Hard to Hold (5 page)

Read Hard to Hold Online

Authors: Katie Rose

Chapter 6

This is totally fucked up.

Logan ran down a narrow strip of grass, kicking a ball to the guy across from him in a drill, his mind in a tailspin. He hadn't thought of this possibility, that Desiree would simply disappear with some dude and leave her baby girl behind.

So she meant it. It had finally sunk in when her neighbor had echoed her exact words, that this wasn't working for her and it was time for the father to step up.

But he wasn't the fucking father, for chrissake!

Clearly he remembered using a condom with her. There was that inevitable moment of awkwardness when the action stopped while he fumbled around in his glove compartment to find the foil packet. Then came the equally uncomfortable moment of slipping it on as Desiree leaned up on her elbows, panting, as if to say,
What the hell are you doing
?

Was she right, that they were only eighty-five percent effective?

“Hey, Logan, get your head out of your ass! You missed the goddamned shot!”

He glanced at his teammate and saw that the ball was rolling away from them both, toward the open field.

“Shit,” Logan said under his breath and ran to retrieve it.

The baby couldn't be his.

He'd only had sex with Desiree that one time. He knew couples who'd tried for years to get pregnant.

She had Jessica's hair.

Desiree was a natural brunette. That he remembered clearly as well. But as he kicked the ball back to his teammate, another thought stopped him cold.

She had called him right after he'd left for Europe but didn't leave a message. He'd seen her number on his cell, tried to return her call even though he knew there was no sense in keeping in touch, but got her voicemail.

It was about six weeks after their night together. That was enough time, wasn't it, to have skipped a period? Had she been calling to tell him she was pregnant and needed his help?

Suddenly his Keurig coffee turned to acid in his stomach.


Hart
!”

The head coach, Guy Lindon, blew the whistle practically in his face, snapping him out of his thoughts. “What are you doing? Are you with us today? You missed it again!”

“I need a minute.” He stepped out of the chalk lines and walked away, even as the coach glared.

Go fuck yourself
, Logan mentally told him, and he saw that his message was received. The coach looked furious, but he didn't care.

For Logan, the rest of his life was at stake. If Cinnamon was truly his daughter, he would have to rethink everything, his career plans, his goals, his living situation…

It was a total game changer.

—

Isabella was having a blast.

It wasn't often that she was given carte blanche with a credit card to buy whatever she wanted for a baby.

So she treated Cinnamon to not just the necessities but also an adorable comforter and matching pillow, cheerful yellow curtains for the windows, and towels for the bath. She found a cute mobile of air balloons to hang over the bassinet and some colorful Disney pictures for the walls.

The baby would need a crib very soon, so she ordered one in white with a matching changing table. The store promised they would deliver the furniture within a few days, which was perfect. She could get the nursery completely set up before they had to leave for Logan's game next week.

She was humming to the baby as she left the furniture store and then pulled into Carter's. There she had even more fun picking out sundresses, rompers, cotton nightgowns with drawstring bottoms, and even a bathing suit. By the time she was done, Cinnamon had everything she would possibly need for a good six months.

One stop left. Spotting a strip of medical offices, she pulled up to the sign for the medical building. There were benefits to have a pediatrician as her best friend, she mused, and one of them was getting an immediate appointment when she needed one. As she entered the doctor's office, she gave the receptionist the paperwork, and then grinned in recognition when Anna McCarthy appeared, looking very official with her white coat and stethoscope.

“Hey, Bella, how are you? I was thinking of calling you. Looks like you have a new charge?”

The pediatrician picked up the baby and placed her on a scale.

“Yes, I just started with her this week. She's about three months old. She's had a rough time, so I'm putting in a lot of effort to help get things turned around.”

“In what way?” Anna asked, pausing to jot down the baby's weight.

Isabella related Cinnamon's story.

“Oh, my God,” Anna said, shaking her head in disbelief. “How could a mother do that?”

“I don't know her, or the circumstances. But I agree, it is sad. And the father…Well, let's just say he's not convinced that he is. The father, I mean.”

“Wow.” Anna shook her head as she continued the examination. “She looks healthy. Her weight is a little low. She's about three months?”

“Yes. That's one of the things I was going to talk to you about. She had some issues with colic. Wondering if we should try another formula?” Isabella produced a bottle from inside her bag. “This is what the mother was feeding her.”

“We can try something else, but keep a few of these on hand just in case she has a problem. Do you have her vaccination record?”

“Yes. The mother at least gave all this to Logan. That's my client. He's a soccer player.”

