Unplanned Play
An accidental pregnancy, pro football, romance
The itinerary for girls' weekend in Las Vegas was simple. Gamble. Get drunk. Wear a little black dress that screamed "newly single and ready to make bad decisions."
That bad—yet oh so very good decision—came when Maddox Gallagher walked into the bar.
In my defense, it was hard to resist the younger football player. Between the dimple in his cheek and the way he held me when we danced, I was a goner. Add in the fact that he was celebrating a championship trophy and I was toasting to no longer being married, we were a match made in one-night-of-fun heaven.
But what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?
Whoever said that was a liar.
Because tell me why my one-night stand is now walking into my bakery, bound and determined to turn our one night into something more.
And why did I bring home a souvenir that won't get here for nine months and also not have a return policy?
This isn't how the new chapter of my life was supposed to start. I wanted to be my own person.
Own the bakery I've always dreamed of.
Travel.
Date and see what the world had to offer.
Not fight off feelings for the football player who's turning my world upside down and painting a nursery in the process, wondering if he's really my forever.
Because he, and this baby, might've been unplanned, but I'm now wondering if this is exactly what the itinerary was supposed to be all along.
Unexpected Shot
An enemies to lovers, marriage of convenience, romance
Being a professional golfer has always been my dream. But there are parts of the job I hate.
Interviews. Tournaments that make me wear skirts. Being nice to Beau Devereaux.
I hate that one—and him—the most.
Since we were kids, he's had a special way of getting under my skin. As adults, it’s only gotten worse.
My best friend's brother will always be the most infuriating man on the planet in his bright, tight, and outlandish golf shirts and his stupid beard covering his annoyingly chiseled jaw.
Which is why it’s my worst nightmare that I’m paired with him for a golf tournament in Las Vegas. But I'll do it if it means I get my career back on track after my injury.
Good PR can't hurt, right?
“Shelby LeBlanc, Beau Devereaux get in fight on 16th green.”
“Did Shelby LeBlanc and Beau Devereaux get married in Vegas?”
Yes, we did.
And yes, we did.
I don't want to stay married, but I said I wanted good PR, and somehow this is giving it to us.
It's fine. This marriage isn't for love. It's for our careers.
Except the looks he gives me now are filled with heat, not disgust. The childhood nickname he calls me doesn't have the same bite. And seeing him shirtless around the house? A woman is only so strong.
Now I'm starting to hate how much this feels right.
Because this marriage might've been unexpected, but now I'm wondering if Beau and I were always meant to be.