“Nick, there’s something…something that I need to tell you.” I hated myself as I prepared to make his life harder. “I’m pregnant, about three months now.”
He pulled away and stared at me.
“What?” Bonnie said behind him, and I closed my eyes. “Pregnant?” She stormed past us and slammed the door. “Were you even going to tell me?”
“Or me? I’m the father, aren’t I?” Nick asked as her mouth dropped open.
“You’re the girl that he was talking about? Oh my god. How long has this been going on?” Bonnie demanded, as I took a deep breath.
“Not long. About four months or so,” I told her, as I looked at Nick. “This baby wasn’t planned, and it just happened. I was going to move away and raise it on my own since I know that you don’t want a baby.”
“When did I say that?” Nick asked, and I narrowed my eyes.
“The night the condom broke. Don’t you remember?” His eyes grew dark in thought, and he shook his head. “You said it.”
“I was nervous. I knew what I was feeling for you, and I was just scared. I didn’t think I ever wanted a relationship with anyone, Melissa, and now I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I want this baby.” He stared into my eyes and leaned down to kiss me.
“What’s going on?” Brandon asked, as Nick and I parted. “Are you kissing my sister?”
“Should I break the news or do you want to?” Bonnie asked, and I gave her a dark look.
“I have been seeing Mel for a few months, Brandon. Roughly since our party.” He looked at my brother. “She just told me that she’s pregnant, and I am hoping that she is going to stay here and let me prove to her how much I love her.”
“Well, fuck. This has been a weird few days,” Brandon said, as he sat beside Bonnie. “Are you staying, Melissa?”
“I haven’t really had time to think about it, but…” I stared at Nick. “I love you, too. I love you, and I’d like to give us a chance if you’ll have both of us.” I looked at Brandon and Bonnie. “Are you mad?”
“How can I be when I’ve seen the good changes, Mel? He’s become a better man, happier. I have to wish you all the best,” Brandon told me as he looked at Bonnie. “You?”
“I had never seen him so sad about anyone before. It was like he was when mom died. That was about you, wasn’t it?” Bonnie asked. I nodded slowly.
“I tried to end things with him. I didn’t think he’d want me like this.”
“I want you any way that I can have you and I believe that you're going to be a sexy pregnant woman,” Nick growled. I laughed and he pulled me back into his arms. We felt someone come up and wrap their arms around us, and I heard Bonnie start to cry.
Two months later
Bonnie ended up moving to Colorado and Nick moved into the apartment with me while we were house hunting. I was happy with him attending appointments with me to check on the progress of our baby, and I watched his face carefully when the doctor told us at the ultrasound that we were having a boy. Nick cried and held onto my hand, and I saw his pure joy and love for both of us.
I was thrilled when he proposed to me in the house that we bought that backed up to Lake Washington, where we’d started.
I didn’t need Portland to make a new start. I just needed Nick, and I probably always had.
*****
THE END
Basketball Daddy
Description
He’s every woman’s dream. And he’s making me an offer I can’t refuse
Tamsin Clarkson has got her lucky break. She’s the journalist who is chosen to interview the winning team in the NBA semi-finals. This is exactly the boost she needs for her career.
Finding herself in the locker room after the game, she is confronted with superstar and notorious bad boy Crosby Jones. She’s supposed to interview him, but it’s a little difficult to concentrate when he’s in the shower... right in front of her.
He agrees to give her an exclusive feature article that she could never have imagined in her wildest dreams, but only if she gives him what he wants first: herself.
Tamsin agrees to the deal, but soon has to face the consequences: a surprise pregnancy.
She doesn’t tell him about it and breaks off all contact because she’s convinced that he doesn’t want the baby. Or is there a chance that he does?
Tamsin can’t afford to make another mistake—especially since she’s still dealing with Adam, her creepy one night stand who won’t stop texting her.
Adam is harmless though, right?
