Author: Bella Andre


He knew just how that went, considering he could hardly make sense of what she’d just said to him with her soft hair brushing over him, her sweet scent washing over him, and her curves pressed lightly into him.


“I’m glad you’re here.” She pressed a soft kiss to his lips before turning to greet the children like old friends she’d been dying to see again.


Jake watched little boys and girls happily surround her, even the babies crawling from their mother’s laps to get closer to her, and his heart turned all the way over.


Everyone in his life was so predictable, but not this beautiful woman who was reading so animatedly from a book about an elephant and a pig who were playing with a ball. As the children laughed with her when the elephant lost the ball, he realized Sophie Sullivan was the only person who had ever kept him on his toes.


He couldn’t imagine anymore what life would be like without her. Without her spark. Without her laughter.


As a girl, she’d been sweet and he’d been charmed despite himself. As a woman, she was sensual and bright, sexy and sweet, a thousand contradictions wrapped up into one irresistible package.


He’d asked her for a chance, for seven days to prove that he had what it took to take care of her and their children. She’d given him that temporary gift and now he needed to give one back: the support of her family at a time when she needed it the most.


Jake took one last, long look at the beautiful woman who had gone from role-playing “naughty fantasy librarian” to “silly piggy” in the span of one short morning and knew there would never be a better reason for the hell he was about to willingly walk into.


* * *


Sophie looked up from the book she had just finished to see Jake blow her a kiss before walking away. The women at story time practically sighed in unison.


She couldn’t stop the smile from growing on her face as she admired his broad back, his narrow hips, the way the tips of his dark hair curled just the slightest bit over his collar. Things had changed between them in the past twenty-four hours.


He’d asked for a week, but it looked like he was going to beat it by a mile.


No doubt he’d enjoy rubbing that in, she thought with another grin.


She said goodbye to the little girls and boys and their parents, then went back to her desk just as a ten-year-old boy walked up. “I need to write a book report about Abraham Lincoln, but the only book I can find on him is this one.” He held up a thick, dusty tome that she doubted she’d want to read herself.


Something about the boy reminded her of Jake. Not because of any physical similarities, but more his manner, the way he held himself. She’d met Jake at this age and he’d been larger than life to a worshipful five-year-old.


“I don’t read all that fast, or that good,” the boy told her, his cheeks flushing slightly at the admission.


Again, she couldn’t help but be reminded of Jake. And the slightly panicked look in his eyes when she’d asked him to help read to the children.


“Do you know if there are any other ones that are smaller? With easier words?”


She smiled at him. “There sure are. Follow me.”


But as she helped the little boy find the books he needed, she couldn’t stop thinking about Jake and the fact that he hadn’t been in the library until today, and she hadn't found a stash of books anywhere in his house yet. She didn’t expect everyone to be as addicted to books as she was, but in her experience, unless someone had major reading disabilities, they usually could find something they enjoyed reading.


Just then, a wave of nausea hit her and she lost the train of her thoughts. Her muscles were suddenly achy and, for the first time since she’d gotten pregnant, she needed to sit down. She grabbed for the nearest step-stool and sank down onto it as she took a few deep breaths. Who knew morning sickness could hit so far into the first trimester?


Then again, she thought with a small smile, nothing about this pregnancy, or the man she loved, was all that conventional, was it?


And she wouldn’t have it—or Jake—any other way.


* * *


The sun was setting by the time Jake got through the endless meetings he’d been blowing off all week. He found Zach Sullivan in the private garage off the main Sullivan Auto building, under a dinged-up old Ford truck from the twenties he was obviously rebuilding from scratch.


Zach spent enough time on the ground to recognize most people by their shoes. “Be out in a sec,” he said to Jake.


How long had he known Zach? For more than twenty years they’d backed each other up during fights, made sure the other guy made it home in one piece if he got tanked, cursed and cheered on sports teams. But one thing they’d never done together was to sit down and share feelings.


A week ago—hell, two and a half months ago—Jake should have come clean about Sophie. He wasn’t willing to be a lying coward for another five seconds.


“Sophie and I are together.”


Zach slid out from beneath the car so fast, he was practically a blur. “What did you just say?”


The menace in Zach’s question was all the more impressive for how steady his voice was. Almost as if he were asking for a glass of water.


“Your sister is pregnant. We’re having twins.”


His friend’s hands were on his throat a millisecond later. “I’m going to kill you. And no one is going to give a damn.”


Jake figured Zach was right about one thing at least: no one should give a damn if he died. But Sophie would care. His kids would care.


Thinking of them made him strong enough to fight off Zach as his friend came at him ultimate-fighting style. Nothing was off limits. Not nuts or teeth or hair or feet straight in the gut. Jake had expected this, would have been pissed at his friend for doing any less to defend his sister. Those expectations didn’t make it hurt any less, unfortunately. And even in strict self-protection mode, he still had to get a couple of good slams in on Zach just to try to remain upright.


