Blindsided by Ava Ashley

Author:Ava Ashley [Ashley, Ava]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: single mom, alpha male, pregnancy, hea, fake fiancée, bad boy, sports, action and adventure, secret baby romance, crime, new adult, football, twin brothers, humor, standalone, comedy, politician, marriage of convenience, Suspense, psychological
Publisher: Ava Ashley
Published: 2017-03-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Sloane

God is bowling. At least, that’s what it sounds like as I press my freckled nose up against the glass of the loft window and watch frantic pedestrians dance across L Street, searching for a dry spot in one of the odd shops that dot the street. The number seven from Lennox’s old jersey reflects back at me in the glass. It was the only thing in the loft that didn’t feel constricting. Hopefully, my roomie wouldn’t mind the borrow.

It wasn’t God bowling, of course. I mentally flip through the Rolodex of information in my head, trying to remember the old story.

Henry Hudson! That’s it! Henry Hudson and the Catskill gnomes. Supposedly, explorer Henry Hudson and his men had stumbled upon the gnomes high in the Catskill Mountains. The gnomes plied the men with drink and ninepins, the echoing sound of their games echoing down from the peaks and across the valleys. Rumor had it that every time the thunder rumbles in the sky, it’s good old Henry and the gnomes, at it again, bowling and drinking.

Ugh! What I wouldn’t give for an ice-cold beer right about now.

And pizza. Oh, god, yes. A hot, piping slice of Zelda’s gourmet pie would be perfection right about now.

Lightning arcs across the sky, lighting up the dark grey sky like it was noon on a sunny day in June. Then came the crack of thunder and the sky opens up, dumping buckets of rain on the poor waiter at The Buckhorn Grill across the street as he rushes to collapse the patio umbrella before the gusting wind picks them up and carries them off for parts unknown. His purple spiked hair quickly succumbs to the insistent rain, transitioning from spike to splat as it plasters against his pale forehead with the moisture. A gust washes a wall of water into the glass, causing me to jump back. The first, fat wet drops had splatted ineffectually against the panes of the loft window a few hours ago. Now, you could hardly see out of the glass.

The front door suddenly bangs open. I let loose a yelp of surprise.

“Lennox!” He stands on the threshold, a welling pool of rainwater collecting at his feet. I rush forward to help. “Omigosh! Let me grab you a towel!”

I have to admit I’d been thinking about him all day, and not just because I’d spent the better part of the day trying to write an in-depth biographical article on him. According to Emma, women in the second trimester often experienced a surge in desire and extra blood flow that made for insane sensitivity in areas that hungered for Lennox’s expert touch. I know we had an agreement to keep things...untangled...but, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold myself in check.

I take the box and the bag from his hand in exchange for the towel. It’s only when I set the large white box on the counter that I notice the name on the box. Zelda’s.

“You...you stopped in this weather? To pick up Zelda’s?”

Lennox rubs at his wet hair agitatedly.

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