Her Baby Daddy Read online Emily Bishop

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
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Riley’s jaw dropped.

“I’m serious. If you want a baby, you should do it the old-fashioned way.”

“You’re suggesting I find the donor and screw him instead?” she asked.

“No,” I grunted.

Riley scrambled off the sofa and stood on the puddle that was her dress. She didn’t notice, fisted her hips and glared at me, instead. “Are you kidding? You think you get to tell me what I should or should not do?”

“I’m not telling you shit, other than you need to think about it. This isn’t the right time for you to—”

Riley lifted her palm and pressed it toward me, physically shoving the idea back. “I don’t need your advice. I don’t need your judgment. I need you to back the hell off, right now. Everything was fine, Jax. I don’t get it. Why can’t you just—?”

“What? Shut up and take it? Sorry, hon, that’s not who I am. When I see a shitstorm coming, I sound the alarm, and this little plan of yours is one of those. Not because you want to raise a baby on your own, Riley, but because you are too stubborn to accept my help.”

“I don’t need your help,” she replied. “I don’t need anything from you.” She paused, a muscle in her jaw twitching. “No, that’s a lie. I need one thing from you. Space.” She walked out of the living room and back down the hall. The guest room door clicked shut a second later.

I couldn’t regret bringing it up.

She might think it was none of my business, but she was wrong.

Chapter 18

Riley

My morning warm-up routine started before anyone else arrived at the studio, Veronica included. Of course, I’d dance when she arrived too, but when it was this early and I was all alone, I finally understood my body.

I hooked one leg around the pole, arched my back against the metal cylinder, lifted my free leg and grasped the toes behind my back, swirling in circles, my eyes closed, lost in the rhythm of the music.

Music box—that was the position’s name, and I loved it because it stretched me out. I landed on the boards, then brought myself back up into the iron X, my hands on the pole, my legs out to one side and open. It took extreme concentration and focus on the core, but the burn in my center brought me a type of high I adored. It was good.

Stretching, moving, working my body into the different poses, and twirling around the pole in-between more strenuous moves. I didn’t have a set routine, per se. I moved as my muscles needed it.

“Escalate” by Tsar B pumped through the stereo, and I moved sinuously, landed, and scissored my leg up in a high kick.

“Starting so early?” Veronica’s voice cracked over the music.

I kept my center and lowered my leg, opened my eyes. “Hey,” I said. “I could say the same about you.”

Veronica carried her gym bag on her shoulder and wore a pair of gray yoga pants and a matching crop top, her hair tied up in its usual messy bun, a few blonde strands escaping. Her cheeks were flushed and dark half-moons had made an appearance under her eyes. Very unlike her.

The last time Veronica had had those was three years ago—when Nessy’s sleeping problems had finally come to an end. The woman maintained that she’d missed enough sleep in those three years to account for her nightly ten p.m. bedtime.

Veronica shrugged her shoulders. “What?”

“Nothing,” I replied. “You look good.”

“Oh, whatever. You know I don’t look good when I haven’t slept well.” She stomped over to the chairs in the corner and dumped her bag on top of them. She zipped it open, too viciously, and brought out her water bottle. She slurped water noisily.

“Ron,” I said.

She held up a finger until she’d finished gulping.

“Ron.”

“Don’t Ron me, OK? You didn’t come back last night. You didn’t answer your texts. I was worried sick about you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” I replied. “I can handle this.” I looped my arm around the pole and touched my temple to it. “Veronica, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not fine. None of this is fine,” she said and tossed her water bottle back into her gym bag. “I—I’ve had no one for the longest time. No one except Grandma, who died when I was twenty. You know that. And now, he just rocks up and he’s some billionaire who’s made something of himself while I’m struggling along. Struggling to support Nessy. It’s embarrassing.”

“You could ask him for help.”

“No! That’s not what I’m saying, Riley. You don’t get it. It’s just—we’re from the same family, and we took two completely different paths, and I just refuse to believe that any of this is happening right now. I know who he was back when I was in my teens. I heard all about it when he called me. The only time he called me, by the way. Why should he get to have such a big piece of your life now? What’s the guarantee he won’t walk out on you like he did on me?”


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