Risky (Unexpected Lovers Book 4)

by JB Heller

  I have all this because of him.

  Last night, two things became abundantly clear to me. One, I’m in love with Tia. And two, I want to see her holding our baby in her arms someday.

  Both of which scare the absolute shit out of me. A huge part of me wants to shut that shit down right now before it has a chance to dig its claws into my very soul. Lock it away and pretend like I’m completely immune to her and everything she represents.

  I’ve only ever been in love once, and that was with Lila. Kacey was just part of the package—I cared for her, but I didn’t love her. And the love I felt for Lila wasn’t the same as this. This is something altogether different, but it’s consuming me the same way.

  An image of Tia with a rounded belly and a beautiful smile on her face fills my mind, and I can’t push it away. I want it, almost desperately.

  Before Lila, I didn’t think I wanted crotch goblins of my own. After Lila, I definitely didn’t want them. There’s no way I could handle going through anything remotely like that again. But seeing Tia cradling baby Darcy to her chest, the tender smile tipping her lips, and the adoration shining in her eyes… Yeah, I want it.

  I’ve never been one to question myself, and I don’t plan on starting now.

  Tia isn’t like anyone I’ve ever known. She’s compassionate, empathetic, selfless, generous, and kind. I could wax poetic about her admirable traits all day long, but that won’t help me convince her to be with me for real.

  And therein lies the problem. I haven’t done a damn thing in my life that makes me worthy of her. I run a hand through my hair then down my face. My temples pulse with an incoming headache, making me groan. I didn’t even drink last night, meaning this headache was brought on from the tension radiating through my body.

  I don’t know where to begin when it comes to Tia. I want to be good enough for her, because the alternative is not having her, and that’s not acceptable. I refuse to even contemplate it.

  Rolling out of bed, I have a quick shower then run some product through my hair to tame my curls before perusing the contents of my wardrobe. I settle on a pair of dark-wash jeans, a black polo, and my favorite pair of red chucks. Giving myself a onceover in the mirror, I nod at my reflection. I might feel like shit, but I look good.

  In the kitchen, I down a couple of painkillers and make myself a coffee. I’ve got an appearance at the children’s hospital this morning, and I need to be at my best for the kids. I try visit at least a handful of times during the off season.

  After stopping in with the kids this morning, I’m off to shoot a commercial for one of my sponsors. I like keeping busy in my downtime. But I’m looking forward to kicking back in Vegas next weekend. Relaxation isn’t exactly the first thing that comes to mind when I think about Vegas, but Lenny assures me that’s what we’ll be doing.

  Daiquiris by the pool, massages, catching a show or two, and a trip out to the Grand Canyon. Len says it’ll help prove that just because there’s a party, doesn’t mean Bates Handler has to be a part of it. And that I’m a grown-ass man who can show restraint and self-control. Or some shit like that.

  I’ve honestly not felt much like drinking since the arrangement came into play. I still have a couple of beers here and there, but nothing like what I was consuming before.

  I’m putting that down to Tia’s influence. The more time I spend with her, the less I need to drink in order to numb the pain that’s always simmering just below my surface. Her presence has always had a calming effect on me, but now it gives me hope too. She gives me hope.

  It’s time I start showing her what a good match we are.

  Tia and I have been going out for lunches and dinners a couple of times a week since we started this ruse. Lennon makes sure to tip off a few paps about where Tia and I will be to give further validation to our relationship. Now, when you Google either of us, pages and pages of images of the two of us appear.

  While I enjoyed that time with her, today feels different. Today is real.

  I take her hand across the table, running my thumb over her knuckles. “You look beautiful today, babe,” I tell her, my gaze running over every inch of her pretty face. My fingers itch to run through her rich brown locks hanging in big, loose curls around her shoulders.

  A cute pink blush coats her cheeks, and I fucking love it. She smiles and drops her chin, averting her eyes from me. “Thank you,” she whispers.

  “I don’t tell you that enough,” I confess. “I’ve always thought it. You’re one of the most stunning women I’ve ever seen.”

