My Surprise Secret Baby (Romance Box Set)

by Lexi Wilson

  What was a little weirder was everyone on the team--and everyone in the cheerleading squad and the rest of the Rangers organization knowing that the star quarterback had knocked up the lead cheerleader.

  It didn’t stay private that I’d been slipping Bama my privates and put a bun in her oven. But a scandal? It was nothing. When people found out, I was more popular than ever. My fan mail was full of congratulations, and a lot of them were for Bama. Everybody wanted to know when “the blessed event” was happening.

  I had an understanding with Quinn and the owners – and the guys from PowerShot – that no matter where I was and what I was doing when the time came, I was out of there and trucking to my fiancée’s side. PowerShot even had a contingency plan: “What to Do if Bama Goes Into Labor During an Event.”

  As luck would have it, the time came not during some public appearance or commercial shoot, but right in the middle of a game.

  It was a home game, at least. When we were playing away, I always had a car and a plane standing by, just in case. It was right after halftime and cheerleaders had just finished up, lead by the new head cheerleader Kira.

  I was taking the field again when the referee whistled at me and pointed to Quinn, who was coming onto the field holding up his phone. He handed the phone to me. It was Bama’s parents. They were on their way to the hospital. Just like that, so was I.

  I had been nervous as hell meeting Mr. and Mrs. Majors for the first time. I was sure my looks and my fame and my money wouldn’t mean crap to them. To her parents, I was scared I’d be nothing but the player who got their little girl in trouble and they’d hate me. And, they were honest with me about their shock and their worry for Bama. But, they didn’t yell at me and they didn’t curse me.

  I promised them I’d marry their daughter and always love her and take care of her. Bama’s father shook my hand, and her mother made me dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Majors and I actually got to be friends. So that pressure, at least, was off.

  Bama and I had gone through that whole Lamaze thing together. It was quite a picture – me, the big, strong NFL quarterback, in childbirth classes with his girlfriend. It was kind of surreal, me being the hottest expectant Dad, and definitely the most famous, in the class. But, I actually got to be friends with some of the guys, all of us being in this thing together.

  Bama’s parents greeted me when I arrived at the hospital. Her mom actually gave me a kiss. I got scrubbed and prepped and into the delivery room, where Bama had her legs in the stirrups and was wailing like a banshee and puffing like a freight train.

  Then, I saw the most incredible thing I’d ever seen in my life. I witnessed our baby – our little girl – coming out of her mother, ready for her daddy’s arms, ready for the world.

  I sat next to the bed, with Bama holding our little girl. She cried and squinted and squirmed and was just the most perfect thing I’d ever seen in my life. I couldn’t believe I’d made this perfect little thing – me, the fuck-around football player. If I never did anything else good in my life, damn it all, I’d done this.

  I kissed Bama and told her, “Damn good job… Damn good job.” I ran my fingers along my baby’s perfect little face, and my face got wet. I would have been embarrassed as hell for the guys on the team to see me at that moment – except, knowing some of them, they would have been crying, too.

  Epilogue

  Bama

  Five years, two children, and one pregnancy later, I had figured out my life.

  My second child was a boy, and I was expecting another boy. Barrett was over the moon. He doted on our daughter and was wrapped around her fingers, the way men with daughters usually are. But, he loved having a son and was ecstatic that another was on the way. He was a great father and a great husband.

  He was so great that when I finally hit on the idea of what I wanted to do for a real, honest-to-goodness career, he whipped out his checkbook and bankrolled the whole thing. Which was how I was now the owner of my own dance studio, with instructors who knew how to teach dances other than what you’d do at halftime in a stadium, and classes full of talented girls and boys.

  Once the pressure and worry of not knowing what the future would be was off of me, it all just clicked into place. And with my very wealthy husband who would do anything for me, it was so much easier than it would have otherwise been.

  Barrett was thirty now (and gorgeous, sexy, and horny as ever), and with the shortness of a football player’s career, he was looking ahead to retirement. Five more years and he expected to step down from leading the Dallas Rangers.

  He and Cole were doing great with the sportswear company, and Barrett had even done some modeling again to promote the line. Half the girls (and I expect some of the boys) in my classes had the big poster that Barrett did with some underwear model guys, all of them posing in underwear and sports gear from his brand. It was one of the hottest, sexiest posters on the market. Naturally, I had a framed copy of my own, which I kept in my office.

  I was the wife of a champion and the mother of a champion’s children. No doubt about it – I, Brianna Majors, had won the Super Bowl of Life.

  Single Mom’s Secret Baby

  Chapter 1

  AMBER

  I’d been a dancer at Diamonds for years. And as much as I had my misgivings about the job, there was never a dull moment.

  Like right then, for example. I was seated in my assigned chair in the dressing room –the one I’d earned by climbing my way to one of the top dancer positions- watching one of the new girls try and figure out where she was supposed to be.

  “I know you didn’t just sit in my damn spot.” Kisha, a tall, bottleblonde with a big set of fake boobs and lips that’d been inflated to balloon size, had her hands on her hips as she stared down at one of the new girls, her heels giving her an even more intimidating height.

