Bootscootin' and Cozy Cash Mysteries Boxed Set (Books 1-6)

by Scott, D. D.

  Sex toys would give way to Fisher Price. Love lotions and potions would be replaced by stretch mark cream. And she could forget their moonlit strolls. Her angst-ridden feet and back would impede that luxury. Plus, all outdoor adventures had become damn near impossible anyway due to her paparazzi hell.

  A baby added to the mix? What were they going to do with a baby?

  Damian had always teased her about obsessing over

  things. Well she wouldn’t be the only one going beyond ga-ga now. They’d both be taking a big, OCD crazy trip.

  Audrey’s hands shook as she tucked the test stick back into its wrapper and tossed it into the trash with the omen egg.

  Still sitting on her porcelain throne, too numb to attempt to stand up, she lowered her head between her knees as if preparing for a crash landing. Not able to stop the tears rushing her eyes, she cried like a baby, not missing the irony. There’d soon be a lot more of that sound.

  Crying her way through ending her conversation with Jules, she felt some relief in knowing Jules, and Roxy too, as soon as she summonsed the guts to call her, would be her wing chicks.

  She stared at her chic feet, perfectly showcased in her favorite Christian Louboutin’s. Who needed sensible shoes in the middle of January in the South? She hadn’t…’til now. Admittedly, one of the many benefits to her new life here in Music City.

  Good, all-weather walking shoes weren’t necessary here, especially when most days she found herself hiding inside, away from the ugly world that could again catch-up with her at any moment. Her fancy shoes were one of the few comforts she had. Another comfort she was about to give-up.

  Her gut twisted, and it was way too early for the sensation to be coming from her Mini Me. Or was it?

  In a matter of weeks, she’d be trading in her stilettos for Sketchers because her feet would be swollen and killing her.

  Not that she shouldn’t always be in Sketchers or slippers. She was constantly on the go, struggling with the mere twenty-four hours in each day. She needed at least thirty hours, and comfortable shoes, plus a lot of luck to cover her daily To Do Lists.

  So how was she going to juggle her business success and shutter-speed hell with super mommy-dom?

  Oh, God, now her head hurt. But shit. Could she even take an aspirin?

  She flipped through the pregnancy bible’s index, searching for the chapter illuminating the likelihood of achieving her aspirin aspirations.

  Discovering that aspirin and Ibuprofen were both off the list of possible pain remedies, she decided she’d better just mind over matter it until she consulted her doctor. But since it was her mind inflicting the challenge, overriding it would be tough to do. But too bad. She’d just have to beat her brain.

  If only she could be as confident she’d make it through all the stages of the little kit-and-caboodle she now had growing inside her.

  She sighed, exhaling in stuttered passes. Then let the giggle gurgling inside her throat escape into the heavy silence. The drama of all this made her laugh. She always laughed when she was scared shitless. Having a sense of humor always beat the crash-and-burn, alternative coping mechanisms.

  Kind of a strange combination of emotions, but then that’s what pregnancy was about, right? Unpredictable, emotional joy rides. Followed by plunges into the depths of despair hell. Well…that’s what she’d heard anyway. Not like she knew from personal experience.

  She sucked up her bewilderment and got off the toilet.

  Before pulling up her jeans, she gingerly poked and prodded her belly, searching for any sign of the little surprise inside making a temporary home. She came to her protruding hip bones and stopped, another wave of despair taking the wind out of her spirit.

  After almost a year of meticulously orchestrated lifestyle adjustments, she’d just hit the sixty-seven pound mark in her weight loss battle. With a baby on the way, she’d blimp up again, right in front of the television cameras she’d thought she’d escaped by moving to Nashville. And that also meant she’d start to look more and more like her old self. Not a good thing.

  At least she’d actually be pregnant this time. No more having to finesse her way through the indignant horror of being asked by her handlers if she was with child or had recently given birth…always a nice assault on her already over-sensitive and over-abused ego. As if she could help she was born with a built-in baby bump. She could thank her dad’s stumpy gene pool for that.

