A knock strikes my front door.

  I instantly sit up on my bed, torn from sleep. Not that I wasn’t jolting awake every three minutes anyway just thinking about how fucked up my day has been.

  The knocking continues. A hard, unyielding pound.

  “Open up, asshole!”

  I smile and make my way down the hall toward the door in nothing but my slacks. Sounds like someone got a call from Trisha Wells.

  I open the door, instantly drawn to Daisy’s stunning blue eyes. She lowers her fist, her chest heaving in and out as she stares up at me.

  “Hey, Dais—”

  “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  I drop my grin, admiring the adorable pink puffs taking over her cheeks. She fights the obvious urge to gawk at my chest before shoving past me into the room.

  “Would you like to come in?” I ask the empty hallway before closing the door.

  “Well?” she asks.

  “Well, what?”

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” she repeats.

  “I thought that was rhetorical.”

  “I need to set up some boundaries here.” She holds up a finger. “First, you don’t get to recommend me for jobs.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I said so.”

  I shake my head. “No. I saw an opportunity to help you and I took it.”

  “Second.” She holds up another finger. “You don’t get to decide if I need help.”

  “No, you’re right. But you do,” I say. “And you walking into Bruno’s that night was an obvious cry for help.”

  She scoffs. “No, it wasn’t.”

  “You’re carrying my baby, Daisy,” I say. “I’m going to help you.”

  “I didn’t ask for your help!”

  “I got the feeling you never would, so I did what I thought would be best for my child. You’re not the only parent here.”

  She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m turning down the job. I don’t need your pity.”

  “This isn’t—” I stop, holding back my anger. “You know what, Daisy? You ever think that maybe it’s not a line of text missing from your résumé that’s fucked up your life so much? That maybe it’s just you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me! How many times have you ever asked for help? Or accepted help? How many times have you ever relied on anyone but yourself? Life is a team sport, Daisy. Maybe you’d be better off right now if you weren’t such a stubborn, selfish brat.”

  Her jaw drops. She steps back, just barely holding herself up. “Oh, wow,” she says, her eyes glossing over. “That was really hurtful.”

  Guilt stabs my chest. “Christ, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why—”

  “No, it’s good. I, uh…” She sniffs at the floor. “I really needed to hear that.”

  I watch her eyes shake, filling with tears. “Are you sure?”

  She nods and her lip trembles. “I kind of liked it.”

  I furrow my brow. “What?”

  “Do it again.”

  “Huh?”

  She waves her hand, gesturing toward herself. “Tell me what you really think.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Hurry! Before I change my mind.”

  “Uh… I think the jealousy you have for your sister is petty and stupid. She’s not smarter than you are. You’re just lazier than she is.”

  “Whoa.” Tears spill down her cheeks. “Okay. What else?”

  “I think the real reason you — yes, you — sabotage your relationships is because you don’t get enough attention when you’re happy.”

  Her face falls, and she lets out a loud, gut-wrenching sob.

  I wince. “Ah, shit.”

  “I’m fine!” She holds her face and cries.

  I step forward and reach out to her, but my hands just kind of hover in the space between us. “Yeah, you look fine,” I say.

  She laughs and wipes her eyes. “No one’s ever talked to me like that before.”

  “I’m sorry. I—” Her wet fingers grip my slacks and she pulls me in until our bodies touch. “Daisy, what are you doing?”

  “Keep going,” she whispers.

  Her fingertips strike fire on my skin as she rakes them down my abs. “Daisy—” She pushes up to kiss my neck and I pause. “Are you sure you wanna be—”

  “Please, Hunter,” she says, her hot breath tickling me. “Don’t stop.”

  I rest my hands on her shoulders, ready to guide her back, but that sweet tongue of hers laps at my earlobe and turns me stupid. “Okay. There’s definitely something happening here.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Is this a hormonal thing?”

  She sniffs. “I’m fine. This is fine.”

  I try to speak, but she kisses me, forcing her tongue deep into my mouth. I kiss her back, unable to help myself as she eases her hands into my pants, sliding around me to cup my ass with both palms.

  “Whoa—!” I say, breaking our lip lock. “You really want to do this again, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she moans, gripping my hard cock. “And you do, too.”

  “Oh, I do.” I nod. “I’m just having a difficult time with the whole crying thing.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I know, I know.” She gives me a master stroke and I grunt with pleasure. “But…”

  “Hunter, please,” she says, staring up at me with those glistening eyes. “I understand your concerns… but I really, really need this. Right now.”

  Fuck it.

  I kiss her, hard and fast, as she presses her body even harder against mine. We stumble down the hall, bumping into the walls and doorways until I finally fall backwards onto my bed.

  She lowers her jeans and panties to the floor and kicks them away before mounting me and taking my cock in her capable fingers again.

  “Wait—” I say, snatching her wrist. “I don’t have a condom.”

  She raises her brow. “Seriously?”

  My eyes fall to her stomach. “Oh, right. Never mind.”

  I pull her down to kiss her, falling even deeper in lust. She guides my tip downward and rubs herself on it, sparking her own desires as I sit back and watch.