  “I…I need to get ready,” said the girl. The new girl, whatever her name was, had big blue eyes, the innocent kind you’d see on a woodland creature in a Disney movie. Her hair was straight and brown, her figure slender.

  She couldn’t have been older than twenty. Everything about her radiated innocence. But if there was one thing Diamonds was good at, it was taking naïve girls eager for some easy money and turning them hard, sucking out that innocence until there was nothing left.

  “Then get your skinny ass out of my chair and get ready someplace else.”

  The other girls in the dressing room laughed, happy to see the newbie get chewed out.

  The girl looked around, her big eyes scanning the room. “But…all the other chairs are taken.”

  Kisha wasn’t swayed by this. “Go to the fucking bathroom then – I don’t give a shit. I earned that chair, and you aren’t coming anywhere near it. Now move!”

  The girl let out a surprised squeal, the other girls laughing again as she scrambled to her feet and tried to find someplace else to go.

  But none of the other girls seemed interested in offering a helping hand. And it was about all the torture I could stand to see inflicted on the poor thing.

  I stood up. “Here,” I said. “Take mine.”

  The girl regarded me with those big blue eyes, as if not sure whether or not it was some kind of trick.

  “…What?”

  “I’m about ready. Go ahead – take my spot.”

  The girl was slender and cute, dressed in a silver micro-mini skirt and a matching bikini top, some black platforms on her tiny feet. Truth be told, it kind of killed me to see a girl like here working at a place like Diamonds. She had “girl next door” written all over that face of hers.

  She approached me hesitantly, like I might pounce at her and shout “boo!” when she got close.

  When she was near, she quickly slid into the seat and looked up at me.

  Kisha, still standing by her chair, scoffed. “I swear, Amber – you’re too soft on these fucking newbies.” Her eyes, along with those of the other dozen girls in the dressing room, were all on me.

&nb
sp; “You were a newbie once, too,” I said. “We all were.”

  “Right,” said Kisha. “And that’s how you learn to toughen up. Not doing Ms. Barely Legal any favors over there holding her hand.”

  “You treat the newbies how you want,” I said. “And I’ll do the same. Got it?”

  Kisha scoffed again. “Whatever. You want to make them think it’s easy to work here, then that’s your business. They’ll learn in time.”

  Silence filled the air of the dressing room, the bass from the EDM music playing on the main floor thudding through the walls at a steady beat.

  Kisha scoffed and shook her head one last time before dropping into her chair and starting her makeup. The spat over, the rest of the girls did the same.

  “Th…thank you,” said the girl, still looking up at me.

  “Don’t worry about it. What’s your name?”

  “Um, Maddie,” she said.

  I laughed. “No, kid – your stage name. And you better not tell me you’re that’s your stage name. ‘Maddie’ isn’t exactly going to inspire the men to bust open their wallets.”

  Her face tinged red. “Oh!” she said. “Um, I hadn’t picked out one yet.”

  “Is that right? First night here at Diamonds, you’re about to go on, and you haven’t picked out a stage name?”

  “Lucien told me I was supposed to, but I just got so, um, overwhelmed with everything. I guess I forgot.”

  I looked her up and down, still in awe of how young and out-of-her-depth she looked. Maddie was pretty, no doubt about that, but with looks that would’ve been more suited to a small-town beauty pageant than the stage at one of the biggest strip clubs in Los Angeles.

  “Well, first thing’s first,” I said. “We need to get your makeup sorted out.”

  “It’s not good?”

  I laughed. “Girlie, not even close. You look like you’re trying to make yourself cute for a date with your upperclassman boyfriend.”

  “Um, my boyfriend is an upperclassman.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “And does he know you’re working here?”

  “No,” she glanced down, as if ashamed of this reveal.

  “Let me ask you something, kid,” I said. “Why the hell are you working here?”

  After I asked the question I set to work on her makeup. She was wearing a little bit of understated eyeliner, some lipstick, and a touch of blush. Maddie was going to need a hell of a lot more than that.

  “Well,” she said, her eyes fixed on her reflection. “I was working at this coffeeshop in Hollywood and Mr. Dupree came in one day and asked me how much money I was making there.”

  Lucien Dupree was the owner of Diamonds, a sleazy man who took pride in having a keen eye for new “talent.” And there was nothing he loved more than to take innocent girls like Maddie and make them, well, not so innocent.

  “Uh huh,” I said, already knowing where the story was going. “And let me guess – he said he could make you a star, really get you out there so the world could appreciate what you have to offer?”

  I knew this because it was the same thing he’d said to be all those years ago, back when I wasn’t much older than Maddie.

  She smiled, blushing. Lucien was a prick, but the man had a way of talking to women that never failed to get them all wrapped around his ring-clad finger.

  “He did. He said I could make tons of money and get famous all at the same time. It’s why I moved here from Iowa.”

  I couldn’t help but smile and shake my head.

  “Kid, I don’t want to be too rough on you, but let me ask you this – is anyone here famous?”

  She looked around, as if a celebrity might’ve been working there that she’d managed to not notice.

  “Um, no.”

  “Hey,” said Shauna, one of the girls getting dressed nearby. “I won that award for pole dancing last year.”

