Chapter Reveal & Pre-Order Blitz- Mr. Fantasy by Cambria Hebert

Title: Mr. Fantasy

Author: Cambria Hebert

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: April 2, 2019

Blurb:

Better than your reality…

A Caribbean island.

A rich CEO.

A woman thrown overboard.

A delicious one-night stand.

Want to know what happens next?

Find all the answers and more between the pages

of this sizzling standalone romance—Mr. Fantasy.

Mr. Fantasy is a standalone contemporary romance novel and contains an HEA.

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Pre-order Links:

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO / APPLE BOOKS

CHAPTER 1 + 2 of MR. FANTASY

1

Nora

“I can’t believe the week is almost over.” Val groaned, then consoled herself with a large gulp of the fruity cocktail sitting in front of her.

I sighed sadly, silently agreeing with her. Spring break needed to be a lot longer than a week. Pretty soon, it would be back to work, back to classes… back to reality.

Reality sucked.

Especially when I gazed around this tropical resort and realized some people lived like this all the time.

“One week in paradise just isn’t enough,” I said out loud, playing with the pink umbrella perched in the coconut drink I held. Rotating the barstool, I spun to face the turquoise water of the ocean and pure-white sand beneath it.

Grass umbrellas dotted the beach, and under them, people lounged and played. Beyond the beach, people also played in the water, running around in skimpy bikinis and golden tans.

The breeze off the ocean blew through the tangled strands of my blond hair, and sand clung between my toes. Focusing past the shoreline, I gazed across the water, past the floating cabanas, and out to a small island filled with palm trees.

“I’d like to see the guy who owns that island just once while we’re here.” My voice was wistful as I plucked the cherry out of my drink and popped it into my mouth.

Sweet juice from the fruit burst over my tongue as I stared.

Val made a sound and slapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t even tell me that’s the reason you haven’t had a fling yet!” she practically yelled.

Swiftly, I swung in her direction. “Shh! God, Valerie, don’t announce our sex life to the entire resort.”

“At least I have a sex life,” she muttered, fitting her straw into her mouth. “That’s what spring break is for. Letting loose, having fun… no regrets.”

“Hey, I’ve done that, too.”

She made a rude sound. “You’ve turned down three guys since we got here.”

I shrugged and looked back at the ocean. “I’m picky.”

“You have to let him go, Nor,” Valerie said gently. Leaning in, she rested her cheek on my shoulder. “I know you loved him, but Alan wasn’t good enough. And he hurt you.”

Yeah. Yeah, he did.

I sucked on the straw until it made that annoying slurping sound because my alcohol had officially run out.

“Having a fling is the best way to get him out of your system. Let someone rock your world for a night, and forget about him completely.”

I smirked. “You think a one-night stand will erase a guy I dated for nearly a year?”

Val sat up and wagged her eyebrows at me. “The right guy will.”

I laughed, and she snagged the empty coconut out of my hand and held it over her head. “Bartender, another!”

“Now, about that.” My best friend pointed out toward the distant island. “Please tell me you haven’t been holding out to see if Mr. Island shows up to rock your world.”

I scoffed at her assumption.

“I knew it!” she yelled.

People around us turned to look at her.

I smiled at them, “Sorry. She’s a bit extra.”

“You’re still hung up on your cheating, scumbag ex, and now you’re hung up on some faceless guy who might not even exist?” Val dropped her forehead into her hand. “I’ve failed as a best friend.”

I slipped an arm around her shoulders. “You have not.”

A tap on my shoulder made me turn, my eyes colliding with a set of piercing green ones. “Oh,” I said, a little breathless.

“Your drink is ready,” the bartender said, leaning over the bar, holding out my refill.

“Oh!” I glanced down at the drink. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, gorgeous,” he quipped and winked.

I nearly spilled the drink in my lap right there. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he had the bronze tan of a local with an accent to match.

“You need anything else, just wave.”

I nodded, unable to reply.

“See!” Val said, putting her arm around me, bringing me back around. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re gorgeous. You could have any guy here you wanted. Even the bartender. Yet you’re busy mooning over some guy who’s probably old enough to be your grandpa.”

