Jill found herself wanting nothing more than to tell them all to leave. And then she wanted to pick up the phone and call that woman and tell her she didn’t deserve to win any ribbons at the next county fair if she couldn’t even get one simple chili recipe right.
Breathe, Jill, breathe .
Derrick was right. She had the baby blues, and she had them bad. All of this negative energy was wearing her out. Since when did she care what Chelsey wore or if everybody looked amazing except for her? She wasn’t vain like her mother and sister. She didn’t have to look perfect every second of the day. For the umpteenth time in the past week, she found herself wanting to cry, which only served to make her want to cry even more because she wasn’t a crier by nature. Her hormones were definitely out of control and she didn’t like it one bit.
Jill turned away to head back to her room when suddenly Ryan’s cry pierced her eardrums. She looked over her shoulder at Derrick. “Your baby is crying. I’m going back to bed.”
Chapter Nine
Thomas stood near the rose garden. Tonight he wore a tuxedo and the moonlight glistened off of his hair and played with the angles of his face, throwing shadows across a nicely shaped jaw and long straight nose.
Across the way, Derrick sat poolside in nothing but a pair of colorful board shorts. His fingers plowed through thick wet hair, sprinkling droplets of water over a bronzed chest and well-worked biceps.
Both men looked Jill’s way as she walked toward them, hips swaying.
“She’s beautiful,” Thomas said.
“Yes,” Derrick agreed. “And she’s all mine. You blew it, buster.”
Jill’s eyes popped open. She stared up at the ceiling. What was wrong with her? She hardly knew Derrick and yet she couldn’t shut her eyes without dreaming about him. Not once, but twice!
Her heart hammered against her chest as she realized she was absolutely, certifiably losing her mind. There was no other explanation. Derrick wasn’t her type. She wasn’t attracted to men with deeply tanned bodies and big muscles. Flashing white teeth and sparkling eyes that winked with mischief were not her cup of tea. No sirree. She liked professional men who took life a little more seriously. She preferred a man in a suit who used his brains more than his brawns.
The clock on her nightstand read three o’clock.
She looked back at the ceiling before giving the clock a second look. No way was it three o’clock. It was closer to nine o’clock in the morning the last time she had awakened to the sounds of everybody partying in her kitchen. If it was three o’clock, that would mean she’d slept six hours straight. She’d never taken a six hour nap in her life. Trying not to panic, she flipped off the covers, slid her legs over the side of the bed, slipped her feet inside her big pink slippers, and headed for the door. She listened for a moment.
Nothing. Not a sound.
Ryan. Where was Ryan ?
She hadn’t spent this many hours away from him since he’d been born. It was no use. Panic hit her like lightning, swooshing through her insides as she shot through the door and ran to the family room. Where was everyone ?
She ran to the baby’s room. Empty.
She ran to the kitchen and saw a note written in cursive.
Took Ryan for a stroll to the park. Hope you don’t mind.
—D
Derrick had taken her baby out of her apartment.
How could he ?
White-hot flames shot up from the tips of her toes, searing and blistering.
She ran to her bedroom and shook her feet until one slipper flew across the room. The other slipper disappeared under the bed. She shuffled through her closet until she found a pair of tennis shoes and quickly jammed them onto her feet. A glimpse at the mirror above her dresser caused her to make a quick trip to the bathroom where she splashed water on her face, brushed her teeth, and combed her hair back into a ponytail.
The last thing she did before running out the door was
Breathe, Jill, breathe .
Derrick was right. She had the baby blues, and she had them bad. All of this negative energy was wearing her out. Since when did she care what Chelsey wore or if everybody looked amazing except for her? She wasn’t vain like her mother and sister. She didn’t have to look perfect every second of the day. For the umpteenth time in the past week, she found herself wanting to cry, which only served to make her want to cry even more because she wasn’t a crier by nature. Her hormones were definitely out of control and she didn’t like it one bit.
Jill turned away to head back to her room when suddenly Ryan’s cry pierced her eardrums. She looked over her shoulder at Derrick. “Your baby is crying. I’m going back to bed.”
Chapter Nine
Thomas stood near the rose garden. Tonight he wore a tuxedo and the moonlight glistened off of his hair and played with the angles of his face, throwing shadows across a nicely shaped jaw and long straight nose.
Across the way, Derrick sat poolside in nothing but a pair of colorful board shorts. His fingers plowed through thick wet hair, sprinkling droplets of water over a bronzed chest and well-worked biceps.
Both men looked Jill’s way as she walked toward them, hips swaying.
“She’s beautiful,” Thomas said.
“Yes,” Derrick agreed. “And she’s all mine. You blew it, buster.”
Jill’s eyes popped open. She stared up at the ceiling. What was wrong with her? She hardly knew Derrick and yet she couldn’t shut her eyes without dreaming about him. Not once, but twice!
Her heart hammered against her chest as she realized she was absolutely, certifiably losing her mind. There was no other explanation. Derrick wasn’t her type. She wasn’t attracted to men with deeply tanned bodies and big muscles. Flashing white teeth and sparkling eyes that winked with mischief were not her cup of tea. No sirree. She liked professional men who took life a little more seriously. She preferred a man in a suit who used his brains more than his brawns.
The clock on her nightstand read three o’clock.
She looked back at the ceiling before giving the clock a second look. No way was it three o’clock. It was closer to nine o’clock in the morning the last time she had awakened to the sounds of everybody partying in her kitchen. If it was three o’clock, that would mean she’d slept six hours straight. She’d never taken a six hour nap in her life. Trying not to panic, she flipped off the covers, slid her legs over the side of the bed, slipped her feet inside her big pink slippers, and headed for the door. She listened for a moment.
Nothing. Not a sound.
Ryan. Where was Ryan ?
She hadn’t spent this many hours away from him since he’d been born. It was no use. Panic hit her like lightning, swooshing through her insides as she shot through the door and ran to the family room. Where was everyone ?
She ran to the baby’s room. Empty.
She ran to the kitchen and saw a note written in cursive.
Took Ryan for a stroll to the park. Hope you don’t mind.
—D
Derrick had taken her baby out of her apartment.
How could he ?
White-hot flames shot up from the tips of her toes, searing and blistering.
She ran to her bedroom and shook her feet until one slipper flew across the room. The other slipper disappeared under the bed. She shuffled through her closet until she found a pair of tennis shoes and quickly jammed them onto her feet. A glimpse at the mirror above her dresser caused her to make a quick trip to the bathroom where she splashed water on her face, brushed her teeth, and combed her hair back into a ponytail.
The last thing she did before running out the door was
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