  Her gaze darts back up to mine, wide with shock. “Wh-what?”

  “I think it’s your eyes; they’re incredible. I could stare into them all day.”

  Her blush intensifies, and she blinks rapidly. “I—umm,” she mumbles. “I don’t know what to say.”

  I shrug. “You don’t have to say anything. I just thought you should know.”

  She swallows then draws the corner of her lip between her teeth, the way she does when she’s nervous. I ache to tug it free. Part of Tia’s appeal is that she doesn’t realize how striking she is. Her beauty is effortless.

  When our food arrives, I release her hand, and we eat in companionable silence. She casts curious glances at me periodically but remains quiet. I can’t help but grin every time she does it.

  “What?” I ask, pushing my empty plate to the side.

  “Nothing,” she mumbles, poking at the lone piece of chicken left in her bowl with her fork.

  I arch a brow. She’s never held back from telling me what’s on her mind before. “Don’t start holding back now, beautiful.” I nudge her foot with mine underneath the table.

  “You just seem different today, that’s all.” She frowns. “You’ve never called me beautiful before…”

  “I was just being honest. Is that not allowed?”

  She shakes her head and sighs. “Of course it is. We’ve always been up front with each other. At least, I thought we were. But now, all of a sudden, you’re saying I’m stunning, and you’re looking at me with those eyes.” She throws her hand out, gesturing at my face. “It’s just a little confusing.”

  I nod because she’s right. I’ve always kept things on the up and up with us. I don’t think I’ve so much as flirted with her until that day in the pool a few weeks back. Now’s as good a time as any to lay it out for her. Running my palms over the denim encasing my thighs, I clear my throat. “What if I didn’t want this to be”—I pause, trying to come up with a way to say fake without actually saying it, seeing as we’re in public—“what it is.”

  Her frown intensifies, her brows dipping lower, the creases on her forehead becoming more prominent. “What it is?” she asks. “I don’t understand what exactly you’re trying to say.”

  Shit, I suck at this stuff. “You know, like, what if I wanted this to be more than what it is.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m not following. Are you okay? ‘Cause you’re sweating, and you’re looking a little pale.” She reaches across the table, placing the back of her hand against my forehead. “Maybe we should go?”

  I close my eyes and release a deep breath. “Yeah, okay. I’ll get the check.” I pay for our meals, then we exit the restaurant, hand in hand, and pretend like we don’t notice the guy taking photos of us as I walk Tia to her waiting Uber.

  “Have fun with the girls,” I tell her, brushing a soft kiss to her cheek as she slips inside the car.

  She gifts me with a shy smile and nods. “I will.”

  Nudging the door closed, I step back up onto the sidewalk, sliding my hands into my pockets as I make my way to my car. Tia’s going to do wedding dress stuff with the girls, and I’m off to meet Archer, Dax, and Atticus for the final fitting for our tuxes.

  The wedding is just three weeks away, and everything is coming together smoothly. I always thought these things were supposed to be stressful. But, so far, knock on wood, that hasn’t been our experience. Maybe it has something to do with the wedding p
lanner I’m paying out the ass for? I’ll have to send her a huge bunch of flowers or something when this is all over—she’s obviously worth every cent.

  When I reach my car, I drive across the city to the tailor and park in their reserved parking around back. By the time I get inside, my boys are already waiting for me, along with Atticus’s nineteen-year-old son, Arlo.

  “’Sup, ladies?” I greet each of them with a bro hug. “What, no hot date today?” I ask the kid.

  He shrugs. “I’m meeting up with Kelsey later. Figured I’d hang out for a bit before I’ve gotta pick her up.”

  “I should have known.” I grin, shaking my head at the little lady killer. The kid has game like I’ve never seen before. I mean, I was always popular with the female population at his age, but this kid…he doesn’t even have to try, and he has a line of honeys waiting for him to take his pick.

