Love Undercover_A Romance Compilation

by Amy Brent

  But not before Christopher caught me rushing down the hallway.

  “What?” I asked. “You’re going to make me late.”

  “Do you even know who this guy is?” Chris asked.

  “Seriously? We’re still on that? I’m messing with you, Chris. I’m going to see Megan tonight. I haven’t seen her in weeks, and I’m not cancelling because you can’t keep your dick to yourself.”

  “Didn’t know you wanted me to,” he said with a grin.

  “I have to go get ready. I’m meeting her in an hour and a half.”

  “Maybe you could come over after.”

  “Goodbye, Chris.”

  I walked away from his grasp and left him standing in the venue. The man was relentless, and it told me I had him right where I wanted him. I raced home and cleaned myself up, making sure to soak my feet. My nanny got Caleb dressed up in his cutest outfit, then I shooed her out the door so she could get on with her life. I made it a point to make sure she understood she wasn’t my slave. I wanted to help her balance her personal life with helping me, and I wasn’t going to try and monopolize her time.

  “All right, little man. Let’s go see your godmother.”

  Megan was all too happy when we pulled up to the restaurant. She was standing on the edge of the sidewalk, ready to thrust herself at us as I carried Caleb in his car seat over to her. She cooed at him, pulling a smile across his cheeks before she unbuckled him from his seat. She was the proudest godmother I’d ever seen in my life, and when I gave birth eight months ago it was a no-brainer for me to ask her.

  “Why has it been weeks since I’ve seen you?” Megan asked.

  “Because life has been hectic,” I said.

  “I was talking to Caleb, not you,” she said.

  “Oh, I should’ve known. Want me to go secure us a table?”

  But all Megan did was bounce him around as we walked up the steps to the restaurant.

  “How’s he been doing?” Megan asked.

  “He’s been good. He’s very comfortable with our nanny so he hasn’t been fussing when I leave the house anymore. I was worried about that for a little while.”

  “It’ll be good for him to get used to having other people around as well. Socializing children from a very young age is important.”

  “Still reading those books, I see.”

  “I’m surprised I still can’t get you to read them,” she said.

  “I read when it’s necessary, but a lot of this stuff has come naturally with Caleb. He’s a good baby. Sleeping well, eating well. Not really a sick baby or constipated or anything. The only hiccup we had was with breastfeeding, and while I was upset about it, I’ve found that using formula is a lot more convenient with my schedule now than breastfeeding would have been.”

  “Does anyone give you lip for that?” she asked.

  “It’s not their place to. He’s my child and he’s getting fed, which is all that’s important. Speaking of, he’s now officially eating mushy solids.”

  “And I missed it?”

  “You won’t tonight. He’ll be trying mashed potatoes along with a banana I brought along,” I said.

  “I hate that we don’t see each other as much as we used to. I’ve been missing this little guy,” she said.

  “Nice to know I’m chopped liver.”

  “Girl, I always miss you. Cool it.”

  Pulling out the banana, I mashed it up and let Caleb go to town making a mess. Megan was having a blast trying to help him get his fingers to his mouth. The two of us ordered our food and drinks and told the waiter he didn’t have to rush, then I opened my big mouth and blabbed the news before I could think twice.

  “Christopher’s back in town.”

  Megan whipped her gaze to me as our drinks were set in front of us.

  “He’s what?” she asked.

  “He’s back. In L.A.”

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  “Turns out he’s the choreographer for this runway show I’m doing.”

  “No he’s not.”

  “Yes, he is. I’ve seen his face every fu—”

  I caught myself and looked over at Caleb as I cleared my throat.

  “Good catch,” Megan said with a grin.

  “Every day for the past four days,” I said.

  “How is that going, by the way? You’re into everyday practices now, right?”

  “We are. I’m getting everything fine, but the other girls are having problems. One of them got their heel caught in the fabric of her outfit today and went down. Busted her wrist and tore the skirt in one fell swoop.”

  “Is she just a klutz, or is walking down a runway that tough?”

  “I know it may not seem like it, but it actually takes a lot of coordination and confidence to be a model. And Chris is giving us all a run for our money with the turns in his choreography. Each outfit has three of them, and I think she fell more due to the fact that she was dizzy.”

  “Three turns? Don’t you just—walk, turn, walk back?”

  “Do you intentionally say these things to pi—”

  I caught myself again and drew in a deep breath through my nose.

  “You’re getting better at that,” Megan said.

  “You’re gonna make me cuss in front of my son,” I said, with a giggle.

  “Okay, I’m done patronizing you. But seriously, that’s big news. How do you feel about all this?”

  “My blood boils when I see him.”

  “Okay. So—tell me how you really feel?”

  “You know what he did to me, Megan. You knew what was going on with us,” I said. “I pined over him all through high school. Drooled over him when he came over to hang out with Justin.”

  “We both drooled over him,” she said. “I was so jealous when you told me the two of you were—you know.”

  “You can say ‘hooking up’ in front of Caleb,” I said.

