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Waking Up Pregnant
Waking Up Pregnant
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Waking Up Pregnant

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Jeff shrugged, reaching for his Scotch. “Wouldn’t know. It hasn’t happened yet. Seriously, what kind of decent woman would want that kind of emotional carnage on her conscience?”

Darcy looked this guy up and down, taking in the details she’d glossed over before. The overly thick shock of dark hair with a mess of unruly cowlicks at total odds with the serious, straight cut of his classic suit.

But if the hair and suit were a working contradiction, they were nothing compared to his face. The heavy, squared-off jaw and single flashing dimple. The rough look of a nose that had seen a break or two and the ridiculously long fringe of dark lashes over eyes a soft, earthy hazel. On looks alone, this was a man who could keep a girl guessing. Add his confidence and charm to the mix and she imagined most women wouldn’t mind playing Jeff’s guessing game for as long as it was on offer.

Yeah, he was definitely more dangerous than she’d given him credit for.

Time to clear things up.

“Look, Jeff. I’m flattered, but I don’t date customers. Ever.”

“I noticed when I came in. I like it.”

Mmm, and this she was definitely familiar with. “Because it makes me a challenge?”

“Yeah,” he answered with an unrepentant grin and glint of mischief in his eyes.

And okay. Not so familiar after all. “Wow, and honest, too.”

“It’s the best policy. Eliminates the potential for all kinds of trouble. Ensures everyone is on the same page. But back to the issue at hand...I’m a fun date. You’d have a good time. There’s got to be somewhere in town you’ve always wanted to go but haven’t gotten around to. Tell me what it is and I’ll take you tonight.”

Darcy was about to shut him down, but as she stood there looking at that half-playful, too tempting smile all she could think was how many things she’d told herself she’d get to sometime, but never managed to do. And how long it had been since she’d really had fun.

Now her time was up. She was leaving tomorrow.

Jeff was offering her a chance to— God, was she seriously considering this?

She never said yes. Never gave in and did the fun thing for fun’s sake. Maybe tonight, after living the straight and narrow for so very long, she could afford to break the rules without worrying about tomorrow.

“I’ll think about it.”

* * *

A few minutes later, Jeff was exchanging back claps with Connor Reed, whose call had been the typical success his buddy made of everything he set his mind to—the only glaring exception being a broken engagement from two weeks prior. One Connor wouldn’t acknowledge any kind of emotional reaction to whatsoever. Hence, the bromance intervention in progress.

Because Jeff had been there. He knew what it was to be blindsided with the realization that the perfect romance you were about to bet your future on—not so perfect after all.

“No, I don’t love him, Jeff. It’s not about him. Or you. It’s about me feeling trapped and doing something desperate to escape. I’m sorry.”

Yeah, it sucked.

So, they’d done the gambling bit the night before, hit a few clubs and bonded in the manly way guys were most comfortable bonding. Thereby ensuring the whole guys’ weekend spiel Jeff had lured Connor in with, wasn’t a total snow job. But the grunts and knuckle bump portion of the weekend was at a close, and their friendship being what it was, Jeff made no bones about it.

Pushing the Scotch he’d ordered in front of Connor, he jut his chin at the drink. “You might want to get a head start on that.”

Connor shot him the half smile he’d never quite figured out how to make whole. “Little old for drinking games, aren’t we?”

“Time to put your big girl panties on, man. I brought you here to talk feelings. Deep emotional feelings. And because you know I’m your best friend and always right, you’re going to sit there and take it like the man I know you can be.”

The half smile was gone. “Jeff, I told you—”

“Don’t bother. This is going to happen. But because I respect your stunted emotional intimacy boundaries, once I’ve said my piece we’ll have a few minutes of smack talk, just to get back on comfortable ground and then I’m going to give you your space and take off. Most likely taking the blonde bombshell who happens to be our server with me. Deal?”

Connor picked up the glass in front of him and took a fortifying slug. Then cocking his jaw to the side, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “Okay. Let’s have it. But make it fast.”

Jeff caught Darcy watching him from over by the bar, a little furrow marring the otherwise flawless skin of her brow. He cast her a quick wink and then folded his arms over the table returning his attention to Connor.

“Your wish, my command. So, let me set the tone... I love you, man....”

A few dozen old adages, choice idioms, apt metaphors and select bits of fortune-cookie wisdom later, Jeff’s work was done. There were things he’d needed the guy to hear, and things he needed to hear back. As it turned out, Connor hadn’t been so bad off after all.

At least not in the way he’d imagined.

Emotionally stunted, however, didn’t quite cover it as far as the intimacy issues went. But that was a can of worms for another trip. Connor had given him his walking papers a few minutes ago and now Jeff leaned back against the bar, watching as Darcy worried her bottom lip.

No, she wasn’t the unreachable, cold woman he thought at all.

“What about your friend? He looked really upset while you guys were talking.”

Uncomfortable, yes. Upset, probably not. “Turns out the broken heart may have been more a case of dinged ego.”

