Baby, You're Mine (Yeah, Baby #1)

By: Fiona Davenport

Baby, You’re Mine

Yeah, Baby 1

Guy Rule #1: Sisters Are Off Limits

Bailey Cross grew up as the only daughter of a single mom. When she finds out about a family she never knew she had, she travels half-way across the country to meet them. On the night Bailey hits town, her nerves get the better of her, making her act out of character when she meets Wyatt Kincaid in a bar and lets him take her home. After a night that rocks her world, she races out of his bed as quickly as she fell into it. But, there is one thing Bailey can’t run from, the baby she and Wyatt created.

Wyatt went out looking for a good time and found a hell of a lot more than he’d bargained for. He wants more than a one night stand with the woman in his bed; he wants a chance at forever. But when he wakes up the next morning, she’s gone. He searches for her, but Bailey is nowhere to be found... until he goes looking in his best friend’s home.

Warning: This novella contains a sexy alpha, insta-love, and an "oops" baby! It's quick, hot, and dirty.

**This is the first novella in the Yeah, Baby series, but each story can be read as a standalone and features a different couple.

The pregnancy might be accidental, but their love is not.

Chapter 1


I stepped inside the dark and smoky interior of Jumpin’ Jacks, the only bar in Red Springs, Nebraska. It wasn’t far out of North Platte, but it was the nearest place to hang out without going into the city. I squinted as my eyes adjusted and scanned the room, but didn’t see the friend I was supposed to meet. Winding my way through the tables, I approached the bar and caught the eye of Wendy, the bartender. I lifted my chin in greeting, and she smiled, winking one heavily kohl-lined eye before grabbing a beer, popping the top, and sliding it down to my waiting hand.

Wendy’s smile widened and she flipped her bleached blonde hair over one bony shoulder. She swept her eyes over my body before she turned to help the next customer. My best friend and I had been coming to this bar since we were of legal age. Wendy hadn’t stopped trying to get into my pants since she poured me my first drink. After years of ignoring the fake boobs in my face and other not-so-subtle hints, you’d think she would get a clue. And yet, there I was, practically being violated by her direct and clearly dirty stare. Not that I had a problem with any woman picturing me naked and dreaming of doing filthy things to me, but I did have some standards.

“Neat trick.”

I froze with my beer halfway to my mouth. The soft, sultry voice washed over me, leaving me with a tightening in my pants and a racing heart. Yes, from just a fucking voice. However, my cock came to full attention when I got a look at the owner of the sexy voice. Long, glossy red curls, large, round, bright blue eyes, high cheekbones, and the most kissable lips I had ever seen in my life. But, what had my mouth watering were her curves. She had an hourglass figure that would give Marilyn Monroe a run for her money. Her tits would spill out of my hands, her hips were perfect to hold while I pounded into her from behind, and she was tall—her legs a mile long and showing off a good amount of skin from her short skirt riding up as she sat on a stool. I had a sudden urge to either tug it down as far as it would go or throw a jacket over them. Nobody should see those creamy, white thighs, but me. I finally realized I was standing there gaping, ok leering, at her and pried my jaw up from the ground.

I put on my best panty-melting smile, making sure my dimples popped. “Trick?” I asked.

She smiled and gestured toward the bar. “The thing where you caught the bottle. If I tried the same thing, it would mostly likely end up in my lap, or crashing into the person behind me.” She laughed and holy fuck, the rich, genuine sound was the last straw, the one that tipped over the mountain of hay.

I fell.

“Wyatt Kincaid,” I informed her, holding out my hand. She took it and started to shake, but I brought it to my lips and brushed a kiss across the back. She blushed, and my heart started pounding, desire coursing through my veins.

“Bailey Cross.”

“Are you new in town?” I asked, taking a seat on the empty stool next to her.

She took a sip of her martini and her eyes darted away. “Sort of.” When her gaze returned to mine, a blush had stolen across her cheeks and she shifted in her chair, suddenly nervous. “I just finished my first year teaching and I’m out for the summer. So, I came here to...” she trailed off and swallowed.