Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 36002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
I scowl at her. “Smartass.”
We ride in silence until I take the exit. This has her sitting upright and looking around.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you to your house. Well, almost. You can walk from the corner. I don’t need anyone seeing us together.”
She shakes her head. “First of all, no. I’m not crawling back to my parents.”
I pull over to the side of the road and put the car in park.
“Too damn bad, Abs. You’re not coming home with me. Too many witnesses.”
Her shoulders deflate slightly and I feel like a dick for some reason. I hadn’t noticed it before, but she’s kind of gaunt. Too thin for someone eating for two. Dark circles ring her eyes and the usual mischief in them is dimmed.
“Where do you want me to take you then?”
She chews on her bottom lip on one corner, the lip ring plinking against her teeth. It makes me think of her lips in other ways that piss me off.
“I don’t know,” she murmurs. “I was trying to figure that out.”
“Where have you been staying?”
“Here and there.”
“Here and there,” I repeat, frowning. “What the hell does that even mean?”
She leans her head back and closes her eyes. “Can I just sleep here tonight?”
In my car on the side of the road? She really is insane.
“Abby,” I say, a warning in my voice. “Where am I taking you?”
She shrugs and her bottom lip wobbles. “I don’t know.”
That makes two of us.
“I just need a place to crash tonight,” she utters, voice thick with emotion. “Then I can see about getting my own place. Got a job that starts tomorrow.”
As much as I want to ask all the specifics about what sort of job she got, I bite my tongue. It’s in my best interest to not ask questions and get through tonight.
And her entire pregnancy.
Fuck.
I put the vehicle in drive and then hit the gas.
“You have some place in mind, baby daddy?”
“Don’t call me that,” I say with a grunt. “And, yes. It’s discreet. But you better be on your best behavior.”
She snorts at that. “Right. Because I’m so good at that.”
I may be able to hide this shit between us, but it’s never going away. I’m dating Angela and yet I’m out here late at night rescuing Abby like she’s my girl. My mistake is growing inside the wrong sister and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
Chapter 4
Abby
This night just keeps getting better and better.
My enemy had to come save me. I hate him for that. For getting me pregnant. For sleeping with me in the first place.
You didn’t hate it when he kissed you like you were the best thing he’d ever tasted in his entire life…
I sneak a peek over at Rhett as he drives. Everything about him screams confidence. I’m not usually attracted to the arrogant, self-assured guys that haunt the country club, but there’s a darkness inside Rhett that sang to me.
Plus, he’s genuinely hot.
At least our baby will be pretty.
The always present snark inside me dims as I imagine holding this baby one day. I didn’t exactly envision a guy like Rhett fathering a baby for me, but it’s happening. And, because he’s him, it’ll be cute and smart and likely athletic.
But it’ll also always be a stain on my family.
A mistake I gave literal life to.
When I think about this future baby in my arms, it doesn’t seem so awful, though. Aside from not being able to provide a home for it at the moment, I know I could love it. I’d do a hell of a lot better job than Mom did at loving me.
He asked me if I was ready to be a mother. I’m not. But I know deep down, I’ll figure out a way to be by the time this baby arrives.
So, I guess I’m not putting it up for adoption.
I sense that he’s going to hate that answer, especially considering that ten minutes ago, he wanted me to terminate the pregnancy. My palm goes to my stomach, and I cover it almost protectively.
Rhett can say whatever he wants, but this is my body, and I think I want to keep him.
Him?
I guess it’s better than calling it an it.
We drive in tense silence and neither of us speak until he pulls into an older townhouse community, Moonlit Gables. He drives past a building marked “laundromat,” past a unit with a sign in the yard, and then to one with a soccer net set up. The unit on the other side also has a soccer net and it’s evident the people in both townhomes use their combined yards to play full-on soccer games.
“Whose house are you dumping me off at?” I ask as he parks in front of the first soccer net unit.
“Riko Valentine. Er, last name is Blake now.” He sighs heavily as he shuts off the car. “He’s my best friend. His husband is Derek. They have an extra room you can stay in.”