Page 21 of The Plan

The shaggy brother reached out and patted her on the head. “Don’t worry, Ronniekins, we won’t let him thrash your precious Georgie. I promise. Now, specifics. When do I get to be an uncle?”

“Around the first of April. I think. I need to go to the doctor for sure. I’m around twelve weeks, I think.”

“You need to go to the doctor very, very soon. Especially if you are already twelve weeks,” Scooby said. “I can take you today. I’ll call a friend I have at BCGH.”

“Now, when is the wedding?” Shaggy asked, a pointed look at George that told George while he might look like a clown, Shaggy wasn’t a pushover at all. “And are you seriously considering moving in with mom and dad? I so don’t recommend that.”

Scooby and Snarly just waited. Well, Scooby waited. Snarly snarled.

“No. She’s moving in with me. I live in the largest craftsman on Second Street. Tan with green shutters. I just…need to get some updates made to it fast. My brothers and I are painting this weekend, too. I was going to take Veronica to stay with my parents then.”

“Oh, you were, were you?” Veronica turned a glare in his direction. “And just what have I told you about making decisions for me, Georgie?”

“Well, you have to move, you don’t want to move in with your parents, and you can’t be in our house while there are paint fumes. But…your brothers are right here, now. They can help get your things to our place. We’ll put them in the garage, until my brothers and I get the rooms painted. I was going to go over paint colors with you today. We need to get the nursery ready. There are six bedrooms we can choose from. All the bedrooms are on the same floor, too. There’s one right next to ours…”

“Ours?”

George just blinked at her and grinned. Why hide it? That was exactly where he wanted her, as soon as he could get her there. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers again, ignoring her brothers for a moment. Well…kissing her again was a taunt. He understood that. “Of course. Where else would the other half of my soul belong?”

16

She’d burstinto tears as soon as he’d said it. Like a great big weeny. That hadn’t gone over well with her brothers at all. But…George had no business saying horrible things like that. Not when he didn’t mean them.

All Ronnie had ever wanted was to feel… like she mattered… again. She hadn’t felt that way after they’d lost her sister. She definitely hadn’t felt like that after she’d did the naughty with her boss that night.

But if he meant it…

Maybe that would change everything.

Still, a smart girl didn’t let her guard down with a man like Gorgeous Georgie Hiller. Those Gorgeous Hiller brothers…were dangerous to a woman’s sanity. No denying that.

Ronnie put her bag in the little cabinet where she had always put it, fighting the conflicting sensations washing over her.

Everything felt both achingly familiar and completely foreign, like walking into a dream where all the furniture had been shifted two inches to the left. It had yesterday, too. She suspected it would for a few days.

Why was she here again? Hadn’t she made a resolution here? She’d told herself the night before, after he’d finally dropped her off at her apartment like she’d insisted—she wasn’t going to let him confuse her like this.

Yet it wasn’t even 9:30 a.m. and she was definitely confused. Oh, that man. What was it about that man that did this to her specifically?

Her desk chair had been replaced with something that was now sinfully comfortable. She’d confirmed that the day before. The walls were a rich, warm gray instead of beige. Everything looked so polished and professional now—except for that conference room door that still didn't quite close right.

That door. Her heart skipped as memories flooded back—George's hands in her hair, the heat of his mouth on her neck, papers scattered across the floor…Oh, boy. The hormones were real.

She’d only had sex one time. One time. And that was all she could remember about this place, even after she’d worked there for twenty long months? That man had done something to her. He’d reprogrammed her or something. That was the only explanation.

His alien seed was potent. No denying that.

"Well. Here I am." Twelve weeks, six days. And she was just supposed to pick up right where she left off? Even her old plant was hanging on—though she might have returned just in time.

"I've been watering it,” someone said behind her. Ronnie turned to find Giavonna, looking like a young goddess with perfect hair and makeup. Even in jeans and a T-shirt. She looked far older, more sophisticated than her nineteen years. This one had been born with an old soul, no denying that. "Georgie isn't very good with plants. I hope he's better with babies. He did okay when Greer was born, I think. But I was five then, how should I know? How do you feel today?"

"A bit like an alien has taken over my life, actually." Two aliens, if she counted George's caveman impression this morning. Who just picks a crying woman up and puts her in his truck like that?

"The baby or my brother?"

"I'll get back to you on that." The man was insane—no other word for how he had faced down her brothers before putting her in his truck. Murdoch had especially had that super-overprotective look on his beautiful face. And Cam—he had done everything he possibly could to ruffle George’s beautiful feathers.

Only Anthony had been any kind of voice of reason at all, asking about her health and any concerns she had noticed. He’d been so focused on her. He was such a sweetheart, that one.

---