Touchdowns and Tiaras: The Complete Boxed Set

by Frost, Sosie

“Really, it’s okay. We can handle it.”

  “You can.” She pointed to the television. “This man can’t. Do you have any idea how this is going to look?”

  “He’s thrilled about the baby, Jolene.”

  “He’s a cocky son of a bitch who only cares about himself. And he’s gotten you in trouble.”

  “That’s not true. He’s very attentive and caring and he’s so excited—”

  “That’s because you still look like a twig. For Christ’s sake, Jack Carson is known for wild parties with multiple women, not to mention the alcohol and fights. He’s not a man who settles down. You know this. He’s a playboy. He’s a womanizer.”

  “He’s not that bad. He’s very sweet and charming and he—”

  “And he’s our biggest client. The state representatives and Hollywood producers downstairs won’t think we’re a reputable agency if my assistant is getting knocked up by our other clients!”

  “Jolene—”

  “Hell, maybe they’ll think it’s a perk! Who else are you willing to sleep with to get business?”

  “Jolene!”

  She exhaled, apologizing with a shake of her head. “Leah, this…this is too much. Are you marrying this man?”

  My stomach heaved. “I…no.”

  “Why not?”

  It wasn’t part of the deal. “Why should we?”

  “Because you’re having his child. You’re the baggage of a public figure. You’re…” She hesitated. “You were the future of this company. I trusted you to be rational and responsible; someone to partner with me once you learned your way. I can’t have my assistant sleeping with clients and getting pregnant.”

  “I can manage it all.”

  “No, you can’t. You deal with PR problems like this every day. We can’t spin this. It looks bad for our agency.”

  “It won’t be a problem.”

  “It already is. I’d hoped we could contain Jack while this fling passed, but we can’t. Leah, I need you to either marry this man and make it right or end it with him to let the impropriety pass.”

  I blinked. I didn’t like either option. “I…I’m not marrying him. And we’re not breaking up. I mean…things are…”

  Better than ever.

  Like a real relationship.

  Building to something neither of us expected.

  The thought of not going to bed with Jack at night, not having his touch on my skin, not hearing those gentle words when he praised me for carrying his baby?

  It broke a heart I never meant to give to Jack.

  Jolene sensed it. She nodded, turning off the television as the live cast ended and shifted to an ecstatic Ainsley Ruport listing all of Jack’s current controversies and issues.

  Jolene lowered her voice. She couldn’t look at me.

  “I have to let you go then, Leah.”

  “…What?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  A long moment passed where I didn’t understand what happened.

  Let me go?

  I couldn’t respond. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up. Jolene spoke to me from the doorway, but I didn’t hear much. She offered to expense my flight back to Ironfield and said she’d mail my things from the office.

  The door closed.

  My stomach heaved until I had nothing left inside me but the baby.

  She left, and I collapsed on the bed. Tears stung my eyes. I silenced the call from Jack. The phone buzzed and buzzed until I shut it off.

  This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  First Wyatt broke off the engagement, and I lost a full year mourning a man I didn’t love. I finally had an opportunity to secure the career I needed, and now?

  Gone.

  Ruined.

  I had no marriage. No job.

  And a baby on the way.

  My life unraveled string by string until I tangled myself in my own expectations and misery. I didn’t bother making the arrangements through Jolene’s office. I took my suitcase and called for a cab myself. It was a lonely ride, but I managed to buy a plane ticket on the way. The cost made me cry. I depleted some of my savings for a flight that wasn’t direct, had a three hour layover, and trapped me against the window and nowhere near the bathroom.

  Humility was about as bitter as morning sickness.

  I didn’t sleep on the first flight. The second was delayed. I spent most of the layover sick and exhausted. I just wanted to curl in a bed and rest.

  But not just any bed.

  Jack’s bed.

  And I wanted him there. Holding me. Kissing me. Comforting me.

