ROMANCE: BAD BOY ROMANCE: Basketball Daddy (BWWM Alpha Male Billionaire Pregnancy Romance) (African American Unexpected Pregnant Contemporary Romance) (110 page)

“Jesus!” Janice screeched when she turned and nearly bumped into Aron at the door. Her initial surprise at finding a man standing behind her turned to excitement, then disbelief.

“You’re Aron Keels!” she screeched, and her hands flew to her mouth. Janice was still in college, a few years younger than Chelsey and Aron, but everybody in town knew Aron Keels, the local legend. Heck, everybody in the country knew Aron Keels, the national NHL heartthrob.

Aron hadn’t looked at her, and he still didn’t. He continued staring at Ruby while Janice stood with widened eyes beside him.

“Janice, can we please talk later?” Chelsey spoke up, breaking the silence. Aron seemed frozen in his place, while Janice stood staring up at him in disbelief.

“Janice…please.” Chelsey urged again, and finally Janice turned to Chelsey and raised her eyebrows.

“You know each other?” she asked, and Chelsey sighed.

“Janice. Please leave,” she said, more sternly this time. The other girl huffed, squeezed past the frozen statue of Aron and grudgingly walked away.

“Please close the door behind you,” Chelsey said quietly, and turned around to place Ruby back on the couch. She had been giggling and stretching her short pudgy arms towards Aron. The girl had always been very friendly with strangers.

Chelsey heard the door shut behind her and sensed Aron walking closer towards them.

“Is this your daughter?” Aron finally said, and Chelsey took her time, straightening up and then turning to face him again. There was no denying it. In fact, she wasn’t going to lie to anybody about her child.

“Yes,” she said, as flatly as she could, and crossed her arms. Aron seemed to be dumbstruck. His gaze kept flitting between her and the smiling face of Ruby.

“How old is she?” he asked, after several seconds of silence.

“She turned two last month,” Chelsey said, still glaring at him. She couldn’t believe he had followed her and found where she lived, or that she hadn’t been more careful. All of this was her fault.

“I don’t believe this. You have a two-year-old child,” he said, more to himself than to her. She could barely hear him speak. He was staring at Ruby on the couch, who was giggling and smiling up at him. Chelsey watched as her daughter had the same effect on Aron as she did on Chelsey. His heart was melting, and she could see the strength of the pull that Ruby had on him.

She hadn’t responded to Aron, and they stood in silence again.

“Is she mine?” Aron asked, finally turning to his gaze back towards her. Chelsey remained silent and then looked away. She didn’t want to break into tears. She wasn’t prepared for this moment. She had trained herself into believing that this day would never come.

“She’s mine isn’t she? I have a daughter,” Aron said and, without invitation, he stretched out his arms towards Ruby, who willingly snuggled up to him in a tight cuddle. Chelsey watched quietly as the scene unfolded. Ruby was in the arms of her father, a man she had never met before. As much as it was killing her inside, she was happy for her daughter.

“Why would you keep this from me, Chelsey? Why would hide my daughter from me?” His voice had changed. He was the angry one now. She flinched and then took a few steps away from him.

“I knew you wouldn’t have wanted her. Why would you? You had your career and stardom to look forward to,” she said, and then turned her face from him. The picture of Ruby in Aron’s arms was enough to make her knees weak. She didn’t want to lose control of her senses.

“I wouldn’t want my own daughter? My daughter with you? You were the girl I dreamt of every night for the past three years. I didn’t even know we had a child together,” he said, and took a few steps towards her. Ruby was still in his arms, playing with his earlobes. Chelsey looked at him again, the tears threatening to gush out. She didn’t know how to respond to him.

“I didn’t want to come home because I didn’t want to be reminded of you. Every other relationship I had, I ruined, because I couldn’t get you out of my mind. Because I never gave you a chance, never gave us a chance.” Aron’s voice was breaking now. The emotions of finding out that he was a father, that he had been for two years now, had overtaken him. Chelsey’s lips quivered. She stood still, allowing him to inch closer towards her.

“Is that why you never went to New York?” he asked, and she nodded.

“You’ve been doing this all by yourself? Stuck here in this town by yourself? Living in this place?” he asked, looking about him at her cramped apartment, at the damp spots on the ceiling. Chelsey looked away from him, embarrassed. She didn’t know what to say to him. She wanted him to stop feeling guilty or blaming himself.

“I didn’t know what else to do, or how else to take care of Ruby. My mother didn’t want anything to do with me. I had no money. At least I had a part time job at the salon here. In New York, all I had was an internship offer. I couldn’t put my newborn baby through that.” The words tumbled out of her. Her hands were shaking.

“Ruby. My daughter’s name is Ruby,” Aron said, as if in a daze. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me, Chelsey. Everything is going to change now,” he said, taking the last few steps to close the gap between their bodies.