“I am not mooning!” I insisted. Then I grimaced. “And ew… grandpa.”

“You really expect some young, hot single to own that island over there?”

I shook my head. “Not just the island… this entire resort.”

Valerie moaned. “That’s just a sexy rumor the staff here likes to tell women like us. It makes us even more excited about this place.”

“It could be true,” I murmured, staring out to sea. “He really could be some young, rich computer genius who sold off an app and bought this place.”

“Uh-huh. And he has a hot body and the stamina to make you forget all about Awful Alan.”

“Hey,” I accused, salty. “I didn’t judge you when your fantasy was to sleep with a yoga instructor to see if they really were more flexible than other guys.”

Valerie giggled. “They are. They totally are.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Hey, I’m young, single, and being safe. What’s wrong with a little fun?”

I drank some of my cocktail.

“Besides, at least my fantasy was attainable. Yours is practically from the pages of some cheesy romance novel.”

“Whatever.” I sighed. This conversation was bringing down my buzz. “Finish your drink so we can go lay on the beach.”

“Your time is running out.” She reminded me. “We’re going home tomorrow night. If you don’t have a fling soon, you’re never going to get over Alan.”

I’d had enough of this conversation, and if she said my ex-boyfriend’s name one more time, I was going to scream. I jumped down off the barstool and tripped on my flip-flop, stumbling.

“Whoa,” I stammered as I fumbled forward. Seconds later, I collided into the back of a chair, falling over the shoulder of whoever was sitting there and dumping my drink down their chest.

The shoulder under my waist stiffened, and I scrambled to leap back.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!” I exclaimed. Dumbly, I looked down at the drink in my hand. It was empty.

Horrified, I skittered around the chair as the person sitting in it stood, pushing it out from beneath him.

Our bodies collided and I tumbled back, but he caught my arm to keep me from falling. Another apology formed on my lips, but the second I looked up, it dissipated.

He was tall. So tall I had to crane my neck back to look up at him. His shoulders were wide, and his jaw was chiseled. His skin had the same deep bronzed look as all the locals, and his hair was the color of midnight.

I didn’t know if his mouth was just sexy as hell or if the way he pursed his lips as he regarded me made them look pouty, but the effect was still the same.

Everything inside me tightened and then went liquid, as though he’d melted me with just one glance.

My mouth moved, but no sounds came out. I was exceptionally aware of his large hand wrapped around my upper arm. Even though we were sitting in the shade, his hand felt warm like he’d been in the sun. Goose bumps erupted along my bare arms and legs, and my scalp prickled with awareness.

Glancing down to where he held me, I couldn’t help but notice how his hand was so big it wrapped around my arm completely. Involuntarily, I shivered as I thought about what else his hands would completely cover.

Embarrassed, I jerked away from his touch. His hand dropped beside him, and then I realized the entire front of his shirt was completely soaked with my drink.

Gasping, I tossed aside the empty coconut and let my hands hover near him. “This is all my fault,” I exclaimed. “Can I get some napkins over here?” I yelled. “Valerie!”

My best friend, who was standing there just as speechless as I was, burst into action and turned toward the bar.

“I’m so clumsy,” I told the guy. “I’m so sorry. I’ll buy you a new shirt,” I offered. “And whatever you’re drinking today.”

“No need,” he said. His voice was quiet but so commanding it didn’t need to be loud. “It’s just a shirt.”

Glancing down at the ruined garment, I groaned again. It was blue silk. Probably cost more than I made in an entire week. And because of the material and the fact that it was soaked, it was plastered to his chest as if he’d been caught in the rain.

He was thin… but imposing. Everything about him was.

Val shoved a towel in front of my face, and I snatched it quickly. Rushing forward, I didn’t even think twice about reaching out to try and dry the shirt.

The thin material was saturated, and it seemed no matter how much I patted and wiped, nothing helped.

Above me, a throat cleared. “Are you done?”

I froze, towel still pressed against his shirt, and looked up. His chin tilted down, and our eyes met, pure desire sliding through me.

I jolted back, flushing. “Sorry, I was trying to…” What was I trying to do?

