Who’s Your Baby Daddy – Season Two Read Online Stasia Black

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Stasia Black Advertisement1

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Okay, enough. I was done with being stuck in this apartment and seeing this gorgeous city from three stories up. I didn’t care how beautiful the view was.

I went to the closet and hunted for my shoes. Outside shoes, that is. I’d barely unpacked them, so I really had to root them out. And, I frowned, why the hell had I packed so many damn heels? Yes, I had been thinking of premieres and press events and not Lamaze classes, but still…!

I groaned as I pulled out yet another pair of heels and threw them towards the back of the closet into the shadows. Really, I wanted to throw them in the trash. I was cursing Mikayla for her no Doc Martens rule, cause I could really use some ankle support right about now.

Ah! There! At the bottom of my bag were some Keds and I hugged them to my chest before grabbing socks and then slipping them on my feet.

Or trying to. What the hell? These usually slipped on fine. But now I had to untie them, and even then, they barely fit. I blinked. I’d read in the pregnancy book that pregnant women’s feet could get bigger, but I was a bit horrified to see the real-life evidence.

I was going to need a whole new wardrobe pretty soon. I was starting to feel a tightness across my abdomen now that I was almost officially three months preggers. At some point, this would sink in as real, right? More than just in brief moments like at the ultrasound listening to the heartbeat.

I tied the tight shoes the rest of the way, shucked off my sweatshirt and pulled on a nice sundress. Then I grabbed my purse, wrote a quick note for Milo that I was taking a walk, and headed out.

Jogging down the stairs, I felt my heart lighten. I did yoga in the apartment to try to keep limber and do something active, but it felt good to use all my limbs.

And when I burst out of the door into the bright, sunny streets, I felt a burden lift from my chest I hadn’t even realized was there.

I breathed the fresh air in deep. Padua was close enough to the sea that I could smell it on the air, along with… I sniffed and God, something smelled delicious.

It was such a novel sensation—for food to smell…good, instead of sending me running for the toilet.

So I followed my nose. And it led me down a narrow cobblestone street with terracotta buildings towering three stories on either side, until it opened onto a large piazza, the one I could see from my balcony.

I smiled as I walked out into the sunlight and wandered among the stalls. Everything looked better than the last. But when I came across a little shop, a hole in the wall selling pizza, well, I figured why not start with the classics?

Pizza in Italy? Um, yes, please.

Janus and Leander were on a strict training diet, and Milo had taken to eating outside the apartment since there were a couple weeks I couldn’t even stand the smell of meat within a ten-foot radius.

The shop owner, a man in his fifties with graying hair that stuck out like Einstein’s, just kept grinning at me and saying, “È delizioso! Buon appetite!” as he handed over the slice.

The cheese was bubbled over and the bread looked so fresh. My stomach rumbled. “Grazie, grazie!” I said as I handed over some euros and took the pizza. A flood of Italian came my way as he grinned back at me.

I just lifted the pizza again and repeated, “Grazie!”

Then I found a spot on the side of a big fountain in the center of the sunlit plaza where I could sit. A few kids played nearby, running around and laughing their little heads off. It made my heart squeeze in a way it never had before.

I’d never thought much about kids, other than swearing I was never gonna be like my Mama, tied to the nursery and the kitchen.

I always threw myself into my work instead. I loved being a working woman. Traveling the world had always thrilled me. And what would happen to me now? What would happen once I gave birth to this baby?

I’d been living in a sort of stasis up in that apartment, denying the reality of time marching forward and all that meant.

Well, maybe I could keep denying for a little while longer. It was my specialty, right? And at the moment I had a little slice of heaven on a paper plate in my hands. I lifted the piece of hot prosciutto pizza high, mozzarella strings dripping, and took my first bite—

I moaned loud enough that a couple nearby looked my way. I couldn’t care.

Dear holy baby Jesus in a manger, that salty cheese! And the crust! It all melted in my mouth in a cheesy, salty—


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