of low profile.

  My phone buzzed. I groaned and checked the text.

  Jolene’s text was practically seething. I was sick before I finished reading it.

  Jack Carson was ARRESTED at a bar fight tonight

  “Son of a—”

  I washed my face and tried to hide the flush of morning-sickness as she pounded on my door. I let her in. She grabbed the remote without a word and flipped to the sports channels.

  There he was.

  Clear as day.

  My baby’s father, the ultimate Jack-ass.

  He stood outside a police station, surrounded by his asshole teammates and the media. Jack didn’t have his agent, his lawyer, or me there to answer his questions.

  “What the hell is he doing?” I sunk onto the bed. “I told him to stay at home!”

  The live feed probably had a television delay. Even if I had a chance, he wouldn’t hear my call. I resisted the urge to toss the phone. I didn’t have the arm strength to heave it three thousand miles to knock him in the head.

  Jack faced the media and flashed his usual arrogant smirk when he thought people over-reacted. No remorse in his voice, no apologies. Just straight-up cocky charm that wouldn’t win over anyone.

  It had only been a couple hours. How did he get arrested in a few hours?

  And why did he have a black-eye?

  Jack spoke, waving away a question from a reporter. The motion was condescending, not disarming. He had the social skills of a drunken toddler.

  “Look, everyone.” He spoke, and the crowd hushed. Jolene cranked the volume up. “It was a misunderstanding.”

  “Jack, shut up, shut up, shut up...” I repeatedly called his phone and prayed I wouldn’t throw up. “Just shut up.”

  “We were out having a good time, just celebrating, things got out of hand. No charges were filed. Everything’s fine. Calm your asses down.”

  “Oh, God.” I lowered my head into my hands.

  Jolene stared at me, her arms crossed. “Do you have any idea what he’s done? The league is going to expel him for sure. You were supposed to be watching him!”

  “I am watching him.”

  “And the first night you’re out of town, he goes out looking for women?”

  The thought clenched my chest. Now I would be sick. “No. He wouldn’t do that.”

  “Do you really trust him?”

  Jolene’s phone buzzed and beeped and chimed. It set my nerves on edge. Who knew what sort of information she was getting, but I had to defend him.

  “I do trust him,” I said. “I just don’t trust him to keep his mouth shut when I should be the one talking for him.”

  The impromptu press conference pissed Jack off, but he refused to push through the crowd. I knew he did it for me. The last thing we needed was anyone else accusing him of breaking cameras or causing more trouble. The media pressed tighter. His temper snapped.

  A reporter tossed a microphone in his face. “Why were you out partying tonight, Jack?”

  Jack grimaced. “We weren’t partying. We were just out for a few hours.”

  “What about the fight, Jack?”

  He shrugged. “Just a misunderstanding. It’s okay. No problems.”

  Another reporter crashed into his side. “How’d you get the black-eye, Jack?”

  “Wrong place, wrong time.”

  “Thought the coach and league told you not to go out anymore?”

  His patience wore out. “I’m a grown fucking man.”

  The station didn’t bleep it in time. I groaned. There was another apology he’d hate to make.

  “I can go where I want, when I want,” he continued. “I don’t need league approval when I want to go out with a group of friends to celebrate.”

  “This is bad…” Jolene bit her nails. She broke into the mini-fridge and offered me a small bottle of alcohol. I took it before I realized what I did. She didn’t watch, and I rested it on the bed beside me. “He needs to get out of there.”

  The reporters closed the gap he tried to sneak through. “What were you celebrating, Jack?”

  The irritation and stress cracked him. He wove through the crowd of reporters and forced an exit. The question repeated five or six times from different outlets before he made it to the car and a police officer held the crowd back. Finally he turned, offering the media vultures a cold smile.

  “I was out celebrating because I’m going to be a father. You all ruined the night. Thanks.”

  Oh.

  God.

  No.

  The remote slipped from Jolene’s hand. She whipped around to stare at me, grabbing the alcohol bottle from the bed. She downed both.

  “He’s…” She covered her face. “You’re…”

  I wasn’t about to explain the how or why. I couldn’t, especially now that our little secret had given us something better than whatever relationship we constructed for his reputation.

  I nodded and looked down. “It’s…still early.”

  “You’ve been sick for two weeks.” Her words trailed off. “Oh, Leah. How could this happen?”

  “It’s okay.”

  “You had your life planned.”

  “Really, it’s okay. We can handle it.”

  “You can.” She pointed to the television. “This man can’t. Do you have any idea how this is going to look?”

  “He’s thrilled about the baby, Jolene.”

