My Ex's Baby (Crescent Cove 8)

I’d been wrong. Ivy and her family were the only people I could count on besides myself.

August is part of her family. You can count on him too.

For normal stuff, sure. When a kid had kicked the bottom of my shop door and messed up the wood, August had brought over a new kickplate without me even asking—and he’d matched it perfectly to my wood. He never hesitated to help if I needed something special for the store that I couldn’t find. He’d even offered to build me a tall, narrow dresser to fit in a space I wanted to outfit with accessories to go with some of my vintage finds.

But this was different. How did you tell a guy a hookup at a wedding might end up in forever?

I didn’t know how long I sat there, swallowing over the lump in my throat. After a few minutes, August knocked on the door. “Kin?”

I forced myself to rise and wash my hands. “Sorry, did you need to use it? Just a sec.” I dried off my hands and opened the door.

August was leaning against the jamb, his hands tucked in his pockets. I stopped short, unprepared for him to be that close—and lifted a hand to his chest when he leaned in.

“Wait.” There was no keeping the panic from my voice.

“It feels like I’ve been doing is waiting.” His gaze lingered on my mouth as I flexed my fingers over the shirt warm from his body. “You make me crazy, you know that?”

“I do?”

“Oh, yeah. You can’t be that oblivious.”

When I dropped my hand and tucked my hair behind my ear, he let out a rough chuckle. “Or maybe you can be.” He lifted my chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“With or without clothes?”

The corner of his mouth twisted upward. “Both. But I’m not going to lie I can’t forget the wedding. And not because you caught the cat.”

The plush cat that currently lived in my closet, hidden under a pile of scrap material. I didn’t need any reminders—not of the amazing time I’d spent with August or of the ridiculous possibility I could ever get married, never mind any time soon.

“I can’t forget it either, but it’s not that simple.”

“Sure it is.” He drew a finger down the side of my face before moving back the same curl I’d just tucked behind my ear. It wouldn’t stay put. Just like my jumping belly as August’s bottle green eyes searched mine. “We don’t have any rules. We’ll just do what feels good.” He dipped his head, and this time, I fisted a hand in his shirt.

To hold him off or hold on, I wasn’t sure.

“I might be pregnant.”

Eight

My head kept moving toward hers, the white noise in my head fuzzing out her words.

We could talk later. Right now, I was focused on her pursed glossy pink lips and the way she was clutching my shirt—

Wait, she wasn’t tugging me closer. She was holding me off while still gripping me tight.

I forced myself to suck in oxygen as my all too active dick surged against my zipper without any concern for manners. I’d just had to wear my tightest pair of jeans today. They might as well have been a tourniquet, for fuck’s sake.

“Okay, try again.” I shut my eyes to get myself under control. “I’m listening. And I’m ignoring my cock.”

Her quick burst of laughter edged on maniacal. “If I’d ignored your cock, we wouldn’t be here. I’m not actually sure we are here yet, but if we are, your cock is to blame. How old was that condom anyway?”

“What a

re you talking about?”

She shook her head then pulled a box out of the purse she wore cross-body and slapped it against my chest.

I stared down at it. “Clear Blue—what the hell?”