Chapter One
Tamsin was afraid she’d break a nail at the rate at which she was twisting her fingers from nervousness. Whatever happened, she had to be calm, she knew that. It was her first time on an assignment like this one, where she actually got to interview a team after the game in their locker room. The worst thing she could do was appear nervous and mess it up.
She was standing at the door of the locker room, waiting for the team to come back in. The loud cheers from the stadium made it evident that the fans were not ready for the team to leave yet after their win. That was okay, Tamsin could wait. The longer they took to return, the more time she would have to soothe her nerves.
The phone in her bag vibrated and she felt it move against her thigh. Tamsin pulled it out irritably. She didn’t need any more distractions.
Ver R U? answr nw
She couldn’t believe Adam had actually got himself a new number, since she’d blocked his old one. He couldn’t even write a complete sentence without dropping all the vowels. Tamsin rolled her eyes, as annoyed with herself as she was with him. What had she been thinking? Why had she agreed to a one-night stand with a random guy she met at a bar?
She deleted the text, dropped the phone back into her bag and leaned against the doorway.
The cheering from the crowd grew louder. This victory meant the team had made it to the semi-finals. Tamsin went from screwing up her fingers to biting her nails. She could feel the vibration of the floor as the team made its way back in.
Ever since she was a little girl, all she had wanted was to be a sports journalist, to cover NBA games and meet some of her favorite players, and it was happening now. This was her chance.
The team appeared at the end of the corridor. The guys were in their red and black jerseys, with their manager, coach and other supporters behind them. High fives were flying around, and she could see the sweat dripping down their hair, down their temples, soaking their jerseys. To Tamsin, they looked like warriors, like heroes, and they were making their way towards her.
That was when she saw him for the first time in real life. Crosby Jones. The guy had been an inspiration to her and many others. At the tender age of eighteen, Crosby had entered the NBA, having been scouted in college, and had become a national star in no time.
Now, six years later, he was a veteran but still going strong. Tamsin couldn’t help but smile at them. They were approaching her in a huddle, and she stood frozen at the spot.
“Are you Tamsin Clarkson?” somebody asked her, but she remained staring at the guys, following their every movement with bewildered eyes. Her dream had come true.
“Excuse me, miss. Are you Tamsin Clarkson?” The voice interrupted her thoughts again and she turned to find the manager of the team standing there with his arms crossed, glaring at her.
“Uhh…yes, I am.” She was fumbling with her words, still trying to get her bearings and shake herself out of the daze.
“Yes. I was told you’d be here. We don’t have much time for you, Miss Clarkson. Just a quick interview with the coach and a few of the players will have to do.” He started to walk into the locker room and Tamsin followed him, fumbling with her notebook and pen in her bag.
“Of course. I was promised an exclusive with Crosby Jones as well,” she said, still nervous as hell.
“Crosby doesn’t have time, Miss Clarkson. The coach will have to do for now.” He turned to her with an icy smile as he navig
ated his way through the people in the locker room. She wasn’t really paying much attention to what he had to say. All she could do was look around her in awe.
“Time for what?” someone asked and Tamsin jerked her head to look at Crosby standing in front of his locker. His shirt was off, and he was standing with his hands planted on his hips. Tamsin could feel her cheeks grow warm. She had never thought she would ever meet him in person, and here he was in his full bare glory.
Crosby towered over her by at least a foot, his pale skin was tanned and the muscles on his bare chest and arms were flexed. As he looked at her with curiosity in his eyes, she could see that his green eyes sparkled. Strands of his blond, shining hair fell over his eyes as he examined her. Sweat glistened on his forehead and his bare torso. Tamsin could feel her belly flop. He was the hottest guy she had ever set her eyes on. No wonder he had the reputation he had, of making women drop their panties with just one look.
What she wasn’t expecting was for him to smile. It was wide, displaying his neat, white teeth, and it overtook his face. She felt like she wouldn’t have the courage to say a word.
