Hollywood Love: Book 9: A sexy celebrity romance (Hollywood Billionaires) Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright page

  Sunday, October 12th

  Monday, October 13th

  Tuesday, October 14th

  Books by Jillian

  HOLLYWOOD LOVE

  Book #9

  ————————————————————-

  JILLIAN DODD

  Copyright © 2014-2017 by Jillian Dodd

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. This young adult romance is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced I this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. This ebook is licensed for you personal use only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with someone, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with, especially if you love swoon-worthy boys, strong heroines, and epic love stories.

  If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy.

  Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Jillian Dodd Inc.

  N. Redington Beach, FL

  Jillian Dodd and The Keatyn Chronicles are registered trademarks of Jillian Dodd, Inc.

  Sunday, October 12th

  Asher Vineyards — Sonoma County

  ARIELA

  After pacing in my room for twenty minutes, I decide I need some wine and someone to talk to, so I go over to Maggie’s house.

  Logan asks me a barrage of questions about Eastbrooke’s homecoming, which I politely answer. But the nagging in my head gets so strong I just blurt out, “I think Riley got a girl pregnant.”

  “Why do you think that?” Maggie asks.

  I give them a replay of our phone conversation and what I think I heard.

  “And then he texted you and said he had business?” Maggie asks incredulously.

  “Honestly, I’m surprised Riley doesn’t already have kids,” Logan says. “He definitely gets around.”

  “Logan!” Maggie says, giving him the evil eye.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “I know why he’s been doing what he’s been doing, and I understand it. Plus, I can’t say much since I’m married.”

  “Regardless, I want to know what’s going on,” Maggie says. “I’m texting Keatyn.”

  “Do you think she will know?”

  Maggie squints her eyes at me. “You know how tight they were in high school. Times that by more than ten years.”

  I watch as she sends out a text, and I stare at her expectantly.

  “There are little dots, like she’s typing something, but then they disappear. That usually means she doesn’t know what to say.”

  My phone vibrates on the table. “Oh, shit,” Logan says. “It’s Riley. Ten bucks says he’s with Keatyn and Aiden. You better answer that.”

  “Yeah, I guess I should.” I hit the button and say, “Hey, Riley.”

  “Yeah, so sorry about our call. Um, it’s been kind of a crazy night.”

  Part of me wants to immediately ask if what I heard is what she said, but the other part of me—probably the part who has a husband she doesn’t trust—wants to test him. To see what he will tell me on his own.

  He continues. “I had some personal business to take care of. I’m not sure what you heard before the call disconnected.”

  Personal business. I sigh with relief.

  “Are you still there?” he asks, his voice soft but stressed. I want to reach my hand through the phone and caress his face.

  “It’s okay, Riley,” I say instead.

  “I don’t know if you will say that once I tell you this, but Shelby—”

  “The girl who was in your place that night?”

  “Yes. She’s pregnant.”

  “Did you date long?”

  “No. We had a total of three dates—the three movie premieres—and used a condom every time. There was never any evidence of failure, but she’s pregnant. I made her do a pregnancy test and everything.”

  “Are you sure it’s yours?” I ask gently.

  “Keatyn tells me the timing’s right. But we’ll be doing a paternity test as soon as possible. If it is mine, I have to be a good father, Ariela.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to be anything else.”

  “Can you—can we—if we decide to go forward—handle this? God, Ariela, you are the only one I ever wanted to have a baby with. When I heard you didn’t have any children, I took it as another sign. That you were waiting for us to get back together. That we were meant to be. That maybe it was fate.”

  “And what do you think now, Riley?”

  “I think fate is a tricky bitch.”

  I laugh. “Brooklyn said that to Keatyn in the movie.”

  I laugh too. “Yeah, he did. He used to say it a lot. God, I miss him.”

  “You were all close?”

  “He was one of my best friends. After it happened, I almost—I got on the plane and everything . . .”

  “Almost what?”

  “Came to find you. We were all devastated. And Aiden said something about never wasting a moment of our lives. I got on my plane and flew to Connecticut, but I had chickened out by the time I got there. I was afraid you would say you never wanted to see me again or that you were married or something, and I knew my heart couldn’t take it.”

  “Oh, Riley,” I say, tears filling my eyes. “You have no idea how much that touches me. That you thought of me in that moment.”

  “Does that mean you’re not mad about Shelby?”

  “It happened before I came to California, Riley. I can’t be mad about it.” It’s the right thing to say, but I’m not sure if I mean it. I am mad about it. And the event planner in me is ticking off all the ways this could go wrong. All the hurdles and obstacles that could get in the way if we decide to have a relationship. Our love would be tested in ways we never expected. I hear a muffled noise. “Riley, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, sorry,” he says. “It’s like I’ve been holding my breath since she said I’m pregnant. I was worried you might think I’m not worth the hassle.”

