ROMANCE: BAD BOY ROMANCE: M.V.B. - Most Valuable Baby (Sports Secret Baby Romance) (Contemporary Interracial Pregnancy Romance)

by Lexi Ward

  He blew out a taut breath. “My trailer. I was suggesting you should stay there, but it is too cramp and dirty and—” He shook his head. “You can stay at my parents’ estate. Mom even still has a few maids and cooks who can take care of you right.”

  Frankie smiled, touched. “Thank you, but that really isn’t necessary. I’ve never…I’d be weird around the help, trust me.”

  “You can be as weird as you want. You’re with child.”

  “Good to know.”

  He smirked, glancing at her. Those green eyes—lighting up, aimed at her—

  Frankie’s breath caught in her throat.

  “I’m serious,” he continued, though his tone expression bemusement. “Don’t hesitate to ask for whatever you want or need.”

  “You’re so sweet. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He returned his gaze to the road. “I’ll drive back to my parents’ place.”

  “Hotel,” she said, tone too gentle to be insistent.

  “Alright, alright, hotel. You’ll give me your number though, right?”

  “Yeah, of course I will.”

  “Good.”

  Frankie nodded, mesmerized by him. After a few seconds, she forced herself to look away and think about something else. Cockroaches, asphalt, rotten apples—

  She thought she could very well fall in love with Hanes Copper. Which would be perfect, but only if he fell for her, too. And that might not happen. After what happened with Jack…

  Frankie closed her eyes, her fingers brushing over her lower belly.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  A week came and went, and Frankie remained here in town—in a hotel, but still. If she ever planned on going back to New York, she never told Hanes about it. But the more he spoke with her—the more time he spent with her—the more he got the impression that she wasn’t leaving anytime soon. Maybe she had initially planned so, but now…

  “You greedy bastard!” Thomas shouted, barging into their parents’ manor like he owned the place.

  How Thomas had known Hanes was sitting in the front room was beyond him. The curtains to the front windows were drawn, and Hanes had only arrived a few minutes ago to retrieve the pregnancy books his mother had gotten him and Frankie. Luckily, the old woman was searching for the other things she had bought for her future grandchild, otherwise, Thomas’s abrupt and loud entrance might have given her a heart attack. Still, it wasn’t as if there wasn’t a woman present.

  Hanes set aside the pregnancy book he had been glancing through and pointedly glanced at Gina, who held her own book while glaring at Thomas.

  “Good morning to you, too,” Hanes said. “Did mom know you were coming? You really should call before you—”

  “What’d you do?!” Thomas spat, striding up to Hanes and hovering over him. “Knock up the first woman you saw, or did you have to sleep with a bunch of them and hope for the best?”

  Rage grew at a slow pace beneath Hanes’s clavicle—the contradictory nature of the sensation tickled his blood and made his head burn. He glared up at his brother and tried—tried—not to punch his gut. Hanes clenched his fists despite himself.

  “Don’t be an ass, Tommy,” Gina said. “She was pregnant before Hanes knew about the will.”

  Hanes refrained himself from rolling his eyes. Nosy Gina, always so helpful.

  Thomas scoffed and strode away. “Typical! Just typical! The spoiled brat of the family gets everything. Didn’t take dad to be so vindictive.”

  Hanes stood up. “Do not talk about him like that.”

  “He was my dad, too, you know. I can talk about him however I want. Just because you were the favorite, doesn’t mean the rest of us meant nothing to him.”

  Hanes pinched the bridge of his nose. Rage continued to pulsate throughout him—searing, ripping—he could barely breathe. He wanted to fight, to defend, to do something other than stand there and deal with the same old crap.

  Thomas huffed. “You never even cared about the business. You think you’ll be able to keep it afloat?”

  “I don’t want it! You take it.”

  Thomas’s expression brightened. “Really? You mean it?” His lips spread wide before Hanes could fully confirm himself. “Fantastic! Let’s get that in writing, just to be safe.”

  Hanes groaned as Thomas hurried all about in search of a pen and paper.

  “I’m going to go see Frankie,” Hanes whispered to Gina, even as they both continued to glare at a frenzied Thomas. “Can you handle him?”

  “Mom will. She’s been dealing with all of them since they found out you’re a daddy.”

  “God bless her,” Hanes said. Shaking his head once at his brother, he quickly left the manor and made his way to Frankie’s hotel room.

  “I make a lot of money from it,” Frankie said when he asked her about accounting. She sat in her hotel room, a cup of decaffeinated tea in her delicate hands. She raised it to her lips and slurped quietly. “I was eager to leave home as soon as possible, so…”

  Hanes sat in the chair across from her. The table in between them was so small that resting his arm on it took up half of the surface’s space. A part of him itched to reach out to her—to touch her arm. She just looked…sophisticated, beautiful. And she was so sweet, her laughter often eliciting his own.

