ROMANCE: BAD BOY ROMANCE: M.V.B. - Most Valuable Baby (Sports Secret Baby Romance) (Contemporary Interracial Pregnancy Romance) (51 page)

“Frankie Carmichael from New York,” the man said, opening his little fridge a foot away from the bed. “Nice to meet you. I’m Hanes Copper from Texas.” He took out a carton eggs and showed them to her. “You like eggs?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

As Hanes fried the eggs—naked all the while—Frankie slowly put her clothes back on. She was afraid to move too quickly in case he thought she was trying to run away from him. And he had been so nice and charming—and he was hot as hell—of course she wasn’t running from him. But she did have to get out of here. She had to go back to New York and straighten everything out.

They didn’t talk much as they did their own things. It made it all the more awkward, but necessarily uncomfortable. By the time she was dressed again, Hanes had set two plates of scrambled eggs on the little table across from the little oven.

“You just visiting?” he asked, walking over to a tall, slim door and opening it. It blocked him from view, but a second afterward, Frankie could see him take out a few items of clothing.

“Yeah,” Frankie said after a pause. She shook her head and tried to get a hold of her nerves. She sat in front of a plate of eggs and began eating. “I’m actually going home today.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah. Last night…” Loss and betrayal singed her core. She breathed past it. “Let’s just say, there’s nothing here for me anymore.” She took a small bite of eggs and swallowed it down quickly.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He closed the little door, revealing his clothed-self now. “But New York’s gotta be an exciting place.”

“It is,” she said, smiling fondly. “Truth is I’ve been missing it.”

Hanes settled himself on the seat across from her. He scooped up a large bite of eggs and asked, “Do you need any help getting home?” He slid the fork into his mouth and chewed, green eyes watching her intently.

Frankie furrowed her brow. “Help?”

“You want me to pay for a cab or something to get you to the airport?”

“Oh!” That was thoughtful. Affection and appreciation bloomed within her heart. She was about to kindly refuse the offer, when she remembered her absent purse and absent ex-boyfriend. She cringed. “Um, if you could loan me some money for the bus, that would be wonderful. And I’ll pay you back before I leave tonight.”

He shook his head and waved his hand. “It’s no problem. You can keep it.”

“Thank you, Hanes.”

“And you don’t need to keep thanking me, darling. I’m just treating you right, is all.”

Damn straight, she thought fondly.

After a lovely breakfast, she left the trailer and headed for the closest bus stop Hanes had known about.

CHAPTER FOUR

Months later, Hanes found himself back in the one place he never wanted to return to: his parents’ estate.

In his defense, his baby sister Gina had called him for help. And while he could let his greedy brothers rot in Hell, he could never ignore sweet Gina.

“Not even mom would help you out with this?” Hanes asked, entering his father’s study.

What was once a tidy, gleaming room of modern technology and books was now a room full of boxes and dust bunnies. His father must be spinning in his coffin.

Gina walked past him and up to one of the bookshelves, half empty of books and half full of dust particles. The overly mature twelve year-old grabbed as many books as she could and pulled them out of their place before turning them over. She shrugged and walked to one of the boxes, where she put the pile of books in.

Hanes sighed, bowing his head. He watched Gina continue this pattern—take out books, put them in box, take out more books—before the tense silence urged him to copy her.

“How have you been doing?” he asked. “With…everything? And school? How has school been going?”

“You never cared about school,” she said, giving him the stink eye but not slowing in her movements.

He pursed out his lips. “True enough. But…” But dad always did. He had been furious when Hanes dropped out of college. The memory made Hanes smirk.

His father had been a relatively calm man, but when it came to his family—well, he was a different person entirely. At the funeral, people had told Hanes how similar he was to the old man in that regard.

“I’ve been tired,” Gina said at last. She stood in front of a box—now full of books—and stared at its inner contents. Her lips twisted in that way they did when she was trying to sound tough. “Everyone here is either crying or arguing. And now with that whole stupid thing with dad’s will—” She scoffed, shaking her head.

Hanes cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me dad gave all of his money to charity?”

“You should have attended the hearing. You would have had a front row seat to the circus yourself.”

“And who said I ever wanted that?”

Gina smiled at him. “True enough.” Dusting off her hands, she walked over to their father’s desk. “Apparently, dad’s inheritance will all go to the first kid who has an heir of their own. Dad left a little note about the importance of family or something like that. I didn’t really hear what the lawyer said after the first part because everyone shouted and argued and—gah, it was awful.”

Hanes stopped dead in his tracks. He dropped the books in his arms in the box beside him and turned fully to Gina. “You’re not serious.”

“Why would I make something like that up?”

“Dad really put all of that in his will?”

“Yeah.”

He laughed, a spiteful kind of joy blooming within him. He stared heavenward. “He truly was a wonderful man.”

Gina huffed, but otherwise said nothing.

“Wait a minute.” Hanes strode up to her, cleaning out the desk of papers and such. Grinning, Hanes placed his hands on the soot-covered desk and leaned toward his baby sister. “Are you meaning to say that your other brothers aren’t here helping because they are trying to knock up some poor women?”

Gina gave him a pointed look that told him everything.

Hanes chortled. “God, that’s beautiful.”

“Not for the poor women.”

“And why not? They get a kid and a bunch of money. Sure, they need to partake in at least one horrible act of attempted sex from our very ignorant, immature siblings, but still.” He spun around and glanced at all the boxes. Never had he been so happy with one of his father’s decisions, even though it meant he had to be one of the people doing the clean-up. He nearly laughed again.