  “Riley, I’m still married. If we go forward, it isn’t going to be easy. And to quote another line from Brooklyn, Life is messy. It’s supposed to be that way.”

  He lets out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t want it to be. We’re supposed to talk about us this week. Get to know each other again. Do you still want that?”

  “Yes, I do. And, Riley, we don’t really have to decide at the wedding if we want to date. We can take our time. Get to be friends again first.”

  “I’m tired,” he says.

  “I am too. Let’s say goodnight.”

  “Like we used to?” I can hear the boy in his voice.

  “Just like we used to. Go.”

  “I’ll be dreaming of you,” we say in unison.

  Shelby’s Apartment - The Valley

  SHELBY

  As I enter my crappy apartment, I run my hand
across my belly and think about how Riley took the news. Honestly, I thought an honest man like him would let me move in right away.

  I slam the door shut hard, pissed that I’m back here and not sitting pretty in Riley’s penthouse, planning our wedding. The things a girl has to do to get ahead in this city.

  My roommate yells at me, “Well, how’d it go?”

  “Come out here and talk to me. I need a drink.”

  “You shouldn’t be drinking when you’re pregnant,” she says, coming out of her bedroom and plopping down on our second-hand sofa. I study the golden color of the velvet fabric—make that third or fourth hand.

  “I drank before I knew I was pregnant. I don’t think one more will hurt.”

  “That baby is your golden ticket out of here. You should take good care of it.”

  “True,” I say, grabbing a glass out of the dishwasher. “Are these clean?”

  She shrugs. “Maybe.”

  I hold the glass up to the light. “There’s lipstick on the corner. I’ll just rinse it out.” I run the wine glass—one of the two we own—under hot water, then cold, then fill it to the rim from a box of white zinfandel in the refrigerator. “You want one?”

  “Please,” she says, handing me her empty plastic cup, which is emblazoned with the logo of the sports bar she works days at.

  “So, how did he take the news?” she asks as we make ourselves comfortable on the couch.

  “He was shocked. I mean, that’s to be expected, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Then he was kind of an ass. That did surprise me. He actually made me take a pregnancy test right then and there.”

  “Well, thank God you’re really pregnant.”

  “Can you imagine? He keeps pregnancy tests like all the time because girls say they are preggers when they aren’t to try and trap him.”

  “That’s pretty tacky, if you ask me,” she says. “But he is rich. I’m sure he has to worry about gold diggers.”

  We share a knowing glance and then both start giggling.

  “Was he ever surprised when the test turned positive right away. I even pretended to be worried about it. Told him it might not turn pink since it was so early.”

  “That was a nice touch. What did he say when you suggested moving in?”

  “He said it was too fast. Of course, then I suggested we get married right away. I think that spooked him a little, plus he was talking on the phone when I got there. Remember the night I got his doorman to let me in and was waiting for him in that little strappy costume?”

  “Oh, yeah. He showed up with some other chick, right?”

  “Yeah. When he came in the building, he was talking to her on the phone—sounding all lovey-dovey.”

  “So she could be a problem?”

  “Maybe, but I have a bigger problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He wants a paternity test.”

  She takes a big sip of her wine, sloshing a little onto the couch—obviously it’s not her first cup of the night. “That gives you seven months to get him to marry you.”

  “Wrong. I have one month. Apparently, they can test after eight weeks. Did you know they could do it so soon?”

  “No. I thought they couldn’t tell until after the baby was born.”

  “That’s what I thought too.”

  “You’re already eight weeks!”

  “Yeah, but he doesn't know that.”

  “Then you better work fast, girl.”

  “Oh, I plan to.”

  “And what about the baby’s real father?”

  “Larry? He’s a bartender. I didn't come to California to starve. But the good news is Riley said he’d find me a place to live, and he’d take care of me.”

  “Then what?”

  “We sleep together, of course. A lot. He likes it naughty, and I can do naughty. I’ll have him down on his knees begging for more.”

  “More like you’ll be down on your knees,” she quips.

  “Ha. True. He does like that. Of course, what guy doesn’t? Anyway, that preppy little bitch who looked horrified when I suggested a threesome is no match for me.”

  “Game on,” my friend says.

  “I’ll drink to that,” I agree, clinking my glass against hers. “You would have been proud of me. I gave the performance of my life. Cried when appropriate. Was offended when I needed to be. I still don’t understand why I’ve never gotten an acting job.”

  “You manage to land Riley and keep your body after the baby, and you won’t ever need to work again.”