  Frankly, her genetics just sucked on all accounts.

  Thirty-five and living on the run. Under a name not her own. Thirty-five and pregnant with her first baby. With a fabulous man, but a man who did not want to be her baby daddy. Nothing she’d want to pass-on to the next generation.

  Not that she thought she was too old. Several women she knew back in Manhattan were her same age or older and just getting around to being mommy-to-be’s.

  She was concerned however about her age increasing the risks associated with pregnancy, although she’d now confirmed they’d conquered the predominant risk…decreased fertility. No problems there.

  But what about her “old” eggs mixed with Damian’s even “older” sperm? He was pushing fifty. She’d need to read up on the effects of age on genetic defects, miscarriage and tough labor.

  As if anything in her life had ever been uncomplicated.

  This was so not part of her and Damian’s plan. In fact, they’d decided not to have any children - even considered Damian getting snipped just in case Audrey’s uterus un-tipped itself and her ovulation cycle got with the program.

  Nice idea, but like her, now a bit late.

  And oh boy — having a baby — was also definitely not her handlers’ plans for them either. They’d crap big-time.

  Wandering down the hall toward Damian’s kitchen, she swore she felt something move inside her abdomen. Spotting the Sweet Destiny bakery bag filled with two of Jules’ new low-carb bagels, she blamed the pangs on hunger. She hadn’t eaten much all day. Nothing sounded good anymore.

  She licked her lips then nipped on the bottom one a bit, contemplating devouring the tasty treats. Jules wasn’t just the best pastry chef around and one helluva event planner, but was also like a sister to Audrey and had been since their preschool playdates in Central Park.

  She couldn’t disappoint Jules by not trying her latest creation. And now that she was eating for two, Audrey reasoned, she could probably get away with more than her two-bite rule. Perhaps she’d discovered the first lifestyle-plus from her test stick-pluses.

  Pouring herself a glass of soy milk, she then took a Dutch Apple Delight out of the bag.

  Letting her mouth sink into and her taste buds savor the crumbled cinnamon top crunch, Audrey started worrying about disappointing her other best friend Roxy.

  Audrey had yet to unpack from their trip to Pennsylvania where they’d taken Roxy’s belt buckles to the USA’s home-shopping mecca. What they’d hoped would be a decent debut on HSQ, the premiere home shopping channel, had ended up a complete sell-out with a huge wait-list-only order to fill.

  Roxy was thrilled.

  Audrey was thrilled…but now petrified.

  The network wanted them to sign a contract for a semi-exclusive on Roxy’s Raeve boutique apparel. They also wanted Raeve to become part of their fashion line-up each season as well as do additional shows for special collections as they produced them.

  How could Audrey manage production and promotion for Raeve while also producing a baby? Oh yeah, and do all this, while carefully continuing to conceal her real identity?

  With half the bagel gone, and seriously fighting the urge to go for the second half, she backed off her disturbing brain feeds along with the delicious bread. She re-wrapped the left-over half in the Sweet Destiny-imprinted wax paper she’d had made for Jules and secured the bagel back in the bag and out of sight.

  Eating for two was going to be a bad, bad deal. She loved sweets way too much to deprive her child, but she couldn’t indulge like this if she wanted to
ward off the extra weight and the horrid past stuck to much deeper than her hips.

  In order to continue to cover-up for her friend, Roxy would now have to branch out into maternity wear. But Audrey hoped to save her from a plus-size line too.

  She plopped onto the sofa and curled-up her legs underneath her. She stared out the great room’s floor-to-ceiling windows at the dark gray cloud cover. It was about to snow.

  Always thinking there was something magical about snow, she hoped what she had to tell Damian today wouldn’t take that magic away. Every time, from this moment on, when she caught a glimpse of the makings of a winter wonderland, even Southern style where that usually meant an inch of precipitation at the most, she didn’t want to be reminded of disappointing the man she loved more than life itself.

  At least Jules was happy for her. And Roxy would be too. Sure they would worry, probably more than they’d let on, but they’d be strong and smother her with love and support.

