Shot Caller (A Bad Boy's Baby Novel)

by Masters, Colleen

  “You’ve been seeing this woman for over a month now, yeah?” she asks.

  “Yeah, and?”

  “And you haven’t slept with anyone else since starting things with her?”

  “No,” I admit, “No, I haven’t.”

  “And now you’ve come out as a couple to the world.”

  “Under duress!” I point out.

  “That’s beside the point!” Rosie replies, a smug smile spreading across her face, “You, my dear brother, are in a relationship with this woman. Like it or not, you are dating her. Which means you need to get off your arse and take her on a proper date before she dumps your idiotic, romantically-challenged arse.”

  I stare back at my sister, weighing my options.

  “Do I really have to?” I ask through gritted teeth.

  “Bloody impossible,” Rosie mutters, knocking back her vodka and holding out her hand, “Give me your credit card, dummy. I’ll plan the best first date Poppy could possibly imagine. I’ll do all the legwork, all you have to do is show up.”

  “Fine,” I mutter, thrusting my platinum credit card my sister’s way, “Just make it as painless as possible for me, yeah? No carriage rides. No rose petals. Nothing that’s gonna make my balls fall off.”

  “Don’t worry,” Rosie says, giving me a pat on the head, “Your fragile masculinity is safe with me, bro.”

  “I’ll believe that when I see it,” I grumble, turning the game back on as Rosie goes off to plan my first date with Poppy.

  Better her than me.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Poppy

  I’m due at Maddox’s hotel in just a couple of hours to start my solo spa day. A nice gesture on his part, but not exactly what I was hoping for from my maybe-baby daddy. After this insane week of paparazzi, gossip, and flashing cameras, all I wanted was to feel as close to Mad as he pretends we are in front of the press.

  How is it that coming out as a couple has made me feel more separated from him than ever? Especially given that we may very well be connected in the most intimate way possible right at this very minute. It’s been two weeks since I should have gotten my period. I can finally put my suspicions to the test.

  And speaking of tests…

  I sit on the edge of my bathtub, eyes glued to the thin plastic stick balancing on the edge of the counter. After performing the awkward task of peeing on the end of said stick, I’m just now waiting the obligatory two minutes to see what my future holds. I know it’s a cliché, but these two minutes have felt longer than the entire month of my relationship with Maddox. My mind whirls in all directions, playing out different versions of events, trying to figure out which outcome I’m even hoping for. It’s impossible to say.

  At long last, the timer on my cell phone chirps. It’s time. With trembling fingers, I reach across the narrow bathroom and take the pregnancy stick in my hand.

  Whatever happens in the next three seconds, you’ve got this, I coach myself, You’ve been taking care of yourself your entire life. No one’s more capable of handling this than you.

  I take a deep breath and hold it as I bring the test up before my eyes. A little pink plus sign stares innocuously back at me, but the meaning of those two tiny lines sends my heart slamming against my ribcage.

  “Oh my god,” I whisper, “I…I’m pregnant.”

  Even though I’m sitting still, I can feel my entire world reorienting itself around that minuscule pastel cross. It’s like my center of gravity itself has changed. Every minute of my life suddenly feels as though it’s been leading me here, to this moment.

  The question is, what happens next?

  I jump a foot in the air as my cell phone starts to ring. Scrambling to my feet, I snatch up the device as I clutch the positive test in my spare hand. My stomach somersaults as I spot Maddox Walcott’s name on the screen. Holy crap…did he sense what just happened here from across town? Is that even a thing? I don’t know anything about what fathers feel for their unborn children. I barley know what I feel yet. But still, I can’t start screening his calls now.

  “Hey!” I all but yell into the phone, “Hi! Good morning!”

  “Christ, did you pour Red Bull over your Cheerios this morning or something?” Mad laughs at my expense.

  “Just…excited for my spa day,” I tell him, pacing around the bathroom. Am I supposed to just come out and tell him the news? What is the protocol here?

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Mad replies, “Hey, why don’t you just head over now?”

