HIS BABY TO BEAR - TWELVE

C H A P T E R T W E L V E

"Girl, go grab yours!" Christine is taking care of the baby tonight! ", read the message, which included a dozen happy and winky faces.

Libby sighed as she tucked her phone back into her purse and searched for her keys. Despite knowing better, she'd returned Jerome to her small townhouse, which was sandwiched between much larger and more opulent homes. She listened as the key slid into place and the tumblers on the locks gradually undid themselves, and a familiar feeling overcame her for a brief moment.

The fact that Jerome opted to place his hand around her waist and lean down, gently kissing her earlobe, didn't help matters. She was shocked and jumped a little. It simply made him giggle darkly, filling her ears with his rich baritone, which she admired.

Libby laughed and said, "Knock it off."

She entered the house and tossed her purse on the chair close to the front entrance. She then stepped out of the shoes and exhaled a sigh of relief. She walked deeper inside the house without looking back, fully knowing that Jerome's eyes were probably glued to her ass with every step she took. And she absolutely adored it.

"Would you like a drink?" " she said into the corridor as she poured herself a glass of whiskey in the kitchen.

When Jerome appeared in the doorway, he added, "Whiskey, if you have it."

He'd forgotten his combat boots in the hall and was resting against the doorframe, hands stuffed into the pockets of his well-worn pants. His black T-shirt was snug around his big chest and nicely wrapped around his biceps. Despite her best efforts to look away from him, she couldn't help but notice the way his dog tags bulged against the front of his shirt and the cloth flattened over his abs.

Why couldn't he have gained twenty pounds and shaved his head or something?! Exasperated that she was falling into the same trap with that beast of a man as she had the last time, she thought.

She slid the drink over the counter at him and leaned against the counter herself, her back to Jerome and her gaze fixed on her backyard. Reid Andrew's red ball remained, but she didn't think Jerome would notice.

"Thank you, honey," I say.

"I think you should stop calling me that. "It's Libby now," Libby murmured, casting a sidelong glance at him.

"Libby is my favorite."

She chuckled, "Me too."

His bright blue eyes were fixed on her, and whenever she met his look, she felt like a fly caught in a honey trap. It was impossible to get out of it with any degree of skill. She bit her lower lip, putting the glass to her lips and taking a quick sip, trying to divert her attention away from all the other things she might have done with the time they were given instead of forcing small talk.

She hurriedly searched about the kitchen, making sure there was no evidence of the baby's presence. She didn't want to have that conversation with him. She was not going to pull him into this, no matter what occurred. The fact that they'd met at a filthy pub in Batangas of all places was a sad twist of fate, but she was determined not to see it as some kind of divine omen.

Libby felt he had a right to know his child, but she also knew it would only make things worse. For God's sake, she had no idea what his last name was, let alone anything else about him except that he slaughtered people for a career and had the most exquisite quads she had ever seen on a guy. That wasn't quite enough to start a new life on.

No, it would have been much better for everyone if she simply... forgot about him. She knew it was silly of her to kiss him at the darn bar, but she couldn't help herself. He had a way with her that she couldn't deny, and she listened to everything he said. She reacted whenever he kissed her. And, despite the fact that she knew she shouldn't have done it, she really desired that one night with him. Another memory to add to her vault, one that will keep her going through a lifetime of less interesting guys. Or, if they weren't good enough to be around Reid Andrew, no males at all.

Is he, however, good enough to be around him? a nefarious voice inquired, spitting uncertainty in its wake

The way he gazed at her made her believe that maybe...

"Is everything all right, Libby?"

" he inquired, placing his glass down and approaching her.

He encircled her in his arms, stood directly in front of her and hovering so close to her that their bodies were practically touching. She was desperate to reach out. Instead, she took another sip of her drink and gazed up at him, attempting to avoid the love-lost puppy expression she was sure she was wearing that night.

She smirked and answered, "Well, no."

"Yeah? What's to stop you? "

He was playing along with her, as seen by his sardonic grin. Maybe he was as perplexed as she was about everything, but for that one night, it didn't matter? He'd be sent on another mission, forgetting about that female he fucked twice, and she'd be able to flush him out of her system like a terrible virus. To her, that sounded about right.

"You haven't kissed me yet," she whispered as she pushed the glass away from her face.

"That's an oversight I can easily correct," Jerome replied as he dipped down to her level, tilting her chin forward.

There was no power in the kiss this time, simply love. Slowly and carefully, he traced the beautiful curvature of her lips with his tongue before sliding between them and continued the languid, gentle strokes. Libby purred, running her flat palms over his chest and stomach before reaching behind him and grasping his ass with far more vigor than she had anticipated. Jerome snatched her hands and yanked them away from her.

"Nuh-uh, honey,You're not going to rush me." He gave her that sardonic look that could only bode danger. "I have my plans with you, and I won't allow you meddle with them," he said.

"Plans? What are your plans? " she inquired, but her interrogation was stopped short when Jerome tossed her over his shoulder and walked out of the kitchen as if he'd found a pot of gold.

She truly wanted to be enraged with him. But for some reason, she couldn't stop giggling.

"Where do you think you're going to take me?" " she questioned, kicking her legs and laughing hysterically.

"Obviously to the bedroom," he murmured as he strided down the corridor, trying one door after the next.

When Libby realized where he was going, his palm had already closed around the knob leading to Reid Jerome's room.

"No! That's not the one! At the very end, the last one! " she yelled, and luckily, he let grip of the knob and walked toward the door she'd called out.

From the entryway, he virtually slammed the door shut and flung her down on her back on the bed. He was on her before she could take a breath, slowly kissing a trail down her neck and cleavage, trapping her beneath him.

"So. Isn't this where Miss Ellie Magtanggol snoozes? " He paused for a moment before continuing.

