Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
A thought strikes me as Jake helps me out of the car with one hand and holds Walker’s carrier in the other. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to keep this a secret like you said,” I whisper. “From our friends, I mean.”
Jake glances around, then grimaces a little. “I thought about that after we talked,” he admits. “I thought maybe I was just being arrogant, though. But it does look like plenty of people are recognizing me and wondering what I’m doing with a baby carrier.”
“You didn’t think people would find it interesting that a hot NHL star suddenly shows up carrying a baby?”
“You think I’m hot?” he asks, grinning.
I roll my eyes but smile. “Let’s just go get this stupid ring.”
He puts a hand on the small of my back and guides me through the crowd. It’s not hard, considering people are stopping to stare at him. At us. I think I see envy in a few faces, and I try not to let that boost my ego. We’re just pretending, for starters.
“Jake, can I get a picture?” a guy asks.
“Sorry, not a good time,” Jake says.
“Is that your girlfriend?” a voice asks from the growing crowd.
The group of people staring at us is getting big enough that people are stopping, just because that’s what people do when they see a spontaneous crowd forming. I hear a growing murmur of whispers and some raised voices. I catch words like “NHL”, “star”, “Jake”, “girlfriend”, “baby”, and “fiancée”.
“Yeah,” I say as he guides me to the front doors of Tiffany’s flagship location in Manhattan. “I think the secret might already be out.” It’s easy to forget how famous Jake is. Even though I’ve gone to his games before and seen him within crowds of thousands. I hardly ever walk around with him or Jesse outside Frosty Harbor. Everybody back home is so used to the guys that they hardly get extra attention.
The store is on a corner, and two men in dark suits are out front. They open the doors for us and seem to ward off anyone who tries to follow us inside.
“Wow,” I say once we’re inside. “You created quite the flash mob back there”
“Must be the baby,” Jake says. “People love babies and a good scandal.”
“We’re hardly a scandal,” I say, even though I’m not quite sure I’m correct. But my voice trails off as I take in the store. The showroom feels like the grand hall of a palace. Huge windows run down either wall, and glass showcases full of glistening jewelry are on display as far as I can see.
“Wow,” I breathe. “Where is everybody?”
Outside, there was an endless sea of people. Here, it’s like an oasis from the flood of humanity. There’s nobody except a single woman in a sleek black dress and perfectly straight brown hair coming our way.
“Oh, yeah,” Jake says. “I had this genius idea. I booked out the showroom so we could get to look in private. You know, keep things inconspicuous. Keep the secret,” he adds, grin widening.
I laugh. “Well, it was a good thought.” I look behind us as the crowd of people trying to tiptoe to look past the guys watching the door. “But I’m pretty sure everybody out there is putting two and two together.”
“No big deal,” Jake says. “We’ll figure it out. We’re both pretty good on our feet. Then again, we weren’t so bad when we got off our feet together, either.”
A hot blush runs up my cheeks. “Jake,” I say sternly.
“What?” he asks. “It’s true. We always had a good spark. Maybe in another life, we could’ve been really good together.”
“In another life,” I agree distantly.
“Welcome to Tiffany’s,” the woman says. It took her an almost comical amount of time to reach us because the showroom is so huge. She’s even slightly out of breath. “Follow me, please.”
I’m a little confused because she’s leading us straight past all the showroom displays. We reach an elegant set of doors at the back, through wood-paneled halls, through another room, and into a cozy little lounge area. “Please, make yourselves comfortable. Would the baby like anything to drink?”
Is this lady serious? What does she think she’ll be able to whip up for a two-month-old baby? But I give her another look and decide she’s barely twenty. She may just not know much about babies.
“Milk,” Jake says. “On the rocks.”
The woman nods and starts to leave. “That was a joke,” he says quickly. “Pretty sure he’s still getting it straight from the tap.”
The woman and I both give Jake a look. He holds up his hands defensively. “Sorry. Bad jokes. I’ll just be quiet now.”
I bite back a smile.
“Anything for you two?” she asks us.
“Whiskey sour,” Jake says. “She’ll have, uh, what will she have?” Jake says, looking my way.