  “Now?” I ask weakly, staring down at the tiny plus sign.

  “Yeah, get an early start,” Mad goes on. His tone is overly exuberant over the phone. What’s going on over there?

  “Um, OK,” I tell him, setting down the test as softly as possible, “I’ll just get some things together and be on my way.”

  “Be sure to pack an overnight bag,” he tells me, “I want you all to myself tonight.”

  Well, you won’t have me all to yourself, I think, laying a hand on my abdomen, from here on out, we’ll have a tiny little chaperone.

  “Will do,” I tell Maddox, trying to keep my voice calm, “See you in a bit.”

  I hang up the phone and set it down on the counter, right next to my positive test. Planting my hands on the counter, I stare into my own reflected eyes in the mirror. It’s not even that I’m surprised by the news that I’m pregnant. Some little part of me knew that I was, long before I took that test. If anything, I’m a little relieved to have some answers. But I can feel a huge wave of uncertainty swelling up to wash that relief away.

  Maddox and I have never once talked about the future beyond what we want for dinner on any given day. Until he hatched this plan with Tucker, we never even talked about ourselves as a couple. He was just a fling. A sexy fuck buddy for the time being. Maddox was never supposed to be a part of my life for the long run, let alone my child’s life.

  “My child,” I breathe, testing out the words, “My child…”

  I need time to think this whole thing through before I tell Maddox what’s going on. With all the media craziness that’s going on, I can’t trust anyone with this information—not even this baby’s father. I owe it to the little life blooming inside of me to make an objective, thought-out decision. After all, It’s not just my future that hangs in the balance anymore.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Maddox

  “That’s your idea for a first date?” I ask incredulously.

  “What’s the problem?” Rosie shrugs, shaking out her long blonde curls, “Poppy’s going to love this.”

  “It’s a little extreme, don’t you think?” I shoot back, grimacing at the stretch limo that’s idling on the curb outside the Tangier.

  “Not after what you’ve put her though with this press tour,” Rosie points out, planting her hands on her hips, “After the week she’s had, you owe Poppy the time of her life.”

  Before I can reply, Rosie starts waving like a mad woman, grinning happily at someone over my shoulder. I turn to see Poppy herself, waking toward us from the parking lot. She’s smiling too, but there’s something forced about it. Maybe this week has been harder on her than I thought. Damn Rosie for being right as ever.

  “Hello, there!” Rosie sings, wrapping her skinny arms around Poppy’s shoulders, “It’s so nice to see you again, love!”

  “Hey Rose,” Poppy replies, shooting me a bewildered look as she hugs my sister back, “I guess you’re not too angry at me and Mad from bending the truth about our relationship, huh?”

  “Are you kidding?” Rosie laughs, “I’m just so glad Mad is dating an upstanding, kickarse lady for once instead of the slags he usually brings around.”

  “Uh. Thank you?” Poppy replies, looking slightly horrified.

  “Excuse my charming little sister,” I say to Poppy, adjusting my bag on my shoulder, “She wasn’t socialized properly as a child.”

  “Eh. Who among us was?” Poppy shrugs, as good a sport as ever. “Hey,
why do you have a bag, too?”

  “Tell her, Mad!” Rosie squeaks, bouncing up and down with excitement.

  “Well,” I begin, laying a hand on the small of Poppy’s back, “I may have bent the truth myself, about my plans for you today.”

  “Oh?” Poppy replies.

  “I know I promised you a day at the spa, but I think I can do you one better,” I go on, nodding at the limo.

  Poppy’s eyes grow wider as she spots the luxurious ride. “Is that for us?!” she exclaims.

  “Yep,” I nod

  “But…Why?” Poppy sputters, as I lead her toward the limo, “Where—?”

  “Don’t ask too many questions,” Rosie grins, “Just have a wonderful couple of days! You deserve it, Poppy.”

  I have to agree with my sister. My girl does deserve this.

  “Bon voyage!” Rosie calls, waving as Poppy and I slide into the limo.

