My Ex's Baby (Crescent Cove 8)

Rhiannon fussed in my arms, so I juggled her and cooed softly to get her to settle again. When it actually worked, I smiled. Hey, maybe I could do this after all.

Good thing, since that test in your purse in a ticking baby time bomb.

I didn’t even need that test. Nope. I’d just grabbed it on a lark. My period was late, big deal. It had been late before, multiple times. In fact, it wasn’t even that odd for me to have inconsistent periods. But I hadn’t had sex in a very long time.

Until Macy’s wedding night.

Until tequila had made not only my clothes come off but had caused my sense of self-preservation to take a hike.

Until August and I had made—sex. We’d made very good sex.

And that was that.

Even so, I was always pragmatic. I’d bought a test and visited my best friend to try to get her to spill the beans on her preggo symptoms before she knew she was knocked up. I had no intention of telling her about my situation. Or if I did, I certainly wasn’t going to name who the daddy was.

Could be. Emphasis on probably not.

Instead, Ivy had whipped up mashed bananas for the baby, and I’d cuddled with her adorable child while hoping fervently I was ruining my favorite panties.

How was this my life?

I shifted restlessly. Now I really did have to pee. “Ivy, speaking of fucking—”

Ivy whipped off her apron. “God, you don’t know how pent-up I’ve been. I mean, we just got off probation, and for the first few months after having this one,” she nodded at Rhiannon, who appeared unrepentant, “I couldn’t even think about his dick. But now? I just need it. You know?”

I bit my lip and resisted the urge to cover the baby’s ears. “Yeah.”

Regular sex wasn’t a part of my world, but I could imagine. Doing the deed basically stirred a dangerous bloodlust. It wasn’t sex with August per se I was craving. It was just—

Okay, it was completely August’s fault. I couldn’t even look at his broad, competent hands without imagining them wrapped around my breasts.

I swallowed hard. “Maybe you should try a hobby? That’s what I’m doing. I’m taking classes on how to knit.”

And knotting yarn more than I was actually completing a pattern, but still. At least I was making an effort not to become a sex toy junkie.

Or an August Beck junkie, which was even worse.

“Pfft, forget knitting, I want sex.”

I couldn’t argue with such sound logic.

“He’s been so busy with work we haven’t even been doing the Zoom naked thing.” Ivy sighed again and moved forward to take Rhiannon, who continued to stare at me even once she was ensconced in her mother’s arms.

I’d never realized I was so interesting.

“Zoom naked thing?” I repeated, clutching my stomach.

There, that was a cramp. Totally. I was almost certain.

“Yeah, you know. Get on the webcam, take off your clothes, and—”

“Seriously, Ive? This is what I have to hear when I stop by to see my baby sister?”

Goddess, no. This could not be happening.

I shut my eyes and hoped I could make myself vanish just from the power of my mind. There was no way I could face August while I was potentially carrying his child.

Planning to just hide yourself away for the better part of a year, are you?