Hard Luck (Trophy Boyfriends 4)

“Can you not remind me how immature my brother is? And can you believe he’s married? Like, someone actually married him. On purpose.”

I roll to face her, resting a hand on her belly. “Some good things came out of that wedding.”

Her expression softens and she blushes, putting her hand on top of mine. “That’s true.”

We lie here like this—perfectly content and quiet, my hand on her stomach, her hand on mine, rubbing the life that’s inside of her body. It still amazes me that we’re doing this.

I can hardly fucking believe it.

Wild.

Surreal.

“Come with me to Arizona, True.” I say it in a near whisper, meaning every word. Wanting it.

She’s quiet, but I know she’s been thinking about going with me because we’ve discussed it before. Or, I’ve asked anyway—not sure if she has taken my requests seriously, so I ask again.

“You don’t have any appointments coming up now that this one is out of the way, and if you do, we can fly back.”

Money is not an issue.

“What am I supposed to do while you’re working? Wait around?”

Is that what she thinks?

“No—you can work. You can use the office that’s in the house and then we can go on dates and get to know each other, and if you can’t stand me by the end of the thirty-seven days…” I swallow. “Then we’ll work out a custody schedule and I won’t insert myself in your life unless it has to do with the baby, and we can co-parent like champions.”

That sounds depressing as fuck.

True considers this as she’s done before, her head giving the barest of nods.

“Wait—what does that mean?”

“It means…okay. Yes. Yes, I’ll fly out and stay with you in Arizona so we can get to know each other better and see where this goes.”

She’s holding her breath.

“Seriously?” I push myself back and up to my knees, bouncing on the mattress. “Are you being for real?”

True laughs and holds her stomach. “Yes, I’m being for real.” Her hands are pushing at my thighs now. “Would you stop that?”

Playfully I lower myself again and brace myself over her. “You have no idea how happy this makes me.”

Contento. Happy.

Emocionado. Excited.

“And my brother will be there with Hollis so we can hang out together when y’all have free time.”

“Are you trying to kill my boner?”

“You have a boner?” Her hands slide down my abs until they’re moving across the silky mesh of my shorts, giving my erection a flirtatious squeeze. “Are you talking about this boner?” She pauses. “Did you know when I was in school, there was a kid named Andy and Boner was his nickname? I always wondered what that meant and never knew.”

“There was a kid nicknamed Boner at your school? That sounds fucking terrible. The guys must have been total assholes to stick him with a nickname like that.”

“Or they didn’t know what it meant either?”

“Oh, they knew what it meant. All guys know what it means the second they get one.”

The good news is, True is still rubbing mine, so I let the conversation continue.

“You think so?” she asks.

“Absolutely.”

My hips slowly begin to rotate.

We are going to bone. Screw.

Bang.

Score!

“Yeah, and he was a really nice guy, too,” True goes on as I dip to kiss her neck. “I wonder what he’s up to right now.”

“I don’t.” My nose is nuzzling the skin below her ear, a spot that drives her wild.

“But Boner? Come on now.”

I am trying to come now, if she’d stop talking about some other dude while I’m trying to seduce her.

“You smell so good,” I murmur into her ear, nibbling her lobe.

“Thank you, I showered today.”

“Sexy,” I tease, gliding my hand down her shirt, over her boob, rib cage, and waist. “Are these granny panties new?”

I snap the elastic band.

“They are,” she moans. “Came in a four pack. Cotton.”

“Nice.”

“I thought so.”

“Mmm, Hanes,” I say breathlessly. “Mami sexy.” Sexy mama. “La mina.” Mine.

“Uh-huh,” she moans, entirely unaware that I just called her mine. “I love it when you speak Spanish to me. It’s so sexy.”

“Not as sexy as you are in these high-waisted briefs.”

True laughs. “They’re about as sexy as those jalapeño boxer shorts you had on last week.”

I pull back to look at her face. “You don’t like my jalapeño boxer shorts?”

This is news to me.

“Um, they’re saggy in the ass, so that’s going to be a hard no.”

Huh.

“I like those damn things, and now I have to burn them.”

“Don’t go doing anything drastic on my account.” She giggles. “It’s not like they’re jalapeño face.”

“Wow. True Wallace has jokes.”

“Some.” She blushes at the compliment. “I’m not as funny as my brothers…”

When she says it that way, it sounds like she means it.

“Hey.” I tilt her chin with the tip of my finger. “You’re adorable and funny and clever.”

I love it.

I love her.

I love True Wallace, the mother of my unborn baby.