  “Bon voyage?” Poppy says, looking around the decked out ride, “Don’t you only say that to people who are traveling somewhere?”

  “Which terminal are you flying out of?” the limo driver asks me from the front seat. Poppy whips around to face me on the leather seat, her jaw hanging open in surprise.

  “What are you, kidnapping me or something?!” she exclaims.

  “Not quite,” I tell her, having a laugh at her dumbfounded expression, “I just thought it was time for us to go on an actual date.”

  “Air travel has never been part of any date I’ve been on…” she says, smiling excitedly despite her shock.

  “You’ve never dated a star footballer, have you?” I shoot back, slipping my arm around her waist.

  “I wasn’t sure that I was dating one now…” she says softly, looking up at me with her big brown eyes. “We’ve been keeping this thing so casual between us. I guess… I guess I wasn’t really sure where we stood. I mean, I know we’re playing at being a couple for the press, but—”

  “Hey, hey…” I murmur, pulling her close, “There’s no need to panic, babe.”

  “There isn’t?” she laughs ironically.

  “No,” I assure her, “We still don’t need to rush into labels and titles and all that bullshit. I just want you to know that I see us as being together. Whatever we want that to mean.”

  “Together…” she says, resting her head on my shoulder. “I like the sound of that.”

  And the crazy thing is, I like the sound of it too.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Poppy

  If the sight of the limousine threw me for a loop, then the moment that we pull up beside an honest to god private jet sends me clear into orbit. I have to say, this definitely beats a mani-pedi and some cucumber water.

  “Is this for real?” I breathe, stepping out onto the tarmac beside Maddox.

  “That it is,” he says, a satisfied grin playing across his firm lips. “What do you say, Poppy? Do you trust me enough to get onboard?”

  I look up at Maddox, backlit by the setting sun. By now I know his sure, square jaw, deep gray eyes, and confident smile by heart. I hadn’t thought about it until this moment, but I have come to trust him over these past few weeks. Never would I have guessed that the nineteen-year-old boy I knew once upon a time would grow up to be someone I could rely on. But looking back over the past month, I think it’s safe to say that stranger things have happened.

  “Lead the way,” I tell Maddox, lacing my fingers through his.

  Grabbing our bags, we make out way across the tarmac and hop on board the private jet. I’ll give the guy one thing—he knows how to make the best of a day off.

  “Good lord,” I breathe, stepping into the cabin of the jet, “Tell me this isn’t yours.”

  “Just for the next couple days, sadly,” Maddox laughs, running his eyes along the chic interior of the plane. “But who knows? If I manage not to get fired by the end of the season, maybe I’ll pick one up for myself.”

  “You’re not still worried about getting fired, are you?” I ask, making my way along the cabin. “Your maneuver with Tucker has pretty much made you untouchable.”

  “You never know,” Maddox shrugs, “I never would have expected to get booted from the Premier League either. Life is full of surprises.”

  “Don’t I know it,” I mutter, remembering the little pink cross that presented itself to me this morning.

  The pilot pokes his head back into the cabin to let us know we’re clear for takeoff. I settle back into my chair as Maddox strides across the room to a low wooden bar, stocked with every manner of booze you could imagine.

  “Want a little lift-off nip?” he asks, pouring himself a whiskey.

  I’m just about to say the words “yes please” when I suddenly remember my new condition. Shit. How am I going to explain that?

  “Not right this second,” I tell Mad, putting the question off until later.

  “Suit yourself,” he says, settling into the chair next to me. I’m safe, for now. But I can’t keep putting off telling him. How am I supposed to know when the moment is right?

  The jet taxis along the runway for just a short while before picking up steam for lift off. Mad takes my hand as the small vessel speeds along, bearing us off into the sunset together.

  “Are you gonna tell me where we’re headed yet?” I ask him, giving his hand a squeeze as the jet lifts off.

  “Don’t worry about that now,” Mad murmurs, stroking my cheek with his hand as we take off into the bright daylight, “Just be here with me.”