  But I couldn’t expect it from that damn playboy. He wasn’t my boyfriend, and I had no idea if I could depend on him as a friend. He owed me one hell of an explanation.

  And if he wanted to be a part of the baby’s life, he owed me more than that.

  Like an apology. A pledge that I could trust him. Some reason that I should let the baby near the fiend once he or she was born.

  We landed before daybreak. I took a taxi directly to Jack’s house, suffering even more as I calculated what I had in savings for rent, food, and now…

  Baby supplies. Doctor’s appointments.

  Everything.

  Jack opened the door before I knocked. He hadn’t slept, and he looked as sick as me.

  “Christ, Kiss. I was terrified! I thought something happened to you!”

  Jack tried to hug me. I stopped him with a raised palm.

  He took the hint, but he grabbed my luggage and tossed it inside. Then he nearly carried me to the couch. Tears prickled my eyes as he knelt at my feet.

  I couldn’t tug my hands away. He kissed my fingers and dared to apologize.

  “The fight wasn’t my fault. I just went out for an hour. It wasn’t…” His voice faded as he wiped a tear from my cheek I hadn’t meant to shed. “I wasn’t meeting women. It wasn’t a party.”

  “The report said you smelled like beer.”

  “It spilled on me. I tried to break up the fight.”

  I pointed to his black-eye. “You did a terrible job.”

  “It was an accident. No charges filed. No problem. Everything worked out.”

  “…You told the world I was pregnant.”

  He nodded. “I wasn’t thinking. But it’s okay. It worked. I already talked to Coach Thompson. He…”

  Cut him? Fined him? Benched him?

  “He congratulated me.”

  That wasn’t happy news. I hated the thought that it was all a PR stunt.

  Jack met my gaze. “And the headline? A couple of papers are leading with the pregnancy, saying we were out celebrating when some other guy caused trouble.” He grinned. “For once, I wasn’t the guy starting trouble! We did it, Kiss. It’s okay.”

  I needed to throw up. I forced myself to stay still.

  “Jolene fired me tonight.”

  Jack’s grin turned to a scowl, as though Jolene were the one who sucker-punched him. “Fuck. Why the hell would she fire you?”

  “It didn’t look good for the future partner of her agency to be impregnated by her main client.”

  “What?”

  “She thought it’d either look like I was irresponsible, or like I’d sleep with anyone to get their business.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “No.” My voice hardened. “It’s not fair. This is your fault, Jack. I had a plan to announce the pregnancy. A plan you ruined. You shouted it to anyone who would listen to get yourself out of jail.”

  “Not true.”

  “You’re out of control, Jack.” I pushed away from him. “You used the baby to get out of trouble.”

  He held his arms out. “That was the reason we had it.”

  Oh, God.

  I didn’t think anything could hurt worse than the humiliation of getting fired.

  This was agony.

  Was I that big of an idiot?

  “That was a bad reason to have a baby.” I couldn’t scream, couldn’t yell. I just fell numb and ex
hausted and into a state of sheer disbelief. “I love this baby, Jack. I want him! I want to raise a child and be a mother and experience that joy.”

  “You don’t think I want to be a father?”

  I shook my head. “You want whatever benefits you. So you can do as you like without any consequence. I can’t save you, Jack. Nothing we do, no stories we leak, nothing will ever help you shed this selfish image. It’s not PR that hurts you. It’s yourself.”

  “Kiss.”

  “You need to decide if you can be a real man, or if you want to run around like a child, pouting when you don’t get your way.”

  “Kiss—”

  I couldn’t handle the nickname. I nearly covered my ears.

  My heart broke with each passing second, and I had no idea how much longer I could endure the stare of a man who hurt me so much.

  “I defended you!” I said. “I told Jolene you were a good man, sweet and caring. And now this?” My voice dropped. “You don’t even care about the baby.”

  One step too far.

  Jack got angry.

  Really angry.

  His expression darkened, and I swear he shifted, seething with strength and pulsing with rage. He grabbed my hand, ignoring me as I resisted him pulling me to the stairs.