  “I don’t think that’s the kind of ‘famous’ she has in mind, Shauna,” I said with a smirk.

  “Listen,” I said, getting in close and applying some blood-red lipstick to Maddie’s full lips. “Lucien promises girls the world to work here. But I’m going to give it to you straight. You can make some killer money working here – don’t get it twisted. You won’t, however, get famous. You’ll work shitty hours, get pawed on by gross men who know they’re not supposed to be touching you.”

  “But we don’t have to get naked, right?” she asked. “That’s what Lucien said.”

  “We’re a thong-and-bra kind of place, right,” I said. “Classy like that. Don’t ask me what some of the other girls get up to in their personal time – that’s a whole other matter. But being thong-and-bra doesn’t mean you don’t have to deal with sleazeball men.”

  “I…see.”

  “And something else – your upperclassman boyfriend. Tell me about him.”

  She smiled broadly in that googly-eyed, cute way only a girl who was totally in love and hadn’t had her heart broken yet could smile.

  “His name’s Carter. And he’s so handsome. And he’s funny. And he’s the second-string wide receiver for the Bruins.”

  “A UCLA guy, huh? Sounds like a real catch.”

  “He so is.”

  “You want to marry this guy some day?”

  “Of course I do. And have lots of babies.”

  After finishing up the lipstick, I started on the blush, adding enough to take her look from “coy and surprised” to “in the middle of coming.”

  “And he doesn’t know about this.”

  “No. I don’t have a scholarship like him, so I have to pay for college somehow.”

  “I’m going to be straight with you – guys like that aren’t all that interested in stripper girlfriends.”

  Shauna piped up. “I don’t know about that,” she said with a grin.

  “Let me rephrase – they’re not interested in marrying stripper girlfriends. When you get into this lifestyle, the kinds of men you run around with are going to change. Fewer ‘all-American football players’ and more sleazy lowlifes who want to see how much they can get away with.”

  “Are you saying he’s going to break up with me if he finds out?” She was worried.

  “I don’t know the guy, so who knows? All I’m saying is this gig’s going to take you places you never thought it would. And you might look up one day, the thrill of the money and the attention wearing off, and not recognize the life you’ve made for yourself.”

  “O...Oh.”

  I put the fishing touches on her makeup.

  “Perfect. You’re all set. Now, you’re going to have your first night out there. Remember – don’t take any shit. Some guy tries to touch you, get one of the bouncers. And if someone wants to pay you for a private after-hours dance, remember that he’s going to be expecting more than ‘dancing’.”

  Her eyes were wide, as if she’d realized in that moment she’d gotten in over her head.

  Good. It was exactly what I wanted.

  Before the conversation could go on, the door opened and Sean, one of the interchangeable fridge-shaped bouncers, stepped inside.

  “Ariel!” he said, looking at me. “You’re up!’

  “Ariel,” said Maddie. “Is that your stage name?”

  I grinned. “Red hair,” I said, grabbing a handful of my red curls. “Like the little mermaid.” I looked her up and down, focusing on those big, blue eyes. “And you’re Sapphire. Thank me later.”

  With that, I was on my way.

  Well, almost. Kisha stood by the door, her arms crossed under her big, fake boobs and her eyes locked onto me.

  “What the hell are you doing with that girl?” she asked. “Trying to scare her off?”

  “Nope. Just giving her the honest run-down of the place.”

  “You ought to keep it to yourself. If Lucien found out what you were saying to the newbies…”

  “If he’s got a problem, he can tell me himself.”

  “Maybe he will.”

  I cocked
my head to the side, confused. “What?”

  “He told me to tell you to come to his office after your dance. Said he had something important to talk to you about.”

  “Did he say what?”

  She grinned, sensing I was antsy about it. “Nope. But have fun. I’m sure he’s only got good things to say.”

  Sean flicked his chin up toward me. “Yo, Ariel! Move it!”

  “Hey,” I said, blasting past Kisha and toward the door. “Take that tone with me again and you’re going to get your little balls snipped off with these press-ons.” I made a snip-snip motion with my fake nails, the rest of the girls laughing as I left the room.

  Then I was in the hallway, the lights low as I got my game face on, making my way to the stage. Once I reached backstage, the EDM music loud and thumping all around me, I took a breath and readied myself.

  “Alllllllright, boys,” said the DJ, whatever jackass they had spinning tracks that night. “This next girl’s going to be a blast of cool, cool water – a little treat from under the sea. You’ve seen the Little Mermaid before, but you’ve never seen her quite like this! Feast your eyes on Ariel!”

  With that, I stepped out on stage.

  Diamonds was awash in purple neon light, the T-shaped stage shooting out into the packed crowd of rowdy men. They cheered as I took the stage, sticking out my ample breasts and swaying my hips to the beat of the music.

  The next hour passed in a blur. I was good –damn good- at my job and was soon in the zone. I knew how to work those men, how to dance and tease and do whatever it took to separate them from their money.

  A few tried to get grabby, sure, thinking my lapdances were an invitation to touch and grab. A playful “nice try” along with a finger-wag was usually enough, but a few needed a hard look from whatever bouncer was nearby in order to really get it in their heads.