"Are you familiar with my surname?" Libby inquired, perplexed.

"I did my digging," he remarked nonchalantly as he collapsed next to her on her comfortable but old blankets.

"And what did you find?" says the narrator. Are there any skeletons I should be aware of? Maybe I stole a lollipop in kindergarten and that's why a gang of black men came to kill me. "

"Naw," Jerome chuckled, "I don't know nothing about that." "Though, now that I think about it, you do seem like a troublemaker."

"Oh yeah?" says the speaker. Why is that? "

"Well, I saw your Facebook page," says the narrator. Wasn't it true that you were a bit of a loose cannon in college? "

Jerome dodged the pillow she'd flung at him and caught it in mid-flight, easily hurling it back at her.

"Honey, I'm shooting the messenger." That is not how you should treat your guests."

"And I'm sure you know everything there is to know about how I should treat my visitors, hmm?"

"

Jerome remarked, "I could make an educated guess."

"OK, so you're familiar with my name." And you've seen my social media, which effectively means you know everything there is to know," she said, raising her hand to silence him. "I believe that is unjust. Jerome, I don't know anything about you."

"Tell me what do you want to know?" he inquired, sitting on on her bed and sprawled out as if he intended to stay there till his patience ran out.

""Is Jerome even your real name?" she said, launching into the first of a lengthy list of questions she'd been wanting to ask about her baby's father.

It was right up there with "Any family history of mental illness? What's the rate of cancer in your bloodline? Can I expect my son to start turning into a bear cub at random times?"

The irony of it all was overwhelming: sitting in her bedroom with her child's father, trying to figure out if his name was indeed his name and wondering how long it would take him to admit he was a werebear.

"It's Jerome Nicolas," he said.

"Nicolas? Irish? Mexican? Spanish?"

"It's truly Spanish. You won't be able to find me on Facebook either."

"Ah, an Instagram sort of man, huh?" Libby taunted, receiving a look from him that may have been both amusement and a burning desire to fuck her crazy.

For some reason, she was convinced he was a competent multitasker. He was capable of doing both.

"Did you know I was going to be there?" she inquired, unsure if she wanted to know.

She had no choice but to find out. If there was any risk, it would not just effect her, but also Reid Jerome. And she doubted she'd have an army of buff shifter commandos at her disposal whenever something strange happened.

Jerome shook his head, and the bad boy cockiness vanished, replaced by what she could only interpret as genuine confusion. "No, I didn't," I replied. When I saw you, I was there for no particular purpose. "I wasn't going to let that fucker hurt you," he said, balling his fist around the sheets.

Libby frowned and placed her hand on his. "Temperance, temperance."

She'd be lying if she said it wasn't a turn-on, knowing how quickly and powerfully he was impacted by anything that happened to her. It made her wonder whether things might have turned out differently if she hadn't been transferred to another team, if he'd stayed by her side the entire time. Perhaps he'd be living in Batangas with her, raising their young child together, adoring each other...

A lump formed in Libby's throat, which she struggled to swallow.

"It's a tiny world," he shrugged. "I suppose fate wants me to find you tonight."

Libby laughed, but he remained solemn, his enticing lips pressed together tightly. Libby remained silent, staring at him in awe.

Did he really mean it?

That man was really toying with her head. He cleared his throat and rolled back, his hands under his chin, to stare at the ceiling. His shirt pulled up just enough to reveal a portion of the tight, tucked V she remembered all too well. It was difficult to concentrate while he was nearby.

"Is there anything else?"

"What made you look me up?" "

"I was curious about who you were," he answered simply.

At the pit of her stomach, butterflies competed for dominance. There are so many questions and so little time.

*************************************************************************************

The buzzing of the doorbell startled Libby awake in the morning. She rolled over from one side to the other at first, smacking her nose into Jerome's chest. He was apparently clutching her with both arms, as if he was afraid she would sneak out on him in the middle of the night if he let go.

She allowed herself to enjoy his deep, musky aroma for a little period. He'd apparently removed his shirt, and he looked like a marble sculpture come to life on her bed.She was staring at him for a second too long when the obnoxious doorbell rang again. It pierced the folds of slumber that clouded her mind and dawned on her with the startling and uncomfortable realization that no one had ever rung her doorbell.

She scooted out of bed, grabbed her dressing gown, and threw it over her shoulders, thinking it would cover the fact that she was still wearing last night's dress. She virtually ran down the passage, praying that whatever was at the door wouldn't startle Jerome. At the same moment, a small voice counted the number of persons who could be on the other side of the door... and the count concluded at two.

She pushed open the door, and there stood Christine, Reid Andrew on her hip, extending his small hands out for her.

Shit.

"Mama!

" he shouted, and she instinctively snatched him from Christine's grasp.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" I brought bagels as well as a baby! Christine mentioned that you might have had some fun last night, so I decided to run over rather than have you do it! Sorry if I woke you up, but I have a hair appointment in half an hour and I need to get there. And Reid Andrew, didn't you miss his mother? " she cooed, taking one of Reid Andrew's hands as he was busy picking from Libby's jewelry.

"Thank you, Christine," she said flatly.

Libby barely caught every second word that Christine rattled off. Her mind worked frantically to figure out how she could possibly get Andrew out of the house before he saw Reid Andrew or heard Christine talking. Right then, Christine stopped her babbling and looked up, her big green eyes going wide as saucers and her mouth falling open a bit, staring at something behind Libby.

"What is it, Christine?" Libby asked, but the familiar feeling of heat on the back of her neck hit her with full force.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Who's this little guy?" Andrew asked, Reid Andrew letting go of her earring immediately and staring up at the tall hulk of a man with surprise.

Of course he was standing right behind her. Of course.

Shit.