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Authors: Tabatha Kiss
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going on the road with us starting tomorrow.”
“Ooo!” He winks. “That sexy Sports Illuminated reporter!”
“Her,” I nod, “and…”
“And…?”
“And.”
He tilts his head. “Your baby mama?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“She’s the photographer on the project.”
“Okay, that’s way too much to be coincidence,” he laughs, throwing another hard pitch my way.
I catch it in my glove and hold it there as I walk to the bench by the motel. “That part isn’t coincidence. I got her the job myself.”
He meets me by the bench. “Why?”
I reach down and grab my water bottle off the ground. “Because she’s having my baby.”
“And?”
“And I’m trying to secure a good future for it.”
“And…?”
“And what ?”
He sits beside me. “And you’re securing a nice, warm bed buddy for the long road trip full of dudes.”
“It’s not like that. I mean, yeah, it’ll be nice to spend some time with a woman after being packed into a bus with you assholes all day.”
“Hell yeah, it would…”
“But it’s a little different. We agreed to start from the beginning but how do I get to know her without constantly thinking about that baby inside of her, you know?”
“Well…” Devin pauses. “Do you have any siblings?”
“Only child.”
“I’m the oldest of three,” he says. “My mom had my little sister when I was fifteen, so I remember the details pretty well. The most important thing to realize is that yes , she’s pregnant, and yes , that thing is probably dominating most of her thoughts all the time , but she’s still a woman. She’s still a person . And, as I shockingly discovered one afternoon when I came home from school early and walked in on her and my dad at the wrong moment, she still has needs .”
I laugh. “Sounds traumatic.”
He shivers. “It’s burned in there, man. Anyway, the point is, I thought the same thing when I found out she was having another kid but, in the end, she was still my mom. That never changed.”
“I must say, Devin,” I grin. “That’s oddly poignant.”
“There’s more to this pitcher than a good arm,” he says, flexing his thick bicep. “I also have a heart of gold and balls of steel — as that hot, redheaded reporter will soon find out.”
“She’s all yours, buddy.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that. You focus on your baby mama and her needs.”
“I will.”
He slaps my shoulder before standing up. “I’m going back to bed. You cool?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m cool.”
I sit alone, staring forward across the parking lot. My mind wanders from one place to the next, never quite slowing down long enough for me to feel better.
Daisy’s still a person. She’s still a woman. She has needs .
And I know next to nothing about her.
That should scare me, but a rush of excitement rattles my nerves. I adore what I do know about Daisy Hawthorne and I’m honestly eager to learn more. She’s worth taking a second look.
I can do that.
Chapter 13
Daisy
“ You’re Daisy Hawthorne?”
I grin and extend my hand to her. “Yes,” I answer. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m a huge fan.”
Trisha Wells slides her thick, pink sunglasses off and stares back at me with a raised brow. Her eyes dart from my face to my shoes and back again, sizing me up and I feel my cheeks burning beneath her gaze. Rose and I settled on a tasteful, professional outfit this morning. Black slacks, navy blue top with a casual jacket that can easily be removed if needed. And flats. Glorious, comfortable flats.
Finally, Trisha smiles and lays her hand in mine. “You are just as adorable as your name suggests you should be,” she says, shaking my hand.
“Thank you,” I say.
“How old are you?”
“Uh…” I think for a second. “Twenty-five.”
“You’re kidding.” She gawks at me. “What product do you use?”
“Whiskey, mostly.”
Trisha throws her head back and laughs. “Oh, honey… ” She wipes her
“Ooo!” He winks. “That sexy Sports Illuminated reporter!”
“Her,” I nod, “and…”
“And…?”
“And.”
He tilts his head. “Your baby mama?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“She’s the photographer on the project.”
“Okay, that’s way too much to be coincidence,” he laughs, throwing another hard pitch my way.
I catch it in my glove and hold it there as I walk to the bench by the motel. “That part isn’t coincidence. I got her the job myself.”
He meets me by the bench. “Why?”
I reach down and grab my water bottle off the ground. “Because she’s having my baby.”
“And?”
“And I’m trying to secure a good future for it.”
“And…?”
“And what ?”
He sits beside me. “And you’re securing a nice, warm bed buddy for the long road trip full of dudes.”
“It’s not like that. I mean, yeah, it’ll be nice to spend some time with a woman after being packed into a bus with you assholes all day.”
“Hell yeah, it would…”
“But it’s a little different. We agreed to start from the beginning but how do I get to know her without constantly thinking about that baby inside of her, you know?”
“Well…” Devin pauses. “Do you have any siblings?”
“Only child.”
“I’m the oldest of three,” he says. “My mom had my little sister when I was fifteen, so I remember the details pretty well. The most important thing to realize is that yes , she’s pregnant, and yes , that thing is probably dominating most of her thoughts all the time , but she’s still a woman. She’s still a person . And, as I shockingly discovered one afternoon when I came home from school early and walked in on her and my dad at the wrong moment, she still has needs .”
I laugh. “Sounds traumatic.”
He shivers. “It’s burned in there, man. Anyway, the point is, I thought the same thing when I found out she was having another kid but, in the end, she was still my mom. That never changed.”
“I must say, Devin,” I grin. “That’s oddly poignant.”
“There’s more to this pitcher than a good arm,” he says, flexing his thick bicep. “I also have a heart of gold and balls of steel — as that hot, redheaded reporter will soon find out.”
“She’s all yours, buddy.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that. You focus on your baby mama and her needs.”
“I will.”
He slaps my shoulder before standing up. “I’m going back to bed. You cool?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m cool.”
I sit alone, staring forward across the parking lot. My mind wanders from one place to the next, never quite slowing down long enough for me to feel better.
Daisy’s still a person. She’s still a woman. She has needs .
And I know next to nothing about her.
That should scare me, but a rush of excitement rattles my nerves. I adore what I do know about Daisy Hawthorne and I’m honestly eager to learn more. She’s worth taking a second look.
I can do that.
Chapter 13
Daisy
“ You’re Daisy Hawthorne?”
I grin and extend my hand to her. “Yes,” I answer. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m a huge fan.”
Trisha Wells slides her thick, pink sunglasses off and stares back at me with a raised brow. Her eyes dart from my face to my shoes and back again, sizing me up and I feel my cheeks burning beneath her gaze. Rose and I settled on a tasteful, professional outfit this morning. Black slacks, navy blue top with a casual jacket that can easily be removed if needed. And flats. Glorious, comfortable flats.
Finally, Trisha smiles and lays her hand in mine. “You are just as adorable as your name suggests you should be,” she says, shaking my hand.
“Thank you,” I say.
“How old are you?”
“Uh…” I think for a second. “Twenty-five.”
“You’re kidding.” She gawks at me. “What product do you use?”
“Whiskey, mostly.”
Trisha throws her head back and laughs. “Oh, honey… ” She wipes her
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