Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,22

impossible with you.”

“Because we’ll be together. A lot.”

“That’s not such a bad thing.”

Her eyes flashed, curious and bright. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

More than ever, even if I did it for the wrong reasons. “You should move in with me.”

“Move in?”

“I suppose you’re gonna fight me on this too?”

“You’re damned right. I can’t impose on you like that.”

I expected it. Fortunately, I knew Rory. Practical, sensible Rory.

“You should move in with me until the baby is born,” I said. “Hell, until you’re confident that you can handle being on your own.”

“It’s one thing to steal my own drawer and plug my hair dryer into your bathroom outlet,” Rory said. “It’s another thing to plop a newborn into your living room.”

“And I suppose a single-mother-to-be wouldn’t want to save money on six or seven months’ rent?”

“…Rent free?”

What sort of monster did she think I was? “Of course rent free. I’ll take care of everything—housing, groceries, utilities. All you need to do is move in and help me sell this relationship as something real. Plus…” I let the implication linger. “It wouldn’t hurt to have a live-in doctor to observe my general health, just to reassure her that I do belong on the field.”

Rory nodded. “You help me, and I help you?”

“That’s the plan.”

“This is a bad plan.”

“On the contrary.” I extended my hand. She shook on it. “I think I’m just what the doctor ordered.”

5

Rory

Too bad a fake relationship didn’t come with imaginary luggage.

I dropped my purse in Jude’s entryway.

There. My handbag was moved. If only my furniture, books, clothes, and life could fit into the side pocket with the gum and iPhone.

Fortunately, Jude had hired movers to help me make the transition. Not that I was bringing much with me. His penthouse had been pre-furnished—more suited for a king than a running back. Who knew apartments came in two stories. I’d have credited his taste, but I remembered Jude’s room from when we were kids. He was lucky he could find matching socks, let alone pick crown molding and decorate with cool, winter colors.

Still, the penthouse was amazingly beautiful. I’d never ridden in a private elevator before, and I’d never tripped over marble steps. Giant windows spanned the entirety of the sitting rooms. And somewhere, tucked away, Jude mentioned a Jacuzzi tub. My butt would be glamorous.

I closed the door behind me and turned to find Jude’s most unusual house guest.

A dog.

The dalmatian padded over to greet me, wagging his tail so hard I worried his spots would flick off and stain the pristine entryway.

“Hello, puppy,” I said.

The dog yipped his own pleasantry and offered a paw. I took it as it seemed only the polite thing to do. But it was a ploy.

“Nice to meet you, fella—”

The dog seized my purse between his teeth. He gave a playful growl and shook his head.

“Oh, no. That’s not a toy.”

I reached for my purse. Too slow. The dog twisted with a half-gaited jump and trotted away, merrily wagging his tail and bidding me further into the penthouse.

“Wait…dog. Come back. That’s the only purse I have that goes with a cocktail dress and lab coat!”

I had no treat to offer or squeaky toy to hold as ransom. I darted after the dog, stopping only to kick my sandals off before I slid across the hardwood floors.

Shattering a shoe’s heel was nothing compared to cracking an ankle. Besides, it was dumb to even wear them. The heels were the only shoes I owned that made my calves look good—if such a stupid thing were possible.

Like Jude was a calf man.

Hell, even if he was, I’d be a heifer in a few months anyway. First in size, then…more literally.

Eighteen weeks into the pregnancy, and I was still in the sweet spot between denial and panic. I tried to prepare, even looked through the baby aisles at Target. But as cute as the onesies were, the various equipment and accoutrements which promised to extract liquids from my body overwhelmed me.

If the word duct didn’t make me queasy, the threat of pints sure as hell did.

I only had one pair of sexy black heels. Now my only pumps would be a terrible fashion statement.

That got me upset. Just what I needed. Leaky eyes. Future leaky boobs. A very real pregnancy in a very imaginary relationship.

And the man I’d crushed on since elementary school would only see me get bigger, more miserable, more sick, more frazzled, more…

In love with him.

Jude called my name.

“Hey, Doc.”