Make Me Bad(80)

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Madison and Mopsie—you have to admit that’s adorable.”

“Adorable,” he repeats sarcastically.

I turn back to the ocean and smile.

In truth, I have a list of names a mile long. Each day I wake up with a new favorite and I’m fully convinced that by the time this baby arrives, she’ll have one of those long, rambling names like she’s a British aristocrat. Katherine Marguerite Nicolette Rosenberg.

Ben shifts and sits up, dropping his hat on the lounge chair. It’s the one he gave me after the frisbee incident, the one I let him borrow from time to time. We both know it rightfully belongs to me.

He stretches his arms overhead and his abs pull taut. I lower my sunglasses just a smidge to get a better view.

He spots me and smirks. “I’m going to get back in the water. You want to come?”

I shake my head. “You go. I’m comfy here.”

“All right. Take care of our girl while I’m gone,” he says before he turns, walking over the pebbled beach toward the waves. It’s not so crowded that I lose sight of him as he dives forward and swims out toward the horizon. He’s so beautiful, bronzed, and muscular. His brown hair has sun streaks. Even after years together, the butterflies in my stomach are alive and well.

I think part of that has to do with the fact that I haven’t fully come to terms with reality. Ben Rosenberg is my husband. This giant rock on my finger is a real diamond, not a piece of costume jewelry. He tells me I’m beautiful and he laughs at my jokes. My wildest dreams have come true, and that’s just it—all of this still sort of feels like a dream. I’m scared my dad will shake me awake and tell me I’m running late for work. I’ll throw off my covers and slide right back into my old life, each day the same, each night spent wondering if there’s something more waiting for me.

Then I press my hand to my stomach, and I know our child is growing there, our little girl who will be here before we know it.

This is real. This is what I wished for on my 25th birthday—well, not this exact thing. Wishing for Ben Rosenberg to impregnate me would have been kind of weird, but I like to think the universe extrapolated what I meant.

Ever since then, I’ve made some big birthday wishes. Why wouldn’t I? The first one worked pretty damn well.

On my 26th birthday, I wished that Ben would propose.

Eight months later, he was down on one knee, sliding a ring on my finger while I did an absolutely abysmal job of keeping it together. In every photo from that night, I have snot running down my face. Eli has one framed in his house. He tells the twins, “That’s your crazy aunt!”

On my 27th birthday, I wished that our wedding would go off without a hitch.

Cut to my dad and Ben’s dad side by side on the dance floor, drunk as skunks, stumbling through the Macarena. They’ve been friends ever since.

On my 28th birthday, I wished we’d try for a baby.

And well, here I am, lying on the Ligurian Coast, knocked up.

It should come as no surprise that I’ve held on to that blue birthday candle, the one that first gave me the courage to change my life. In fact, it’s tucked safely away inside a box in our closet, right on top of a stolen copy of The Divine Comedy, two souvenirs from my early days with Ben.

He suggested we give the book back to Jake. Never. Stolen or not, it’s mine now.

I smile at the thought.

Maybe Ben really did make me bad.





I hope you enjoyed being bad with Madison and Ben! If you love enemies-to-lovers, handsome jerks, and witty banter, keep reading for an excerpt from my bestselling romantic comedy

A PLACE IN THE SUN.





SYNOPSIS





When her mother’s incessant matchmaking hits an all-time high, Georgie Archibald does what any sensible woman would do: she flees the country.





Seeking refuge in the picturesque seaside village of Vernazza, Italy, Georgie’s only plan is to lie low, gorge herself on gelato, and let the wine and waves wash her troubles away…that is until she wakes up in a bed that belongs to the most romantic-looking man she’s ever seen.





Gianluca.





After going out of his way to rescue her, the former London financier turned mysterious recluse makes it clear that despite acting as her white knight, he has no plans to co-star in her fairytale.





She isn’t asking for his heart, though. She’s merely intrigued.





After all, she’s never met a man quite as rude or arrogantly aloof as he is. Even worse, Gianluca isn’t just gorgeous—tall and tan from days spent in the sun—his touch sets her world on fire.





With him, Georgie experiences the most intoxicating passion she’s ever known, and it only takes a few stolen moments for her to realize that sometimes running away from trouble is the best way to find it.





Chapter 1





Georgie





HOW WAS NO one else seeing this?

The two middle-aged tourists in queue to enter the Colosseum were going at it like randy teenagers. The woman had her leg coiled up around her lover’s waist and his hand had disappeared beneath her skirt fifteen minutes ago—the thing hadn’t come up for air since.