  Jack wound me in his arms when I dared to fight. Profanity did nothing. I pounded on his shoulder, but he was too strong to care what I did. I expected him to drop me at the bedroom with an order to pack my things.

  Instead, he plunked me in the hall before the unused bedroom. He kicked the door open.

  And a nursery erupted in light.

  Jack stood behind me, his voice unshaken.

  “I’ve been working on this the nights you weren’t staying here. It’s not done yet.”

  My stomach flipped.

  The room painted in soft yellow with brand new, top-of-the-line and designer equipment tucked inside. He filled it with cribs and changing tables, dressers and rocking chairs, mobiles and enough pillows, blankets, and plush animals that the baby would never touch the carpet when he or she learned to walk.

  Rivets decals plastered on the walls, and Jack rummaged through a drawer already full of onesies. He pulled one out, showing me the little, custom-made baby outfit with the Rivets’ logo and his number on the back.

  “I’ve been buying things all month. Probably more than a baby needs.” He opened the closet, jammed packed with toys and diapers and more baby clothes. So much stuff it looked like he emptied out an entire store. “I wanted to surprise you. I wanted…”

  I touched the crib, swallowed as more tears blurred my vision. “The walls are yellow?”

  “We hadn’t talked about learning the gender.”

  “Do you want to find out?”

  He shook his head. “No. It’s exciting to find out when they’re born. I thought that sounded fun. So, in case you went for it, I picked something neutral for the room.”

  Tears burned my eyes again. The relief that flooded through me was enough to nearly knock me down. I didn’t know what to say. I stroked the crib, imagining a little baby sleeping while we watched him.

  “It’s all lovely, Jack.”

  “Move in with me.”

  My fingers clenched the crib. Jack slipped to my side.

  “We hadn’t talked about where the baby would be…kept.” He waved a hand. “I have a lot of room. We can keep the little guy here. Together.”

  “Together?”

  “Yeah. You know. It’s easier that way.”

  It really wasn’t. My chest tightened, but I didn’t know if my head or heart would burst first. I swallowed, wishing I could just say the words, ask what I needed to ask.

  But I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Not if anything we revealed would jeopardize raising the baby. Admitting something he didn’t share would only make it awkward, frightening, and too complicated.

  So I nodded instead. “That sounds very practical.”

  “That’s me.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  Jack agreed, but his smile crept back. “Give me a chance to be?”

  “I won’t hold my breath.”

  “Will you stay?”

  “Jack, I don’t know. It might get…what if we…”

  I met his gaze. That playboy blue turned to stone, blinding and desperate. He cupped my chin and forced me into a blistering kiss that rekindled everything that churned so cold hours ago.

  Jack held me close, whispering as he kissed my neck, brushed his fingers over my arms, and settled his huge hand over my tummy. His palm covered what would be my entire womb, but his touch was so gentle, so warm, so perfect.

  “I’m sorry, Kiss,” he said. “But now the secret’s out. We can celebrate and tell people and…”

  “And?”

  “And fucking brag. You have no idea how much this secret is eating me up. I want the world to know you’re carrying my baby.”

  I covered his hand, enjoying the pressure on that not-so-secret part of me.

  “I’ll take care of you both,” he whispered. “I promise.”

  “Who’s gonna take care of you?”

  He smirked. “Still got that short leash you talked about?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Then, Kiss? You better string me up.”

  “Or else?”

  “Or else I’ll tie you to the bed so you can’t leave me.”

  16

  Leah

  The dress was tight. That was a first.

  I twisted in the mirror and smoothed the cocktail dress. It was the only formal wear I had unpacked from the boxes stashed in the corner of Jack’s bedroom. He’d piled my belongings in his closet, like he fully expected I’d share his bed. Neither of us discussed for how long. Hell, when I’d asked where he’d sleep if I invaded his room, Jack tucked me against the bed, spread my legs, and dared me to banish him and his skilled tongue to the couch.

