Page 19 of Desperate Games

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The Callahan estate is lit up like a goddamn movie set, and the faint sound of laughter and clinking glasses wafts in the breeze.

I climb the steps.

Tell myself I’m ready for polite smiles and uncomfortable questions and probably a handful of babies being thrust into my arms like good luck charms.

But the second I walk through the door and spot him—the air shifts.

What is he doing here?

Remy.

Remy fucking Falco.

My one-night-stand-baby-daddy-that-never-was.

He’s leaning against the wall like a goddamn GQ spread. Arms crossed. Button-down rolled at the sleeves. A glass of something dark sits in his hand.

And, fuck me, he looks good.

Shit. Is he here with someone? Do I even want to know?

Before I can tuck tail and run, he turns his head, and those green eyes lock right on me.

Heat licks up my spine.

My knees—traitors—go a little soft.

He doesn’t smile.

Doesn’t wink.

Doesn’t say a word.

But that look?

Oh, I feel it.

Like it’s a brand against my skin.

Like I’m standing under a spotlight while he devours me with nothing more than his gaze.

Double shit.

Chapter Five-Andrea

I swallow hard, pretending like I’m not suddenly wishing I’d worn the dress that doesn’t wrinkle in the lap or cling in the waist.

I tear my eyes away, force my feet to move.

Don’t look desperate, Andrea.

Don’t look hopeful.

Because here’s the thing—I don’t know if this is fate handing me a second shot at my baby plan, or if it’s just a cruel twist of the universe.

A cosmic joke at my expense.

Because, Remy Falco?

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