Pregnant by Mr. Wrong Page 3

  She needed to spend less time eating and more time tidying her apartment, she thought as she took in the chaos around her. Her apartment, which was normally neat and ordered, was anything but that right now. Exactly like her life. How had everything gone so downhill so quickly?

  Hopefully Quinn, who hadn’t been inside in a long while, wouldn’t notice anything amiss. Tapping her sock-clad feet on the carpet, she frowned as a noise like the blender started up in her kitchen. What on earth was he doing in there? While part of her wanted to get up and go check, her eyelids felt so heavy and the couch was too comfortable. She curled her legs up beside her and...

  * * *

  “He’s always working. He never wants to spend any time with me. We’re supposed to be getting married in under two months and he can’t even find the time to talk to me about it.” Bailey hated crying, hated sounding so needy, but now the words were spilling from her lips, and she couldn’t seem to stop them.

  “He’s a fool,” Quinn said, sliding his hand up her neck and into her hair. He twisted her head so they were looking into each other’s eyes. The way he looked at her sent ripples of awareness through her, and for a second she forgot what she was so upset about. All she could think about was how close he was and how good he smelled.

  “You’re gorgeous, Bails,” he whispered, his hot palm still resting against her bare neck. “Don’t let anyone ever make you feel otherwise.”

  Her nipples tingled as she wished his hands on them, as well. Then, as if he were a genie granting her every desire, he leaned forward and kissed the lone tear that, in her rage and upset, had trickled down her cheek.

  He pulled back, and their eyes met again as he licked his lips, tasting her on them. They stared at each other a few long moments, Bailey’s heart was pounding so hard she’d have sworn he could hear it, as well. And then he dipped his head and kissed her again. This time full on the lips. All notions of right and wrong flew out the window. All Bailey could think about was how amazing Quinn’s lips felt on hers.

  He dropped his hands to her ass and pulled her tighter against him, kissing her like she’d only ever dreamed of being kissed. Having been neglected of late, her hormones stood to attention, begging her to up the ante and kiss him back.

  A tiny voice in the depths of her mind tried to tell her that getting naked with him wasn’t a good idea, but Bailey ignored it, helping Quinn by shrugging off her jacket as he pushed it down over her shoulders. The blouse she’d been wearing for work came next. Their mouths parted as he whipped it over her head and she shivered momentarily as the cool evening air hit her skin.

  Not a word was said between them. Not a thought to where they were and who might happen to stumble upon them. Instead, Quinn dipped his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth. Despite the lace of her bra, she bit down on a shriek as he twirled his tongue around her bud, the sensations shooting right to her core.

  “God, Quinn.” She reached out to steady herself on his shoulders as he took her other nipple and gave it equal attention. With each flick of his tongue, he drove her a little more insane, a little more desperate. She wanted him, she needed him. Not just his mouth on her, but all of him, inside her.

  She reached her hand out and slid it down the front of his trousers. He groaned as her fingers closed around the prize, his warmth and hardness only increasing her desire. She was wet for him, her knees shaking, her toes quivering and her breath coming hard and fast in anticipation.

  He snapped his head back up and kissed her again, simultaneously raking her skirt up to her hips. Unsteady on her feet, she leaned back against a whiskey barrel for support and spread her legs, desperate for his touch. And Quinn gave her exactly what she wanted. He hooked one finger beneath her panties and slid the finger inside her. All it took was a few deft strokes and his mouth back on her nipple, and she was panting like she’d never panted before.

  As the pressure built up inside her, all she could think about was having him. “Do you have a condom?” she whispered.

  In reply, he conjured one out of his back pocket and held it up. Of course Jewell Rock’s chief Casanova would carry a condom. While she snatched the little foil packet and ripped it open with her teeth, Quinn yanked down his trousers. Smiling like someone about to win the lottery, she reached for his naked erection and rolled on the protection.

  Then, also grinning, Quinn lifted her atop the barrel and removed her panties, dropping them to the floor beside them. Desperate, Bailey wrapped her legs around him and anchored her hands on his shoulders, her head falling back as he thrust into her.

  * * *

  “Bailey? Bailey?”

  She blinked her eyes open and shook her head, shooting up into a sitting position at the sound of Quinn’s voice. He was perched on the edge of her coffee table, only a foot or so away from her, holding out a large glass with white liquid inside. How long had she been out cold?

  Long enough to have a sordid dream.

  Her cheeks burned and she hoped he couldn’t read her mind.

  “What is that?” she asked, her tone perhaps a tad accusatory, but having Quinn so close set her on edge. Awareness and guilt warred within her.

  “It’s a vanilla milk shake.”

  “You made me a milk shake?” She couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice as she reached out to take it from him, careful not to let their fingers touch in the exchange.

  He cocked his head to one side and smiled that toe-curling grin. “Well, you said you didn’t want coffee. I couldn’t find the ingredients for hot chocolate and you don’t like tea, but of course you had ice cream.”

  “You remembered I don’t like tea?” The surprises just kept coming.

  He nodded, his gaze trained on hers. “Of course. We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends remember each other’s likes and dislikes.”