  “But his poor little ears.”

  “You’re crazy. Anyway, he gets up and leaves with no explanation, not even to Justin, and now he’s back and acting like nothing happened.”

  “Seriously? No apology or anything?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  “Has he tried talking with you?”

  “A lot,” I said.

  “Do you still have a thing for him?”

  “If you must know, we did—get together—the night before last,” I said.

  “See, you can’t say it in front of Caleb either, unless you’re trying to chastise me for it,” Megan said. “Should I even ask how you feel about the two of you getting together?”

  “Conflicted,” I said. “I’m—conflicted about it. It was fun, like it always was.”

  “Are you trying to strike something up with him again?”

  “Not even kind of. I have needs as a woman, he’s willing to fulfill them. What’s the problem?”

  “The problem is you were in love with him, Jessi. I don’t want to see you get hurt by him again.”

  “He won’t. I’ve got walls and barbed wire around this heart.”

  “Which is all the more reason for you to stop whatever this is between the two of you before it gets out of hand,” she said.

  “I’m not going to let it get out of hand,” I said. “I’m completely in control this time. He thinks he’s got the upper hand, but he has no idea.”

  “I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

  “Good thing I’m not asking your opinion,” I said, with a grin.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  The waiter set our food in front of us and I thanked him with a smile.

  “Oh boy. Whenever you ask like that, I know it’s a question I’m going to hate,” I said.

  “Probably, but I’m going to ask anyway. I’ve had this blossoming theory for a while now, so I’m simply going to ask you.”

  “Go for it,” I said.

  “Is Christopher Caleb’s father?”

  I almost spit out the green beans I wa
s chewing on as my eyes whipped up to Megan.

  “I knew it,” she said.

  “I didn’t answer,” I said.

  “You didn’t have to. I saw that look in your eye. Jessi, why in the he—world didn’t you tell me?”

  “In my defense, I didn’t tell anyone.”

  “Not even Justin?”

  “Especially not my brother, idiot.”

  “Or your parents?”

  “That’s still a point of contention for us,” I said. “Haven’t spoken to them in months.”

  “Wait a second. Your parents don’t come by to see their grandchild?”

  “My getting pregnant was a massive slap in the face to them. You were there for that whole ordeal.”

  “But they were there for the birth. You said things had settled down.”

  “Until it came time to name the father on the birth certificate,” I said. “And I didn’t want to. They accused me of intentionally hiding who the father was and they thought they could compel me to name the father on the birth certificate by using a court order.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Yep. They went through hospital counsel and everything.”

  “Why wasn’t I there for all of this? I was in the hospital with you.”

  “This didn’t happen in the hospital. I got home and settled before they bombarded me with it. Remember when I called you and told you I was moving out to get a place of my own for Caleb and I because I needed to branch out and do my own thing?”

  “That was why?”

  “Yep. I’ve talked to them twice since I moved out, and they haven’t been to my place at all.”

  “We’re best friends, Jessi. Why in the world were you keeping this stuff from me?”

  “I don’t know, Megan. I mean—I’m supposed to be able to rely on family, right? And in the span of, what—two weeks? I lost them all.”

  “You don’t even talk to Justin?” she asked.

  “We talk. He’s come over a few times to see Caleb and spend time with him. But he gets caught in the crossfire with Mom and Dad and it breaks my heart for him.”

  “So you didn’t tell me because—”

  “If my family reacted that way, my best friend’s reaction was unpredictable.”

  “I would have supported you.”

  “I know that now. But I was still in pain from giving birth and I was staring into the eyes of a baby that looks just like his father and it was—it was a little too—too much.”

  Megan reached her hand out for mine and I took it. I hated crying. It made me feel weak and I was an ugly crier, with my face all scrunched up and my eyes red. I sniffled and shook my head, trying to clear my mind of the whirlwind my life had become when I’d gotten pregnant.

  “Does he know?” Megan asked. “Have you told him?”

  “Are you kidding me? What am I gonna say? ‘Hey Chris, nice to see you after a year and a half. Guess what? You have a son!’ How do you think that would go over in the middle of a choreography rehearsal?”

  “I don’t know. But he’s Caleb’s father. He has a right to know he has a son.”

  “He lost every right to me and any byproduct of our relationship when he left me high and dry after promising me the world,” I said.

  I wrenched my hand from Megan’s as I began stabbing at my mashed potatoes.

  “You scoop those,” Megan said.

  “I’ll aim this fork at you if you don’t hush,” I said.

  “Consider it. That’s all I’m asking. Maybe he doesn’t have a right to anything, maybe that wasn’t the right word, but if he finds out by accident, he’s gonna be upset.”

  “Good, because when he left I was stuck crying through half my pregnancy. One of the most beautiful moments in a woman’s life, and I was healing my broken heart while watching my stomach grow with his child.”

  I wiped at a tear as I tossed my fork down onto my plate.

  “I can—understand why you didn’t say anything about it,” Megan said.

  “I’m sorry I got upset with you,” I said.