  Point taken, as confusing as it was.

  The little bump wasn’t that noticeable, but everyone would be looking for it tonight. Jack Carson’s baby was already a celebrity and a prime source of gossip in the league. It worked in our favor. The fundraiser dinner was a great event for both the baby and Jack to make an appearance. Besides, I needed a good picture of him circulating in a suit instead of handcuffs.

  Jack didn’t complain about going though. It was strange until I checked the information on the dinner.

  Childhood Leukemia Fund.

  He appeared in the mirror behind me, and his hands snaked around my tummy. He settled over the bump and brushed a kiss against my neck. I shivered in his embrace, as always. His erection pressed against my back.

  “Maybe we don’t have to go…” His lips murmured against my skin. “You look…”

  “Like I have a bump?”

  “Absolutely amazing with a bump.”

  His words warmed me too much. Whatever barrier I built between us was quickly tumbling down, and I had no idea how to prevent the fall. I slipped from his grip and covered myself with a crimson wrap. Jack still searched for the swelling of my tummy.

  “I’m surprised you’re attracted to this,” I said.

  “Why wouldn’t I be attracted to you?”

  “You’re always pictured with supermodels and beautiful women.”

  He didn’t believe me. “And you think you aren’t beautiful?”

  “Just think it’s different with a baby.”

  “But it’s my baby.” He grinned at me. “I did that to you.”

  “I’d like to think I had something to do with it.”

  “Yeah.” Jack’s gaze burned wicked. “You laid back real nice.”

  I rolled my eyes and pushed him from the bedroom. “We’re gonna be late.”

  “You spread your legs all sweet and innocent.”

  “Get in the car.”

  “Oh, Jack Carson…” He mocked me, his voice breathy and high pitched. “I must have your baby. Please. Mount me now!”

  I pretended to ignore
him as I stomped down the stairs. “Please behave better than this tonight. We’re sitting with journalists and very important people.”

  “Excellent. I can tell them the story of how you begged me to toss your legs over your head while I fucked you—”

  “—Don’t you dare—”

  “And how you came like a filthy little slut as I bred you full of my baby.”

  “Oh, for the love of—”

  I turned to face him, but my heels caught on the rug at the bottom of the stairs. I slipped, grasping for the railing. My fingers weren’t close enough, and I flailed backwards.

  Jack leapt forward impossibly fast, crashing over the last few stairs to slide under me as I fell. He caught me in his arms, spun me, and plunked down on the floor. I gripped his arms. His hand rubbed my belly.

  I breathed deep. His fear trumped mine. He pulled me close, grasping me hard and furious.

  I baited him with a smile and tried to laugh. “My hero—”

  His kiss stole my words. He captured me, nibbling my lips, invading to flick my tongue, and groaning as I went limp in the intensity of his hold. My pulse raced, not just for the near-fall, but because I stared into the wild blue eyes of a man who used his strength, speed, and athleticism to protect me.

  I curled my hands in his jacket. Neither of us moved.

  I had no idea what to say.

  What to think.

  How to feel when I was so safe and warm and comforted in his embrace.

  My lip trembled, and the damn hormones overwhelmed me. This time, the tears weren’t a result of Jack making a sandwich with the last of the peanut butter.

  These felt genuine. Real. Just as honest as when I wept in his arms in the nursery and agreed to move into his home.

  But I couldn’t trust the tears. Or what they meant. Or how much I loved when he brushed them away with his thumb. I wiggled from his arms before I snuggled into his chest forever.

  “Come on,” I said. He helped me to my feet. “We’ll be late.”

  “Are you okay?” His hand grazed my cheek. Too soft. My god, this man. “We don’t have to go.”

  “Can’t wait for that headline—Jack Carson Misses Fundraiser When Pregnant Ex-Publicist Falls Down Stairs.”

  “Girlfriend.”

  I stilled. “What?”

  “The headline would say girlfriend. Cause we’re…you know...”