  “What about you?” she asked, lowering her tea. Her arm was inches away from his hand now. “Why did you get into bull-riding.”

  Wistful, Hanes smiled. “I did it ever since I was a kid. I like the rush, the challenge…it’s an all-encompassing escape.”

  “It’s dangerous.”

  “Very,” he said, his smile widening.

  Frankie smiled back at him. “Well, I guess experience helps keep you safe. And you love it, so it’s worth the risks.” She canted her head to the side, her gaze going distant. “I can’t really understand that. I’ve been so timid all my life…” She shrugged before taking another sip of tea.

  Fond amusement bloomed inside of him. “You worried about me, darling? Because I assure you, I can take care of myself.”

  “Yeah, I know. I didn’t mean to sound like—I mean, you’re very capable of—” She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. “There I go again. You know what I mean, don’t you?”

  “I do,” he said with his voice much more tender than he had meant it to be. But he felt like he understood Frankie on so many levels now, and that fact made his heart beat funny—out of tune yet just right; it was blissful and messy, and he hoped his heart would always beat this way. “And I’m flattered. Truly. In fact, I can’t help but worry about you, too. Sometimes.”

  Frankie blushed. “Oh, I’m alright. Especially with all of those doctor appointments you and your family have been paying for.”

  “Well, of course.”

  “I have good insurance, you know.”

  “So do we.”

  She took another sip of her tea, her eyes shining with amusement and…delight? Happiness? Hanes sure hope so.

  “You sure you don’t want anything to drink?” she asked, lowering her tea again. “I know you don’t like tea, but there’s coffee here. Or water.”

  That sparked an idea in Hanes. “Why don’t we go out tonight? Get some dinner? I bet in all the time you’ve been here, you haven’t had a real barbecued meal.”

  Frankie eyelid’s lowered, nearly closing completely. She tilted her head to the side and released a groan-filled breath. “No, but…” She shook her head and shrugged. “You know, why not? I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

  The she had groaned—the way she spoke—Hanes heated up a bit from her voice. Quickly, he did his best to shake it off. “It will be. I promise.” He stood and offered her his hand.

  Frankie glanced between his hand and his face for a few awkward seconds. Then she put her tea on the table before grabbing his fingers.

  He beamed back at her when she did.

  He drove her to his favorite bar in town: Pinkerton May’s Bar and Grill. It was packed with pe
ople, lit in just right way as to convey an orange glow to the place, and the music was loud enough to encase his entire being but not give him a headache.

  Arm around his lady, he led her inside and glanced at her.

  Her eyes darted about—clearly curious—but she was otherwise impassive. It would have bothered him, except for the fact that she continued to lean close against him. Even if she didn’t care about the setting, she liked being by him.

  The thought was more pleasing than he wanted to admit.

  He guided her to booth, and then the two of them took their seats across from one another. As tempted as he was to sit beside her, it was perhaps too forward. Then again, she was a city girl. Maybe being forward was how to win her heart.

  Hanes nearly laughed at the idea. Him acting like someone else to impress a woman? Dear Lord, that hadn’t happened in years.

  A waitress was quick to hand them some menus. Hanes tilted his head and thanked her.

  “What do you recommend?” Frankie asked over the music, the waitress not hearing it and leaving them in a hurry. Frankie laughed and faced Hanes. “Well, what do YOU recommend?”

  He picked up his menu, his eyes skimming over it in a quick search for something the lady would like. His face brightened when he found it. “Do you like pork?”

  “I love it.”

  If he weren’t a man, he would have swooned. A woman after his own heart.

  She laughed, her eyes darting to the table. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Can’t help it,” he said, just noticing the strange smile on his face—the slight soreness in his cheeks. “You’re mesmerizing.”

  “Stop,” she giggled out, blushing harder.

  Lovely, he thought with sincerity. So lovely.

  They ate, they talked, they laughed—he even got her to dance a little with him, though she was quick to shake her head and snake her way back into the booth.

  He spread out his arms, mock hurt on his face. “What? Come on now.” Despite the heat in the air, his torso felt a strange chill at her absence.

  Frankie giggled and shook her head. “No, no, I can’t. That little jig—or whatever it was—is all your getting.”

  He relented, the memory of her close to him—moving her body goofily—fresh on his mind. He held on to it, his eyes locked on her.

  If he didn’t know any better, he would think he was falling in love.

  He drove her back to the hotel, and then walked her to her door. Hotel or not, it was only proper to see a lady safely back to her place of residence.

  When she asked him if he wanted to come in, he couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to.

  “Tonight was so much fun,” she said, sitting on top of the bed. Her eyes softened as she regarded him, standing awkwardly in front of her. “Thank you so much. I’ve been so stressed about the baby, about work, and everything. Tonight was really nice.”