  Her hips rock on me and she moans. I’m rock hard and throbbing, ready to explode, as she takes me inside of her. Her tightness engulfs me. She rides my bare cock and I feel everything, every twitch and squeeze deep inside of her. It melts me to the bone, but I focus it all on her, determined to give her what she needs.

  She moans for me as I thrust upward, meeting her perfect bounce.

  “Harder.”

  I take hold of her hips and she leans forward to rest her palms on my chest, holding herself up as she grinds.

  I groan. “Holy shit.”

  Her expression shifts, sliding from blissful relaxation to an ecstatic frown as she approaches climax.

  “I want you to come with me,” she says with a breathy moan. “I want you to come in me.”

  I bite my cheek, floored by the obvious taboo, and my balls clench. Any other time, any other woman, and I’d deny her, but I look up into the eyes of the mother of my child and I can’t stop. I fuck her faster, barreling toward home plate, and I can tell by that crease in her brow that she’s about to let it all go.

  Her pussy seizes around me. I do as she wants and I come hard, unloading inside of her. It feels just as good — make that better — than I thought it would. Feeling that warmth wrapped around me, pumping every unprotected drop. It fires stars through my vision. I lose all track of my senses while she writhes on me.

  Daisy leans forward and balances on her arms. I look up at her, admiring the sweat on her brow and the subtle twitch of her whole body. I cup her face and she opens her eyes, still glistening from forgotten tears. I kiss her, ignoring the oxygen my body needs in favor of that brief intimacy, and she envelopes her sweet lips over mine.

  Finally, she pulls away and slides off me to catch her breath.

  “Fine,” she says.

  I look up, barely able to raise my head. “What?”

  She disappears into the hallway bathroom. “I’ll take the damn job.”

  I collapse back down and smile, listening to the soothing sound of the showerhead bursting on. “All right,” I mutter, resting my eyes.

  “But…”

  I flinch, sensing her voice right above me.

  She stares down with her hands on her naked hips. “But you and I have to try and make this work.”

  “Okay.” I sit up on my elbows. “What—”

  She retreats into the bathroom, sliding her shirt up over her head as she goes.

  “Daisy?” I ask my empty bedroom.

  I stand, pulling my slacks up as I move into the bathroom. Warm steam hits my face and I see her form moving behind the shower curtain.

  “Make what work, Daisy?” I ask her.

  “This,” she says, shouting over the gushing water. “You and me.”

  I blink. “You want us to… get married?”

  The shower shuts off. I grab the nearest towel from the cabinet and offer it to her.

  “I want us to start from the beginning,” she says, taking the towel and patting her cheeks dry.

  “Start from the beginning?”

  She steps out of the shower. “You’d rather get married?”

  I back up to give her room to dry off. “Not really.”

  “Because I think this is the more rational idea. There’s no sense in tying knots to each other. We’re total strangers.”

  “I agree.”

  “You do?”

  “… I think?”

  Daisy hands the towels back to me and grabs her clothes off the toilet seat. “Look, I just know that this kid deserves a family and we owe it to — at least — try to be one. Getting to know each other seems like the best place to start. If it doesn’t work out, then…” She pulls her jeans up. “Then, I’m sure it’ll make some family very happy.”

  I nod. There’s no better logic in the world, but it still terrifies me. “You’re right,” I say.

  She throws her shirt on and steps around me. “So, I guess I’ll see you at the game tomorrow.”

  “Wait…” I follow her from the bathroom. “What happened with the doctor today? What did they say?”

  “Oh.” She reaches into her pocket for her phone. “I had an ultrasound.”

  My phone chimes on my bedside table. I go to grab it and swipe open the attached photo.

  A baby drenched in black and gray. My baby.

  Daisy moves in next to me and points at it. “It’s that thing there.”

  “Yeah, I figured,” I say.

  “Sixteen weeks, she said.”

  “Sixteen, that’s…” I try to do the math in my head, but fail.

  “November.” She nods. “It’s yours… since you’re probably going to ask that again.”

  Mine.

  “No. I, uh…” I clear my throat. “I wasn’t.”

  “Everything seems healthy so far,” she says. “Strong heartbeat and all that.”

  I suck in a breath. “It has a heartbeat.”

  “Yep.”

  “Could you see…” I swallow hard. “Is it a boy? A girl?”

  “We couldn’t tell,” she says with a shrug. “Doc said to come back in a month, should have better luck then. Anyway, it went well otherwise. It’s due in August.”

  “August,” I repeat, my eyes still locked on my phone. “So, you’ll be sticking around town until then?”

  “Until the end of the season, at least,” she says. “Trisha said the magazine will handle my relocation. I’m meeting with her tomorrow to work out the details.”

  She continues toward the door. My feet force me forward.

  “And you’ll be staying… where? With your sister?” I ask.

  Daisy pauses, exhaling hard. “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet,” she says. “The only other option is to move back in with my mother in Evanston, which I do not want to do.”

  “Stay here,” I hear myself say.

  She blinks twice. “What?”

  “You can stay here,” I say again. “I have an extra room. It’s yours.”