Anna glanced at her with interest even as she scanned the sheet. “Looks like everything is up-to-date. So a professional athlete? Some of those soccer players are gorgeous.”

“Yes, and this one is that times two. He's good-looking but a little arrogant. Very alpha male.”

“Stop it, I haven't had a date in six months.” Anna gave her a look. “So how are you managing in close proximity to him?”

Isabella shrugged. “So far, it hasn't been an issue.”
Except for this morning when he was walking half-naked around the condo
…“But I have absolutely no interest in getting involved with him that way. My job is to make sure this little girl has a good start in life, and that means getting Logan Hart engaged as a parent.”

“Sounds like a tall order,” the pediatrician said, her brows raised. “It's hard enough to get some of these fathers involved even when they are married. But if anyone can do it, you can. I agree, from what you've told me, this baby need someone stable in her life.”

“He wasn't happy about it, but he is starting to get the message.” She grimaced as she thought of their argument that morning. Getting Logan onboard was going to be an uphill battle.

But she was prepared for that.

“I'm glad to hear it. Here's a prescription for vitamins. Since we don't know her circumstances for the first three months, let's keep an eye on things. I'd like to see her gain a few pounds. Give it a week or two, and then maybe start adding some solid food to the diet. But try the new formula first. We don't want too many changes at once. That way we know, if she starts to have gas or indigestion, which was the cause.”

“Okay. So I think we're going to be busy the next couple of days, but when things get settled I'd love to have you over for a glass of wine. We haven't hung out as girlfriends for ages.”

“Sounds great. And maybe since he's off-limits to you, the hottie soccer player might like me?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

—

Logan ignored the puzzled looks of his teammates as he took a seat in the stands. There was no sense trying to work the drills. He had to get his head on straight, and there were too many thoughts competing for his attention.

What if he couldn't find Desiree?

What if she never came back?

What if Cinnamon was his daughter?

He was in no position to take care of a baby long term. His jaw muscles tightened as he played that one out in his brain but calmed as he remembered the envelope Desiree had left with him.

There was a date set for the paternity suit she'd filed, at the New Jersey Superior Court in Burlington County. He grimaced as he recalled glancing over the documents, a Certificate in Support of Establishing Paternity, where Desiree had detailed the circumstances of where and when they'd had sex. She'd checked “no” in the box asking if she'd had sexual intercourse with another man thirty days before and after the child was conceived.

No surprise. She was trying to get him on the hook; she wasn't likely to admit she was fucking someone else.

But there was also a list of other circumstances she could have checked to strengthen her case, details like him sending cards or presents, attending the birth, visiting the baby. Thankfully, she didn't lie about any of that, though it would have been easy enough for him to prove he was in Europe at the time the baby was born.

The additional documentation simply stated that if he contested her claim, the court could demand a DNA test. And that would answer the question once and for all.

The court date was less than a month away. Desiree would have to appear for the hearing. He would see her then, settle things between them, and get the baby back where she belonged, with her mother.

It was just a few weeks.

A few weeks
living with Isabella…

Logan knew he could stay away from her for a month or so, but what if it was longer? What if things didn't turn out the way he'd planned, and Desiree refused to take the baby back?

What if he couldn't keep his fucking hands off his nanny?

He refused to go there. He had to believe everything would work out fine, especially once he spoke to Desiree and his world returned to sanity once more. Cinnamon would be back with her mother, he would be free, and the beautiful Isabella would be torturing some other poor family.

That thought got him off the chair and heading back to the field, feeling a whole lot lighter. He could handle any shit for a few weeks, even a situation as fucked up as this.

“You ready now, from whatever it is you were doing?” Sergio asked, although of all the players, he alone understood.

Logan shot him a grin even as he kicked the ball. “It's called thinking. No wonder you're unfamiliar.”

Chapter 7

Isabella carried Cinnamon into the condominium and put her safely into her bassinet before returning downstairs to bring up her purchases. In addition to getting the baby things, she'd done some food shopping, recalling that the refrigerator contained little more than a few cans of beer, a couple of eggs, and a slice of cold pizza.

She had to smile at that as she stocked the fridge. Logan was a typical bachelor in some ways, especially when it came to food. And his condo was obviously furnished by a designer who must have taken one look at tall, blond, and gorgeous and decided dark leather and metals.

But then she thought of the luxurious sheets on her bed, the hotel-quality towels, and the thick comforter she'd found in her closet. Apparently when it came to the bedroom, Logan was particular.