  I introduce Dax and Arlo since they’re the only two here who haven’t previously met, then we strip down and let other men fondle our junk under the guise of measuring our inseams.

  “Are you sure it looks okay? It feels like it’s too much,” I say to no one in particular. I know someone will answer me.

  Not only is Lennon, Kinsley, Emory—with little baby Darcy—Amá, Danika, and Adley here, but so are Storm and Hannah. Over the last few weeks, they helped me narrow it down to two dresses. Both have been tailored to my exact specifications and fit like a glove.

  I told Lennon the price tags on these gowns were obscene and I’d be happy to wear something much more affordable, but she blew me off. “You’ll only have your first wedding once,” she’d said. Until all this, I thought I’d only ever have one wedding, period.

  The gowns are from the Fiora winter line, and thanks to Kinsley, I was able to get early access to them as she is one of the Fiora heiresses. Having friends with connections has its perks when you’re getting fake married.

  “Face this way. Let me see you,” Amá says from my side.

  I turn on the little dais until I’m facing the room, my hands shaking as I run them over my hips, touching the pearls and crystals embroidered into the ivory French lace encasing my body.

  “What do you think, Amá?” I ask.

  This is the first fitting she’s been able to attend because of her busy work schedule.

  She tips her head this way, then that. All the while, her gaze takes in every intricate detail of the gown. “It isn’t you, mija. It is beautiful, no doubt. But not you.”

  “I like it,” Dani says, grazing the tips of her fingers over the fabric. “But Amá is right. Sorry, Titi.”

  Their words don’t upset me, not even a little bit. While I do love this gown, it feels too flashy for me.

  “Change into the other one, for comparison. I want to see both before I give my opinion,” Adley puts in. “Because that dress is stunning. I don’t know how you’re going to top it.”

  It takes two attendants to help me remove the dress behind a heavy cream curtain, then they slide the second one over my head. This one feels different. It feels…right.

  Stepping out from behind the curtain, I’m met with complete silence. “What? What’s wrong?” I ask as Amá places her hand over her mouth, her eyes welling with tears.

  “This is the dress, mija.” She exhales then swoops me into a tight hug. My own eyes prickle as she holds me close. When she pulls back, she strokes my cheek, wiping away an errant tear. “You are a vision, mi amor. Bates is a very lucky man.”

  My throat thickens, and it takes everything I have not to burst out crying. If only she knew none of this is real.

  The plane we chartered to cart us all to Vegas is way too small.

  Okay, it’s not actually that small, but it doesn’t matter where I sit in this tin can, because I can still see my BFF sucking face with my baby sister, and it’s fucking gross. Lenny giggles, and a shudder races down my spine. Len is not the giggling type—never has been. She’s a hardass, ball-busting queen, not whatever the hell this is.

  My eyes narrow on them. “Knock that shit off. I’m scarred as it is. I don’t need you two traumatizing me any more than you already have,” I bite out. Not only is it nasty, but I’ve been in a progressively worsening mood this last week.

  Lennon rolls her eyes at me, and Arch chuckles. “Sorry not sorry,” he says, shooting me a wink before a wicked smirk crosses his stupid face and he leans back in to kiss my sister again.

  “Dickwad,” I grumble, turning to look out the window.

  Atticus kicks me in the shin from where he’s sitting opposite me.

  “What the hell, man?” I say, glaring at him as I rub at the smarting spot.

  “Just be happy she’s happy,” he says. “And that you know she’s not with an asshole.”

  “I am happy for her. Him too. But I don’t need to see that shit. It triggers my gag reflex”—I fake gag to drive my point home—“and my PTSD from walking in on them doing unspeakable things.”

  Arlo throws his head back, laughing, and I lean over so I can punch the little smartass in the bicep. “It’s not funny, peckerhead. Just wait until your baby sister starts dating.”

  He sobers immediately. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Like, ever. If the old man doesn’t lock her away from potential suitors, I will.”

  I snort. “Potential suitors? Are we suddenly living in the sixteenth century?”

