Chapter 6

Great. Now I’m going to be sick for Christmas. Nola felt worse than ever when she woke up Wednesday morning, slammed with a fatigue she couldn’t explain not to mention a nausea that made her toes curl. She worried that something was dangerously wrong so she’d gone to her general doctor’s office and demanded an appointment in her sweetest voice. Though I’m sure the sickly grey pallor helped.

She hoped all she would need were antibiotics to get her through the next couple weeks which would be hectic. Things wouldn’t slow down for her until after the party next month. She couldn’t even think of what could be wrong with her, except maybe heartsickness because, try as she might, she couldn’t seem to erase the images of her and Bronx together. Legs entwined, bodies slick with sweat. He somehow knew her body, could trigger her pleasure with a literal flick of his wrist. His sexy grin and big hard body full of muscles. And the way he’d so easily dismissed her and spent the entire flight across the country flirting with the beautiful flight attendant. Asshole.

“Nola Boudreaux.”

She hopped up and followed the nurse down the hall, happy to see that despite everything in her life she had lost ten pounds. At least grief is good for something. By the time she left the doctor’s office forty five minutes later, Nola felt numb. In a state of shock. She’d never truly understood shock until that moment. The cold rush through her veins, stiff muscles that wouldn’t stop trembling. The sounds around her were muted all around her as she made her way to her car. This can’t be. Not when her life had only really truly begun. “Grammie, what am I supposed to do? I need you.” She gave herself ten minutes to cry all over her steering wheel before drying her eyes and pointing her car home while she called her boss. “Hey, Brooks, I’m not feeling well today so I think I’ll work from home if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure. Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

She shook her head even though he couldn’t see her. “No, I don’t need a thing other than some rest.” And maybe a time machine. No, that wasn’t fair. She would be happy about this. Soon, she promised herself because it really was good news. A baby was always a good thing, no matter the circumstances that created it. “Thanks, though. You’re the best.”

He paused for so long she knew his face was scrounged up into a scowl trying to figure out how to help her. “I’ll stop by after work.”

“No! Don’t. Please, Brooks, just let me rest. I’ll get anything you need done from home and tomorrow I’ll be in. I promise.”

He sighed, unhappy about her answer but she knew he’d respect her wishes. “Fine. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent you to D.C. but you did such damn good work. Even Bronx sung your praises.”

Doubtful. “I only did my job, Brooks.”

“All right. I see you’re feeling extra stubborn today so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yep. Bye.” She didn’t mean to be so short with her best friend but she still hadn’t yet processed the monumental change ahead of her. She couldn’t just chat and act like everything was normal. Not yet.

So she spent the day, between phone calls and emails, cleaning her house and cooking meals for the next few days in an effort to focus on something, on anything other than the fact that she was pregnant. With Bronx’s baby. “Oh my god!” Sagging onto the floor, she buried her face in her hands and waited for tears to come. Only, they didn’t. Couldn’t.

She didn’t have any tears for her altered, uncertain future. For the hardships she would face trying to balance a career and a child on her own. I can do this. I know I can. So she pushed herself off the floor and ate dinner in front of the TV the same way she and Grammie always did. Feeling lonely, she decided to call Max. “Hey, can you talk?”

“Sure, I’m just eating pizza and drinking scotch. What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think something is wrong?”

Max laughed. “Because you sound like someone just kicked your puppy. Tell Max what the problem is and who I need to throat punch.”

Nola was glad she decided to call Max who never failed to make her laugh. Even when she revealed her big secret, Max had joked about bigger boobs. “I have always wanted bigger boobs.”

“This is a great way to get them without having to replace all of your favorite bras forever.”

“I guess there’s the upside of being single and pregnant.” If there could be an upside.

“And who is the father because no offense, you don’t strike me as a hookup kind of chick.”

“I’m not, but this guy is my kryptonite. I know he’s all wrong for me but I just couldn’t help myself. So really, this is all on me.”

“Well, no offense Nola but his cock played a pretty huge role in the whole getting knocked up part of the equation. Have you told him?”

She shook her head even though Max couldn’t see her. “You and my doctor are the only ones who know.”

“If you need backup you know I’m down to help. In the meantime, you should just sit with the idea of being pregnant. See how you like it and then decide what you’ll do and when—or if—to tell the no good for you guy.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Max. You were just who I needed right now.”

“Anytime, but I should go because I can’t guarantee the solidness of my advice after my third scotch.”

With a laugh, she hung up and tidied the living room before she grabbed her laptop and went upstairs to ask Google what she needed to be the best mom she possibly could be.

After the third page of answers, she fell asleep with the laptop taking the spot that should have been occupied by a man. A good man who wanted to be a good dad.

* * *

Bronx sat at his desk deep in thought of a certain blonde who, despite all his efforts, wouldn’t leave his thoughts. Looking out over a snow covered Serendipity did nothing to improve his mood either. He didn’t even know the reason for his bad mood, only that all week he’d been surly and short-tempered. His morose thoughts were interrupted by a visitor. Nola.

“You left this on my desk,” she told him and placed the long familiar blue box in front of him. Turning on her heels, she picked up her pace, eager to put distance between them.

“No, I didn’t,” he told her before she reached the door again. “It’s for you.”

Nola froze, giving him a long minute to stare at the curve of her ass, the dip of her waist in that sexy little grey dress that teased a man with what was hidden underneath. “No, thanks.”

Bronx hopped up and made his way to the door, effectively blocking her exit. “You don’t want a bracelet? From Tiffany’s?”