He smiled, reached up, and unbuttoned the shirt to peel it off his body and drop it in the sand. “I’m pretty sure it’s not savable.”

My mouth ran dry. I couldn’t look up from his tan, smooth chest.

A second later, he snapped in front of my face, making me lift my eyes. “You might want to lay off the alcohol the rest of the day. I think you’ve had enough.”

Dumbly, I nodded and held out the towel for him to take.

He glanced between me and the offered towel, then smiled. “I’m good,” he replied, then turned around and walked away.

I stared after him long after he was gone, still holding out the towel like a moron.

Val jumped in front of me, eyes wide. “Oh my God!” she whispered. “That guy was hot!”

The towel fell out of my hands, landing beside his forgotten shirt.

“Hey!” Val yelled toward the bar. “Who was that guy?”

“Never seen him before,” one of the bartenders called back.

“Sucks,” she muttered, then grabbed my hand. “C’mon, let’s go get some vitamin sea.”

“Wait!” I exclaimed, pulling back before she could drag me away. Bending down, I picked up the wet, sandy shirt he’d just discarded from his body.

Val tsked and dragged me toward the beach. “First the island guy, and now this.” She sighed. “You’re completely hopeless, Nora. Hopeless.”

As I stared down at the shirt clutched in my hand, I couldn’t help thinking she might be right.

2

Carter

I sat there listening to quite an amusing conversation going on behind me.

One bad girl and one good… The bad trying to corrupt the good. I guess I could understand the appeal. The good ones were always the best at being bad.

I never got involved in guest affairs, even though all these scantily clad women were ripe for the picking. It was too easy. Too boring.

I liked a challenge.

Like being able to erase a man from the mind of a woman who couldn’t let go.

I wondered if the good girl behind me was as open to that kind of fling as she pretended to be or if she clung to the rumors about a man on an island because she knew he probably didn’t even exist.

Sometimes holding on was easier than letting go because at least the pain of holding on was familiar.

The second her drink spilled over my shoulder and across my chest, I wondered if it was my karma for listening to their conversation or if there was something else here at work.

The sparks between us were practically visible, and the way she shivered beneath my touch excited me. Still, I pulled away, because sometimes being a mystery was better than being real.

I felt her eyes against my back the entire time I walked away. I pondered if I would ever see her again, if I would be able to rise to her challenge.

The way my life had turned out so far was all because of fate. So I decided to leave this up to fate, too.

Author Bio:

Cambria Hebert is an award-winning, bestselling novelist of more than forty books. She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair.

Besides writing, Cambria loves a caramel latte, staying up late, sleeping in, and watching movies. She considers math human torture and has an irrational fear of birds (including chickens). You can often find her painting her toenails (because she bites her fingernails) or walking her Chihuahuas (the real rulers of the house).

Cambria has written within the young adult and new adult genres, penning many paranormal and contemporary titles. She has also written romantic suspense, science fiction, and male/male romance. Her favorite genre to read and write is contemporary romance. A few of her most recognized titles are: The Hashtag Series, GearShark Series, Text, Amnesia, and Butterfly.

Recent awards include: Author of the Year, Best Contemporary Series (The Hashtag Series), Best Contemporary Book of the Year, Best Book Trailer of the Year, Best Contemporary Lead, Best Contemporary Book Cover of the Year. In addition, her most recognized title, #Nerd, was listed at Buzzfeed.com as a top fifty summer romance read.

Cambria Hebert owns and operates Cambria Hebert Books, LLC.

You can find out more about Cambria and her titles by visiting her website: http://www.cambriahebert.com.

Please sign up for her newsletter to stay in the know about all her cover reveals, releases, and more: http://eepurl.com/bUL5_5.

Text ‘Cambria’ to 7606703130 to sign up for new release alerts

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Chapter Reveal- In The Crease (The Assassins Series) by Toni Aleo

Coming August 22nd

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Jensen Monroe is a unicorn. As handsome as any model, as polite as can be, a goalie of unmatched skill, and the best friend anyone could ask for. But he longs for a particular special someone to make his life complete. He’s been in love with Wren since he was a teenager, but as his best friend’s sister, she’s always been off-limits.