“We have a child together. You and I. It’s like I was searching for something all these years, when I had the perfect life waiting for me right here, at home,” he said, gently stroking Ruby’s back. With his other hand, he grabbed Chelsey’s hand and pulled her towards him. She bit down on her lip and smiled. He was going to kiss her. He was going to make all her dreams come true.

*****

THE END

Bonus Book 23: The Cowboy's Surprise Baby

By:
Ava Walsh

Description

A curvy city girl on a mission PLUS a dangerously hot cowboy who cannot be trusted PLUS a past shrouded in mystery...

Teresa Fontaine is a city girl. Born and raised in New York, she has a successful editorial career at a fashion magazine and cannot fathom a life that is not cosmopolitan.

That is, until the person closest to her, her father, passes away.

On his deathbed, he makes her promise that she will make a trip to Texas, to his childhood home in a small town called Klaire. He entrusts her with the task of selling their cottage and the ranch which nobody has bothered to look after for decades. Teresa grudgingly accepts for the sake of her father’s peace, but it turns out to be more of a challenge than she had expected.

Unlike Teresa, Derek Mason is running away from city life. He moved to Klaire recently to get away from things he wants to forget. He has bought himself a mansion using his illustrious family’s money, and all he wants now is to lock himself away from the outside world and live a life of farming solitude. When Teresa’s family home goes on the market, he is an interested buyer.

Teresa meets a mysterious cowboy, a rugged farmer, someone who nobody in town seems to trust, but who she sees is an irresistible man with a past he doesn’t want to divulge.

Will a passionate encounter on a motorcycle lead to more? Or will his mysterious past come back to haunt them?

Teresa had been driving for several hours, but she still hadn’t tired of the wind blowing her hair back. She was in her new, shiny red convertible with the top down, with music blasting and with her oversized, bug-eye sunglasses on. She wasn’t thrilled to be making this trip, but if she was being forced to do it, then she’d do it on her own terms.

Texas was new to her. She had never been in this part of the country before, even though this was where her grandparents were born and where her parents grew up. Teresa was a city girl through and through. Her parents rarely ever spoke about Texas and she herself wasn’t interested in hearing about it. So when, on his deathbed, her father made her promise that she would go back to Klaire and oversee the sale of their farm, she was as shocked as she was saddened by the request.

Teresa was close to her father. She had lost her mother when she was fifteen, so for the next ten years, her dad was her only family. Despite growing up listening to him lecture her on values and the lessons he had learned from his own life, he had barely ever spoken about Klaire, the small Texan town he had grown up in. Now, all of a sudden, minutes before he drew his last breath, he had declared to her that his last wish was for her to take care of the farm, sell it if she had to, but to visit his childhood home at least once.

Her father’s death broke her heart. She had never felt more alone in the world.  She knew she had to keep the promise she had made and decided to take a few months off from her busy work schedule at the magazine.

Now she was driving down to Klaire, with the GPS guiding her every move, feeling more lost than ever. What wild goose chase had her father sent her on? Without wishing to tarnish his memory, Teresa couldn’t help but shake her head in irritation. Even from the grave, it seemed that her father was trying to teach her a few more life lessons.

She was tired now, and the GPS showed that she was still half an hour away from the town. The terrain had changed drastically since she entered the state of Texas, and Teresa was still trying to get used to the rocky, sandy skyline all around her, as compared to the concrete jungle she was usually surrounded by, and which she called home.

Her heart skipped a beat when Teresa noticed a gas station coming up. She slowed down her car, and the engine eventually roared to a stop. She knew her hair was in complete disarray, but she didn’t care. She desperately needed something to drink.

She jiggled the key out of the ignition, locked the doors and slowly stepped out of the car. The gas station seemed to be deserted except for a large motorbike parked to the side, leaning against a wall. A small store with glass doors stood in the middle of it. From where Teresa was, that looked deserted as well. She decided to try her luck nevertheless.

She was wearing a knee-length, black, lycra skirt and an expensive pair of high leather boots that she’d received as a gift from a designer line she was writing a feature about in the magazine recently. The boots were new and the heels were too high, and she could feel them pinching her toes as she walked. The thin, white blouse she was wearing flapped in the soft, warm breeze, sticking the fabric to her torso, and Teresa was aware that the red, lace bra she was wearing underneath must have been made visible. Her thick, black curls settled around her shoulders now and she flipped them behind her neck as she walked. Her dark, olive skin shone in the bright, harsh sun and her chocolate eyes sparkled. All of this was an adventure, which even a few days ago she wasn’t prepared for.

A bell placed directly above the glass door tinkled when Teresa pushed it open and walked into the store. It was cramped and small.

An old man with a bulging belly was sitting with his feet up on the counter. He had dozed off with a newspaper in his hands. There was one more man sitting on a red deli-style couch by the window at the opposite side, with his back towards her. The shop seemed to also serve as a deli, with no more than four seats available.

She walked up to the counter and cleared her throat loudly, seeing that the tinkling of the bell hadn’t woken up the old man behind the counter or made the other man on the couch turn around to look at her.

