Page 84 of Penalty Kick

“And you know that how?” she barked. Damn, her sass was strong today.

Gunnar crossed his arms, steeling his features. He looked like a bad guy from a movie when he stood like this, so intimidating that he could make almost anyone pee their pants.

“The whole reason I came in here was to find Dash, because he has a visitor in the lobby.

“Actually, I’m right here,” a sharp, nasally voice said.

A tall, thin blonde woman appeared suddenly, like she’d been looming in the shadows for just the right moment. Where the hell had she come from? Had she been here the whole time? Something about her looked familiar, but Dash couldn’t place it. Maybe she was a fan. That had to be it. Her bleached hair, overdone makeup, and obviously enhanced chest was not the aesthetic he went for in women. Yet, there was something about her…

“You were supposed to wait in the lobby,” Gunnar growls, his anger growing visibly. “But since she’s here, allow me to introduce Frisky von Horne.”

Frisky von who?

“You can call me Trixie,” the woman said.

“Is that supposed to sound better?” Talia snarked, brows knit in confusion. “Who the hell are you?”

“The woman carrying his child.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Talia’s stomach lurched. She had to be hearing things. There was no other explanation for this woman standing here, telling them she was pregnant with Dash’s child. None.

“Pardon?” Dash said. It was somewhere between a question and an exclamation, and was about the only word Talia had right now as well.

The woman smiled—a fake, saccharine smile that made Talia’s skin crawl. She instantly disliked the woman. Not because she was claiming to be knocked up by Dash—although that wasn’t helping anything. And not because of her profession. Talia couldn’t tell if said profession was stripper or hooker, but she was pretty sure it was one or the other. It was a snap judgment, sure, but Talia didn’t care. If she wanted to make a living getting naked, good for her—hope it works out. But there was an air about her that screamed trouble. Head to toe, this woman was bad, bad news.

Okay, and maybe her claims to be pregnant were part of that.

“You don’t remember?” she cooed, looking almost disappointed. But not quite.

“No,” Dash answered. “I have no idea who you are.”

“Sure you do, I’m Frisky—”

“Repeating that trashy name is not helping your cause,” Talia snarked, unable to hold back. She really, really did not like this woman.

Anger bubbled inside her as the visitor gave her that saccharine smile again. Talia wished she would just say whatever it was that she had to say and then leave.

“I work at the Landing Strip. You came and hung out with us after your big win a couple of months ago. We had so much fun. Although,” Frisky said, blushing. Her hands fled to her flat stomach, resting right where a bump would be in a few short months. “Maybe a little too much fun.”

Nausea washed over Talia, watching as Frisky held her hands in place, smiling. This wasn’t happening. Couldn’t be. Dash didn’t knock up a stripper. Sure, he didn’t remember that night; he’d been very up-front about that. Unless that was just his story. She’d believed he was being honest with her, but what if that was just his cover story? Plenty of men wouldn’t want to admit to sleeping with a stripper.

“Of course, there is no way to know which night this little blessing resulted from. Could have been any of them,” Frisky continued.

Which night? Talia’s mind reeled from that statement. Which night. That meant there was more than one. There might have been the night he didn’t remember, but he’d found his way to that club somehow. Apparently because he’d been there before.

No, no, no…

Talia let go of Dash’s hand, putting space between them. She needed room to breathe. Room to make this all make sense. Dash wasn’t that guy.

Right? She was second-guessing everything now. Her mind flashed to everything Dash had told her. All the amazing, wonderful things he’d said, secrets he’d shared. But there too were other things. His behavior prior to Vegas. The going out all the time, his trying to kiss Avery, the women who flocked to him. He’d flirt with anyone; she’d witnessed it with her own eyes. She’d also witnessed him putting her first though. A war was now waging inside her, and she didn’t know which way to fall.

“And why should we believe you?” she asked.

“Well, I didn’t bring the pee stick with me, but, I guess we could go buy one.”

“You have no proof it’s mine,” Dash interjected.