Wren Lemiere has prided herself on being a love ’em and leave ’em girl her whole life. She’s all about equal opportunity in the battle of the sexes. Why should guys like her brother and his best friends get to be the only ones allowed to play the dating game? One wrong move, however, and she finds herself in violation of her own rules.

In need of a fake husband and baby daddy for her unexpected bundle of joy, Wren finally accepts Jensen is the logical one to ask for help. Except he has a counteroffer…one with so many strings attached, they may just find themselves wrapped up in ties that bind. Forever.

Prologue

Five months earlier…

Wren Lemiere felt awful.

The kind of awful where you felt like you were dying.

Not that she had ever been the victim of an almost-death, but she was pretty sure it felt like what she was feeling.

Why she came back home to Colorado when she was this godforsakenly sick was beyond her, but then she hadn’t felt like death when she got on the plane. It was once she got off and for the following three days that the death hit her. She didn’t know what was going on, but she just wanted some drugs to make the excruciating nausea go away. That was all. Just some drugs.

Holding her face in her hands, she inhaled a deep breath before letting it out in a whoosh, begging the turning of her gut to stop. She wasn’t sure what she ate or what bacteria she picked up, but when she found out whatever did this to her, they would suffer. Slowly and painfully. It was probably Vaughn, her brother’s best friend. He was a walking cesspool. Ugh. She had never been so sick in her life, she swore it, but then again, that time she had the flu, she was sure she’d thought the same.

Either way, she was dying.

Plain and simple.

“Ugh,” she moaned as she swallowed back the bile that was threatening to come up her throat. When the door opened and the doctor stepped in, she cried out in relief. “Please, give me something. Anything. Knock me out if you have to.”

Ryan Churner laughed. They had gone to school together, dated briefly, but they’d been just kids. Now, he was married and happy—with lots of kids of his own. Wren, though, was living the single, carefree life. Much to her mother’s dismay. Her mother wanted grandbabies, and since her brother, Wells, was gay, it was easy to say it was Wren’s job to give her mother babies. Which was not going to happen. Wren would suck as a mom. Plus, she couldn’t find a decent guy to love her large ass. So that left her brother, and Wells could adopt. Yeah, he should do that. Take some of the pressure off her. She needed to call him about that.

“I’m afraid there are no drugs for what you have.”

Wren threw up her hands. “It’s a virus?”

He laughed. She didn’t like the sound of that laugh. Or the way he said, “Um, no.”

Her face wrinkled in confusion. “Then, what?”

He grimaced a bit before looking up at her. His dark blue eyes held her gaze as a grin pulled at his lips. “When was your last period?”

She shrugged. “Like six months ago. I have polycystic ovary syndrome, though.” She added while pointing at him, “Not sure that’s in my chart.”

He nodded. “It is, but I hadn’t realized it had been that long.”

“Yeah.” She had maybe two periods a year, possibly three. It was a problem, but her problem. One she was blessed with when she was younger. Her PCOS kept her a little on the thicker side and also wreaked havoc on her hormones, but she managed. She wasn’t going to let it bring her down or dwell on it. She already did that enough.

“Okay, well, are you in a relationship right now?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Are you sexually active?”

“Always,” she said with an exaggerated wink. Then she paused. “Wait, I’m not hitting on you.”

“I know.” He laughed and she grinned, though, it was brief before she felt a wave of queasiness. “But your pregnancy test came up positive.”

Wren could only blink as her body went cold. She started laughing because surely, she’d heard him wrong. “You weren’t this funny when we were younger.”

“I’m not joking.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your pregnancy test came up positive, but sometimes with PCOS, you can get a positive result. So I want to do an ultrasound.”

“For what?”

“To see if you’re pregnant.”

“Pregnant? Me?”

“Yes.”

“But…really?”

“Yes,” he said with a smile before he stood, walking to the door. “Well, usually when you have sex, a baby can be made as a byproduct of all that passion.”

“But…” She trailed off, her heart jumping into her throat. Surely that wasn’t the case. She couldn’t be pregnant. They’d used protection. “I have sex with condoms, and I’m on birth control.”

“Are you consistent with your birth control?