  She swallowed. Friends? Was that what they were? Friends with benefits? Friends who accidentally made a mistake and slept together? Friends who just happened to have conceived a baby?

  “Thank you,” she managed and then took a sip of her drink. The cool sweetness slid down her throat. The man was not only hot and good in bed, but he could also make a mean milk shake.

  “Did you make one for yourself?” she asked, leaning back into the couch, trying to look relaxed—even though she felt anything but.

  “No. And I won’t keep you long. You look exhausted.”

  “Jeez, thanks. Way to make a girl feel good.”

  “Looking exhausted is not mutually exclusive to looking gorgeous, not where you’re concerned, anyway.”

  Her insides heated at his compliment, but common sense immediately reminded her that sweet-talking was simply Quinn’s way. It didn’t mean anything. “Why are you here, anyway?”

  He cleared his throat, and dammit, even that sounded sexy. “Well...um...” She’d never heard him sound anything but confident before and this stammering was strangely endearing.

  “Yes?” she prodded, wishing he’d just spit it out and leave. Somehow, while she’d been dating and then engaged to Callum, she’d managed to control her attraction to his younger brother. But now that she and Quinn had done the horizontal mambo, she couldn’t be within twenty feet of him without remembering how explosive they’d been together. Even the thought of how he’d treated her afterward, even the thought of his baby inside her wasn’t enough of a cold shower.

  “You probably know it’s my mom’s sixtieth birthday soon?”

  “Of course.” Before she’d ended her engagement, Bailey had been trying to work out the perfect present for her future mother-in-law’s big six-oh, but now she wasn’t sure Nora would want anything from her.

  “As you know, the last six months hasn’t been easy on her. Hell, it hasn’t been easy on any of us, but I don’t want to let this slide by without a celebration. My family’s all so
busy with the building of the new restaurant and Callum’s expansion plans that I was wondering if you would organize a party for her?”

  He didn’t mention his dad’s death in the equation, but Bailey suddenly wondered if grief over the shocking loss of his father was part of the reason Quinn had broken the rules and slept with her. Maybe none of them had been thinking straight.

  When she hesitated, he added, “We’d pay you, of course. I just want to do something really special for Mom.”

  She’d been going to refuse, but his heartfelt words and obvious love for his mother got to her. And, if she were honest, surprised her. Also, this was the grandmother of her baby they were talking about. She felt guilty enough about her secret, but, even if she did come clean eventually, right now it was too soon after she and Callum had broken up. She needed time to get her head around this situation herself and didn’t want to be the cause of family disharmony, so perhaps the least she could do was help make Nora’s birthday special.

  “And,” Quinn continued, sounding like a salesman who thought he was in danger of losing a sale, “it’ll be a chance for you to show the others your impeccable talent for creating magical events. That way, when the restaurant opens and we start holding functions at the distillery, everyone will be more favorably disposed to throw the business your way. I know you were interested in the McKinnel event contract.”

  She was interested in working with the famed McKinnel distillery—was, as in past tense, pre-baby. Now she wasn’t so sure working in such close proximity to Quinn was a good idea. He did crazy things to her insides. Then again, just because he’d approached her, just because he’d be paying the bills for the birthday bash, didn’t mean they’d need to spend much time together. Attending parties might be Quinn’s thing, but he generally left the organizing to others.

  “Okay. What kind of event were you thinking?”

  He slowly shrugged those big sexy shoulders and she tried not to stare. “Intimate but special. A few of her closest friends and family. A band, maybe a small dance floor. I was thinking we could hire a small marquee and hold the party at the distillery. If it’s still cold, we’ll also hire some heaters for the marquee. I’m sure Lachlan would be interested in catering and testing out some of his new recipes.”

  “You haven’t asked him yet?”

  He rubbed his lips one over the other. “I wanted to run the idea past you first.”

  “Why me? There are other event planners in the vicinity.”

  “Because you’re the best.”

  The way he said best, and the way he stared intently at her as he did so, wreaked havoc with her already errant hormones. It was almost as if he wasn’t simply referring to her work, but that thought was ridiculous. She tried to push it out of her mind.

  “Flattery will get you everywhere,” she joked.

  His lips curled into another grin. “Is that a yes?”

  She nodded while silently questioning her sanity. “Have you decided on a date yet?”

  “How about we meet for lunch tomorrow and talk details then? You can tell me what else you need from me to get started.”

  Lunch? He sounded like he might be a whole lot more involved in the planning than she’d imagined. Her stomach flipped at the thought of spending too much time with Quinn, but maybe working with him to organize this party would help her body and her hormones settle down. Because if she did tell him about the baby, they’d be linked forever and she’d need to be able to talk to him about their child’s welfare without harboring a head full of dirty thoughts.

  “Sure, lunch sounds great. Why don’t we meet in Bend and we can choose a theme and then go to the stationers to select the invitations.” Needing to keep in control of this situation, she made it sound like a statement, not a question. If they met in Bend, it would also be less likely that they’d be seen together by someone who knew them.

  “I’ll swing by and pick you up on my way.”

