TAKE TWO_ Who says you can't ma - Heather M. Orgeron Page 0,1
to Ellie.”
Our daughter. Ugh. I want to slap that smug look off his too-handsome face.
“How did this happen?” Please, for the love of God, he’d better tell me we went to a freaking costume party or something, but the sense of déjà vu is just too strong. This room all too familiar. The bustling city, haunting me through floor to ceiling windows, bringing back memories of the biggest mistake of my life. My college boyfriend. An impulse trip to Vegas. A little white chapel. No. No. “No.” I shake my head, moving to the window to stare down at Sin City.
“Give me six months,” the asshole rasps, sneaking up behind me wearing nothing but a thin pair of cotton boxer shorts. He glides his warm hands around my waist, pulling me flush with his chest. As if he has any right. I gulp hard, swallowing down a lump of regret, because something tells me I gave him that right last night. Liam’s eyes connect with mine in the glass, and I’m finding it hard to breathe. “We owe it to our little girl.”
Jesus, now he’s using our kid as a weapon. I should move out of his embrace, but I’ve always been putty in his arms. “Does she… does she know?”
He spins me around to face him, my resolve weakening with every moment spent wrapped in his embrace. “You don’t remember anything, do you?” Liam brushes away the strands of hair blocking his line of sight and studies my eyes.
Heat blooms in my chest. The smell of alcohol on his breath is oddly arousing. It’s not even fair that he’s been blessed with sexy morning breath, of all things. He’s not at all deserving of such sex appeal. “Please tell me this is a nightmare.” My voice cracks as the enormity of this situation creeps in. “And that I’m going to wake up to Ellie begging for me to make her scrambled eggs or to take her to the skating rink with her friends. Liam, tell me this isn’t happening.”
“Poker?” he asks, swiping a tear from beneath my right eye with the pad of his thumb. “Shots, shots, shots, shots, shots,” he sings in his best Lil Jon impression. A hopeful smirk curls his lip as he does a little shimmy to the beat. I try like hell not to let him see me ogling his erect penis flopping side to side with his movement.
Damn him and that appendage, which reduces me to nothing but a puddle of hormones.
“Oh, dear God, did we?” Nausea pools in my stomach as the face of my boyfriend, Ryder, flashes in my mind.
“Not yet.” His chiseled brows bounce.
“This isn’t funny, Liam!” I shove at his chest weakly. “I have a boyfriend.”
The exasperating man barks out a laugh. “’Fraid to tell ya…but husband trumps boyfriend.”
How can he be so blasé about this? “There’s no way.”
“No way, what?” he asks, lifting my hand to rest on his chest. The glint of a familiar diamond shimmers in the light of the morning sun. I’m momentarily distracted by the realization that he kept my ring all these years. My heart wants to soften to him, but the anger at this impossible situation swiftly overpowers the foolish organ.
“There’s no way I married the same mistake…twice!” I shout, breaking away from him to pace the enormous room.
“Six months, darlin’,” he repeats, casually dropping the endearment he hasn’t used with me in years, his blue eyes ablaze with hope. “You promised me six months.”
“For what?” I ask, panting. “To prove what idiotas we are?”
A dimple pops out on his left cheek, and I brace myself for his retort. “Nya—” Fuck the way his saying my name makes my vagina twitch and my chest ache! “Babe, I only need about ten minutes to prove what idiots we were…you never did last long.”
He ducks, just as I send the Bible from the side table flying in his direction. “Fuck you.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.”
Great. I cross my arms on my chest. “You married me for sex?”
“Now, we both know I didn’t have to marry you for that.”
Liam
“Honey, I’m home.”
“That’s the last of it, man.” My roommate Chance claps me on the back with a shake of his head as I roll down the trailer door. “You sure about this?”
The adrenaline vibrating through my veins is all the answer I need. “Yep.”
“Okay, well… good luck.” He eyes me with a shit grin. “Pretty sure you’re gonna need lots of it. I’d come to help