  Triumph soared through him. “You’re welcome. I had a lot of fun, too.” He glanced at the empty space beside her, but for some reason, a shot of nervousness held him back. He shuffled on his feet as he tried to get himself to move forward—to say or do something to charm her and fully win her over.

  “You can sit down,” Frankie said, patting the bed. “I’d offer you water or something, but seeing as how that went last time—” She shrugged.

  Hanes still found himself hesitating before he finally managed to move and sit beside her. Relief and warmth flooded through him, his shoulder brushing against hers.

  “You okay?” she asked, brow furrowed. “I’ve never seen you so quiet before.”

  A startled chortle burst out of him. “You saying I’m chatty?”

  “No! Of course not. I’m just a little worried. Not that I need to be, I know, but I mean—”

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek. It was a jagged motion, her jaw moving too quickly as she spoke and his aim a bit off, but it still felt wonderful. His nervousness returned in fold, making his limbs feel too heavy and clumsy, but something pleasant was also rushing through him.

  She gaped at him.

  Hanes beamed, eyes hooded. “I’ve been trying to work up the courage to do that. Well, not even that. I really want to kiss you proper, but…only if you want me to.” He leaned forward, daring nature returning. “Do you?”

  For a split-second it took for her to respond, dread formed in the pit of Hanes’s stomach.

  And then she was the one to kiss him proper, her soft lips pressing against his.

  He lost sense of himself in that moment. His entire body worked on its own accord—his arms wrapping around her, his mouth opening a little to taste her. When he felt her hands on his thigh and side, he shivered.

  Even her lightest touches were perfection.

  They dragged one another down to the bed, but he made his way on top of her—she sliding beneath him.

  He kissed her jaw and then her neck—tasting more of her. His head spun, heat and love coursing through him in unison. It was overwhelming yet not enough. He wanted more. He needed more.

  Frankie slithered out of her clothes. As his gaze roamed her body, becoming more naked by the second, he got out of his own clothing.

  Her breasts pressed against his chest, he shuddered. His mouth found its way to her neck again. He sucked and kissed various spots on her, writing and gasping. The soft friction between them was tantalizing yet pure—everything he never even dreamed of having.

  She shakily reached for his member.

  Hanes didn’t think; he leaned into her touch and urged her to grip tighter. When she did, he jolted as a spike of pleasure shot through his blood.

  Frankie was gentle as she guided his already hard member to her southern wet lips. He rubbed his tip over her, making them both moan. Then, with obvious hesitance, she released him.

  Hanes instantly slid himself inside of her. He felt connected to her—anticipated her wants, aware of her pleasure.

  He thrust in and out of her. He became harder. She became wetter.

  Frankie threw her head back and arched her chest toward him, his name escaping her lips in breathy whines.

  Hanes’s hands gripped the covers on either side of her body. He continued to pound into her—to feel her—his pleasure rising higher and higher within him.

  When his orgasm hit, everything went white. He knew nothing but ecstasy and her voice, crying out his name.

  Nothing had been so perfect in his life. Not a damn thing.

  CHAPTER NINE

  To say that they were dating sounded right to her, already carrying his child and what not, but she supposed that was technically what they had been doing all along. Going out, spending time with each other, learning about one another—

  So when he asked her to join him in a family dinner his mother had scheduled out, Frankie didn’t hesitate to agree. After all, she had already met his family, and the child she was carrying was related to them. It seemed appropriate.

  But when the dinner came, she was full of dreadful regret.

  In her best dress, sitting at the biggest and fanciest table she had ever seen, Frankie felt out of place amidst the Copper family. Everyone around her—white cowboys and cowgirls—kept shooting her and her stomach glares. Well, all except for Gina and Hanes’s mother, who just gawked at Frankie like she was an alien or something.

  The plate of food in front of Frankie tasted too greasy yet too ashy. She wasn’t even sure how that was possible, but she surmised her pregnancy was making her taste buds faulty.

  Hanes could clearly sense the tension, too, for he kept glaring back at his siblings who glared at her. But his plate was already empty, so perhaps the food wasn’t as bad as she was thinking.

  Frankie glanced at around, sweat seeping out of the back of her neck. Were these people…racist? The mere thought was nauseating, and she didn’t want to believe it.

  She took another bite of—what was supposed to be—mashed potatoes and smiled at Hanes’s mother, who intensely stared back at
her.

  “So,” Gina said. She pushed her own empty plate away from herself before crossing her arms. “We talked about the food, the weather—we said hello to one another. Surely we can think of another topic to talk about.”

  Frankie couldn’t think of one. In her frazzled mind, she just wanted to come up with an excuse to leave.

  “Sure thing,” Hane’s brother Thomas said, scoffing and dropping his fork to his plate. “Why don’t we talk about the elephant in the room?”

  “That’s not why I scheduled this,” their mother snapped, her palms slapping against the table. “We are here to be a family, and not discuss business.”