  She’d been sooo lucky to have them help chase away the clouds in her life. And as of late, those mountain-sized suckers had been major big ass bursts, anything but the light and fluffy bastards she’d marveled at as a child spending lazy summer days in The Hamptons.

  She’d been luckier still though to find the man who completed her, a guy who had a knack for replacing her clouds with nothin’ but sunshine.

  Talk about luck, her kid would be the lucky one in parts, but sooo not lucky - at all - in other areas. Cursed was more like it.

  With Jules and Roxy for aunts, he or she would be the envy of the playdate world. They’d have the best birthday parties in Nashville from Jules’ bakery, a killer wardrobe from Roxy’s new children’s clothing and accessory collection, plus, fabulous uncles thanks to Jules’ and Roxy’s beaus who were also Damian’s best buds Cody and Zayne.

  And with Damian to call ‘Dad’, Audrey’s son or daughter would be blessed with the unconditional love their daddy always showered on their mom.

  But the child — she and Damian’s little bundle of love — would have one huge burden to bear.

  Audrey’s stomach pitched and rolled. Maybe from the extra bites of bagel. Maybe from the baby. But probably from the fret of telling Damian he was going to be a daddy amidst all the other crap she’d already laid on him.

  How in the hell was she going to tell him?

  Heat warmed her cheeks as if she were leaning over Jules’ oven taking in a tasty sample. But this time it was her oven that was full.

  She shook her head and played with the fringe on the closest pillow, hoping that the absent-minded movement would make her brain kick into idea generation mode.

  It wasn’t just how she was going to tell Damian about their little surprise…when should she tell him?

  He should have been the first to know, and she’d already blown that by calling Jules.

  But damn, she’d needed to hear Jules sweet reassurance that everything would somehow be okay. And now, she’d really love to hear Roxy’s ideas on what to say and when.

  Even though, she’d have to first listen to Roxy’s emotional rants, her somewhat twisted friend would have some far-out idea how to tell Damian the news.

  Would it hurt Damian’s feelings that she’d had to consult Roxy too in order to gather the courage to spill the news?

  It would hurt him.

  But he was already going to be hurt by the news itself, so at least, Audrey figured, she and Roxy could come up with a way to make it more palatable.

  ‘Course she could swear the girls to super secrecy. And that would work for Jules. But Roxy could never keep her perfectly-shaped, potty mouth shut. She’d let it slip. By complete accident. But that cat wouldn’t be in the bag long enough to be deprived of air.

  Okay. She’d go ahead and call Roxy too. But she’d have to level with Damian that she’d talked to the girls first, hoping he’d understand.

  She called Roxy, waiting for what felt like forever for her to answer.

  “Hey, there, Rox. So, I guess we’re down to the how I’m going to tell Damian part,” she said, waiting for Roxy to fly the crazy coop she claimed was normal.

  According to the clock on the microwave, the “when” appeared to be only two hours away. By then, Damian should be home from the hardware store.

  Several expletives later, Roxy ended the initial onslaught with a desperate sigh followed by a dramatic, “Well, doesn’t that just suck?”

  “You’re enthusiasm really is overwhelming, Rox. Thank you for that,” Audrey said, knowing her friend meant well, but totally getting why she hadn’t dialed her first.

  She’d like to have waited longer before calling her, ‘til she had her own mind wrapped around the parenthood concept. But she knew, without a doubt, she couldn’t hide her apprehension from Jules and Roxy, and from Damian either, for that matter.

  Just like her two best girlfriends, Damian was always in sync with and tuned into her psyche. One of the things about him she’d fallen in love with. The man “got her”. Both of the “hers”.

  He understood what made her tick. And he still loved her — quirks, worry warts, obsessions, neurotic tendencies, insatiable drives, and family history included.

  She wasn’t afraid of losing him on account of the baby. She just didn’t want to disappoint him or bring him anything but happiness. Something — on account of her current situation — most days already seemed impossible.

