Page 38 of Reckless Encore

“Don’t even start.” He grabbed the back of Blake’s shirt and tugged. “If Allie catches you in here, we’re both dead.”

“Not possible. That woman loves me.”

“I assure you, after she finds out what you’re doing, she is going to love you a whole lot less.”

“My Allie will understand.” Blake leaned forward and placed his finger on the baby’s nose. “So cute.”

“Your Allieis going to rip my fucking balls off with her teeth.”

Blake chuckled. “Then I better pick a really awesome name… I don’t think something mainstream is going to suit. She doesn’t look like a Katie or a Sarah. She needs something with pizazz. Something that says, ‘Wow, I’m fucking awesome.’”

“Blake.” Mitch lowered his voice. “Get the fuck out of here before you get us both killed.”

His ignorant friend waved him away. “Give me a minute.”

Alana whimpered in her sleep, the sound an ominous warning.

He tugged Blake’s shirt again and again, only succeeding at being ignored.

“She doesn’t look like an Emily.” Blake straightened and tapped his chin in contemplation. “And I want something with meaning. Something that marks her momentous birth.”

“Blake, you can’t name my kid.”

“What?” His friend swung around. “You can’t go back on your promise. I won fair and square.”

“There was no goddamn bet, and once you sober up, you’ll realize that.” Mitch wiped a hand down his face. “Until then, you should go home and sleep it off. You need to think about what Gabi will say. How will everyone—”

“Gabi will say, ‘Oh, my God, honey, you scored from the middle of the court? That’s awesome.’ Then she’ll probably get on her knees and blow me for all my awesomeness.”

Mitch raised a brow.

“I bet you she does.” Blake scowled. “Now, let me do my job.”

A beat of tense silence filled the room.

“What are you two doing?” Alana asked in a sleep-roughened voice.

Blake shot him a grin, then turned toward the bed. “Morning, Allie.” He maneuvered around the crib to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Congratulations on this gorgeous little girl.”

“Thanks.” Alana scooted farther up the bed to sit against the pillows. “Are you as drunk as you look?”

Blake held his thumb and forefinger a hair’s breadth apart. “Just a smidge. We partied in the waiting room with some other expecting families. It was kinda cool.”

“And did you gain naming rights for their kids, too?”

Mitch froze at her dry question.

“No.” Blake waggled his brows. “Although, I did try.”

Mitch watched the two of them, anticipating the bloodbath about to take place. His best friend remained oblivious to the devil in Allie’s eyes. The guy had no clue he poked at a ticking time bomb.

“I’ll be out of your hair in a sec.” Blake moved back to the crib. “Just gotta decide on a title for the pumpkin.”

Mitch stared, wide-eyed, waiting for the bomb to detonate.

It didn’t.

His wife nodded, her gaze thoughtful as she focused on the tiny baby. “Have any names stood out?”

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