“Excuse me.” She watched with a smile on her face as the man fumbled with the paper in his hands, waking up with a shock. He nearly fell off his chair in an effort to straighten himself up.

“Hello there, miss,” he said, a big grin spreading across his face as he stood up.

“Hello,” Teresa said with a smile and noticed how the man looked at her. She was used to the effect she had on men, she never went unnoticed anywhere, but the man was looking at her with curiosity here, not simply male appreciation.

“What can I do you for?” he asked as Teresa looked around at the shelves behind him. She was hoping to find some sort of board or a sign with a menu, but there was none.

“I was wondering what food you served?” she asked, turning slightly to tilt her head towards the man sitting on the couch, who had still not looked at her.

“I’m afraid only coffee and scrambled eggs. That’s all I can make,” the man said, with a loud laugh. It was infectious, his happy, casual nature, and Teresa smiled too.

“I’ll have that then. Thank you,” she said, and turned to walk over to one of the empty seats on the couch facing the other man. She would have to share with him, as there was only one table at the deli.

She was aware of her heels clicking against the old, yellowing tiles of the store as she walked, and she was glad there weren’t more people in the shop.

Slowly, she slid into the seat and plonked her small leather tote on the white linoleum table.

She studied the man sitting in front of her, who had a thick book in his hands and was deep in concentration. His face was large and young, with a sharp jaw and a square, tapering chin. His eyes were downcast, focused on the book, but she noticed how blue they were, almost the color of the sea she had waded around in the Bahamas last summer. His hair was sandy blonde and brushed back away from his face, although some strands fell over his eyes now as his eyes flitted over the words on the page. He looked like someone on the cover of a vintage magazine or a black and white advertisement selling cigarettes. He had that trademark leather hat on, and was wearing a green and black plaid shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Teresa could hardly believe it. She didn’t think anybody in her generation dressed that way anymore. Was he trying to prove something?

He suddenly looked up while she was staring at him, and their eyes met. She had never seen a look that fierce before, blue, narrowed eyes staring back at her. Teresa looked away sharply and out of the window, embarrassed to have been caught staring. She sensed that he was still looking at her, and she could feel herself growing nervous. Had she offended him? Was he going to say something to her?

The old man walked up to the table right then, with an empty mug in his hand which he placed on the table in front of her. From a jug he poured in some black coffee and pointed to the small cup of milk and pot of sugar on the table, which Teresa hadn’t noticed till then.

“Thank you,” Teresa said to him, genuinely thankful that he had walked over right then, relieving her nervousness of being watched by this modern day cowboy, if only a little.

As the old man walked away, Teresa reached for the cup of milk when suddenly the man grabbed the cup himself. She felt her breath catch in her throat. She was surprised by his sudden movement. Without saying a word and with his eyes still on her, he reached over and started pouring the milk into her coffee. Just a few splashes, before he stopped and put the cup down. Next, he dragged the pot of sugar over and, without looking at his hands, he dug out a spoon of sugar and poured it into her coffee again. With the same spoon, he stirred her coffee and then placed the spoon next to her.

Teresa had no idea what was going on. What she was supposed to do or say? Why had he done that? They were complete strangers. Moreover, why did he continue to glare at her that way as he did it?

Nonetheless, she couldn’t pull her gaze away from him. It was as though her eyes were glued on him. He folded his arms across his chest now and sat back in his seat.

Teresa gingerly reached for her mug of coffee. She slowly grabbed it and brought it to her lips. He was watching her still. She took a sip and it was perfect, just the way she liked it.

“Thank you,” she blurted out suddenly and the man took in a deep breath. Teresa was holding her breath, in anticipation of hearing his voice or seeing what he did next. Instead of saying anything, he simply lifted his right hand to the rim of his hat and gave it a soft tilt. Teresa bit down on her lip, unable to smile or do anything. This was all too new and strange to her. Who was this man?

Without warning, he suddenly stood up. Grabbing the book from the table now, he turned around and walked away. At the counter, he tipped his hat to the old guy who had sat back down on the chair again.

“Good day, Derek,” the old man said, with a cheerful smile on his face. With that, the cowboy had walked out of the shop and out of Teresa’s line of vision.

She remained seated, stock-still, with the mug of coffee still in her hands.

What had just happened? Was it all some kind of desert mirage? Did a real life cowboy just make her some coffee without asking?

She wanted to blurt out laughing. It was all so strange, in fact, that she didn’t know how she should react. At the counter, the old man started to doze off again. Teresa reached for her bag and rummaged around in it for her phone. She absolutely had to text her friend Carey and tell her what had happened, she thought. When she touched the screen of the phone to unlock it, she discovered that there was no network coverage. She had now entered a part of the country where she had no signal on her cellphone. What was she going to do without social media? Or without keeping track of her magazine’s website or how well her recent feature article was doing?

Once again, Teresa thought about her father and rolled her eyes. He really knew how to put her on edge.