  “He’s a cocky son of a bitch who only cares about himself. And he’s gotten you in trouble.”

  “That’s not true. He’s very attentive and caring and he’s so excited—”

  “That’s because you still look like a twig. For Christ’s sake, Jack Carson is known for wild parties with multiple women, not to menti
on the alcohol and fights. He’s not a man who settles down. You know this. He’s a playboy. He’s a womanizer.”

  “He’s not that bad. He’s very sweet and charming and he—”

  “And he’s our biggest client. The state representatives and Hollywood producers downstairs won’t think we’re a reputable agency if my assistant is getting knocked up by our other clients!”

  “Jolene—”

  “Hell, maybe they’ll think it’s a perk! Who else are you willing to sleep with to get business?”

  “Jolene!”

  She exhaled, apologizing with a shake of her head. “Leah, this…this is too much. Are you marrying this man?”

  My stomach heaved. “I…no.”

  “Why not?”

  It wasn’t part of the deal. “Why should we?”

  “Because you’re having his child. You’re the baggage of a public figure. You’re…” She hesitated. “You were the future of this company. I trusted you to be rational and responsible; someone to partner with me once you learned your way. I can’t have my assistant sleeping with clients and getting pregnant.”

  “I can manage it all.”

  “No, you can’t. You deal with PR problems like this every day. We can’t spin this. It looks bad for our agency.”

  “It won’t be a problem.”

  “It already is. I’d hoped we could contain Jack while this fling passed, but we can’t. Leah, I need you to either marry this man and make it right or end it with him to let the impropriety pass.”

  I blinked. I didn’t like either option. “I…I’m not marrying him. And we’re not breaking up. I mean…things are…”

  Better than ever.

  Like a real relationship.

  Building to something neither of us expected.

  The thought of not going to bed with Jack at night, not having his touch on my skin, not hearing those gentle words when he praised me for carrying his baby?

  It broke a heart I never meant to give to Jack.

  Jolene sensed it. She nodded, turning off the television as the live cast ended and shifted to an ecstatic Ainsley Ruport listing all of Jack’s current controversies and issues.

  Jolene lowered her voice. She couldn’t look at me.

  “I have to let you go then, Leah.”

  “…What?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  A long moment passed where I didn’t understand what happened.

  Let me go?

  I couldn’t respond. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up. Jolene spoke to me from the doorway, but I didn’t hear much. She offered to expense my flight back to Ironfield and said she’d mail my things from the office.

  The door closed.

  My stomach heaved until I had nothing left inside me but the baby.

  She left, and I collapsed on the bed. Tears stung my eyes. I silenced the call from Jack. The phone buzzed and buzzed until I shut it off.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  First Wyatt broke off the engagement, and I lost a full year mourning a man I didn’t love. I finally had an opportunity to secure the career I needed, and now?

  Gone.

  Ruined.

  I had no marriage. No job.

  And a baby on the way.

  My life unraveled string by string until I tangled myself in my own expectations and misery. I didn’t bother making the arrangements through Jolene’s office. I took my suitcase and called for a cab myself. It was a lonely ride, but I managed to buy a plane ticket on the way. The cost made me cry. I depleted some of my savings for a flight that wasn’t direct, had a three hour layover, and trapped me against the window and nowhere near the bathroom.

  Humility was about as bitter as morning sickness.

  I didn’t sleep on the first flight. The second was delayed. I spent most of the layover sick and exhausted. I just wanted to curl in a bed and rest.

  But not just any bed.

  Jack’s bed.

  And I wanted him there. Holding me. Kissing me. Comforting me.

  But I couldn’t expect it from that damn playboy. He wasn’t my boyfriend, and I had no idea if I could depend on him as a friend. He owed me one hell of an explanation.

  And if he wanted to be a part of the baby’s life, he owed me more than that.

  Like an apology. A pledge that I could trust him. Some reason that I should let the baby near the fiend once he or she was born.

  We landed before daybreak. I took a taxi directly to Jack’s house, suffering even more as I calculated what I had in savings for rent, food, and now…

  Baby supplies. Doctor’s appointments.

  Everything.

  Jack opened the door before I knocked. He hadn’t slept, and he looked as sick as me.

  “Christ, Kiss. I was terrified! I thought something happened to you!”

  Jack tried to hug me. I stopped him with a raised palm.

  He took the hint, but he grabbed my luggage and tossed it inside. Then he nearly carried me to the couch. Tears prickled my eyes as he knelt at my feet.

  I couldn’t tug my hands away. He kissed my fingers and dared to apologize.

