Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,26

but my heart couldn’t take it. “We should hold hands, smart ass. Have some sort of physical contact so people don’t suspect that we met in a leper colony.”

Jude grabbed me before I could dodge, wrapped my hand in his, and tugged me to the den.

Our fingers threaded, and my heart felt like it squished between our palms. His huge hand completely enveloped mine, but he didn’t crush my fingers. Just the opposite.

He almost…caressed me.

And that was a dangerous line of thinking.

Jude led me to his man cave—darkened by the thick drapes but warmed by a lovely fireplace. A modern wet-bar framed the corner, and a top of the line television was built into the wall. Jude plunked us onto an oversized leather couch that would have been comfortable had my nerves not frayed into splinters within the thrill of his touch.

“Nothing to it.” He tossed Phillip a milk-bone in exchange for the bedroom lamp he currently used as a chew toy. “Almost like we’ve done this before.”

“We did.”

“When?”

I stared only at the television. It didn’t help. The sportscast did a recap of training camps around the league, and Jude popped up on the screen as well.

Smiling. Gorgeous.

Perfect.

“We were dared,” I said. “When we were kids. Thought we’d catch cooties or something.”

He squeezed my hand. “I think I’m safe now…unless babies are contagious.”

“Well, I certainly wasn’t sneezed on.” I shrugged. “Guess I got blessed though.”

“Don’t seem too sure about it.”

“It’s scary. You’re walking through life, everything’s planned out for the next five years or so and then—Bam. You get the sneeze. I can’t help but wonder what might’ve happened if he had…you know.”

“Used a Kleenix?”

Or a second condom. “Let’s just say there’s not many gentlemen left in the world who would offer a lady their handkerchief.”

“Good thing you have me,” Jude said. “I consider myself quite the gentleman. Care for a demonstration?”

He raised my hand to his lips.

“How continental.” My heart fluttered a bit too much. I hoped the baby could pick up the slack.

He kissed the back of my hand with a flourishing grin. “How’s that for convincing?”

He sure as hell convinced me. “Well, shucks. That’s swell. Everyone at the soda shop will think we’re going steady now.”

I giggled, but Jude hadn’t released my palm. His smile faded, and he exhaled, a masculine moment of contemplation.

“You know, Doc. You’re right.”

“It might be a fake relationship, but you already know what I like to hear.”

“We do need to be comfortable with each other.”

“I agree.”

“You should kiss me.”

I would just as soon as I grabbed the nearest defibrillator. “W—What?”

“A lot of people kiss in public,” he said.

“Yeah.” My voice wavered. “I guess we should practice kissing.”

“I don’t mean to brag...but I am pretty damn good at it.”

“Yeah?” I liked this game. A lot. “You can’t be better than me.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Proof is in the pudding.” I pointed to my belly. “Well…placenta.”

“You’re awfully confident. Game on.” He curled a finger. “Get back here, Rory.”

And this was exactly why I never gambled. Not enough to bet and entirely too much to lose.

An arm length separated us over the couch. Was I supposed to scoot over? Would he meet me halfway? Maybe we should have stood for this. The couch felt too puffy. It complicated everything and bogged us down within the leather and fluff.

Too many seconds had passed, and we were beyond awkward and shooting into uncomfortable. I sucked in a breath and pinched my eyes shut just so I wouldn’t see myself tremble.

I could do it. It was just a kiss. Just a sweet, simple kiss with the absolute man of my dreams who had no idea how obsessively, freakishly often I had imagined this very moment—

I surged forward.

So did he.

And our foreheads cracked together with a spectacular thunk.

“Damn…” Jude rubbed his head. “Don’t I get battered around enough on the field?”

Oh God. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

I held his cheeks in my hand and stared into his eyes.

He was onto me. “I’m thinking this isn’t a romantic gaze.”

“Checking your pupils.”

“My skull isn’t made of Styrofoam, Doc. I can take a head-butt…especially if it gets me this…”

He pushed forward, cradling my cheek while leaning into a sweet, tender, and amazing kiss.

The zip of shock trembled me from my fluttering lashes to my curling toes.

I froze and heated and squirmed and went limp all at the same time. The kiss ended all too quickly—little more than a peck, less than an I Do at the altar.

I was left with a quiet gasp and