Authors: Andrea Smith
Baby Come Back
a
by Come Back
Book
3.5 of ‘Baby Series’
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: Meatball Taster Publishing
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I would like to personally thank my readers for the wonderful help and feedback that they have provided on my previous books, their help in getting the word out to their friends and book buddies, and taking time to write reviews. My friend, Becky, thanks for being my biggest fan since Book #1!
I want to give a special thanks to SueBee from Goodreads, whose help, input and tenacity saw me through with the struggles of getting the covers on my previous books replaced with more aesthetic versions; and for creating an awesome cover for this book! As always, thank you to Brenda for the help in editing. A shout-out to Jo Jo, Susanne (SueBee), Tiffany, Georgia, Vel, Wendy, Liz, for the awesome, interesting and thorough reviews!
I also would like to mention (and thank) Janett, Keesha, Allison, Lauren, Amber, Kathy, Alexandria, Carla, Misty, Shamika, Tam, Tara, Carrie, Jennifer, Jenn, Elaine, Jessica, Dawn Lee, Missy, Rebecca, Stacie, Fifi, Vikki, Vicky, Julie, Ninore, Anne, Kim, Cristina, Bonnie, Anna, Betsy, Amy, Angela, Donna, Vika, Debra, Emily, Roxy and all of the others who took the time to give my books a chance!
Self-publishing is a 'work-in-progress' for me; I really do appreciate everyone's patience and tolerance in looking past the bad cover on 'Maybe Baby,' and not allowing the typos to get in the way of the stories! Hopefully, you've all seen a vast improvement, right Brenda??
To all of my friends on Goodreads - Thank you!!
To the Goodreads Librarians - Thank you!!
f Contents
CHAPTER
1
That was that I decided. Tristan had simply stormed out of the apartment. Tylar had made some herbal tea for me, tucked me into my very empty bed and assured me that everything would be okay. She had made a bet that Tristan would be back in my bed by morning. My BFF was going to lose that bet. That much I was sure of with Tristan. I knew Tylar meant well, but she hadn’t been there to observe Tristan earlier, at the club.
I lay awake in our bed replaying what had happened earlier. It was all so fuzzy for me now; it had transpired as if I was an observer watching it happen, piece by piece, frame by frame. It was supposed to be a beautiful day for Tristan and me. We had been closer than ever since the news of the impending birth of our baby.
Tristan had always had a sweetness about him; now it was in high gear. My God, it was all that he ever talked about with the exception of us getting married. He was being a stickler on that.
He was vigilant about my diet and health; he insisted I cut my hours at work until at least the second trimester (that was his compromise) as I was prepared to work right up until the time I delivered.
When we made love, which was often, he was even more tender than usual but still made sure that I was satisfied with everything that he did.
Today had started out as perfect as the other ones had been lately. I was cooking something special for Tristan. We were going to have a late supper together when he got home. Then mid-afternoon I had received that phone call from Ian. He was drunk.
“Hey Giner,” he had halfway slurred, “Aren’t you going to congratulate my impending fatherhood?”
“Ian? What the hell?”
“Seems like my essence is just fine, love. I shared the good news with your boyfriend. I don’t expect I’ll be hearing any congratulatory remarks from that one when you squeeze my baby out of your womb in a few months.”
“Ian, I don’t know what the fuck you are talking about or what the fuck you have done, but I swear--”
“Don’t swear, love. It’s not ladylike. I don’t want our baby hearing that kind of talk. Got to run, Giner. Cheers!”
I had quickly pulled up Tristan’s number on my cell. He didn’t answer. Shit! What the hell had Ian done?
I had grabbed my keys and coat; instructed Trey as to when to take my casserole out and told him to enjoy it with Tylar. He had looked a bit puzzled. I told him I was going to the club. No need for further explanation.
