The Next Mrs. Parrish: A Novel by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Harper
Published: 2017-10-17T04:00:00+00:00

Thirty-Five

Tonight was the night. Amber was now ten weeks pregnant and couldn’t hide it much longer. Jackson thought she was on the pill, and she’d even made sure to get a prescription and take a pill out of the dispenser each day so he wouldn’t be suspicious. Then she’d flush it. The only medication she was taking was Clomid, for fertility. She probably didn’t need it, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She needed to get pregnant before he tired of her. She had been a little worried about twins, but then she figured, if one was good, two would be even better.

She’d hoped to find out the sex at the last appointment, but it was apparently still too soon. With the computer skills she’d honed in months of night classes, she’d been able to doctor the image from the ultrasound, so she’d tell him it was a boy. By the time they were married, if she ended up having a girl, it would be too late for him to do anything about it anyway.

She’d gone to Babesta earlier in the day and bought a bib—“Daddy’s little boy”—that she planned to give him tonight after they made love. Then he’d finally leave Daphne, and she could drop the facade and stop pretending to be her friend. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Daphne’s face when she found out that Amber was pregnant. It would be almost as delicious as telling Bella she wouldn’t be the youngest anymore. Move over, baby, you’re old news now.

Once she was Mrs. Parrish, those two brats were on borrowed time. They could go to community college as far as she was concerned. But she was getting ahead of herself; first, she had to convince Jackson to leave them.

* * *

When Jackson arrived at the apartment, Amber was wearing a black leather corset and collar. Daphne had complained to her on a recent night out that Jackson’s tastes were becoming more unconventional. When she’d pressed for more details, the prude had turned red and mentioned something about restraints. Amber had decided to test the waters, and what she’d found was that Jackson was craving more adventure in the sack. She’d gladly given it to him, and together they’d scoured a few online stores and ordered all sorts of interesting sex toys. She encouraged him to push the limits, was ready to do whatever she had to, to make him compare Daphne unfavorably to her. She kept all their toys in a drawer in the guest room, half hoping Daphne might snoop when she was there and Amber could have a nice laugh at her expense. But Daphne never mentioned anything to her.

“That was amazing.” She nuzzled closer to him. “If I were Daphne, I’d never let you out of my bed.” She bit his earlobe.

“I don’t want to talk about Daphne,” he whispered.

She giggled. “She likes to talk about you.”

He sat up, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing. Just little wifely complaints. No big deal.

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