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“Does it list anything else?” Prentice asked, grabbing the phone to scroll through the article Nixon had pulled up. Then he speared me with a glance. “You’ve seemed more tired than usual lately, and fatigue is another symptom. What about morning sickness? Have you been nauseous and didn’t tell me?”

I tugged the phone from his hand and set it facedown on my lap. “No, I haven’t thrown up or anything. Maybe if I had, I would’ve realized that I was pregnant sooner.”

“It’s early days yet.” Prentice stroked his hand over my belly. “There was no way for you to know.”

“Yeah, but you should’ve known better than to knock her up in the first place,” Nixon grumbled.

Prentice flashed him a smug grin. “You really want to talk about our sex life?”

Ember laughed, then pressed her lips together to keep from doing it again.

“Fuck no.” Nixon went as pale as they’d accused me of being, his mouth falling open with the upper lip curled back in an expression of pure horror. Jumping to his feet, he shuffled back as though we were about to have sex in front of him and he couldn’t get away fast enough. “As far as I’m concerned, this is a case of immaculate conception, and my sister is still pure as the driven snow.”

I giggled so hard, I snorted. “Sure I am.”

Ember lost it, earning herself a nasty scowl from my brother.

Prentice’s smile softened as he aimed it my way. “You look better. Some of the color is coming back to your cheeks.”

“I’m good. I promise.”

“You’re better than good, baby. You’re fucking perfect.” He leaned forward to press a kiss on my belly. Then he stood and helped me to my feet. “And there’s no fucking way I’m not shouting this news from the rooftop. I kept my mouth shut about our relationship, and look what happened.”

Nixon chuckled. “Your roof would work pretty well for spreading the word.”

“Or just walking down to the gate,” Ember added.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my brows drawing together.

My brother jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “There was some media out there when I got here, and I’m sure their numbers have only grown in all this time. Especially if they got word about the pregnancy test you had delivered to the house.”

Ember jumped up and went to the window, peeking through the slats. “Yeah, they're nearly double what they were when I arrived.”

Prentice shook his head. “Nobody on my team would’ve said anything. Everyone has signed an NDA.”

“I haven’t,” I announced with a grin.

“Yeah, but you’re different.” He stroked his thumb over the engagement ring he’d given me. “I knew you were going to be mine when I asked you to handle my social media, so I didn’t run you through the normal hiring process.”

Thinking about how we’d made out that first day at his house, I blushed. “You definitely didn’t.”

Nixon shook his head and sighed. “I don’t even want to know.”

“Probably not,” I laughed, and my best friend snickered along with me.

“But there’s something the paparazzi want to know, and I’m gonna tell them. Even if one of them already saw what was in the bag,” Prentice announced before stalking out of the room.

“You don’t think he’s actually going…” I trailed off, my eyes going wide.

“To go out there and announce to the world that you actually are knocked up?” Nixon asked.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“You mean, would the over-possessive, obsessed caveman who loves you really go announce to the world that you are carrying his baby?” Ember’s tone was dry.

“Yup.” Nixon let the P on the end pop. “I think it’s a damn good bet that he’s lost all sense of reason and is really going to tell them about the pregnancy when he never used to share anything private with the media. He kept his interviews to football until he met you.”

“And you just let him go out there?” I shrieked, racing after Prentice.

Nixon hurried to catch up to me, placing his hand on my lower back as though he thought being pregnant meant I wasn’t capable of walking by myself. I had a feeling I was going to be dealing with this kind of behavior from him and Prentice a lot over the next nine months. But that was a problem for another day. Right now, I had a different crisis on my hands.

When I walked through the front door, Prentice was already marching toward the front gate, where the paparazzi were camped out. I wasn’t quick enough to stop him from announcing, “We’re pregnant!”

He sounded as though he’d just won another Super Bowl ring or something, pumping his fist in the air in a gesture of triumph.

“That wasn’t subtle at all,” Nixon drawled as I collapsed against his side in a fit of giggles.

“Told you,” Ember added smugly from right behind us. “And I don’t think he’s done,” she added, pointing in the direction of my man.


Tags: Fiona Davenport The New York Nighthawks Romance