  “True,” I say, dreamily imagining the rest of my life as one glitzy diamond-and-designer filled movie premiere.

  Monday, October 13th

  Keatyn & Aiden’s home - Malibu

  KEATYN

  “Are you sure I shouldn’t go to the doctor with you?” Aiden asks as his lips graze across my shoulder.

  “I’m sure. It’s just a check-up, besides, you need to be at the vineyard today to give that foundation a tour. It will be a big deal if Moon Wish teams up with them.”

  “I know, but I’m wondering if it’s too big. We’ve always tried to help smaller causes where the funds really make a difference.”

  “But the publicity from teaming up with them will put Moon Wish on the map with major philanthropists, not just people who follow celebrities. And that, in turn, will help us reach more people in the long run so that we can continue to make a difference with the smaller causes.”

  He pulls me in tighter. “You’re right. Overall it’s a good thing, but it’s going to require a lot of travel on my part if it all goes through.”

  “As long as your trips don’t interfere with our honeymoon and end by the time I’m done filming, it will be fine. We’re used to crazy schedules.”

  “Not for much longer,” he says, caressing my belly. “Can you believe that in less than a week you will finally be Mrs. Aiden Arrington?”

  I sigh happily. “I love that name. In fact, I love it so much, I’m keeping it.”

  “You won’t have much choice after we’re married,” he says with a laugh.

  “I mean professionally, Aiden. I’m going to be Keatyn Arrington.”

  “Really? Are you sure that’s a good career move?”

  “Ha! You sound like Vanessa.”

  “You don’t have to do that for me,” he says, his hand burning a trail down my side and leaving me breathless.

  “I’m not doing it for you.” I roll on top of him and kiss his neck. “I’m doing it for me.”

  After a sexy send-off, I’m at the doctor’s office.

  “So how are you feeling?” my obstetrician asks me.

  “Pretty good, overall. A little morning sickness. Strong smells seem to bother me—or maybe it’s that things smell stronger than usual.”

  “Are you taking it easy? Getting enough rest? Eating well?”

  “I’m definitely sleeping more than normal, and I’m pretty worn out by the end of the day. Whenever we get a break in filming, I always used to work, but instead I’ve been napping. And, I’ve probably been eating a little too well,” I say, patting my stomach, which seems to have popped out over the last few days.

  “That’s good to hear. How’s your work schedule going to be during your pregnancy?”

  “We wrap up filming here on Thursday, then I’m off for three weeks. After that, I’ll be filming on locations around the world. We’ll be gone for about three months and then I’ll be off until the baby is born.”

  “Very good. We’re going to do an ultrasound today. I’d like to see what’s going on in there.”

  “But we don’t have an ultrasound scheduled. Is something wrong?”

  “Your blood test shows that your hCG levels are a little higher than I would expect at this stage of the game.”

  “That’s the pregnancy hormone? Is high bad?”

  “It’s not bad, but we need to take a look so we can determine your actual due date. Your levels suggest y
ou could be further along.”

  “But I had my period last month. How could I be—”

  “Let’s just take a look.”

  “But Aiden should be here. We wanted to do the ultrasound together. See our baby for the first time together!”

  “We’ll be checking for a heartbeat and taking some measurements today. Would you like to call and have him come in?”

  I shake my head. “I can’t. He flew up to the vineyard for the day, and I won’t have time to come back this week. I guess we should do it now.”

  While they get the ultrasound started, I try not to panic.

  But it’s hard not to.

  Why aren’t my hormone levels normal? What does that mean? What if something is wrong with our baby?

  I glance over at the screen even though I don’t want to. It’s like watching a horror movie with my hands over my face, peeking through my fingers.

  The doctor and ultrasound tech are studying the screen intently. And the concern on both their faces is evident. I also haven’t heard a heartbeat. What if there isn’t one? What will I do if he tells me something is wrong? How would I tell Aiden?

  I look closer and try to figure out what they are seeing. All I see is what looks like static, but then the movement stops, and they focus on a dark circle.

  The tech nudges the doctor.

  “Is there something wrong?” I ask.

  “Do you see that, there?” The doctor points to the screen as it flickers, showing us the dark circle from a different angle. One that allows me to see there’s something inside it.

  “Ohmigosh, is that the baby? Is it okay?”

  “It is okay,” the doctor says. “Do you see that flicker? That’s the baby’s heart beating.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “And don’t worry. I expect your pregnancy to continue normally,” he tells me. “This will just cause a few wrinkles.”

  “A few—” I start to ask.

  The tech, who has been clicking away, interrupts me. “Eight weeks and two days for this one.”