I hoped Leah had a long flight. This bullshit wasn’t gonna look good for me.
Neither would the handcuffs slapped over my wrist.
Chapter Fifteen – Leah
The airport made me sick.
The flight made me sick.
Worrying about getting sick made me sick.
Just about the only thing that didn’t make me sick was three thousand miles away back at home. For some reason, the morning sickness faded when I tucked into Jack’s arms.
I wasn’t about to face the consequences of that little revelation. I suffered enough emotions and feelings and confusion when he touched me without actually needing his embrace to survive an upset stomach.
Still, Jack wasn’t as nice as a ginger ale and some saltines. Our flight was direct but took forever. They served a dinner that didn’t agree with me or the baby. Jolene’s gloopy spaghetti was bad enough, but the Salisbury steak they tried to give me almost ended up in her lap as I darted to the bathroom again.
I had no idea how long she’d think it was the flu, but I hoped I could cover for a bit longer. The baby was exciting, absolutely the greatest secret I had ever kept, but damn…it was hard to manage the little goober, the father goober, and this new potential deal. Everything was riding on this meeting, and an unwedded mother’s morning sickness would not sign contracts if they found out.
Fortunately, we had our own hotel rooms. Jolene checked into hers while I camped out in the bathroom. I leaned on the tub and contemplated either a cold shower or an ice cream sundae. I just wished I could snuggle under the blankets where the nausea and jet lag couldn’t get me. But Jolene ordered me to go over the details once more before we met our prospective clients for breakfast.
It wasn’t a glamorous job—yet. But maybe once we helped to present a deal that’d give the studios tax breaks for filming in Ironwood, I could finagle a part as an extra in some fun action movie.
Except…I’d probably be pregnant.
Really, really pregnant.
I cupped my stomach, a greeting to the little one I hid. Jack had tucked a rattle inside my carry-on. It wasn’t a great find with my boss at my side, but it was too cute—a sponsored Rivets toy painted with Jack’s number.
If the baby could just keep a low profile and let me make it through the breakfast tomorrow, we’d be good. But it was Jack’s baby, and he certainly didn’t know the meaning of low profile.
My phone buzzed. I groaned and checked the text.
Jolene’s text was practically seething. I was sick before I finished reading it.
Jack Carson was ARRESTED at a bar fight tonight
“Son of a—”
I washed my face and tried to hide the flush of morning-sickness as she pounded on my door. I let her in. She grabbed the remote without a word and flipped to the sports channels.
There he was.
Clear as day.
My baby’s father, the ultimate Jack-ass.
He stood outside a police station, surrounded by his asshole teammates and the media. Jack didn’t have his agent, his lawyer, or me there to answer his questions.
“What the hell is he doing?” I sunk onto the bed. “I told him to stay at home!”
The live feed probably had a television delay. Even if I had a chance, he wouldn’t hear my call. I resisted the urge to toss the phone. I didn’t have the arm strength to heave it three thousand miles to knock him in the head.
Jack faced the media and flashed his usual arrogant smirk when he thought people over-reacted. No remorse in his voice, no apologies. Just straight-up cocky charm that wouldn’t win over anyone.
It had only been a couple hours. How did he get arrested in a few hours?
And why did he have a black-eye?
Jack spoke, waving away a question from a reporter. The motion was condescending, not disarming. He had the social skills of a drunken toddler.
“Look, everyone.” He spoke, and the crowd hushed. Jolene cranked the volume up. “It was a misunderstanding.”
“Jack, shut up, shut up, shut up...” I repeatedly called his phone and prayed I wouldn’t throw up. “Just shut up.”
“We were out having a good time, just celebrating, things got out of hand. No charges were filed. Everything’s fine. Calm your asses down.”
“Oh, God.” I lowered my head into my hands.
Jolene stared at me, her arms crossed. “Do you have any idea what he’s done? The league is going to expel him for sure. You were supposed to be watching him!”
“I am watching him.”
“And the first night you’re out of town, he goes out looking for women?”
The thought clenched my chest. Now I would be sick. “No. He wouldn’t do that.”
“Do you really trust him?”
Jolene’s phone buzzed and beeped and chimed. It set my nerves on edge. Who knew what sort of information she was getting, but I had to defend him.
“I do trust him,” I said. “I just don’t trust him to keep his mouth shut when I should be the one talking for him.”
The impromptu press conference pissed Jack off, but he refused to push through the crowd. I knew he did it for me. The last thing we needed was anyone else accusing him of breaking cameras or causing more trouble. The media pressed tighter. His temper snapped.
A reporter tossed a microphone in his face. “Why were you out partying tonight, Jack?”
Jack grimaced. “We weren’t partying. We were just out for a few hours.”
“What about the fight, Jack?”
He shrugged. “Just a misunderstanding. It’s okay. No problems.”
Another reporter crashed into his side. “How’d you get the black-eye, Jack?”
“Wrong place, wrong time.”
“Thought the coach and league told you not to go out anymore?”
His patience wore out. “I’m a grown fucking man.”
The station didn’t bleep it in time. I groaned. There was another apology he’d hate to make.
“I can go where I want, when I want,” he continued. “I don’t need league approval when I want to go out with a group of friends to celebrate.”
“This is bad…” Jolene bit her nails. She broke into the mini-fridge and offered me a small bottle of alcohol. I took it before I realized what I did. She didn’t watch, and I rested it on the bed beside me. “He needs to get out of there.”
The reporters closed the gap he tried to sneak through. “What were you celebrating, Jack?”
The irritation and stress cracked him. He wove through the crowd of reporters and forced an exit. The question repeated five or six times from different outlets before he made it to the car and a police officer held the crowd back. Finally he turned, offering the media vultures a cold smile.
“I was out celebrating because I’m going to be a father. You all ruined the night. Thanks.”
Oh.
God.
No.
The remote slipped from Jolene’s hand. She whipped around to stare at me, grabbing the alcohol bottle from the bed. She downed both.
“He’s…” She covered her face. “You’re…”
I wasn’t about to explain the how or why. I couldn’t, especially now that our little secret had given us something better than whatever relationship we constructed for his reputation.
I nodded and looked down. “It’s…still early.”
“You’ve been sick for two weeks.” Her words trailed off. “Oh, Leah. How could this happen?”
“It’s okay.”
“You had your life planned.”
“Really, it’s okay. We can handle it.”
“You can.” She pointed to the television. “This man can’t. Do you have any idea how this is going to look?”