A brand new novel is releasing tomorrow from Stacey Lynn—where a one night stand with a tatted-up alpha ends with a surprise pregnancy—and I have a sneak peek for you.
“Can I help you?” Braxton asks. His voice is so brisk, so hardened, I falter, going back a step before regaining my balance.
He’s looking at me like I’m a complete stranger.
This is more mortifying than I’d imagined. I’m not much to sneeze at, but was I so forgettable to a guy like this? Yowch. This stings. The night with him had been the most adventurous night I’d ever had. I let loose in a way I hadn’t since before Jimmy’s death over a year ago and it’d been thrilling. He’d given me more than one thing I’d never experienced before.
Perhaps that’s the problem. Hormones and a first time orgasm with a man have muddled my mind, making it seem more spectacular than it truly was. Hell, for a guy like him, it’s probably a nightly thing. Weekly minimal.
“Hey, Braxton. I’m Cara, a friend of Jenna’s. Can we talk?”
“Depends on what you gotta say.”
I look at Stella. She’s in her same seat, and no joke, a bag of popcorn has somehow appeared in her hands. She tosses a handful into her mouth and waves. “Don’t mind me. We don’t get pretty girls like you in here and I’m thinking this is going to be fun.”
“Stella.” I have to fight a flinch. She glares at him like he’s a mosquito. She has to have some massive lady balls. That glare turned in my direction would make me want to burst into ash. “Enough.”
“You don’t want me knowin’ your business, don’t go airin’ it in public.”
“Damn it. You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”
“Love you too, B.”
My eyes bounce back and forth at their banter. But those last four words, they stall my chest. Shit, I haven’t even considered. “Are you two . . . dating?”
Stella throws her head back and laughs. It’s maniacal and loud and I can only stand there staring at her. She jerks back and reaches for the desk as she throws herself forward, slapping her hand on the counter. “Holy shit, girl. You’re hilarious and I think I love you too.”
“Jesus, fuck,” Braxton growls and then he’s front of me. Holy cow, he moves fast. “Let’s go,” he growls again. His large, muscled hand wraps around my bicep and he tugs me forward. I can do nothing but follow him, tripping over my boots, the sound of Stella’s crazy laughter echoing loudly in the hallway.
He stops when he pulls me into what looks like a madman’s office. Papers are scattered all over the place and a chair resembling one I see at the dentist’s office sits in the corner. The door slams shut and I spin around, which is a mistake.
He’s right in front of me. He’s so tall I have to tilt my head up and he’s too close. His masculine scent invades my senses and another wave of nausea hits me.
This has to stop. My hand flies to my stomach and I step back. God, I’m going to puke all over his feet and won’t that be amazing.
He doesn’t know me and I’m going to throw up all over him before I can tell him I’m pregnant. Awesome second impression.
Perhaps it’ll be more memorable than my first one.
“You wanted to talk?”
I look away, trying to settle my rattled nerves. “Yeah, um, I’m Cara. We met at Dan and Jenna’s wedding a few months ago.”
Don’t puke. Just tell him. I hug my stomach more firmly. “Okay. Well, we met and um . . . well, I’m pregnant.” He doesn’t move, not a single twitch of any emotion flashes in his eyes or his face, not a single damn muscle twitch.
This isn’t going how I expected at all. “And, well, it’s yours.”