“You men and your egos. Does he name his, too?”

Jeff waved her in closer. “Guys don’t tell other guys what they name their egos.”

This time when he saw the little twitch at the corner of her mouth, he acted without thought and brought his thumb up to brush the vulnerable spot threatening to give him exactly what he’d been working for.

At the bare touch, her lips parted on a small gasp and their eyes met. Then quietly but firmly she said, “I won’t go back to your room with you.”

Jeff brushed that little corner of her mouth again and then withdrew his hand, parking it firmly in his pocket. “So when are we leaving?”

She searched his face as if looking for a reason to say no, and for one crushing instant when she ducked her head and glanced away, he thought he’d lost her. But she was just untying her apron. And when she looked back at him, it was with eyes that were confident, clear and determined. Excited. “As soon as I get out of this uniform.”

* * *

“Does this count as sweeping you off your feet?” Jeff shouted, the laugh lines branching from his eyes, deeply creased, and the grin promising pure mayhem, gone full tilt.

“I’m totally carried away!” she gasped around the elated laughter she’d given herself over to.

The night breeze whipped at Darcy’s hair as she careened down to Freemont Street, gripping the security harness tight as she went and wondering if this rush of unadulterated exhilaration had more to do with the zip line or the man a few feet away.

Still decked out in his suit and rocking a very double-oh-seven vibe with the harness and wind and all, Jeff cocked his head in her direction. “Your turn to pick next, beautiful. I’m looking for some more local flavor. It better be good.”

They’d been going back and forth for hours already, starting with a light dinner at one of the city’s most coveted hot spots, where a twenty-second phone call from Jeff five minutes prior to their arrival scored them an immediate table complete with the VIP treatment and a breathtaking view. The restaurant had been her choice. One she’d only suggested because Jeff’s cocky grin and wild assertion he could get them into any place she wanted to go had been a challenge she couldn’t resist.

Turned out, there was more to the guy than talk.

Dinner, despite the upscale locale, had been casual and easy. The conversation varied and entertaining. Jeff was one of those men who seemed to know something about everything, and—whether the topic be movies, her wish list of travel destinations or the local economy—listened as much as he talked. And by the time they’d finished their coffees, Darcy had stopped second-guessing whether agreeing to go out with him had been a mistake, and was looking forward to finding out where they would go next.

From there they’d hit a rooftop roller coaster, stopped to get Jeff a snack at her favorite taco stand, driven out to the Neon Museum where the old signs of casinos past were put out to pasture, stopped to watch the choreographed fountains and then went on to walk the famous casino and hotel’s gallery of fine art.

Along the way, Jeff seemed to make fast friends with everyone. He checked the score for big games with valets, and made small talk with old ladies when he held the door for them. He was the kind of smooth that normally had warning bells clanging in Darcy’s head but for some reason, with Jeff, none of her typical knee-jerk reactions or default defenses were coming to the fore. In fact, she found herself letting go around him in a way she seldom did.

And the laugh he’d been working so hard to earn...well, once they’d left the casino, she’d given up the fight and had been paying with interest ever since. Laughing at his outrageous stories, at herself, at a last night in Sin City she never would have expected. A night she doubted she’d ever forget. Because not only was she experiencing a side of Vegas that had been previously unavailable to her, but thanks to Jeff’s curiosity about her tastes, she had a last opportunity to relish those old favorites, by introducing them to him and explaining what made each a standout on her list.

It was a getting-to-know-you game. One she never would have played if she hadn’t been leaving. But there was a safety in knowing this was just one night. No risk of expectations getting away from her. Darcy knew the score. This was about a few hours of fun. It was safe.

At least that’s what she’d thought until the zip line ended and her feet touched the ground. Jeff walked over and, catching her hand in his, pulled her gently against him in a hold that really shouldn’t have come across as anything but casual. Only with the heat of his body seeping into hers, the steady, deep thud of his heart beneath her hand and the warm rush of his breath teasing through the hair behind her ear as he asked in that low rough voice of his if she was having a good time—casual had never felt so intimate.

Tipping her head back to meet his eyes, she nodded, swallowing past a wordless reaction she wasn’t accustomed to. A displaced sort of tug low in her belly made her feel as though she were flying and falling all at once. Jeff’s gaze searched her own, drifted lower. Her thoughts went to the moment when he’d touched her mouth back at the bar. To the words she’d said.

...I won’t go back to your room...

And the question of whether she still meant them.

“Let’s go find someplace to get a drink and figure out what’s next on our agenda,” he said taking a step back as he let her go. The move was so unexpected, Darcy nearly stumbled at the absence of contact.

For an instant she’d been sure he would kiss her. Even now as he scanned the surrounding area in search of their next stop, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t felt the press of his lips against hers.

More, she couldn’t believe she’d wanted to. Because what kind of madness would that be?

Jeff reached around her, resting his hand at the small of her back and asked, “What’s the best bar in a three-block radius?”