She shook her head, gaze fixed on his chest instead of his face. “No, Bronx, I don’t need some parting gift just to make you feel better. Save it for your next weekly.” She pushed at his chest but he was eight inches taller than her and at least one hundred pounds of muscle. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Too bad.” Bronx smiled at her, feeling more invigorated right now in this moment than he had since they’d left the bed they shared in D.C. “Make time.”

Stepping back to put a few feet of distance between them, Nola crossed her arms and drew his attention to her plump cleavage. “I don’t want to talk to you. And I have work to do.”

Damn stubborn, woman. “You don’t have five minutes for me?”

Nola tightened her arms around herself and tilted her head in defiance. “No. I don’t.”

He didn’t want to be an even bigger bastard than he’d already been to her. But he would. “Fine. As your boss, I’m ordering you to sit here and listen to me. For five minutes.”

“No way! You can’t order me to sit here and talk about things not related to business.”

“The hell, I can’t. This is my company, doll face, and I can do whatever the hell I want. Now sit your pretty little ass down so we can talk, or you’re fired.”

She contemplated her next move. Bronx could tell she was considering walking out and losing her job. But he knew Nola, and even if she decided to leave, she wouldn’t leave Brooks in a bind during the holidays. “Whatever.” She stomped to the chair and dropped down in a very unlady-like fashion and waited. With a scowl.

“Thank you,” he said with a smug grin and took the chair beside her, pulling it close.

“I’m fine where I am. Please keep your hands to yourself.”

Sexy Ms. Prim and Proper has made an appearance. He grinned to himself and pushed her chair back. “Fine. I’m sorry, Nola.”

“Fine. Apology accepted, are we done?”

What? He never apologized to anyone. Ever. She should be smiling. Hell, she should feel special. “No, we’re not done until I say we are.” She crossed her arms and waited. “I shouldn’t have acted like an ass on the jet.”

Her gaze landed on a spot just over his shoulder, arms still crossed and mouth still noticeably shut.

“You don’t have anything to say?”

She sighed. “I’ve already accepted your apology, Bronx, what else do you want me to say?”

And that was the damn problem, he had no idea what he expected her to say. Did he want her to throw her arms around him and kiss him? Ask him to reconsider? Or was this some game to keep him on the hook? She wouldn’t be the first. Ah, little Nola is punching above her weight class. “It won’t work, Nola.”

She blinked. Oh, she was good. “What won’t work?”

“You can play that sweet and innocent role all you want but it won’t work. I’m not coming back and you won’t get a repeat.”

The noise of outrage that came from her little body should have warned him. “You arrogant bastard! Newsflash, Bronx, you’re not the best thing in the world and you certainly aren’t so irresistible that I can’t go on without you! Fire me if you want to but I’m out of here.”

He reached out and grabbed her arm before she was too far away and pulled her back until that firm round ass fell into his lap. “I don’t think so, Nola.” He speared his fingers through her hair, angling her head and slanting his mouth over hers. Damn, she tasted so good, like vanilla and cinnamon. Fuck, she tasted like Christmas and sex. He couldn’t get enough of her, licking inside her mouth while she sat there frozen. His hand landed on her thigh, sliding up, deepening the kiss until she relaxed against him. Melted into him.

Her hand went to his chest, caressing up and down and then pushing to get away from him. “No. Don’t think you can treat me like some damn tramp because of what happened between us!” She jumped off his lap and ran to the door and like a desperate school boy he followed her, slamming his hand against the door to stop her exit. “Let me go.”

“No.” He wouldn’t let her get away. Not this time. Bronx pressed his hips against her, pulling a reluctant moan from her pretty little mouth.

“Bronx,” she moaned, hands on his chest either to push him away or pull him closer. “We can’t do this.”

“The hell, we can’t. We are,” he told her, hands on her ass and lifting her up. When her legs wrapped around him, Bronx knew he had her and set her on the desk, pushing important documents aside to make room. Pushing that sexy little dress up her legs and to her waist, Bronx slowly removed her panties and shoved them in his pocket before sinking to his knees. “Tell me you want this, Nola.”

The sexy little whimper she released when his finger slid deep sent fire straight to his cock. “You know I do,” she told him. The even if I don’t want to went without saying because he could see it in her eyes.

Then his mouth was on her pussy, licking and sucking, fucking her until those little cries grew deeper, intense. Until her hips began to grind against his mouth. Damn, she tasted as sweet as honey with a hint of raw sex thrown in. Her sweet honey dripped down his throat and he couldn’t tamp down his need for her. “Fuck, Nola.”

“Yes,” she eagerly agreed, crying out when he slammed into her.

Mouth to hers, Bronx swallowed her cries and moans of pleasure as his cock slid deep, loving the way she clamped tight around him. The way her pussy flooded with desire for him only amped up his own desire. Thrusting, pounding deep as her legs wrapped around him, drawing him in deeper. It was a passionate fuck, not angry but certainly not loving.

He wouldn’t want it to be loving but he didn’t want to hate fuck Nola, either.

“Oh hell,” she moaned and then her body convulsed, sucked him, milked him dry as he drove deeper and harder until his own pleasure washed over him, left him pulsing deep inside her sexy little body.

“Fuck! Nola!”

Bronx had barely stopped trembling when Nola pushed at his chest and slid off the desk. “You feel better now?”

He frowned, trying to catch up with the conversation. “What?”

“You’ve proven your point. I can’t resist you and we both know it. Keep your bracelet, we’re even now.” She turned away and made it to the door without his interference. The door closed with a quiet click instead of the vicious slam he’d expected.

Yeah, I got it. He’d screwed up an apology. How in the hell did someone screw up an apology that began with a twenty thousand dollar bracelet from the world’s premier jeweler and ended with a good hard orgasm?

He didn’t know but that was one hell of an orgasm.