Page 14 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

That was the scenario she had imagined. She had fantasized about casually bumping into the baby’s father one day, perhaps on a bustling street, and nonchalantly moving forward with her life, independent and self-assured.

But reality had dealt her a far more intricate hand. The man in question was not just an anonymous figure; he was noneother than her father’s most formidable business rival, the very antagonist of Lockwood Inc. since assuming control of his own father’s company.

The most unexpected part of the day, however, had been his reaction to the news. He had been more supportive and positive than she had imagined, and her heart warmed at the memory.

The mere thought of him made her knees tremble. She could have sworn she felt a hint of drool forming at the corner of her mouth when she saw him dominating the entrance, his broad back filling the space, confidently spread out in the leather chair.

She hadn’t remembered who he was at that moment, trying to place where she had seen him before. And then he’d uttered those words: ‘sweet girl’, just as he’d called her that night, and a current of electricity had passed through her body. There had been something so erotic about the way he’d whispered those little words in her ear. He’d taken her so many times in so many different ways that it hadn’t occurred to her how odd a nickname it was. It made her feel like he appreciated her body, like she was something precious, and she absolutely loved it.

His arms had been hidden by his suit at the meeting, but she knew exactly how those muscles felt beneath her hands. And she knew perfectly well how strong they were because he’d held her up against the shower wall and pummeled into her relentlessly.

When she’d seen his eyes up close and suddenly remembered how those same pools of chocolate had looked up at her from between her thighs—so heavy with lust that she could have come just from looking at him.

Then the rich, inviting aroma of her father’s coffee had wafted through the air. Normally, it would have been a comfort, a fragrant reminder of cozy mornings spent in the kitchen. But earlier today, that familiar scent had triggered a wave of nausea that had washed over her like a cold wave crashing onto the shore, just as it had every day that week. It was particularly awfulbecause Allison absolutely lived for coffee—she had practically sworn allegiance to the stuff since her college days.

The discomfort had swiftly reminded her that she couldn’t just pounce on Angelo, no matter how strong the urge, because he was herfather’s enemy.

Yeah, my luck is more rotten than a bowl of cheese left out in the heat for a month.

Once she’d returned to her father’s office, Allison had demanded to work from home. She was not going to risk another mishap like the one she’d just suffered through, nor was she excited to keep throwing up in the office’s restroom. It was disgusting.

Surprisingly enough, her father had conceded. She couldn’t wait to set up her home office and actually start working. But that would have to wait until one of her brothers could help her out.

Allison now sat in her living room, sunlight streaming through the windows, casting a warm glow on the cozy space. It was a quiet afternoon, the kind she loved—excluding the chaos of her thoughts. That morning at the supermarket felt like a lifetime ago, although only a few days had passed since then. But the resolve she had found still buzzed within her. As she settled into the soft embrace of the couch, she closed her eyes, imagining a future that was entirely her own.

Just as Allison was about to drift off, the image of Angelo’s suggestion to have some coffee flashed in her mind, and another bout of nausea hit her, although this time it was for a different reason. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her stomach to settle. The thought of seeing him again, discussing the future, sent her heart racing.

Will he be supportive?

Will he freak out?

What if he doesn’t want anything to do with me or the baby?

All of those questions churned in her mind, her stomach following suit. The uncertainty of tomorrow’s meeting gnawed at her like a persistent itch she couldn’t scratch. “Why did I agree to this?” she murmured to herself, feeling a mix of excitement and dread. “What am I even going to say?”

She rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling, her thoughts spiraling. “What if he thinks I’m crazy for wanting to keep the baby? What if he tells me I’m making a huge mistake?” The weight of the world seemed to rest on her shoulders, and for a moment, she considered calling it all off.

“Maybe I should just ghost him,” she said aloud, trying to convince herself. “Pretend I never met him, never got pregnant. Live my life.” But deep down, she knew that was wishful thinking. The reality was already too far along to ignore.

Angelo had been a complete stranger just a few weeks ago. The memory of that night flickered in her mind like an old film reel: laughter, drinks flowing, a spark igniting between them. But the haze of that evening had faded, leaving behind the stark truth that they were now connected in a way she had never anticipated.

“Great,” she groaned, throwing her arm over her eyes in frustration. “This was supposed to be a simple, carefree moment in my life, not a script for a dramatic soap opera.”

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, and she grabbed it, hoping for a distraction. It was a text from Johnathan, checking in to see how she was feeling. She hesitated for a moment, contemplating her response.

Should I tell him about the nausea? Or will he just freak out again?

Before she could decide, another wave of nausea hit, more intense this time. She flung her phone aside and sat up, taking deep breaths as she tried to steady herself. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a mom,” she whispered.

After a few moments of silence, she let out a shaky breath, closing her eyes once more. She tried to calm her racing thoughts, envisioning the meeting with Angelo going smoothly. Maybe he’d surprise her. Maybe he’d be thrilled about the baby, eager to dive into parenthood together.

But as her mind danced between possibilities, doubt crept back in. “What if he panics? What if he walks away?” she whispered, her heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty.

With her mind spinning, she finally succumbed to exhaustion, drifting into a restless sleep.

Allison was beginning to lose track of time.

She had intended to take a quick power nap, but she woke up the next morning feeling disoriented, as if she had been drugged and transported into a strange room, much like a character from a novel or movie.

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