The Yeah, Baby Series

Damn, I loved her. It hit me in that moment, that I’d never told her. I decided to do it when I officially proposed. I was confident she felt the same, and hopefully the romance of it all would make up for the hasty “engagement” before we left Atlanta.

After several hours of meet and greets, going over contracts and other paperwork, and tours; we were finally done for the night. Sienna looked dead on her feet, and I chastised myself for letting her come with me in the first place.

By the time we reached the hotel, she was out like a light. It was ten thirty east coast time, and I felt the strain of the long day, too. I carried her to the bedroom and undressed her before tucking her into bed. Then I stripped and climbed in, pulling her gently into my arms and wrapping myself around her.

I thought about her bout of sickness that morning and how tired she had been lately. The last week had been exhausting, but she’d seemed even more drained than I’d expected. I’d also noticed that she tasted different than she had the first few days after we first slept together. I hadn’t really thought much about it at the time, but now…

Hugging her a little tighter, I placed my hand flat on her smooth belly and smirked. If I was right about the timing, I knocked my woman up the first time I fucked her. The image of Sienna, round with my baby and her naked body pressed to mine, put me in a painful state. But, I started running through recipes in my mind to calm my raging libido down and eventually, I succumbed to sleep.

10

Sienna

I’d greatly enjoyed the past few days. It wasn’t just because I was getting an insider’s view of how a reality television show works. It was also seeing Owen in his element. Not that he wasn’t when we were at Saphyre, but it was different seeing how other incredibly successful chefs interacted with him. The two other judges were experts in their own rights—an award-winning pastry chef and an Italian chef who was a household name—but they seemed to defer to Owen. The same was true with the producer, director, and the contestants.

It was because of that deference that it took me a couple of days to notice the way one particular contestant treated Owen. Liz Fields looked and acted like she was at a beauty pageant instead of a competitive cooking reality television show. I figured it was just her “branding,” the way she was hoping to stand out against all the competition. It wasn’t my thing, but I didn’t judge her for it—until I saw how she always kept her focus on Owen. How she smiled at him. The way her eyes drifted along his body and filled with feminine appreciation. The simpering voice she used when she talked to him. The snide looks she gave me when nobody else was looking.

Owen didn’t pay any special attention to her. He treated her the same he did any other contestant. I knew he wasn’t interested in her, and I shouldn’t feel threatened by the crap she was pulling. But I’d been more emotional than usual. I couldn’t seem to catch up on the sleep I’d lost the week before, and it had left me feeling overly sensitive. Or at least that was what I was telling myself because I didn’t want to admit that I was just a possessive bitch when it came to my man.

As each episode was filmed, I silently cheered for anyone but Liz to win. When it came time to eliminate a contestant, I kept my fingers crossed hoping they’d say her name. Six episodes down, and my wishes hadn’t come true yet. But today was a new day—or it almost was since we’d headed to the studio before the sun had even risen in the sky because they were doing a breakfast themed challenge this morning.

When we’d arrived, Owen had gotten me settled on the couch in his dressing room. It was comfy enough that I fell asleep for a couple of hours. When I woke back up again, I stretched and felt better rested than I had in a long time. The nap was exactly what I’d needed, not that I was going to tell Owen that since he’d had to talk me into lying down instead of joining him on set. If I let him know how often he was right about stuff like that, he’d always be bossing me around. Well, more than he already did.

I paused in front of the mirror and fixed my makeup before I headed out in search of Owen. Since the red light above the doors to the set weren’t lit up, I opened them and walked inside. A quick scan of the space confirmed he was exactly where I expected him to be, in the thick of things. He was at a work station with the eight remaining contestants surrounding him while he set a perfectly baked quiche on the counter.

“The secret to a great quiche is the ingredients you choose to fill it with,” he explained. “You can use just about anything you like; vegetables, cheeses, and meats.” He gestured towards a bowl of tomatoes set off to the side. “If you’re going to use something like tomatoes in your quiche, I’d recommend that you seed and drain them first. My personal preference is to peel them as well.”

I smiled as I moved closer, noting how most of the contestants were paying close attention to every word out of his mouth, nodding every so often. My smile was wiped from my face when I noticed that Liz was standing right next to him, so close that her arm brushed against his.

