Playing by the Baby Rules. Michelle Celmer

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      Groupies. Ugh.

      “The one and only,” Marisa said, holding back a groan as she rang up her purchase.

      The woman jabbed her friend and they both giggled. “I told you it was him! He’s so cute!”

      Marisa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Would you like a bottle of essential oil or a scented candle to go with that?”

      “I’ve seen you at the bar when his band plays,” the other girl said. “You’re always up front. Is he like, your boyfriend?”

      “Well, we really shouldn’t say anything….” Lucy trailed off cryptically, nudging Marisa with her elbow. “It’s not official yet.”

      “We won’t tell anyone.” The girl buying the bra turned to her friend. “Will we?”

      Her friend shook her head enthusiastically. “Oh no, we won’t tell a soul. Promise.”

      “Well, I guess if you promise not to tell…” Lucy leaned forward, lowering her voice. “They’re engaged. They’re planning a spring wedding.”

      “Really?” Bra-girl asked, looking heartbroken. “You’re so lucky. He is so hot!”

      Marisa smiled at the girls. “I’ll be sure to tell him two of his biggest fans were in today. He’ll appreciate the compliments.” Not. Despite his rising popularity, he considered himself the same old Jake. The hero-worship garbage made him squirm.

      “Maybe you could introduce us sometime,” Bra-girl piped up. “We could, like, get his autograph or something.”

      “How about a lock of his hair,” Lucy muttered under her breath.

      Marisa bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “I’m sure we could arrange that,” she said as she wrapped the bra in pink tissue paper and slipped it into a bag. “Come again, ladies.”

      As they walked away giggling, Lucy made a sound of disgust. “God, I detest groupies. They are fun to mess with though.”

      “I know, but I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

      “What’s the harm? It’s all in good fun. Now, back to this sex thing—”

      “No.” Marisa shook her head. “We’re definitely not getting back to the sex thing.”

      “Aw, come on—”

      “No. I’ll be back in a little while.” She walked to the door and yanked it open. A suffocating wall of humidity and heat enveloped her. “Call me on my cell if you get swamped.”

      “Think about it,” Lucy called after her. “Jake would be perfect!”

      Flinging herself out the door, Marisa saw only a flash of color before promptly colliding face first into a very wide and very solid male chest.

      “Whoa!” Jake caught her arm. “What’s the rush.”

      The door swung shut, bumping her on the behind and knocking her even farther into him. She braced her hands against his chest to steady herself, instantly aware of the play of muscles beneath the sweat-moistened cotton shirt, the heat radiating from his skin. The sudden images racing through her mind, like exactly what she and Jake would have to do to make a baby, sent a funny little shiver down her spine. She never thought about stuff like that—least of all with Jake. It was all Lucy’s fault for suggesting that she and Jake should—

      No, they definitely shouldn’t.

      “What am I perfect for?” he asked.

      He’d heard that? “Um…”

      Jake stood, fingers still clasped firmly around her arm. His hands were large and strong but exceedingly gentle, his fingers long and graceful. It took a full five seconds to register the heat seeping through her blouse where he grasped her, and the hum of sensation traveling up her arm. She had to force herself not to jerk away.

      “Earth to Marisa. You okay?”

      She realized they were just standing there on the sidewalk, interrupting the heavy flow of afternoon foot traffic. Aware, too, that more than her arm had begun to tingle now, she gently extracted herself from his grasp. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

      “What am I perfect for?” he asked again as they started down Main Street on foot toward the park.

      “It was nothing.” Sweat began to soak the underside of her bra. It had to be about a million degrees out, which still didn’t account for the heat creeping up into her face. There was no doubt in Marisa’s mind, Lucy had done this on purpose. If she had just kept her mouth shut—

      “After seventeen years, don’t you think I can tell when you’re lying.” Jake poked her playfully. “Come on, tell me.”

      She shook her head. “You don’t want to know.”

      “Sure I do.”

      “Trust me, you don’t.”

      “Marisa, are you blushing?”

      Jeez, couldn’t he just drop it? “We should hurry, before someone gets our favorite spot.” She walked faster, until she was almost jogging. Considering he was nearly a foot taller, he didn’t have any trouble keeping up, and she was in danger of collapsing from heat-stroke.

      “I’m not going to stop asking, so you might as well spill it.”

      “I can’t.”

      He batted obscenely long lashes at her—lashes any woman would kill for. “Please?”

      “Nope.”

      “Pretty please? With sugar on top?” He was grinning down at her, his expression complete mischief. She had no doubt that he would relentlessly nag and harass her until she gave in.

      He nudged her again. “C’mon, tell me. What am I perfect for?”

      “Sex, Jake,” she blurted out. “She thinks you’re perfect for sex.”

      Two

      Sex?

      Jake walked beside Marisa to the park in stunned silence. Lucy thought he would be perfect for sex? That was…whoa. He wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to respond. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but Marisa knew he didn’t do relationships. Unless a relationship wasn’t what Lucy had in mind.

      “I warned you,” Marisa said, her cheeks two hot pink smudges against a smooth olive complexion. “But you just had to know.”

      She’d warned him, and as usual, she was right. Once again he had let curiosity get the best of him. One of these days he would learn not to stick his nose into other people’s business. How many times as a child had his curious nature gotten him several sound whacks from the old man’s belt, or a СКАЧАТЬ