Her Baby Daddy Read online Emily Bishop

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
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“She left in a rush,” my sister said. “I’m not sure where she went.”

“Find out before I do.” I released her.

Veronica squished her cell phone out of her tote and unlocked the screen. She dialed and pressed the phone to her ear, stood frozen in front of me, shock still tugging at her features. We were similar in so many ways, but she had our mother’s fine nose, her high cheekbones.

It was a pity she hated me. It would’ve been nice to have a healthy family relationship for once in my damn life. Riley would be that. Riley and my baby. Christ, that finally hit me, right between the eyes.

My baby. Our baby. We’d have a child together. We’d raise it and teach it right from wrong.

How? You’re not exactly a paragon of fucking virtue.

Veronica tapped her foot again and again. “No answer,” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “Riley, it’s me. I’m so sorry for the way I acted. I panicked. I was a total dickhead, girl, please forgive me. Please, call me back.” She hung up, tried again. “Nothing,” she said. “Nothing. Oh god, I’m such a terrible person.”

“Have a backbone,” I replied. “You acted like a shitheel, but it’s never too late to start making smart decisions.”

Veronica tucked her cell back into her tote, brow wrinkling up. She misted over for a second, shut her eyes. They snapped open again in a classic eureka moment. “I’ve got it!” She raised her index finger. “Whenever Riley’s stressed out, she dances. She has to do it. It’s the way she gets her brain and her body to work together. That’s what she calls it anyway. I—she’s probably gone to the studio. She’ll break in if she has to.”

“Jesus H. Christ in a bucket of wine,” I said. “Of course she will.” That was Riley.

I walked for the door and, once again, Veronica caught my arm. “Jax,” she said. “I—we need to talk about this. About family.”

I gave her the most genuine smile in my possession and patted the back of her hand. “We’re good, kid. Keep your head out of your ass, and we’re good.” I made for the exit then, burning for Riley. For the future we had to have.

Chapter 28

Riley

It didn’t matter that the supply closet was locked and I couldn’t get out the stereo, nor that I couldn’t switch on the lights without risking discovery. I danced in the dark. I swayed to an inner beat—an emulsion of pain and self-expression.

Each position on the pole, each measured movement of my legs or core or arms brought a different thought and answer.

What do I do about Jax?

Tell him. That was the only thing I could do—suck it up and tell him the truth about the baby. It didn’t matter what he did for a living. He had a right to know, not that I’d ever truly doubted my capability to tell him.

I gripped the top of the pole with both hands and shimmied against it, arched my back and dipped backward, then snapped upright again.

Anything for you.

Tears welled in the corners of my eyes. I’d do whatever it took to keep this child warm and safe. I’d make sure that this little boy or girl had a better life than I had, and I’d support its decisions, no matter what.

I practiced my Iron X, tension spreading in my core, pain that was almost sweet. I held the position for as long as I could then lowered myself to the ground, sweating. I checked the time on the clock, illuminated slightly by a sheath of light from the lampposts outside, and sighed.

I’d been dancing for an hour with short breaks. Veronica would be tearing her hair out at home, freaking out. She’d already left me a voice message, though I couldn’t bring myself to listen to it yet. She’d either spit fire and brimstone or apologize, and I couldn’t stand either right now.

Ron had been with me through thick and thin, but her behavior over the past month and a bit had been bizarre. Jax had brought out an insecure side of her I’d never seen before.

I shook the thoughts from my head, fetched my coat and cell phone from the stack of chairs in the corner, and hurried out of the dance hall, loathing the fact I hadn’t brought a gym bag with me or any water, for that matter. I stopped in the bathroom and drank from the faucet, then opened the small window I’d come through. Easy in, easy out—I squirmed through ass first and lowered myself to the alley on the other side.

“Easy,” I whispered and did a mock gymnast’s landing position, then clapped my hands. “Everything will be fine.”

“No, it won’t be,” a voice said from the end of the darkened alleyway sandwiched between the studio and the construction site next to it.



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