  “I binge-watched Bridgerton with Diana last weekend,” he says, waggling his brows.

  Atticus elbows his son in the ribs. “Give me a break; she hasn’t even been born yet.”

  Kins, sitting on her husband’s other side, rubs her belly and rolls her eyes. “I feel sorry for her already,” she mutters. “Don’t worry, baby girl. I won’t let Daddy and your big brother scare all the boys away,” she says in a soothing voice to her stomach.

  But there’s a smile on her face that I’m happy to see. Lenny’s girl gang are like surrogate little sisters to me, and I’m glad they’ve brought Tia into their circle.

  “I’m so glad Dax was too busy hooking up with half the female population of our high school to have time to warn the guys away from me,” Dani pipes up.

  Dax smirks and pats his twin’s shoulder. “Oh, I warned them alright. The little bastards just weren’t very good listeners. Ever wonder why you never went on more than two dates with a guy? Or why they seemed to have black eyes when they broke it off with you?”

  Dani gasps. “Son of a bitch! How did I not know this?”

  “Hey, don’t talk about Amá like that,” he deadpans as he glares at her.

  “Asshat.” She rolls her eyes, grumbles, and folds her arms across her chest as Adley shakes with silent laughter beside her.

  Tia chuckles from her seat next to me. She’s been unusually quiet the whole flight, so I shift toward her. “Hey, you,” I murmur quietly. I’m not the only one who’s been off kilter this week. She’s been avoiding being left alone with me for weeks now, and I can tell something is up with her.

  “Hey,” she replies, a soft smile curving her full lips.

  “We good?” I ask. After I fumbled my attempt at telling her I want this to be real and not just for appearances’ sake, I kind of just left things be, figuring this weekend would be a better time to broach the topic.

  She nods but doesn’t say anything. I’m so sick of this awkwardness. I want things to go back to how they were before I screwed it up. Unbuckling my seat belt, I stand and grab her hand then drag her to the bathroom with me.

  Once inside, I close and lock the door then spin to face her.

  Her eyes are wide with uncertainty. “What’s up? Are you okay?” she asks, concern coating her voice.

  I run a hand through my hair, frustrated with our current dynamic. “Not really,” I admit. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

  “What?” she squeaks, looking anywhere but at me. “No, I haven’t.”

  “Yeah, you have.” I raise a brow. “Wanna talk about it?”

  Her nose wrink
les adorably. “About what?”

  “Babe, we’re not leaving this bathroom until we’ve addressed the elephant in the room.”

  With a heavy sigh, she plops down on the closed toilet seat and drops her head into her hands. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs.

  I want to go to her, crouch in front of her and take her slender hands in mine. But something tells me she needs some space, so I stay where I am, settling in against the door. I slide my hands into my pockets and wait her out.

  She rakes her fingers through her long brown hair then sits up to face me. “I took advantage of you, and I’ll never forgive myself. I’m an awful person who doesn’t deserve your trust, but I’m going to do everything I can to—”

  What the hell?

  “Stop,” I say. “I have no idea what you’re talking about right now.”

  Her brows scrunch as she frowns at me. “In the laundry, when I kissed you,” she says as if I’m slow in the head.

  “Okay, what part of that makes you a bad person? I’m not following.” I am so lost right now.

  “The part where you were grieving and I took advantage of you like a creepy predator or something equally repulsive.” She shudders, and my frown deepens.

  She has got to be kidding me with this shit. “Tia, babe, if that was you taking advantage of me, feel free to be as creepy as you like whenever you want,” I tell her, my tone relaying how serious I am.

  Her eyes ping to mine, and her head tilts to the side, causing her hair to tumble over her shoulder. I wish I could run my hand through the silky strands, feel them slip between my fingers.

  Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I lay it out for her. “Look, I tried to make myself clear at lunch last week, but obviously that didn’t pan out. I can’t believe you’ve been feeling guilty all this time for giving me exactly what I needed.” Pushing away from the door, I close the small space between us, take her hand, and tug her up so she’s standing in my arms.