The Mrs. Degree (Accidentally in Love 2)

She laughs. “Spoken like someone who can jet-set around without overthinking it.”

Ha. “I bust my ass and have ruined my body, and they pay me a shit ton of money for it. I had nothing to spend it on; no wife, no family, no house. And now I do—Skipper. And you. So if you’re worried I’m wasting money, don’t. It is a non-issue.”

Her mouth is in a straight line. “Alright, I won’t worry about it then.”

Briefly, I wonder about the stir it’s going to cause when I show up at school. How many parents will hound me for autographs or whisper during the concert? Then again, her brother is a retired professional baller, and I assume he’s been present for most of the performances, knowing what I know about him.

Davis Halbrook is a stand-up dude.

“Hey, Skipper, come here for a second,” Penelope calls over her shoulder to our daughter, who I can see running over, carrying a stuffed pony while dressed like one. Her little, sparkly purple and rainbow mane flaps as she runs.

“What?” She can’t stand still, curious to look at the man in the phone and know what the conversation is about.

“Jack is coming to your concert on Thursday. What do you think of that?”

“I knew he was!” she shouts with a laugh.

“How did you know? I just told him about it.”

“’Cause I knew he would come. Jack is my friend. We have a secret handshake.” She winks at me through the phone. “Can you come over so we can practice?”

“I can’t, buddy. I’m in Colorado. It’s too far.”

Her face falls. “But you’ll be here on Thursday, and we can practice then.”

“Yup.”

“Cool!” She skips off again, Penelope calling after her. “Don’t get too comfortable. We have to get you in the bathtub soon—then it’s bedtime.”

Bedtime.

Sounds good to me, too.

“Check in with me later, okay? Send me the school’s address and the time the concert starts.”

“I will,” Penn says, fiddling with the charms on her wrist. “And thank you for the bracelet. It’s beautiful.”

Her praise embarrasses me, but I have no idea why. “You’re welcome.”

“Talk to you soon.”

She makes a goofy kissy face at me before ending the call, and my heart tugs again, knowing I’m missing out on bath time, story time, and bedtime.

Chapter 18

Penelope

I wring my hands nervously, watching cars drive into the parking lot, wondering which one is Jack. Since he has a rental, it’s hard to tell which one is him as car after car passes by despite it being the middle of the day.

Skipper is already inside with her class, while Davis and Juliet are saving Jack and me seats inside. I hadn’t wanted him to walk in and not know where to go, so here I am, waiting by the curb for his car to arrive.

A black sedan pulls up, and the window rolls down. “Going my way, sweetheart?”

It’s Jack, and he’s grinning ear to ear, sunglasses perched on his nose, looking as handsome and sexy as ever, especially behind the wheel of a slick, black sedan.

“I’ll wait here while you park.”

“Or you can hop in, and we can make out before we go inside.”

I hesitate, wanting to. Live a little, Penelope, stop overthinking it. Get in the car and let him flirt with you a few seconds before we’re inside surrounded by people.

I pop open the passenger door and climb inside, and when I do, Jack immediately leans over to my side and kisses me on the lips, lingering a bit too long, considering cars are waiting behind him to pull into the parking lot.

I blush down to my toes, fixing my hair in the overhead mirror as he slowly creeps around the lot, looking for a space to park. He finds one at the back of the lot, near the playground and overlooking the little concession stand they have by the adjacent soccer field.

He puts the car into park and looks over, hand already on the back of my seat. “Come here.”

I lean in so he has easy access to my lips, opening my mouth, missing him bad.

It’s been a few days, but it felt like an eternity, and I wonder how I made it through those early days when I broke up with him and was still in love with him and pregnant with his child.

How had I done it? Where had I found the willpower because these last few days? Torture.

I hate it. Hate leaving him now and hate when he goes. There is so much to catch up on and make up for.

“You taste so good.”

“I had a cookie.” I say it dumbly, because I had eaten a cookie. One from the little bake sale they have set up inside, a fundraiser for the school’s extracurricular program.

“Yummy.” He leans in again, but this time, I laugh and reach for the door handle. “We don’t have time to sit in this car making out like teenagers. Davis will take one good look at me and know we were up to no good!”