CHAPTER FIVE

Frankie parked the rental car right outside the empty arena, her eyes sweeping over the mostly empty parking lot until they spotted Hanes’s trailer in the distant dirt patch. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or even more anxious to see that he was still there, so she just blinked and waited for a few moments.

Turning off the car, the heat was quick to rise and smother her. She placed a hand over her slightly swollen belly and got out. This time, she had a large purse with her, and she plopped the keys inside of it while still staring at Hanes’s trailer.

Her first and only one night stand…and he was the father of her unborn child. It was funny, but it was also terrifying. Not that she feared being a mother—she was thrilled about that, even if it didn’t occur as traditionally as she had wanted it to. No, her throat constricted because she didn’t know if she should even tell Hanes. But he had the right to know, didn’t he? What if he wanted to be a father?

Custody might be difficult to arrange. She was in New York and he was here.

Frankie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Telling him was the right thing to do. She had decided that weeks ago. Now, she just had to finish her journey and walk to the trailer.

The thought made it a little harder to breathe. Pressing her lips together forcing herself to inhale deeply from her nose, she opened her eyes and strode onward. No more hesitating—no more fear. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it as fast as she could.

She must have knocked on Hanes’s trailer door over thirty times before she it finally realized he wasn’t home. The tremors beneath her flesh ceased, her palm pressing against the door as she sagged forward.

“Hanes?” Frankie said, relieved yet disappointed when no one responded.

She slid her hand down the door before letting it fall a bit toward her belly. Her gaze remained upward, trying to peer past the blinds. Anxiety built up within her again as she tried to imagine what Hanes would say once she told him everything.

Would he curse her for telling him? Would he be insulted that she didn’t call him sooner?

Frankie shook her head and leaned closer to the windows. “Hanes?” He clearly wasn’t here, but saying his name like he was made Frankie feel less…guilty? Nervous? She wasn’t even sure. It just felt good. “Hanes? It’s Frankie. From…erm…a while back.”

A gentle glint caught Frankie’s eye. Though it difficult to see much through the blinds, she could see part of a shiny saddle with something engraved on it. Frankie shielded the top of her eyes and pressed her face against the dirty window.

“Big Jim’s Ranch and Stables.” Frankie furrowed her brow, eyes glued to the engraving. The name was familiar…

She reeled back and walked quickly to her rental car. Big Jim’s Ranch and Stables—Frankie had seen signs all over town giving directions to various properties owned and leased by “Big Jim.” Hanes must work at one of these places when he isn’t bull-riding.

Perhaps if she found out where Big Jim himself was at, he would know where Hanes was.

It took a while—driving around town, driving by several renting stables and fields—but eventually, Frankie drove down a long, narrow driveway leading toward the estate of Big Jim. At least, the mailbox at the front of the driveway had the words “Big Jim” and “Estate” on them, so she felt that she was in the right place.

Driving less than ten miles an hour, she glanced around at the gorgeous green fields that surrounded her. The estate itself looked like a palace, and in the distance, there were two—no, three barns, all freshly painted and gleaming in the sun.

It was like a heaven for cowboys.

Frankie parked the car in front of the fanciest garage she had ever seen. Unable to breathe, she got out of the vehicle and clutched her purse with both hands.

There had been no gate—no “DO NOT TRESPASS” sign—but everything was so big and beautiful that she couldn’t help but feel threatening. God, what if they sent a guard out to apprehend her?

Frankie walked toward the front deck of, what she assumed was, the actual mansion and not some expensive side-house or workshop or something. Rich people often had all kinds of “houses” for various uses.

A light wind grazed the grass and bushes, but shy of that, it was silent. Frankie sweated, her hands shaking as she held her purse over her stomach.

By the time she got to the front door, she was wheezing. She knocked on it—too soft at first, fist quivering—again and again, the harsh sound grounding her in reality. She was fine. She was innocent. She was a pregnant woman looking for her baby’s daddy. That was it. The more she told herself this, the harder she knocked.

When the door opened, she actually jumped and reeled her fist back.

“Hi,” she blurted, grinning. “I’m—”

Hanes stood there, sleeves rolled up and shirt partially unbuttoned. His eyebrows rose the second he registered her. “Frankie?”

Frankie nearly blushed. He remembered her. Her fist still in the air, a part of her remembered to lower it while the rest of her was fixated on Hanes’s green eyes.

“Hello,” he said, smiling. “It’s good to see you again.” He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. Then, before she could even process what was happening—masculine scent, strong arms around her—he backed away. “But what are you doing here? I thought you hated country living?” He sounded sincerely confused rather than affronted.

Frankie tightened her grip on her purse, though the sight of him eased away many of her worries. She almost felt like just flat-out saying— “I’m pregnant.”

She paled a second after he did. Damn her and her tactlessness.

“I don’t want any money or anything like that,” she said, nails clawing into her purse while a nauseating quiver jiggled in her gut. “I know you live in a trailer and all that, and if you were loaded, I wouldn’t—that’s not why I came here. It just seemed like the proper thing to do, you know? I don’t want to put any kind of pressure on you, but keeping a secret like this—hiding from you—God, I would hate if you did something like that to me. Well, not that you could, because you don’t have a—” Frankie pressed her purse against her mouth. Her entire body flushed with humiliation, her heart constricting at the sensation. She was torn between vomiting and crying. Luckily, she managed to do neither.