  “I’m here with you,” I whisper, kissing his wide palm, “And I’m so happy that I am.”

  “That makes two of us,” Mad replies, pulling me into his lap.

  My body is pressed back against his as we make our ascent, the force the plane’s takeoff pinning me to Maddox’s broad, staggering body. Not that I wouldn’t be pressing myself to him anyway, of course. His thickly muscled arms encircle me as we soar into the sky together, headed god knows where. But as Mad brings his full, firm lips to mine, guiding his expert hands all over my body, I have to admit that I don’t much care where we’re headed for the moment. They’ll be plenty of that kind of thinking to do in the very near future. For the next couple of days, all I want to do is be in the moment with the incredible, delectable, only sometimes infuriating man.

  “Is this just one big ruse to join the mile-high club?” I tease Maddox, slipping my hands up under his shirt as I straddle him on the cushy chair.

  “I’ve been a member for quite some time,” he laughs.

  “Right,” I say, rolling my eyes as I run my fingers along his impeccable abs, “I forgot that you usually prefer to screw super models on private jets rather than hang out with girls like me.”

  A sudden, searing look crossed Maddox’s face, knocking the sarcasm right out of me.

  “If I wanted to be here with some model, I would be,” he tells me firmly, “But I’m here with you. I want to be here with you. At some point, you’re going to have to trust that.”

  What, is he reading my mind or something? Figuring out just how much I can trust Maddox Walcott is my number one priority, right now.

  “I do. I know you’re telling me truth,” I whisper, taking his face in my hands, “Now could we stop talking so you can initiate me into this club of yours?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he grins, scooping me up in his arms.

  As Maddox carries me into the sleeping quarters in the back of the jet, something tells me that this ten-hour trip is going to zip right by. Time flies when you’re having good, dirty fun.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Maddox

  I have to hand it to Rosie, she did a bloody brilliant job with this whole Epic First Date thing. After fucking for more or less ten hours straight in the back of our private jet, Poppy and I finally land. I’m a bit worried her head is actually going to explode when she realizes where we’ve touched down.

  “Italy?!” she exclaims, her eyes wide as saucers, “You brought me to Italy
on our first official date?!”

  “Go big or go home, right?” I grin, grabbing our bags and headed out into the mild Italian afternoon.

  Another car takes us from the airport right into the heart of Rome. I’ve been to this city plenty of times before, but it’s Poppy’s first time seeing it in all its grandeur. Making our way through the winding streets, we zooming past world-famous landmarks left and right. In no other city I’ve ever visited is it so easy to lose track of the old and the new. Ancient structures sit side-by-side with contemporary architecture, modern men and women walk on the very streets where some of the brightest and darkest days of human history took place.

  All told, it’s a pretty fucking cool place to be.

  The hotel Rosie picked out for us is hardly slacking, either. It’s tucked away in a serene courtyard a stone’s throw from the Pantheon. We make our way through the gilded lobby and up to our expansive room. Flowing white curtains frame two glass-paned door leading out onto the balcony. I love my ocean view back in Atlantic City, but this view is of another order entirely. All of Rome sprawls out before our balcony as Poppy and I step back into the warm afternoon air. For a long moment, it’s all either of us can do to stare in wonder.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Poppy whispers, placing her hand in mind.

  “Which part?” I laugh softly.

  “All of it,” she replies, glancing up at me. I’m surprised to see tears welling up in her brown eyes.

  “Ah, shit,” I mutter, laying my hands on her shoulders, “What’s wrong? It’s too much, isn’t it? Sonofa—”

  “No,” she stops me, resting her hands on my check as her freckled nose crinkles with a wide smile, “No, it’s not too much. I just…I can’t believe it’s all happening to me.”

  “Well, believe it,” I tell her firmly, tucking her light brown hair behind her ear, “And hold onto your knickers, because we’re only just getting started.”

  “My ‘knickers’ are at your command,” she laughs, lifting her lips to mine.