Both of them were bleeding in separate corners of the garage when Zach spat, “I’ve knocked a lot of guys to the ground for messing with my sisters before, but I never thought you’d be one of them. No one will ever be good enough for my sisters. How could you have laid one finger on Sophie?”


“I shouldn’t have.” But he had. Over and over. And he refused to even think of giving her up now. He wouldn’t do that for anyone, not even the people who had helped raise him, who had given him a home and a family to go to when he wouldn’t have had anything else without them.


“I’m marrying her.”


“Look,” Zach snarled, his nostrils flaring, “Nice had a crush on you. You took advantage of it. Now she’s pregnant. Don’t make things worse by mar—”


“Sophie is more than one goddamned word!”


Jake’s voice was loud enough to carry out of the garage, but he didn’t care who heard him. It was time her siblings started seeing the real Sophie Sullivan the way he did. As more than Nice.


“Yes, your sister is nice. And sweet. And kind. But she’s also cool and risky and willing to put herself on the line when anyone else would be running for cover. She’s more woman than I frankly know how to handle, but I’m going to work like hell to try to keep up with her and our kids.”


If it had been anyone else, Jake would have walked away. But Zach knew every crappy thing he’d ever done, and was the only one who knew he hadn’t been able to read until he was ten...because his friend was the one who had taught him how to wrestle letters into words.


“I love her.” The three words he never thought he’d have to admit to anyone sounded like they’d been raked over gravel. “I’ve always loved her.”


Jake tried to prepare himself from Zach’s leap across the room to kill him. Instead, Sophie's brother slumped back against the wall and said, “I know.”


Jake’s jaw would have hit the floor if he hadn’t been holding it to try to keep the bones together.


Zach held up two fingers in front of his own face and worked to focus on them, dropping them with an irritated scowl. “You’ve been in love with her since we were kids.” Zach yanked himself to his feet. “Smith is going to lose his mind over this. They all are.”


Jake knew full well this was only the first of many beatings to come at the hands of the Sullivans. He used a tool cart to pull himself up. “She’s worth it.”


“Of course my sister’s worth it.” Zach scowled. “I just can’t believe I’ve got to write another speech. Nearly killed me writing the last one.”


“You wrote Chase’s wedding toast ahead of time? It was the worst one I’ve ever heard.”


“Get ready to hear an even worse one.”


That wasn’t the least bit funny. He wouldn’t let Zach do anything to upset Sophie. “I’m going to write your speech for you and you’re going to say it word for word. And,” Jake warned his friend, “I promised Sophie I would let her tell your family about the pregnancy when she was ready, so don’t screw up her big announcement by saying anything to anyone before she does.”


Zach looked down at Jake’s curled fists and shook his head. “My brothers have been losing their minds, one by one, over women. But seeing you like this...over my sister.” Zach opened a metal drawer and uncovered his hidden liquor cabinet. He poured himself a large shot of Scotch and downed it. “Love,” he sneered.


Zach was pouring himself another shot as Jake headed back to his car to go tell Sophie that he loved her.


He always had.


And he always would.


Chapter Twenty-one


Sophie was walking down the hallway to her apartment, flipping through the mail she hadn’t picked up all week, when she heard a low voice say, “Sophie.”


“You surprised me,” she squeaked as she almost dropped the stack of mail. “Oh my God, Jake!” The bills and advertisements fell from her hand.


He looked like he’d been mugged and beaten in an alley, covered with bruises and drying blood from his forehead to his chin.


“It looks worse than it is.” He touched his jaw. “Probably should have gone home to clean up first.” Even with the bruises, the cuts, all across his face, he was impossibly beautiful as he asked, “Any chance you remember how to bandage up a guy after a fight?”


She knew she should unlock her door and take him inside, but she needed to hold him right that second. She opened her arms and he walked into them, pulling her tight against him.


“It’s so good to see you,” he said into her hair. “So good to hold you.”


She didn’t know how long they stood like that in her hallway. All she knew was that she didn’t want to ever let go of him. Everything had seemed so perfect this morning, like maybe there was a chance that they were going to get their happily-ever-after.


Not moving her head from where it lay over Jake’s heart, she asked, “Who did this to you?”


Jake finally pulled out of her arms. “Let’s go inside.”


She frowned. That wasn’t an answer.


Her hands were shaking slightly as she slid her key into the lock, but she worked hard at remaining calm as she moved into the kitchen, found a clean hand towel, and turned on a stream of lukewarm water to wet it. God, she hated knowing Jake was hurt. He was so much bigger than she was, but she wanted to protect him, wanted to make sure he didn’t know any more pain in his life than he already had.


His voice came from behind her. “I went to see Zach tonight.”


She spun from the sink, forgetting she had the wet towel in her hand and flinging water on her walls. “Why?” But she knew why. “You told him about us, about my pregnancy, didn’t you?” When he didn’t deny it, pain moved through her as she said, “How could you? You promised me you’d wait. You promised you’d let me figure things out first.” She loved him—would always love him—but she was angry with him too. “Why ask for a week if you weren’t actually going to give it to me?”