Nashville Rebel. Sheri WhiteFeather
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She sat in the chaise longue next to him and greeted him with a simple “Hello.”
Idiot that she was, she stole a glance at his navel and the line of hair that disappeared into the waistband of his trunks. If he’d been naked, she never would have dared to look that low on his body. But for now, she took her fill. Or thrill. Or whatever.
Luckily, she’d worn shorts and sandals today. She didn’t feel out of place sitting by the pool. But that didn’t make her any less nervous about revealing her agenda.
Before she got the chance to start the conversation and spin it her way, he said, “I hope you came by to talk about extending the tour. I know it’s supposed to be over, but I was thinking we could add more dates.” He frowned into the sun. “I’m already going bonkers sitting around here and we’ve only been back for a few days.”
She frowned, too. Not at the sun, but at him. “I know how stir-crazy you get when you’re not on the road, but adding more dates is the last thing I’ve been thinking about.”
He grabbed his water and took a swig. After he swallowed a noisy gulp, he asked, “So what’s the deal, then? Why did you call this meeting? Am I in trouble? Is the insurance company threatening to raise my rates again?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.” She steadied her voice. But then she got antsy and just blurted it out. “I’m giving you my notice. I’m quitting so I can get a job with regular hours and less travel and have a baby.”
If the pavement had just opened up and swallowed him whole, he wouldn’t have looked more surprised. “Damn, really? You’re pregnant? By who?”
He sounded offended. Or annoyed. Or frustrated. But he always acted that way when she was dating someone. As reliant as he’d become on her, he got jealous when she gave her attention to someone else. So much so that he tended to butt heads with her lovers. Not that she’d had many men. She’d never been in a relationship that was worth a damn. Her last boyfriend, a record exec, had cheated on her with his twentysomething assistant.
“I’m not pregnant yet,” she replied. “But I plan to be.”
A muscle tightened in his jaw. “Did you and Cliff get back together? Are you going to marry that jerk?”
She shook her head. “Are you kidding? I’d never get back with him, not after the way he betrayed me. I’m not planning on having my baby with anyone. I’m going to be a single mom.”
He had a confused expression. “The last time I checked, it takes two to make a baby.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “I’m going to use a sperm bank.”
“You’re picking the guy out of a genetic lineup? Come on, Soph. That’s crazy.” He frowned again. “Besides, when did you get so maternal? I never knew you wanted kids.”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. And at my age, I can’t wait forever. The older a woman gets, the more steps she needs to take to ensure a healthy pregnancy.”
Tommy sat a bit more upright. “Have you cleared this with your doctor? You’re not at risk for what your mom had, are you?”
“There could be hereditary issues, but they can’t predict whether it would happen to me. Either way, my doctor assured me that they would closely monitor me for any signs of a problem. My mother didn’t report her symptoms when they first appeared. She wasn’t aware of how serious it was.”
“Yeah, but still. Maybe you should just forget the whole thing.”
“I can’t.” She craved the wonderment of being a mom. It was especially important since she’d never known her mother, and with her dad being gone a few years now, she missed having a family. Her grandpa had passed away a while ago, too. Sophie was all alone. “I’ll never feel complete if I don’t do this.”
He winced. “So you’re determined to go through with it?”
“Most definitely.” She wasn’t giving this up for anything. “I haven’t put any feelers out there for another job. I wanted to give you my notice first. But I know enough people in this industry to find something suitable.”
“You don’t have to stop working for me. I can get you set up in the management office. You can join Barbara’s team. I’m sure she would be happy to have you on board. She’s always singing your praises, going on about how you’re the only person who’s truly capable of handling me.”
“I certainly try.” As for Barbara, she was his business manager, and the poor woman had her work cut out for her, trying to get Tommy to follow her advice. But she stuck by him, was loyal to the core. Of course, Tommy had offered Barbara a lucrative deal to represent him, making him her one and only client.
“Are you interested?” he asked.
“Yes, actually, I am.” She would rather stay with his organization than start over somewhere new. But she had certain conditions if she was going to remain with him. “I’ll call Barbara and arrange a meeting with her. But I want the same pay and the same benefits I have now, with Monday-through-Friday hours. No overtime, no mandatory weekends and no gigs. I’m not attending any of your shows, not even the local ones.”
“Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “You say that now, but I know what a workaholic you are.”
“I mean it, Tommy. I’m not going to babysit you anymore.”
“All right, all right.” He held up his hands, Old West style, as if she was preparing to shoot him. “You can have whatever you want.” He lowered his hands. “I just don’t want you to go off and start working for someone else. It’s going to be tough to replace you, as it is. I need you, Soph.”
His words sent a jolt of heat through her veins. Damn, she hated it when he had that effect on her.
He raised his water bottle in a mock toast, his hazel eyes locking onto hers. “You’re my go-to girl.”
She forced herself to hold his gaze. The unwelcome heat was still attacking her body, but glancing away would be admitting defeat. She didn’t want him to know he was making her weak.
“You mean ‘woman,’” she said.
“What?”
“Go-to woman. I haven’t been a girl since you put that rubber snake down the front of my shirt.”
He burst into a reminiscent laugh. “You’re right—you’re all grown up now. Damn sexy, too.”
Well, hell. Could he make it any worse? Struggling to form a response, she tried a joke. “Yeah, and I’m going to be one hot mama, too.” She made a big, sweeping motion over her abdomen. “Just wait until you see me then.”
He kept staring at her. Only now he was looking at her as if she was a specimen under a microscope—a pretty little organism he didn’t quite understand.
“I’ve never touched a pregnant woman’s stomach before,” he said. “When the kid is kicking, will you let me feel it?”
The heat intensified, deep in her bones. “After your recent baby scare, I’d think you’d be more shy around pregnant women.”
He shifted in his chair. “I’m just lucky they were already able to do a paternity test.”
“Yes, you got lucky.” Kara wasn’t due for four more months, but there was no reason to wait for the baby to be born. They’d agreed on a NIPP, a noninvasive prenatal paternity test, where their blood had been collected to do a DNA profile on the fetus. They’d done it just nine weeks into her pregnancy. Tommy’s brother, Brandon, had suggested the procedure. He was Tommy’s attorney. Overall, everything had been kept quiet. Kara hadn’t gone to the press, so Tommy had dodged that bullet, too.
He tugged a hand through his hair. “I’m just glad that poor kid didn’t get stuck with me being its dad.