She shrugged. “Sure.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s not believable, Wren.”

Her face wrinkled more as he called out to the nurse. Sitting there, she tried to remember when this could have happened. She was home last month and had seen him…a lot and all of him, but they’d used condoms. Hadn’t they? Shit.

Soon a cart was brought in, and she was asked to take off her pants. It was all a blur, lying there with a drape over her bottom half and Ryan shoving some damn probe up inside her. Staring at the ceiling, she didn’t know what to think. She hadn’t even thought this was a possibility. With her PCOS, it was supposed to be hard for her to get pregnant. Not to mention, she didn’t want to be a mom. She would suck as a mom. And he would suck as a dad. They were selfish.

“Yup, there it is.”

Turning her head, she looked at the screen to see a little peanut. Seriously, a peanut, or at least, that’s what she assumed it was. But in the middle of the peanut was a little flicker. It was so small, almost undetectable, but she was sure she could see it. Was that the heartbeat?

“That’s it? I’m pregnant?”

“You’re pregnant.”

Blinking hard, she gasped. “Oh, fuck.”

~*~

“I’m pregnant.”

The words felt funky.

“I am pregnant,” she said to her reflection in the rental car’s visor mirror. “We’re having a baby.” She tried saying it while waving her hands. But that felt weird too.

Holy shit, she was pregnant.

She was almost thirty. She had a good job, and she was in a good place. It was not even the least bit expected, nor was it good timing since she wasn’t thirty yet, nor was she married. But it was fine. They would get a quickie marriage, and bam, they’d be good. No one would have to know she was pregnant before they decided to elope. It would be fine. Everything would be fine; her inheritance wasn’t in jeopardy.

But, shit, she didn’t want to move back to Colorado. She would have to because he wouldn’t be able to leave his job. He owned the damn firm, while she was contracted by the Nashville Assassins, the professional hockey team back in Nashville, Tennessee. Her gig was awesome, so damn awesome, and she loved it, but it wouldn’t work. She’d have to be the one to move. Damn it. She’d finish out the season for sure, but that meant she couldn’t sign the five-year extension that was sitting on her desk back home. With the lovely bonus that was going to pay off her car early. Damn it.

She wasn’t sure how he was going to take it, but they were good. They had known each other their whole lives. Been fucking for years, so it was time. She loved him. Ish. Kinda. Well, obviously a little since she continued to sleep with him, but he was a cool dude. And even if marriage was the last thing she wanted, she knew she had to do it.

She needed the money from her inheritance that her dad was holding, which had been passed down from her grandfather. When she turned thirty in October, it would be hers. The only catch was she couldn’t have a baby out of wedlock before she was thirty. It was stupid, and it was barbaric in her opinion. But it was what her grandfather had written up, and her father was standing behind it. It was annoying, to say the least, but if she wanted to pay off all her debt and live pretty damn comfortably for the rest of her life, along with providing a comfortable life for Wells, she had to do what she had to do.

She just hoped he didn’t let her down.

Getting out of the car, she swallowed hard as she walked toward the doors that read Washington, Fieldsman, and Barnes. When she opened the door, she was greeted by the receptionist, and Wren shot her a quick, curt smile. She was nervous. Why was she nervous? Crap, was she going to puke?

Yup.

Dipping into the bathroom before his office, she threw up the rest of her guts and sat there shaking her head. “You’re lucky I love you, kid.”

Wow, that was quick.

Wren had never seen herself as a mother. She’d thought she was going to grow old with lots of money and dogs. She hadn’t seen love or babies in her future. She’d seen lots of fucking, but that was about it. She didn’t have the best luck in love and really hadn’t imagined this coming, but now, she saw herself holding a baby.

Problem was, she still didn’t see him in her picture.

But that would change…right?

Surely.

Crap.

Washing her mouth out and then popping some gum, she walked out of the bathroom and right into another person. “Ah!”

“Crap! I’m sorry, Wren.”

Wren clammed up. Shit. “Hey, Shanna. What you doing here?”

“I had to see Bradley. What are you doing?” her best friend for her whole life asked.

Dammit, Wren hated lying to her.