That got her thinking in a way she immediately shut down. Images of Logan between those crisp white sheets were a little too distracting for her peace of mind, and she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.

When she finished putting away the food, she started to set up the nursery. The furniture would be delivered in a few days, so she stacked the diapers, wipes, and the receiving blankets against the wall until the changing table arrived. Some of the clothing she also set aside for the bureau, but she hung a few of the baby dresses and outfits in the closet, pausing to smile at the bright colors and patterns.

Cinnamon would have food, a decent wardrobe, and a nice place to sleep at the very least.

And she was very glad she'd been able to get in to see Anna, especially with travel coming up. She'd met the pediatrician a few years ago when she was caring for a celebrity's little boy, and she'd liked her immediately. Over time they became friends, bonded over children they had in common, and enjoyed each other's company when not working.

As she folded the tiny undershirts, Isabella thought of Anna's comments about Logan. Even though she knew she was joking, the image of the two of them tussling between his nice sheets was a little disturbing…

She shook her head in disgust. She was being ridiculous! Why did she care? She had no interest in Logan. Maybe he and Anna would work out together?

But she had to laugh at the notion. Anna was very type A, driven, professional, and independent, while Logan was very much an alpha male.

They'd kill each other within five minutes.

With that satisfying thought, she finished stocking the nursery just as Cinnamon stirred, looking for a feeding. It was a welcome reminder that she had a baby to take care of. She didn't have the time or the energy to be entertaining ideas about Logan and who he dated.

Even if it was any of her business to begin with.

—

It was late when he got home.

Logan had gone out for a few beers with his teammates after practice, feeling normal for the first time since Desiree showed up at the bar. He had a plan, and that took all the pressure off. A few weeks from now everything would be resolved.

He'd make damn sure of it.

In the meantime, he had to admit it was a relief to know that Isabella would be taking care of Cinnamon. Logan didn't want to think about what it was like to be fully responsible for an infant. There were feedings, diaper changes, nap times, and playtime. He couldn't leave the house without taking her, and that meant packing up bottles, diapers, bibs, and all the other bullshit that went along with the baby.

He'd felt trapped. And when the crying started, he thought he'd lose his fucking mind.

As he walked into his condo and tossed the keys on the kitchen counter, he noticed a covered dish on the stove. Frowning, Logan removed the glass lid and saw that there was some kind of macaroni thing inside.

Was it something that Isabella had made for herself, and then forgot?

Or maybe she made it for him?

After grabbing a beer from the fridge, Logan got a fork from the silver drawer and stabbed a couple of the macaroni. He'd intended to just try the dish, but when he tasted it, he groaned.

Lobster macaroni and cheese. With broccoli.

And it was to die for.

His stomach growled as he reached for a second sample. Normally he ate just to satisfy his hunger, but now he took his time, savoring the cheeses, the pasta, the sweet chunks of lobster, and the bitter texture of the broccoli.

Fucking amazing.

Either Isabella was a hell of a cook or she knew a great takeout place. Whichever the case, he was in hog heaven. Taking out a bowl from the cabinet, he spooned half of the casserole into it, leaving the rest in case it was intended as her midnight snack. He rationalized by observing it was way too much food for one person, and he was actually doing her a favor by saving her from all those calories.

Yeah, right
.

But he couldn't help himself; it was too damned good to pass up. And if he got into trouble with her, fuck it, he'd sweet-talk his way out of it the way he always did.

Regrets fled as he enjoyed the food. Each bite was better than the last. He cleaned the bowl and downed the last of his beer. This simple rustic dish was probably the best meal he'd had since Italy.

Fully satisfied, he rinsed the bowl and stuck it in the dishwasher. It was then that he noticed the slips of paper positioned under the dried flower arrangement on the countertop. Receipts. Taking another swig of beer, Logan examined them.

Babies R Us.

Carter's.

Pottery Barn Kids.

Frowning, he mentally calculated the total. It was over a thousand fucking bucks!

Stunned, he recognized his credit card number. He did tell Isabella to buy whatever the baby needed, but he wasn't expecting this shit! He turned on the light and began to inspect the documents closely.

A crib, dressing table, and bureau.

Clothing.

Bottles. Diapers. Blankets. Vitamins. Thermometer. Vaporizer.

The last items were what he had expected her to purchase, but the majority of the expense was the furniture.

Fucking furniture!

What the hell was she doing, ordering a crib for a baby who would only be here a few weeks? It made no goddamned sense!

As if hearing his thoughts, Isabella ventured into the kitchen. Dressed in an open robe with a sleep T-shirt and shorts beneath, her hair in a braid, she yawned. He had enough presence of mind to see that she appeared adorable.