“She’s just here for an interview. Don’t worry about it, she can talk to the coach,” the manager answered and was starting to direct Tamsin away from him again. But their eyes were locked, and she could see that he was sizing her up. His eyes lingered on her breasts, then traveled to her face, while she grew even warmer and bit down on her lip.
“No. I have time. Hello, I’m Crosby Jones,” he said and stuck out his hand towards her, and Tamsin froze again. Why was he introducing himself to her? Of course she knew his name. Who didn’t?
“Tamsin. Tamsin Clarkson,” she said meekly, shaking his hand. His hand was large, double the size of her own and he shook it gently but firmly at the same time. Tamsin felt a shiver run down her spine. He was gorgeous.
“Crosby, you don’t have to.” She heard the manager’s voice behind her.
“I want to. Follow me, Tamsin. I need a quick shower,” he said, and walked past her, flinging a towel over his shoulder. She turned and followed him, at a loss for words still. Her mind wasn’t connecting to the rest of her body, and her limbs moved mechanically while her thoughts were elsewhere. Shower? Crosby? Those shoulders! She was drooling.
He stopped in front of a shower cubicle, exchanging a quick high-five with one of his teammates.
“Now, shoot,” he said, and stepped into the shower. He was still in his jersey shorts and for that Tamsin was thankful. She could feel her hands shaking. She fumbled with her notebook and pen. The curtain of the cubicle wasn’t drawn so she could see him position himself under the shower head. He was facing her, that same smile on his face, his eyes scrutinizing her every move.
“I…I wanted to do a piece about your inspiration, your motivation…and…” Tamsin was trying to get the words out, but they wouldn’t come, and her eyes were fixed on him.
And then she watched as he hooked the elastic band of his shorts with his thumbs and slowly pulled them down so they fell around his ankles. Crosby Jones was naked in front of her, with his legs spread wide apart and planted firmly on the tiles. In a second he had turned the shower on. Her eyes were fixed on his nakedness, on his big, thick dick throbbing between his legs. When she looked back at his face, she realized that he wasn’t looking at her.
He was massaging his head with the froth of the shampoo, completely oblivious to the way that Tamsin was gawking at him.
“My inspiration and motivation? So this isn’t a regular after-game interview?” she heard him ask, and it snapped her out of her thoughts. He had his eyes closed to shield himself against the torrent of water, and Tamsin cleared her throat. She needed to focus. This was normal locker-room life for him. She needed to act naturally if she wanted this interview to be a success.
“No. I mean, it can be, but I wanted to write a feature. About your life and childhood, and anything else you want to talk about.” She was still struggling with her words, but she was forcing herself to get through this. She was a professional after all, and she needed to come across as one if she was to be taken seriously.
“Those are high ambitions,” he said with a laugh, and Tamsin felt even more nervous. Could he tell that she was just a rookie?
“I don’t know if I want to talk about all that right after a game, when I should be celebrating.” Crosby turned off the shower and looked at her with a smile. His green eyes were shining and he didn’t look annoyed or arrogant, like many other small-time sportsmen and women that Tamsin had had to deal with before. How had the money and fame not gone to Crosby’s head? She was growing genuinely curious about the man’s life and personality. He was known to be media shy. He didn’t like interviews. Even though he was one of the biggest basketball players in the country, people didn’t know much about him. Other than, of course, the paparazzi photos of him with a new supermodel in his arms on a secluded beach in the Caribbean every few months.
She hadn’t expected him to cooperate. This was Crosby Jones. Who was she kidding? But she was taking her chances. He would say no to the interview and then she’d go and interview the coach. That was the worst that could happen, and that wasn’t so bad.
“I’ll tell you what, Tamsin Clarkson,” Crosby said, reaching for the dry towel he had hung on the hook. Her eyes widened as she looked at him. “We can do this feature article you’re talking about. Under certain conditions of course,” he said, rubbing his hair with the towel. She could feel her knees shaking. What did he mean?
