Bad Boy’s Revenge(81)

“That was before.”

“You need to plan for what comes after.” Jolene hesitated. “The offer for your job stands, but I can’t allow the scandal into my office. If you come back to work, I want you to be alone.”

“What?”

“Break it off with him before it gets too complicated and you’ll have your old job with a raise and perks. Leah, I chose you to be my assistant because you’d be a partner one day. Have the baby, and after he or she is born, we’ll make the arrangements for you to get that promotion.”

My heart fluttered, thudded, and crushed. This wasn’t happening. My dream job floated within my grasp, and all I had to do was reach out, take it, and seize everything I ever wanted. The baby. The career. The prospects.

But no Jack.

Tears prickled my eyes. I couldn’t turn on him. Not now, not for a raise or promotion or offer that would give me a comfortable life. I would never trap myself in a passionless existence again. Before him, I hadn’t understood what I needed in life. I did now.

He gave me passion, excitement, and romance. He taught me to take one day at a time instead of scheduling life fifteen years into the future. He took care of me. Made love to me. Fought so hard for to me to see that he had changed and wanted that commitment.

Jack pleaded with me to be honest. He wanted to know what I thought of him.

The answer was easy. He was everything I needed to make my life whole.

“Jolene, I can’t accept this,” I said.

“Christ, Leah. Why not?”

I smiled as I said it, my heart fluttering as I finally admitted it out loud.

“Because I’m in love with Jack Carson.”

“Leah—”

I gripped the phone but hugged one of the baby’s stuffed animals. “I’m sorry, my answer is no.”

“I hope you’re sure about this.”

As sure as I was ever going to be about anything.

I ended the call. I told her, but someone else deserved to know how I felt. Somewhere, out in the world, Jack drowned in his own solitude and misery. No man I loved should ever have felt so alone when I was here waiting for him.

When me and his baby were waiting for him.

I set the stuffed animal on the ground and pushed from the chair.

The sharpness in my womb stopped me. It wasn’t just discomfort. Standing caused a spike of pain through my body. I clutched my tummy. I took a step and felt it again.

Tears blurred my vision, but, as always, I had a plan, and it didn’t include panicking.

I held my phone tight and gripped the baby’s crib, my heart beating entirely too fast and terrified for the littlest trouble-maker. Jack’s phone went straight to voicemail. I steadied my voice as I left the message, hoping he’d get it before anything bad happened.

“Jack…it’s me. I think something’s wrong.” I held back my tears, but I hic-upped when another step pinched the pain inside me again. “Please call me. I have to go to the hospital.”





Chapter Twenty-One – Jack



Bryon was always down for a drink…or a line, though even I wasn’t that stupid.

One call and he had the crew assembled at his house, each person hauling a case of something more potent and expensive than the last. Beer. Wine. One particularly good-looking bottle of scotch.

We met in his living room because, as the rest of the team had so recklessly experienced, when a majority of Rivets met in public, it usually caused problems for both the establishment and the idiots inside who picked fights.

But tonight wasn’t about reliving old mistakes. Tonight was for making new ones. Apparently, that was all I was good for.

Jack Carson—trouble-maker, womanizer, delinquent.

Father?

Oh, not yet. I still had five and a half months to ruin my own life, let alone screw up the kid’s.

At least the baby had Leah. She had enough common sense and conviction to get what she needed out of life, even if it wasn’t me.

But why didn’t she want me? Didn’t she realize how much I fucking cared? What I’d do for her? What she and the baby had done to me?

And it was all for nothing. She didn’t even know that I…

Fuck it.

Bryon clapped my shoulder and shuffled me to his living room. His place was ten thousand square feet of a sty because he couldn’t stop harassing his maids long enough to let them clean the damn house. He puffed a cigar and pointed me to the couch.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked.

I didn’t grab my crutches on the way out of the house. I regretted it now. At least they gave the impression that I was hurt. With a limp, I looked like some heroic war vet to the three women Bryon had called specifically for our gathering. The women—two blondes and a girl with skin as dark as Leah’s—hurried to cuddle at my side. Bryon grinned. They crawled over the leather couch in miniskirts with nothing underneath.