“I have a meeting with him. He has to go over my contract for the Assassins.”

Shanna lit up. “Cool! Are you still coming for dinner tonight?”

Wren was shaking. Why was she shaking? Shit. “Shan, I texted you. I had to move my flight up, remember?”

“Oh, yes. My bad. Next time.”

“Of course,” she said before Shanna embraced her. Squeezing her eyes shut, Wren knew she would have to tell her. But Bradley had wanted to keep them under wraps. Plus, Wren knew how overprotective Shanna was of her baby brother. Wren had known better, but the dude was hung like a horse and hot to boot. She just hoped she wouldn’t lose a friendship over this. But Shanna would be excited. They’d be sisters like they’d always wanted, and there’d be a new baby. Shanna would love that.

Right?

Right.

Don’t freak out. This is fine.

Saying goodbye, Wren waved as she walked toward his office before knocking on the door. “Come in.” As she opened the door to the huge, posh office, he stood behind his desk, looking every bit as gorgeous as the day was long. His suit was pressed and clung to him. His blond-brown hair was brushed to the side, while a bit of stubble dusted his jaw. She only saw it because the sun was kissing it, shining on it ever so sweetly. He was a good-looking man, beautiful even, but still, she couldn’t see herself married to him. Shit.

Wren smiled though, and when Bradley looked up, heat filled his gaze. “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” she said, shutting the door as he came around the desk to her. Gathering her in his arms, he kissed her hard on the lips, dipping her back slightly as she clung to him. This had to work. He was a great guy.

Pulling back, he kissed her nose. “You look hot.”

She laughed, waving him off. “I look and feel like death.”

“Still?” he asked, concern filling his handsome face. He was a year younger than her, and growing up, they’d called him the baby. Though, he didn’t look like a baby. When he had first kissed her, eons ago, she hadn’t expected it. And even though they had both been with other people over the years, they somehow always gravitated back to each other.

Always.

But that was about to change.

“Yeah. I went to the doctor today.”

Moving his thumb along the inside of her palm, he smiled. “Is it contagious?”

She shook her head, her face filling with heat. “No.”

“Oh, good,” he said, gathering her in his arms and pressing his lips to hers. “So we can take this discussion to the couch.”

She stopped him as he tried to pull her to where she knew they would likely have all kinds of hot sex, but she needed to get this out. “Not yet.”

His brows pulled together. “What’s wrong? Don’t feel up to it?”

She swallowed hard. “It’s not that. It’s…um…” Inhaling deeply, she met his gaze. The gaze she had known her whole life. Though right now, she felt like she was going to puke, her nerves were so bad. “I’m pregnant.”

She watched as his eyes widened, his jaw dropping before he dropped her hands. “Pregnant?”

“Yeah.”

He only blinked. “Is it mine?”

She nodded. “You’re the only guy I’ve been with for the last six months.”

He blinked once more, his eyes burning into hers. “Are you sure?”

She gave him a deadpan look. “I think I’d remember if I happen to fall, pussy first, on a cock other than yours.”

He didn’t laugh like she wanted, nor did he look her in the eye. Instead, he chewed his lip, looking anywhere but at her. “So, no other chance it isn’t mine?”

Her brows drew in. “It’s yours, Bradley.”

Turning his back to her, he walked away, going to the windows as he looked out of them, his hands folded across his chest. “I didn’t expect this. We used condoms.”

“I know.”

“And you’re on birth control, I thought.”

“I am, though I don’t take it as often as I should.”

He looked over at her. “So you trapped me?”

She glared. “You’d better be joking.”

He didn’t answer; he just looked away as her heart started to speed up.

This didn’t feel right.

As he started to pace, she watched him, her blood beginning to boil. She didn’t like his comment, nor did she like the way he wouldn’t look at her. Clearing her throat, she watched him as she said, “Okay, well, I know this is a lot at once, and it’s a lot for me too. But we have something that could pose an issue—my inheritance.”

His face wrinkled up as he snapped, “How does that have anything to do with me?”

She glared at the side of his face. “It has to do with you because your baby is inside of me, and I’m not thirty yet. So if I have this baby before I turn thirty and I’m not married, I’m fucked.”