  A baby wouldn’t be Damian’s idea of a bundle of joy. Far — and she meant far - from it.

  Was there any way she could lessen the blow?

  C’mon. Think. You’re the marketing guru. Sell the concept. Make it a must-have item…an auto-buy.

  This would be the toughest sell of her life.

  She needed a gimmick.

  “So you got any creative ideas on how I’m supposed to let this one out of the bag?” She asked, almost afraid of the sure-to-be-zany approach Roxy would come up with.

  Needing to stretch her overwhelmed and stress-wearied body, Audrey got up from the sofa. The belt buckle she’d chosen from the private label Raeve collection cut into her bagel-bloated belly, making relaxing on the couch, not quite relaxing enough.

  Wishing she could keep blaming the bagels for her stomach woes, Audrey unfastened and removed the belt. As the crystals embedded in the silver buckle reflected the beams from the track lights lining the ceiling, an idea sparked.

  That’s it, she thought. She had just what she needed in her suitcase.

  “Never mind, Rox. I got it. Gotta go,” she said, disconnecting their call while Roxy was still rambling.

  Thank goodness for small miracles.

  Chapter Two

  Damian Baker turned his Jeep into the long lane leading back through the woods fronting his property. He’d cut the lane himself, enjoying the way it curved and ambled amidst the dense trees and undergrowth.

  His eight acres of southern heaven were scenic all year long. But now, layered with the winter’s fresh-fallen snow, they outdid themselves.

  Judging by the heavy, dark clouds propped up by the barren tree tops, they were in for a good winter storm and a ton more of Mother Nature’s magic.

  Rounding the last bend before he could see the home he’d built thirteen years ago, he saw Audrey’s vintage Jaguar in front of his garage. His stomach tightened then turned flips.

  The woman drove him crazy, but in the best ways. She was a never-ending, sexy-as-all-hell surprise package. With feminine curves in all the right places and a mind that never quit, she both amazed and amused him. Having her in his life was proving to be as rewarding as it was challenging.

  Pressing the button on the control anchored to his sun visor, he waited for the garage door to open.

  With inclement weather forecasted and obviously about to hammer them, he was a tad peeved she hadn’t pulled her car into the garage. He’d repeatedly invited her to do so and made a mental note to get her keys and get it done. Why she still thought that using the garage was invading hi
s space was beyond him.

  Invasion his ass. This summer, for Christ’s sake, he’d started building their dream home at the back of the property. Yeah, he had a ways to go before it was livable, so technically he supposed they didn’t live together yet. But they might as well be. They spent most of their time here, at his home, so they’d be close to the construction site. Well…and who was he kidding. Having Audrey here with him meant he could better protect her.

  But she still wouldn’t use his garage. Women.

  She’d sure as hell better use the four-car, attached garage he built for the new house or else he would be pissed.

  If she didn’t, she’d be cleaning off her own car. Yeah. Like he’d let that happen.

  No love of his life would be braving the harsh, winter elements, even though those elements were rather rare in Tennesee — or the spring rain for that matter - while his ass was warm and cozy inside the house.

  Getting out of the car and walking toward the mudroom door, he smelled meatloaf. Damn. She was a good woman. And so was her meatloaf. She didn’t have a huge repertoire in the kitchen, but what she did make was fantastic.

  He did most of the cooking which was fine. He enjoyed it and knew his way around the kitchen. Besides, Audrey worked way too hard running her marketing business to worry about what was for supper. She was a career-driven woman. Not a domestic goddess. And Damian was good with that. Actually, he preferred it.

  After taking off his dirt-packed boots, he followed his nose into the kitchen, a tad surprised Audrey hadn’t hooked up with him in the mudroom. Usually when she heard the garage door, she was waiting for him. Something he’d learned to look forward to.

  Not finding her in the kitchen either, Damian’s stomach lurched. Now he was worried. Where was she? Was everything okay? Or had something from her past reared its ugly head again?

  And, if that were the case, so help the S.O.B. responsible this time. Damian was tired of watching Audrey take hits for her family’s fuck ups.