The man had seemed so innocent in the bar—okay, not innocent, per say. He’d been hot, hard, and possessed a butt that I wanted to bite like the last chocolate chip cookie in my stash. He’d also skipped out of town faster than a villain in a B movie, leaving me woefully unsatisfied. I’d chalked the whole incident up to a bad night stand and moved on with my life. That was before the news of a failed IUD. Before the plus sign. Before Jordan showed back up determined to make that night up to me. I didn’t want a baby or a payday or a sexy, stubborn man in my life. I wanted to go back in time and pretend none of it had happened. Unfortunately, my life had become all about that plus sign . . . and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.