“Then don’t have the baby.”

Her jaw dropped. Actually dropped, almost catching flies. “Excuse me?”

Still looking out the window, he shrugged. “Go get an abortion.”

“What?”

“Listen, I don’t want this. I don’t want a kid, and fuck, this is going to mess everything up.”

Her heart was in her throat. “Mess up what?

Turning to her, he yelled, “I’m marrying fucking Fieldsman’s daughter.”

It was as if he’d hit her. Reaching out, she braced her hand on the window. He had been seeing the girl, but he swore it wasn’t serious. They were just cool; it was business as he said. But marriage? “What? You said you didn’t want to get married.”

“I know, but I have no choice.”

“You do. You can marry me and help out the mother of your child.”

“No, I can’t. I was going to tell you tonight, that we had to break this off. For good.”

Drawing in a breath through her nose, she shook her head. “Wow.”

“Yeah. So listen,” he said, walking around her and to his desk, but she didn’t move as the tears gathered in her eyes. “Go get an abortion. It’s for the best. Here, this should cover it.”

When she opened her eyes, he was filling out a check before holding it out to her. Shaking her head hard, she muttered, “I don’t want your money.”

“Take it, Wren. Please. I can’t have this fuck up what I’ve got going for me. I’ll have more stock in this firm once I marry her.”

Her lip started to tremble. “But I’m having your baby.”

“I don’t want it,” he said simply. “I don’t want any of it. She will get pissed. She’s already so jealous and thinks I’m fucking around.”

“You are!”

“I know, but not anymore. So, please, get rid of it.”

“I can’t.”

“Wren, come on!”

“You can’t do this. We’ve known each other our whole life.”

“I understand that. So please do it.”

“No.”

“Don’t be stupid, because I’ll deny it. You fuck around. Everyone knows it, and I’ll deny the kid is mine. You’ll have to take me to court to prove it. But by the time that happens, you’ll already have it before your thirtieth birthday, so you’ll be fucked anyway. Just do the right thing. Get rid of it, Wren.”

She wouldn’t let her tears fall. Not for this fucking douche. “I thought I knew you, you selfish asshole.”

The words didn’t even faze him. He glared at her. “I thought I knew you. How could you let this happen? We were never serious. We were just fucking.”

Looking down at the ground, she bit into her lip to keep the tears from falling. Yeah, he was right, but she thought she’d meant more to him than just a fuck. “Just fucking, huh?”

“Yeah, it isn’t like we love each other. I mean, come on. You’re not even my type.”

“Your type?”

“Wren, come on,” he said simply, holding his hands out. “You’re not trophy wife material.”

She was going to deck him. “I can’t believe this.”

“Just take the check.”

He held it out once more, and her eyes landed on it through her tears. She should take it. It really was the only option, yet she knew she couldn’t.

Meeting his gaze, she swallowed hard as she shook her head slowly from side to side. “No.”

“Wren, don’t be an idiot.”

“No.”

“You’re being fucking stupid—”

Standing erect, she stepped over to him, her eyes burning into his and completely cutting off his words. She was sure her eyes were full of heat, full of rage because his words shook her. To the core. She wasn’t sure who this man was, but he sure as hell wouldn’t be the father of her child. Over her dead fucking body. “Fuck you, Bradley. I don’t need your money or even you. So. Fuck. You.”

And with that, she walked away.

With no clue what she was going to do now.

Except for the certainty that she wasn’t killing her baby.

My name is Toni Aleo and I’m a total dork.
I am a wife, mother of two and a bulldog, and also a hopeless romantic.
I am the biggest Shea Weber fan ever, and can be found during hockey season with my nose pressed against the Bridgestone Arena’s glass, watching my Nashville Predators play!
When my nose isn’t pressed against the glass, I enjoy going to my husband and son’s hockey games, my daughter’s dance competition, hanging with my best friends, taking pictures, scrapbooking, and reading the latest romance novel.
I have a slight Disney and Harry Potter obsession, I love things that sparkle, I love the color pink, I might have been a Disney Princess in a past life… probably Belle.
… and did I mention I love hockey?

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