  “The fight wasn’t my fault. I just went out for an hour. It wasn’t…” His voice faded as he wiped a tear from my cheek I hadn’t meant to shed. “I wasn’t meeting women. It wasn’t a party.”

  “The report said you smelled like beer.”

  “It spilled on me. I tried to break up the fight.”

  I pointed to his black-eye. “You did a terrible job.”

  “It was an accident. No charges filed. No problem. Everything worked out.”

  “…You told the world I was pregnant.”

  He nodded. “I wasn’t thinking. But it’s okay. It worked. I already talked to Coach Thompson. He…”

  Cut him? Fined him? Benched him?

  “He congratulated me.”

  That wasn’t happy news. I hated the thought that it was all a PR stunt.

  Jack met my gaze. “And the headline? A couple of papers are leading with the pregnancy, saying we were out celebrating when some other guy caused trouble.” He grinned. “For once, I wasn’t the guy starting trouble! We did it, Kiss. It’s okay.”

  I needed to throw up. I forced myself to stay still.

  “Jolene fired me tonight.”

  Jack’s grin turned to a scowl, as though Jolene were the one who sucker-punched him. “Fuck. Why the hell would she fire you?”

  “It didn’t look good for the future partner of her agency to be impregnated by her main client.”

  “What?”

  “She thought it’d either look like I was irresponsible, or like I’d sleep with anyone to get their business.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “No.” My voice hardened. “It’s not fair. This is your fault, Jack. I had a plan to announce the pregnancy. A plan you ruined. You shouted it to anyone who would listen to get yourself out of jail.”

  “Not true.”

  “You’re out of control, Jack.” I pushed away from him. “You used the baby to get out of trouble.”

  He held his arms out. “That was the reason we had it.”

  Oh, God.

  I didn’t think anything could hurt worse than the humiliation of getting fired.

  This was agony.

  Was I that big of an idiot?

  “That was a bad reason to have a baby.” I couldn’t scream, couldn’t yell. I just fell numb and exhausted and into a state of sheer disbelief. “I love this baby, Jack. I want him! I want to raise a child and be a mother and experience that joy.”

  “You don’t think I want to be a father?”

  I shook my head. “You want whatever benefits you. So you can do as you like without any consequence. I can’t save you, Jack. Nothing we do, no stories we leak, nothing will ever help you shed this selfish image. It’s not PR that hurts you. It’s yourself.”

  “Kiss.”

  “You need to decide if you can be a real man, or if you want to run arou
nd like a child, pouting when you don’t get your way.”

  “Kiss—”

  I couldn’t handle the nickname. I nearly covered my ears.

  My heart broke with each passing second, and I had no idea how much longer I could endure the stare of a man who hurt me so much.

  “I defended you!” I said. “I told Jolene you were a good man, sweet and caring. And now this?” My voice dropped. “You don’t even care about the baby.”

  One step too far.

  Jack got angry.

  Really angry.

  His expression darkened, and I swear he shifted, seething with strength and pulsing with rage. He grabbed my hand, ignoring me as I resisted him pulling me to the stairs.

  Jack wound me in his arms when I dared to fight. Profanity did nothing. I pounded on his shoulder, but he was too strong to care what I did. I expected him to drop me at the bedroom with an order to pack my things.

  Instead, he plunked me in the hall before the unused bedroom. He kicked the door open.

  And a nursery erupted in light.

  Jack stood behind me, his voice unshaken.

  “I’ve been working on this the nights you weren’t staying here. It’s not done yet.”

  My stomach flipped.

  The room painted in soft yellow with brand new, top-of-the-line and designer equipment tucked inside. He filled it with cribs and changing tables, dressers and rocking chairs, mobiles and enough pillows, blankets, and plush animals that the baby would never touch the carpet when he or she learned to walk.

  Rivets decals plastered on the walls, and Jack rummaged through a drawer already full of onesies. He pulled one out, showing me the little, custom-made baby outfit with the Rivets’ logo and his number on the back.

  “I’ve been buying things all month. Probably more than a baby needs.” He opened the closet, jammed packed with toys and diapers and more baby clothes. So much stuff it looked like he emptied out an entire store. “I wanted to surprise you. I wanted…”

  I touched the crib, swallowed as more tears blurred my vision. “The walls are yellow?”

  “We hadn’t talked about learning the gender.”

  “Do you want to find out?”

  He shook his head. “No. It’s exciting to find out when they’re born. I thought that sounded fun. So, in case you went for it, I picked something neutral for the room.”

  Tears burned my eyes again. The relief that flooded through me was enough to nearly knock me down. I didn’t know what to say. I stroked the crib, imagining a little baby sleeping while we watched him.