Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,20

spoke to me again.

“Jude?” Rory’s grip tightened. My fingers ached, but at least I could tape them up for the afternoon drills. “What are you doing?”

“I think it’s time to let the cat out of the bag,” I said.

Rory disagreed. “I think the cat is perfectly content to stay stuffed in the bag.”

Lachlan laughed. “And I think someone’s already stuffing that pussy, if you know what I’m sayin’.”

Jack frowned. “Everyone knows what you’re saying.”

I didn’t expect a pregnant woman to launch at me, but I braced myself in case Doctor Merriweather transformed into Mr. Hyde.

“It’s time to tell everyone the truth,” I said. “No sense hiding it.”

Her hackles raised, disguised by a smile. “That’s not necessary.”

“Come on, Rory—sweetheart. They’ll find out eventually.”

“Not if you keep your big mouth shut.”

She wasn’t making this easy, but I wasn’t letting her throw her reputation away. I tugged her close and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The team shifted, and Rory’s boss arched an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to be shy,” I said.

Rory faked a laugh. “And you don’t have to be so forward.”

“Would you prefer I shout it from the mountaintops?”

“Go ahead. I’ll wait here.”

I faced the team. “Look, we’ve been keeping this a secret.”

Rory edged close just so she could stomp on my foot. “So secret it’s like it doesn’t even exist.”

“Rory and I have been dating for six months,” I said. “We wanted to keep it quiet, but there’s no harm in sharing the good news. We’re expecting.”

There. That wasn’t so hard. Just…potentially suicidal. Sharing her pregnancy with the entire Rivets’ organization meant she couldn’t be pissed at me for telling Eric. This was definitely worse. Figured. I’d finally signed with the Rivets, but I’d be a dead man before I got my team photo.

But at least her job was safe. I’d played in the league with enough assholes, bastards, and slime. I recognized trouble when I saw it. Clayton Frolla was trouble. I might have been old-fashioned, but Rory was a friend, a lady, and a woman in distress. She needed to be protected.

And I was the one to do it.

The team might have offered their compliments with thudded slaps to my back and handshakes, but Rory faced Clayton with a clenched jaw.

“Congratulations, Doctor Merriweather…” His eyebrow rose. “Odd that you never disclosed your relationship with this player.”

Rory stiffened. “I didn’t want to cause a conflict of interest regarding his case.”

“I see.”

“But if you want to check his charts and test results—”

“No, that’s not necessary,” Clayton said. “I’ve had no reason to doubt your assessments. If anything, I’d have cleared your boyfriend to play sooner. No sense offering the father of your child any preferential treatment.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Rory’s hand tightened in mine, grinding bone. Her smile turned sweet, and she gazed at me with that rabid glimmer that would probably hurt. “Could I have a word with you in private, honey?”

Honey.

Not a traditional battle cry, but it was the word that would inevitably herald the bloodshed. I guided Rory to the relative privacy outside. No sense letting her pin me down somewhere dark and secluded where I’d be punished for my misguided chivalry.

Most women held men’s balls in their hand—this one threatened his brains.

I led her to the tunnels, heading towards the practice fields. The Rivets’ training camp had become part fan-destination, part-festival. One of Leah Carson’s ideas to rebuild morale and improve the team’s shaken image with the fans. Food vendors, games, merchandise, and open practices funneled hundreds of people to the camp for the day. Plenty of witnesses.

Rory practically hyperventilated. “What. Are. You. Thinking?”

At least she could breathe without the apple in her throat. Saving her life had to guarantee her forgiveness.

“I had to think fast,” I said.

“Think fast?”

The hands came up. I tensed, but she simply wove her frustrated fingers through her ponytail.

“Are you thinking at all?” She hissed, “Do you know what you just did?”

“I saved your career, Doc.”

“And you ruined your life!”

My life was football. As long as I stayed on the field, it had meaning. Only one woman could guarantee my position, and I’d just rescued her from a pink slip.

“It all worked out,” I said.

“You said we were in a relationship!”

“Yes.”

“You said you were the father of my baby!”

“Yes.”

“You don’t understand how bad of a situation this is.”

“And you’re not seeing how great of an opportunity can be.” I took her hand before she stormed away. “Rory, I did what I thought was right. You needed help. I’m helping.”

Rory’s lip