“What conditions?” she asked, and he turned to her with a smirk.
“First, we decide on the line of questioning together. Second, the interview takes place later, not now,” he said, stepping out of the shower. He had come to a stop in front of her, just inches away from her body, so that Tamsin’s face was now level with his naked chest. She had done a good job of ignoring his body up until now, though, and she tried to keep her gaze focused on his face instead.
“I can agree to that, but you can’t edit the answers. We can decide the questions together, but what I record and write, I print.” Tamsin crossed her arms across her chest and caught him looking. He smiled again and then brushed past her.
“My house this Sunday. Five PM. I’ll be expecting you, Tamsin Clarkson,” Crosby said as he walked away from her, leaving her standing in front of the shower cubicle. He didn’t wait for a response or even a nod. He was gone as quickly as he had appeared. She could hardly believe any of those things had happened. It was like a dream. Was Crosby Jones even real? Why had he agreed to the interview? Was it some kind of trick? Was her mind deceiving her? There was only one way to find out. Sunday was only two days away.
Her phone vibrated, jerking her out of her reverie. It was Adam again.
I wil fnd u
Chapter Two
Tamsin looked at herself in the mirror. Her thick set of chocolate brown curls looked as tame as they would ever be. She had conditioned, moisturized and combed her hair for several hours, and now it sat like a soft, curling halo around her face. She wanted to look professional for the interview, so she’d chosen a form-fitting gray dress that just about reached her knees, black stilettos for her feet and dull silver hoops. Her skin shone like bronze under the harsh yellow light of her dressing table. She was never keen on makeup, but today she wanted to look the very best she possibly could. A dark brown-red lipstick was all she had settled for. It made her already plump lips stand out even more, and her dark brown eyes shine brightly.
Giving herself the once over, Tamsin was finally ready. Her editor had given her Crosby’s address and she made her way there.
He lived in a mansion, in a secluded cul-de-sac in the wealthiest neighborhood of the city. She had never even ventured to this part of town before. His house had wide iron gates, which a security guard opened for her when she showed him her ID.
The driveway was pebbled and on either side beautifully manicured lawns spread. A marble fountain greeted her where
she parked her car in front of the house.
Gingerly, Tamsin stepped out of her car, walked to the front door and rang the bell. She looked at her watch just as the door opened. She was right on time.
“Mr. Jones is expecting you,” an older lady, who was clearly the housekeeper, greeted her and led her through the foyer towards a living room. “Would you like something to drink, Ms. Clarkson?” she asked.
“Just a water would be fine,” Tamsin said with a smile, as she entered the sprawling living room. It was elegantly decorated, making it hard to tell that it was owned by a man who she assumed didn’t have much of an interest in decorating.
Tamsin sat at the edge of a lush leather couch and sank in unexpectedly. She managed to straighten herself just in time and cross her legs as a door at the other end of the room opened and Crosby walked in.
He was in a polo shirt and jeans. She was struck by how regular and comfortable he looked. His spiky blonde hair was neatly combed away from his face and was still damp, as if he had just had a shower. The thought of having watched him before in all his glorious nakedness returned to her.
Crosby walked towards her with a smile on his face and his hands dug into the pockets of his jeans.
“Good evening, Tamsin,” he said. His voice was smooth and deep. She tried to stand up but he indicated for her to stay seated. The housekeeper entered the room with a glass of cucumber water on a tray. She left it in front of Tamsin on the coffee table.
“Thank you, Mrs. Harley. That’ll be all. Please shut the door behind you.” Crosby smiled at his housekeeper as she left the room. “How have you been, Tamsin? You look well.” Crosby sat down across from her in an armchair.
“I’m good. You look well too, Mr. Jones,” she said, smoothing her dress. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. Her nervousness was mounting as she sensed his eyes on her.
Daddy's Bossy Friend Page 24