“You also want to make sure to have a good balance, with flavors that complement each other.” He sliced into the quiche he’d made and lifted a piece onto a plate. “This particular combination is my fiancée’s favorite. Asparagus and bacon, with parmesan cheese. I’ve added some green onion and nutmeg for an extra little kick. If I’d wanted something a little milder, I could have gone with leeks instead of the green onions. Swiss cheese would have worked well in place of the parmesan, too.”

Liz’s eyes lifted, and I knew she saw me when she stepped even closer to Owen and smiled up at him. I rolled my eyes, refusing to play her stupid game when I woke up from my nap feeling better than I had since we’d arrived in California. I wasn’t going to let her ruin it for me. Instead, I continued forward and took a deep breath, hoping to catch the scent of that quiche because it was one of my favorite breakfasts.

Catch it I did, but I quickly wished I hadn’t when my stomach promptly turned. I bit my bottom lip as saliva started to pool in my mouth. “Please, no,” I whispered softly. I hadn’t vomited again since the day we’d flown in, but I’d been queasy more often than I liked to admit. I figured it was due to me being exhausted and didn’t mention the issue to Owen. If I had, he wouldn’t have let me lift a finger the whole time we’d been here and probably would have forced me to see a doctor. Not that I had a problem with medical professionals; I just preferred to use ones I knew. I also didn’t like going to them for every little thing, and if I didn’t keep some of what ails me to myself, that’s exactly what Owen would have me doing.

Liz’s smile bloomed at my obvious distress, but it was wiped from her face when Owen spotted me, took stock of the look on my face, and rushed towards me. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I don’t feel so good,” I admitted softly. The quiche smell wafted my way again, and I slapped a hand over my mouth.

Owen swept me off my feet and carried me back to his dressing room. He headed straight for the bathroom, and it was a good thing because as soon as we got there I dropped to my knees and dry heaved. “Poor baby,” he murmured, rubbing my back with one hand while he held my hair up with the other.

One advantage to having not eaten anything yet today was that it didn’t take long for the nausea to pass. Then mortification crept in while I washed my face with the towel Owen handed me before brushing my teeth.

“I can’t believe I almost made a fool of myself in front of that woman,” I grumbled around my toothbrush. “Can you imagine how superior she would have felt if I’d puked in front of everyone?”

“Woman? What woman?”

Damn. I hadn’t said anything to Owen about how much Liz was getting on my nerves, and now I’d blown it.

“Miss Cook

ing USA, Liz.”

He tilted my chin up with one long finger. “Has she been messing with you, baby?” His brow was furrowed and his eyes sparked with irritation.

I shrugged. “It’s just been little stuff. Nothing to really worry about.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“I didn’t want to put you in a difficult position since we’re here for you to work.”

He dropped a quick kiss on my lips and rubbed his finger over the ring I was wearing. “As much as I meant it when I told you how sexy it is when the green-eyed monster gets hold of you, I don’t like the idea of anyone hurting you in any way. Especially if she’s crossing the line while you’ve got this on your finger. It takes a set of brass balls to pull that kind of shit when a man like me holds your fate in his hands.”

I was torn between wanting to point out the ring was there but I wasn’t really engaged to him and jumping him in gratitude for the thread of fury in his tone as he talked about the contestant from hell. He didn’t give me the chance to decide between the two, though.

“Have you been nauseous any of the other mornings?”

I grimaced, nodding. “It hasn’t been this bad, except for that first day when it was probably just from traveling. I’m not sure why it’s lasting this long, especially not today when I’m finally feeling rested.”

“I can think of another reason you’d be sick in the mornings.” His hand slid down to my belly and a soft smile graced his face. After a moment, his implication hit me.

“A baby?” I gasped. Closing my eyes, I pictured the calendar in my head. When realization dawned, they popped back open. “Oh my goodness, my period is late. Like later than late. How did I not notice?”

He grinned down at me. “I have been keeping you pretty busy.”

“Yeah, but—” I couldn’t quite wrap my head around the idea of me being pregnant. With Owen’s baby. Owen—the man that I loved. With the way my heart filled at the idea, there was no denying that I loved him. But I was also scared to death about how he was going to react to this situation.