  “You…” Daisy stands a little taller. A little firmer. “You want me to move in?”

  “Yes.”

  “With you?”

  “Yes.”

  She scoffs.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Moving in together is not starting from the beginning, Hunter.”

  “So we’re doing things a little out of order,” I say. “You need a place to stay. I have room to spare. We’re total strangers now, but by the end of the month, we could be best buds on our way to…” I glance at her stomach. “Loving parents.”

  Daisy doesn’t reply. She looks down, her cheeks still flush.

  “I’m in, Daisy,” I say. “If I didn’t make that part clear before. I want to make this work. You and me.”

  She takes a breath and nods. “I’ll think about it,” she says. “Goodnight, Hunter.”

  “Goodnight, Daisy.”

  She closes the door behind her, leaving me to stare at the ultrasound on my phone.

  Start from the beginning.

  Yeah, right.

  How is that even possible now that a tiny heartbeat is involved?

  CHAPTER 12

  DAISY

  “Okay,” I say. “I’m freaking out now.”

  I stare at Rose’s open closet, stacks of her clothes scattered around the bedroom.

  Rose sits on the bed, doing her best to keep them in neat piles as I toss one thing after the other. “You weren’t freaking out before?” she asks.

  “Rose.”

  “Been a big day.”

  “Rose.”

  “I mean, I’d have been curled up in a fetal position since the moment that doctor—”

  “Rose.”

  She looks up. “What?”

  “What do I wear?” I ask.

  “What do you wear?”

  “What do I wear?”

  “That’s what you’re freaking out about?”

  “Yes!” I face the closet again, grabbing the first blouse I see. “I only brought three T-shirts and a pair of jeans on this trip. All of my clothes are in Boston — not that I have anything in my closet worthy of Trisha Wells’ presence and — dear god, woman, how many pencil skirts does one girl need?”

  “More than you’d think,” she says, grabbing a pink top off a pile and holding it against her chest.

  “Rose.” I yank it off her. “Help me. Please.”

  She smiles. “You really are freaking out about this.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Okay.” She sits forward. “What does a sports photographer usually wear?”

  “Uh…” I think for a moment. “I don’t know.”

  “Okay, we’ll Google that. But first and foremost, you are pregnant, so I would recommend dressing for comfort above all else. Nothing too snug.”

  “But I’m working with Trisha Wells. The woman is a walking fashion show. I don’t want to look horrible next to her.”

  “Professional first,” she says with a nod. “Comfort second.”

  “But Hunter and I are trying the relationship thing,” I say. “You want to look as sexy as possible at first, right?”

  “Okay. Hot first, then professional, then comfort.”

  “Wow.” I sigh. “And they say women can’t have it all.” I take a deep breath, but it instantly escapes. “Freak out increasing now.”

  Rose stands and takes my hands. “Daisy…”

  “I need a drink.”

  “You can’t have a drink. You’re pregnant.”

  “I guess I can’t have it all.” I exhale hard. “What do I do?”

  “Here, sit down.” She guides me to the bed. I plop down and she reaches for a cup on the bedside table. “Drink this.”

  “What’s in it?”

  “Water,” she says. “It’s good for you. Trust me.”

  I groan, but I gulp it down.

  “Now, we prioritize,” she says. “If you ask me, you already have Hunter’s attention — and his seed — so you don’t have to worry that much about looking hot all the time.”

  “Your logic is sound,” I say into the cup.

  She leans over and rifles through a stack of clothes. “We can be professional and comfortable. Luckily, you’re a photographer, not a journalist, so you can get away with comfy clothes you can move around in. I doubt Trisha will mind. It’s expected. Lots of bending and twisting. Flats only. Save your feet.”

  I smile. “You’re really good at this.”

  “Strangely, I learned it from watching you.”

  “Rose.” I reach for her hand. “I’m really sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have unloaded on you like that. I was a real… asshole.”

  “Well, I wasn’t gonna say it.”

  “You did.”

  “Oh.” She smirks. “Right. Forgot about that.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say again.

  She squeezes my palm. “I know. Besides, I knew something had to be wrong with you. Can’t say I expected baby, though.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “But hey, now you get to play the hormone card to get away with saying something snarky. That should be fun for you.”

  “You’re right.” I chuckle. “It’ll certainly come in handy Monday morning when I call Malcolm to let him know I’m quitting the photo studio job without notice.”

  “How do you think that’ll go down?”

  “I’m thinking I might fake an emotional breakdown and just start bawling until he hangs up on me.”

  “That’s obviously the most mature solution,” she quips.

  “Sorry I messed up your spring break,” I say.

  “You haven’t.” She picks through shirts again. “I’m gonna be an aunt. Doesn’t get more exciting than that.”

  I chuckle. “Right.”

  “While you’re working, I’ll relax. Hang with John. Maybe go visit Mom for a day before school starts again.”

  I wince. “Please don’t tell her about this.”

  “The fancy new job or your baby daddy?”

  “Both.”

  She arches a brow. “Daisy.”

  “I will tell her everything. When I’m ready.”

  “And when will that be?”

  “Soon.”