  “How about this? How about we don’t talk about him anymore, and you fill me in on all the things Caleb’s done over the past five weeks?” she asked.

  “Now that sounds like a wonderful plan,” I said.

  Chapter 6

  Christopher

  “Hey there, Chris. I like those pants on you.”

  “Guess I got tickets to the gun show today, handsome.”

  “Are you free for coffee in the morning? I know this wonderful place we could try.”

  It was funny to me that all the models were throwing themselves at me. It wasn’t new territory, but they’d never been this relentless. I was hit on by them several times a day and a few were ballsy enough to ask me out themselves, but I didn’t give a shit about any of them. The only woman in the room I wanted was Jessi.

  She looked beautiful walking down that runway. Graceful and elegant as she twirled for my own private viewing. I used her time and time again as an example of how the other women should be doing it. The way the designer’s clothes draped along her curves tugged at my cock in ways I couldn’t describe. I’d been heated when she mentioned seeing another guy a couple of days ago. I felt that monster rearing its ugly head. The thought of another man putting his hands on her made my fists clench in anger.

  She was no one else’s but mine.

  “Jessi! Jessi, come here. I got something to ask you.”

  I watched her turn her head, her sexy hair billowing around her shoulders. Just like those fucking clothes on her body.

  “What’s up?” she asked. “Something wrong?”

  “I was wondering if you were still up for the steak and parmesan broccoli.”

  “This the dinner with the wine?” she asked.

  “It is.”

  “I didn’t realize I was up for that dinner in the first place.”

  “Then I’m asking you now. Would you like to come to my place and have dinner, wine, and conversation?”

  “Is that you call what we did last time?” she asked.

  “If that’s how you want to phrase it, then sure.”

  “I can’t,” she said. “I have to go home and check up on a package being delivered today.”

  “You can do that then come on over. It’s only three o’clock.”

  “You’re releasing us early? I didn’t realize.”

  “My place. Five o’clock. Wine, steak, and broccoli. Bring nothing but yourself and prepare yourself for a night of decadent—conversation.”

  I raked my eyes up and down her body as her cheeks flushed with want. I had her. Hook, line, and sinker. Her body was turning towards me and I could see her nipples poking through her bra. The scene made me salivate with want. I wanted to pull her into my arms, press her into one of these dark corners, and take her up against the wall. Pull those damn leggings down, scoot her panties off to the side, and slide my cock right in.

  But I contained myself as she pondered my offer.

  “Five-thirty,” Jessi said.

  “See you then,” I said with a grin.

  “But can you make the steak lasagna and the broccoli French bread?” she asked.

  “I thought we already had those code words established?”

  I wasn’t an idiot. I knew exactly what her favorite meal was. My homemade lasagna as well as the thickly-sliced and toasted French bread I made. I sliced garlic cloves real thin and layered the bread with it and some butter, and she couldn’t get enough of it. I loved watching her eat that meal. At the time, it was the only meal I could cook from scratch. But the past year and a half had changed many things about my cooking skills, and I’d become a master of my own domain.

  But I knew she’d never be able to resist the original goodness of my lasagna.

  I was pulling the French bread out of the oven as I heard a knock on the door. Fuck. She was already here. I was hoping to get all our shit on the table before she arrived. I pulled it out and set it on the
stove next to the lasagna before I scrambled for two wine glasses, then popped the cork and poured her a glass.

  “Chris? I’m coming in.”

  “Just getting us some wine,” I said, as I came around the corner.

  “It smells incredible in here,” Jessi said.

  “Only the best for the best. This is yours.”

  I handed her the glass of wine before I pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek.

  She looked fucking gorgeous. She was in this sleeveless dress that had a navy blue bodice with a bow underneath. Then the rest of the fabric of the dress draped around her curves and settled into the dip of her waist nicely. Her hair was tumbling down her back, pulled into a half ponytail and blowing swiftly in the breeze coming in from the porch. The sunset twinkled in her eyes as she gravitated towards the balcony, the table and chairs calling to her as the sun set below the ocean.

  I went into the kitchen and spooned us up some dinner before carrying everything outside.

  “Figured this would be the perfect view for dinner,” I said.

  “It’s gorgeous out here,” Jessi said.

  “Well, you’re welcome anytime. And I mean that.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I might take you up on that. Does your lasagna taste as good as it used to?”

  “Only you can be the judge of that.”

  I held out a fork for her and she took it between her delicate fingers. I watched her scoop up a bite, the cheese stretching for days as she put it between her lips. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she moaned, relishing the taste as she chewed with delight.

  “I don’t know how it’s better, but it is,” she said.

  I grinned at her, settling my arms on the table as I watched her swallow.

  “I’m glad you like it,” I said.

  “How long have you been living here? On this property?” she asked.

  “I’m about three months in,” I said.

  “What did it cost you?”

  “Not as much as some would think. I’ve done a lot of renovating to the place. It was practically a shack when I first bought it.”

  “Well you’ve done a good job with it. It’s beautiful and very cozy.”