Something she had no business looking like in his home after a couple of beers when his guard was down…

“I thought I heard you come in.” She gave him a sleepy smile that made his blood pound. He could picture her naked in his bed as he reached for her, waking her up with his hand between her legs as she came…

“I see you found the casserole?” Her gaze shifted to the open dish still on the stove.

“Yeah.”
You need to get this shit under control. She works for you, asshole.
But there was something intimate about the two of them sharing the kitchen in the middle of the night, as if they were truly a couple.

And Isabella dressed in sleepwear. So she wore cotton! He tried to look away, but he could see the outline of her breasts beneath the soft fabric, the length of those legs, bare from mid-thigh down. Shit! He had to fight to keep from scooping her up in his arms, taking her to his bed, and giving her a night she wouldn't soon forget…

“I hope I didn't eat your snack?” He forced his brain to work.

“No. I left it for you. I ate earlier.”

So she had made him dinner! Before he could recover from that, she opened the fridge and removed a bottle for the baby. Through the sex fog he noticed a new appliance on the counter.

“It's a bottle warmer,” she explained. “I thought it would work really well for you. Takes all the guesswork out of feedings.”

“That's great,” he said, reaching for the bottle at the same time she did. Accidentally, their fingers touched, and Logan pulled back quickly, as if shocked. But then he noticed Isabella looked flustered and busied herself with inserting the glass cylinder into the device.

Logan's mind was racing. So she had made him dinner and was now here, in the kitchen with him, scantily dressed…

Get a fucking grip.

“I gave her the bottle cold.” He forced his attention back to the conversation they'd been having. Was she avoiding his eyes? “Maybe that's why she got…what did you call it?”

“Colic,” she supplied helpfully. “I took her to the pediatrician today. She checked out fine. We are going to try a different formula to see if that helps.”

He was nodding, appreciating that she was taking care of the details. And grateful for the distraction. “I'm glad she's healthy.”

“If it's any consolation, her shots are up-to-date. At least the mother had done all that.” She finally looked up.
Definitely avoiding his gaze.
“I ordered some furniture. She's going to outgrow the bassinet very quickly.”

“About that.” Logan took another sip of the beer and tried not to look at her tits. “I'm not sure that kind of expense makes sense. Desiree filed a paternity suit and she'll have to show up for the hearing in a couple of weeks. If she takes the baby back, we won't need all that stuff.”

“You really think that will happen?” She actually snorted!

She made him sound like a prize idiot. “She's her goddamn mother!” Logan exploded. “Once she realizes she could lose her child…”

Isabella did an eye roll. “Logan, you need to wake up. This woman doesn't sound as if she has a maternal bone in her body. I've seen it before; some people just aren't cut out to be parents even though they can reproduce. I don't think there's a chance in hell she's going to take that baby back.”

Sweat broke out on his brow, and he paced the floor. “She has to! This is ridiculous! I am not—”

“You don't know if you are the father or not.” Isabella sternly cut him short. “You've had sex with this woman. If you really want to know the truth, get a DNA test. But in the meantime, you have a baby.”

“Christ,” Logan swore, his anger evaporating, replaced by confusion. “How could this have happened? I don't know what the fuck to do.”

Isabella's expression changed from the lecturing schoolmarm to sympathy. And it would have been fine if she hadn't closed the distance between them and put her hand on his shoulder in an effort to comfort him.

But she did.

“I get it that this is a shock, something you weren't at all expecting at this time in your life,” she said softly. “Maybe you are right. Desiree shows up for the court date, you talk, and it all turns out okay.” She took a deep breath, and he could swear he drowned in those fucking eyes. “But if it doesn't, you're going to need a plan B. And I'm here to help you.”

That did it. All of it. The meal, the caring, the assurance that he wasn't alone, that this woman was in it with him, made him snap. His gaze lowered from her eyes to her lips and his blood heated. They were perfectly shaped, a little pouty and wet, as if begging him to taste her, and her hand seemed to burn where she touched him…

He wanted her. Wanted her in a way he had never wanted any other woman, and needed her twice as much.

He might have still resisted, but her green eyes turned to a soft shade of jade, shot with confusion, before she dropped them. Awkwardly, she tried to remove her hand, but he caught it in his and she didn't resist. He could feel her pulse quicken and heard her breath catch.

She was feeling it, too, that same fucking reckless desire that simmered right beneath the surface, and desperately needed to be sated…

“Bella,” he whispered as he embraced her.

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