  “No.” That would make it more like a date—not that Quinn McKinnel did dating, but she needed to protect her own emotions. And being squished against Quinn on the back of his motorcycle would be like throwing her emotions to the piranhas. This was purely a business deal. “I’ll probably do some shopping before or after.” She named a lesser-known café in Bend and a time.

  For a moment Quinn looked as if he might argue about not picking her up, but in the end he conceded. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pushed himself off the coffee table and towered above her. Lord, he was tall—all the McKinnels were tall and good-looking, but if they were giving out awards, he’d win.

  She put down her milk shake and went to stand.

  “No, don’t get up.” He put out a hand to stop her. “I’ll see myself out. You get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Too tired to fight, Bailey let Quinn go and thankfully fatigue consumed her so that she fell asleep quickly and didn’t have time to worry or think about Quinn, the baby or what she’d just agreed to do.

  * * *

  “Well, hello there.” Callum looked up from behind the tasting bar as Quinn strolled toward him. He had the smug smile on his face—the smile that had been permanently in place since he’d shacked up with Chelsea—and Quinn guessed that one word about the baby would wipe it off. He’d have to tell his brother eventually, but announcing he’d gotten Bailey pregnant was probably not the smartest news to divulge when she hadn’t even told him yet.

  Especially as he was still coming to terms with it himself.

  Usually, he’d still be in bed at this time on a Saturday morning, but he hadn’t been able to sleep, his head too full with thoughts of Bailey, thoughts of a baby and thoughts of whether or not he really had it in him to be the type of dad he wanted to be.

  “We don’t usually see you round here on the weekend,” Callum said as he rubbed at a smudge on the bar with the cuff of his shirt.

  Since the warehouse shut down on the weekends, Quinn got Saturdays and Sundays off, whereas Callum and his other siblings who worked at the distillery—Sophie and Blair—worked pretty much 24/7. But that was their choice; he wasn’t going to be made to feel guilty about his. Their dad had been a workaholic (among other things) and in no way did Quinn want to emulate him. Ever since he was sixteen and walked in on his dad fucking a woman who wasn’t his mom, Quinn had vowed to never be like his father. But, in sleeping with Bailey, who hadn’t been available at the time, he’d been just like him.

  And now they both needed to face the consequences.

  “Is Sophie around?” he asked, ignoring his older brother’s observation.

  “She’s grabbing coffees,” Callum said, jerking his thumb down the corridor in the direction of their small staff kitchen.

  Before Quinn could say anything more, their sister appeared carrying two steaming mugs. Although she looked surprised to see him, unlike Callum she didn’t verbalize this surprise.

  “Hey.” She handed Callum his coffee and then stretched up on tippy-toes and kissed Quinn on the cheek. “How are you today, brother mine?”

  He forced a smile. “I’m surviving. And you?”

  “Much the same. What brings you in here?” she asked, not sounding accusatory in the slightest.

  “I wanted to let you guys know I’m organizing a surprise party for Mom’s sixtieth.”

  “Oh, that’s a wonderful idea.” The smile on Sophie’s face showed her approval.

  Callum raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t think to run this by the rest of us first?”

  “I’m telling you now,” Quinn said, knowing his brother was only annoyed because he hadn’t been the one to think up the brilliant idea. “I’m also telling you that I’ve commissioned Bailey Sawyer to plan it for me.”

  Sophie blinked at this news and Callum’s eyes looked positively dark.

  Before eit
her of them could say anything, Quinn spoke again. “You know she’s good and we agreed to throw some of our new event business her way. I thought this was as good a place as any to start. I’m meeting her for lunch later today, so let me know if you have any special requests for the party and I’ll pass them on.”

  At that moment the door opened and their first customers waltzed in, bringing a gush of cool winter air with them. Their eyes lit up at the sight of the log fire crackling in the middle of one wall, and Sophie went over to greet them.

  “Welcome to McKinnel’s Distillery,” she said in her eternally friendly tone. “Cool day out there. Warm yourselves by the fire and allow me to fetch you a taste of our finest bourbon to heat your insides.”

  “What game are you playing at, Quinn?” Callum asked, his voice low as Sophie wooed the gray-haired couple.

  Truth was, Quinn didn’t know what game he was playing at—he was making it up as he went along. Last night, when he’d stormed over to Bailey’s place, the last thing he’d expected was to ask her help to throw a party, but then she’d looked so tired and vulnerable, and something inside him had shifted. A party for his mom had been the first excuse that came into his head when she’d asked why he was there.

  He held up his hands in surrender. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just trying to do something special for Mom.”

  Callum’s expression said he didn’t buy this excuse for one second. Well, Quinn didn’t care—as long as Bailey did. He needed to spend as much time as possible with her. He needed to win her trust and respect so that she would feel comfortable inviting him into her life—and their baby’s.

  “Are you interested in Bailey?”

  Quinn crossed his arms and tried to ignore the guilt he felt at Callum’s accusatory tone. “What if I was?”

  “I’d tell you to be careful,” Callum replied, his serious eyes meeting Quinn’s.