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The man had seemed so innocent in the bar—okay, not innocent, per say. He’d been hot, hard, and possessed a butt that I wanted to bite like the last chocolate chip cookie in my stash.
He’d also skipped out of town faster than a villain in a B movie, leaving me woefully unsatisfied. I’d chalked the whole incident up to a bad night stand and moved on with my life.
That was before the news of a failed IUD. Before the plus sign. Before Jordan showed back up determined to make that night up to me.
I didn’t want a baby or a payday or a sexy, stubborn man in my life. I wanted to go back in time and pretend none of it had happened.
Unfortunately, my life had become all about that plus sign . . . and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
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