The light contact felt good, even if for a crazy moment she’d thought she might want more. This was quality date stuff and she wasn’t in any hurry to lose it. But a bar... “How about ice cream? There’s a creamery just up the way here.”

At Jeff’s speculative look, she answered his unspoken question. “It’s sort of a trust thing.”

There was no judgment in his eyes when he asked, “You don’t trust me? Or, and since you serve drinks for a living, I’m going to guess this isn’t it, you don’t trust yourself to stop?”

She laughed, leading the way as they walked. “The only person I trust is me. So don’t take it personally. I like to stay sharp because I don’t want to find out the hard way who I can or can’t trust not to take advantage.”

The easy smile Jeff had been sporting throughout the night slid from his lips and something dark and protective pushed into his eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said with a knowing shake of her head. “There’s no horror story. At least not mine. In Vegas or probably any city, you hear things. I pay attention. And I’m just very...practical. I’ve always been like this.”

Jeff’s expression relaxed. “So you’re risk adverse.”

“Some would say to a fault.”

“But not you?”

“But not me. If I thought I was doing something wrong, living in a way that didn’t satisfy me or left me feeling like I was somehow missing out—I’d change it. Like I said, I’m pretty good at looking out for myself. I’m my number one priority. So I’m not really one to sit idle waiting for someone else to call out my problems or fix them for me.”

“So you’re a risk adverse woman of action, taking charge of your own destiny.”

The corners of her mouth curled beneath his succinct categorization of her.

She’d been called a lot of things, by a lot of guys when they hadn’t gotten their way with her. Cold, hard, icy. Names that indicated her lack of interest must stem from a shortcoming on her part rather than a simple lack of desire to pursue something with a guy making passes at her while she was at work.

She slanted Jeff a sidelong look. He was just that—a guy making passes at her while she was working. And yet something about him struck her as so wholly different. Different enough, that as she kept telling herself the reason she’d agreed to go with him was because it was her last night in Las Vegas, some small part of her wondered if she would have gone with him whether she’d been leaving or not.

No. She shook the thought off, casting an inward scowl at the idea she’d do something that went against her principles after she’d just explained how keen she was on self-preservation.

“Strong and independent. A woman who knows her own mind. I like that.”

“Yeah?” she asked, turning around to walk backward as she looked at him. “And me?”

“I definitely like you.” He raked those big hands through the mess of his hair as he scanned the sky above them and then met her eyes with a straightforward stare. “I like the way you surprise me. That I didn’t have you figured out within thirty seconds, or hell, even now, hours later.”

Her steps slowed and Jeff closed the distance between them, resting his hand over the curve of her hip. “And I like that I can make you laugh, because the sound of it—”

He shook his head, still holding her gaze. “When you give into it for me—” his fingers tightened against her hips in a brief possessive grip “—all I can think about is how I’m going to get you to do it again.”

* * *

“Jeff.”

If he’d thought her laugh knocked him flat, hell, it was nothing compared to the breathy sound of her voice when she said his name like that. Like maybe she wanted the very thing he’d been about killing himself not to press for.

Sure once he’d made up his mind about getting her to go out with him back at the lounge, he’d assumed the natural progression of the evening would lead to a physical conclusion. They were both adults and there’d been a chemistry between them.

And he wanted it.

Hell, yeah, he did.

But something kept holding him back through each of those crossroad moments where the opportunity to change the tone of the night presented itself. The conflict in her eyes was like none he’d seen before. And it spurred some deeply instinctual need in him to protect her.

This woman he’d thought had ice in her veins and could level a man with one look alone was vulnerable and for some reason, tonight, she’d trusted him to take her out, show her the good time she all too rarely got and give her the night she deserved without whatever had her worrying that lush bottom lip of hers between her teeth. They could be the simple, uncomplicated, good time the other remembered in the years to come.

He smiled, thinking Darcy would get a kick out of that bit of fire-hose-flexing ego.

Who the hell knew if she’d remember him next week, let alone next year. But he hoped she would. Because he’d remember her.

* * *

What was she doing, looking into this guy’s eyes like she couldn’t physically make herself look away.

She didn’t make the reckless choice. Not ever.

She didn’t give in to the feel-good moment.

She liked control. In her work, in her life, in her heart and mind.

But somehow Jeff with all his ego talk, comfort in his own skin, confidence in his actions...his going after anything and everything he wanted like it never occurred to him he couldn’t have it, was tempting her to behavior she didn’t indulge in.

Making her want something she knew she shouldn’t take. The experience of surrendering to a feeling. The chemistry tingling across her skin, batting around in her belly and whispering temptations through her mind since the first moment their eyes locked, and she realized this guy had just seen something she didn’t show to anyone. And he’d liked it.

Her belly knotted tight at the idea of stepping so far out of her comfort zone. She’d already made too many exceptions. Starting with the conversation at his table and ending with the two of them standing here looking into each other’s eyes.