“What are you trying to say, Jase? This isn’t a 2000s rom-com. We’re not falling in love just because we’re living together and having a baby. We’re not going to bond over 2 a.m. feedings when we’re both overtired. Not over shared pancakes and a cup of coffee in the morning like we’re the happiest couple.”
I let out a loud chuckle at the vision. “Yeah, babe. It’s best you know now before you start making me breakfast as the woman of the house. I don’t like pancakes.”
Her eyes turn murderous, and if I thought I was on fire before, now I’m consumed by the most destructive mega-volcano that’s erupted within them. I’m talking Pompeii coming straight out of her eyes.
She stands, closing the distance between us. Her finger digs into my bare chest, and the urge to wrap my arms around her waist is too strong to ignore. I clench my jaw shut to subdue the raging hard-on that’s growing beneath the thin fabric of my sweats, one I’m pretty sure she’s about to feel as she settles between my legs.
“Oh, let me stop you right there, Jameson King. First, I will not be cooking anything for you. If anything, you will be tendingto my every need and request, because I am the one carrying a mini-you inside of me. And second, who the fuck doesn’t like pancakes? Am I having a baby with a psychopath?”
Her eyes flick down to the erection I know she feels pressing against her hip. I want to laugh, but, fuck. I’m so turned on I’m embarrassed by the sound that may leave my lips if I do. “I’m more of a savory breakfast guy. Make me some biscuits with sausage gravy and extra crispy bacon and potatoes, and I’m all yours.”
Monroe lets out a nervous chuckle, but it eases the tension of this entire conversation, which was exactly my plan with that comment. I am not expecting Monroe to do anything other than allow me to be a part of my child’s life. That and maybe I’ll wear her down and she’ll end up letting me fuck her again because I’ve been aching to since the moment she walked out of my hotel room.
“This is going to be a disaster, you know that, right?”
I laugh, but it’s definitely fake, because if that isn’t the truth. “Maybe, but it will be a disaster of our making. Because from here on out, Moonshine, it's you, me and our little bear.”
Chapter Five
Monroe
Three Months Ago
I’d taken my fair share of trips with my two best friends, though we hadn’t always ventured out of our hometown of Crossroads. It was a mere four-hour road trip from the University of North Carolina we’d all gone to straight out of high school, but that was as far as we’d journeyed after turning eighteen. Once we were away at school, we’d still visit home almost every other weekend. Though shortly after our sophomore year, we decided it was time to take the bull by the horns and make our mark on the world.
That year for Spring Break, we went to Cabo. Hawaii the following year during the summer, and we even traveled up north on New Year’s Eve, our senior year of college, to watch the ball drop in the middle of a buzzing Times Square. Tennessee was our latest trip out of town, but it had been almost two years since we’d gone out to see my brother Theo play.
Florida had always been on my bucket list. For one, I loved the heat. North Carolina is beautiful in the warm summer months, but Florida’s heat and humidity are a rare obsession ofmine. Second, there’s just something so freeing about the people there. They lived in their own little bubble of bliss, and watching the hordes of tourists parading about was just what summer was all about.
The closest I’d gotten to a true summer vacation was out to the Outer Banks, but that coastal water differed from the clear, almost turquoise waves that ran up to Palm Beach. However, now I was back home in Crossroads, regretting having ever left in the first place.
What’s the saying?The journey was pleasure, but it brought me hell? I think it was quite the opposite, actually, but this version rang true for me.
The bright lights of the pharmacy bathroom blinded me as I stared up at the ceiling, pee stick in hand. God, this was such an awkward process, though for some it brought them greatest joy in the world. For me, dread filled me to my core. I was late. Worse than that, I’d thrown up this morning after one sip of my morning latte and had to pretend I’d eaten some bad sushi the night before when my best friend Bailey ambushed me outside her cafe bathroom.
I immediately knew what was wrong, although I prayed it wasn’t so. It had been three entire weeks since my one-night stand with Jase.
The timer I set for three minutes startled me, making me toss the pregnancy test up into the air. I caught it before it hit the ground, my heart racing in my chest, nausea bubbling to the surface as I looked down at the positive result.
Pregnant.
The word stared back at me, mocking me as I blinked and tried to refocus my sight, currently blurred and obstructed by the tears forming in my eyes. My breath hitched, a sharp, painful stab in my chest, while my hands trembled, the stick tightly clutched between my fingers.
A cold sweat broke out on my forehead, despite the flush creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. My stomach churned, a nauseating wave threatening to overwhelm me from sheer disbelief and panic swirling within.
“No, no, no,” I whispered into the empty bathroom, which thankfully only had one stall. I wasn't in Crossroads. I’d ventured two hours to a small town on the South Carolina border to make sure I wasn’t seen buying a pregnancy test by anyone I knew. I prayed to the universe, hoping someone out there would hear me. Hell, I’d even prayed to Jesus. He had to know I wasn’t prepared to be a mother, especially not to have a child with Jameson King.
“Everything okay here?” a voice beckoned from outside the door, forcing me to let out a hair-raising squeal. My heart hammered against my ribs, echoing the chaos in my mind.
“Yeah, almost out,” I said, dropping the stick into the trash bin beside the sink.
Oh God, what was I going to tell Bailey? How would I face her after what I’d done?
I’d spent the better part of three weeks trying my hardest to ignore my best friend, although we were in the middle of our bar's grand opening. When Bailey and I came up with the idea to open our own bar and tavern together one drunken night in college, it was a dream come true. I’d always struggled with finding my true calling, and when I’d changed my major from hospitality to interior design, with a minor in business administration, I knew owning multiple businesses and being my own boss was exactly what I wanted to do.
Monroe Avenue was the interior design business I’d created thanks to the support of my brother Monty’s construction company, Montgomery Builds. Working alongside Monty gave me an influx of clients my first year and allowed me to establish myself as the best interior designer in all of Crossroads and itsnearby neighborhoods. I’d amassed a pretty decent and loyal client base, mainly tourists who’d come in to receive a quote from my brother and would find my business card tucked into the portfolio he’d provide them with. We were a team, a great one at that, but something felt like it was missing. I hoped to eventually branch out, have my own office space and potentially work with hotels and resorts all along the coast. In order to do that, I had to have an investment portfolio worthy of the work I wanted to accomplish.
That’s when Bailey came to me to invest with her. Her business plan and ideas for Stingers Tavern were impeccably thought out, and it felt like the perfect opportunity to expand my business portfolio. However, now that I was expecting and had recently invested tens of thousands of dollars in this passion project, I wasn't sure how I was going to make both of them work.