Just the sort of trouble I liked.

Used to like.

Why did I once like this?

I couldn’t cast Leah from my mind, and the whores crowding me didn’t help. Leah had been the last woman to sit in my lap, and she turned my world upside down with the bump of her hips and the sexy smile she gave when I caressed her tummy.

She didn’t have a clue how amazing she was, and she got more beautiful by the day. I couldn’t wait to see what else the pregnancy did for her. She thought I wouldn’t be attracted to her once she grew too big. Christ, she’d be lucky if I could keep my hands off of her.

Had I ever told her that?

Did I ever tell her anything? I know what I’d felt in bed. Every time I took her was a more meaningful and romantic experience than the last, but I never thought to say the words that crushed me from the inside out.

Fuck, was I that stupid?

The blond snuggled too close and tried to whisper in my ear. I pushed her away.

“Jack, what the hell is wrong with you?” Bryon handed me a tumbler filled with something that was sure to burn my throat. “Drink, man. Get your dick sucked. Stop moping. You’re freaking me the fuck out.”

“Sorry.” I stared into the tumbler. Bryon took the couch across from me, my two loyal offensive lineman, Orlando and Marcus, on the other side of the room. “It’s just...Leah.”

“The bitch?”

“She’s not a bitch.” My voice rose. Bryon apologized. “She went to the doctor without me.”

Bryon shrugged. “Baby okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I didn’t go. She didn’t want me there.”

“Fuck man, sounds like she did you a favor. Who wants to spend their time in an OBGAGA-whatever the fuck it is. Fucking baby shit everywhere and ovaries.” Bryon shuddered. “Gives me the willies.”

“Yeah, and how many women ended up there because of you?”

“Ain’t no one suing me for paternity. You fucked yourself up there, son.”

No, I hadn’t. That baby and its mother were the greatest things in my life. I sipped the alcohol. It was a cheap scotch, but it did the job.

“You need to bust outta that relationship,” Bryon said. “That bitc—lady’s got you collared.”

“Don’t mind it.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t seem too happy now. Hell, we haven’t seen you out at all. Not a party unless Jack Carson makes an appearance, baby.”

I shrugged. “Been busy.”

“Dump her ass and get your life back.”

“It’s complicated.” Just the thought of losing Leah pitted my stomach. “She’s helping me. If I’m with her, it looks good to the league. You got me? And since they’re looking for any reason to fuck me over…”

Bryon glanced to the linemen. His lips twisted into a smile. “Jack, you worried about your position?”

“Wouldn’t you be?”

“Dude, fucking relax. Look.” His voice lowered as he gestured to our friends. “Matt’s doing okay, but you say the word, and we can make him a little less comfortable in the pocket.”

It was like he sucker-punched me. “What?”

“Just sayin’. Maybe some blocks get missed. Maybe he’s gotta hurry a couple passes. Matt ain’t got the skills you do. We made him look good. If you think it’ll help, we can make him look…not as good.”

“Jesus fuck, listen to yourself!” I nearly leapt off the couch. My knee didn’t cooperate, or I’d have split right then. “Christ, no! I’m not gonna let you throw the games because you want me under center. I want my position because I’m the best at it, not because—”

Bryon held his hands up. “Okay, okay. Just sayin’, Jack. Offer stands.”

“I don’t need it.” I set the glass down too hard, spilling the liquid. “And if I ever think one of you assholes isn’t putting in a hundred percent—”

“No one’s doing anything, Jack. Fucking calm down.” Bryon grinned. “We’re all friends here.”

He snapped his fingers, and one blonde slunk away to entertain Orlando and Marcus. They retreated to the corner of the room. Bryon kept the second blonde for himself.

The third woman waited for me, brushing ebony fingers along my chest.

“Thought she was more your type.” Bryon winked.

She wasn’t. Leah was. This girl was a poor imitation.

Her skin wasn’t Leah’s rich cocoa softness. Her touch on my shoulder wasn’t the timid tickle of Leah’s hand. I always had to tell Leah she was allowed to touch me, especially to hold on as I fucked her into oblivion every night in my bed.