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It’s Lily Parker’s first day at a new high school. She’s a senior finishing her last semester, and all she wants to do is graduate and get out of town. Her home life is a secret hell, and she’s trying to find a way out. But everything changes when Ren says hello and sees right through to her truth.

Ren Hendrick’s succeed’s at everything he touches, including football. But he’s never been passionate about anything. He’s quiet and keeps to himself, which pisses people off. But he can’t find the desire to care. He’s lived a life without color, until Lily walks in and lights up his world.

Their story is one of sweet young love and finding your forever before you can even dream of what that is. It’s one of protecting what belongs to you and having the courage to follow your heart, no matter your age.

Warning: Call your dentist and schedule an appointment, because you’re going to get nothing but cavities from this sugary book. Ren and Lily start off so innocent, but by the time it’s over, you’re gonna need to hose yourself off. We’re talking two virgins who turn into maniacs. You’re welcome!

Shielding Lily

Chapter 1
*Lily*

 
The sounds of banging cabinets startle me awake before my alarm can go off. Rolling over to my side, I see I still have thirty minutes before I need to get up. I’d set my alarm a little earlier than I should have because I’m nervous about my first day. I’m going to a new school and have no idea what this one is going to be like. You never know what you’re going to get. Most of the time I can blend in and let myself get lost in the crowd of other students. No one notices me for the most part, but it doesn’t always work.
I should be used to changing schools by now. I think this is the fourth time I’ve moved in the past two years. The schools are starting to run together, but I hope this is the last. Only months separate me from graduation, and only days from my eighteenth birthday. I’ll be able to make my own choices then.
A sound of something shattering in the kitchen followed by a string of curses causes me to hold my breath. I can only hope he doesn’t call out my name. Monday mornings are the worst. Dad’s always coming off a weekend bender, because alcohol seems to be my father’s reason for living. It wasn’t always like this, but it is now.
Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I slowly sit up and listen for his movements. Things have been getting unstable lately, and it’s only getting worse. Dad used to be able to drown his sorrows in the bottom of a bottle and pretend I didn’t exist. But recently his anger has been rising and flying my way. I’m constantly walking around on eggshells, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the look in his eyes, but I can see it. I can feel it deep inside me, like he’s waiting for me to do something wrong so he can strike out.
But I always make sure there isn’t a reason. I desperately don’t want that change to come. I’m a skittish rabbit in my own home. When I finally hear the front door slam closed, all my muscles release, and an all-too-familiar tension within me relaxes.
I pull myself from the bed and get ready for school. I go with a short button-up blue jean dress with wool leggings underneath. They’re soft and warm and will help with the chill on my mile-long walk to school. It’s early January, and the Minnesota winter is raging. The more layers I can put on, the better.
Looking in the mirror, I part my hair a little to the side so more falls to the right, before putting in a small clip to hold it in place. I make sure the scar by my ear is hidden as much as possible, then I look myself over, double-checking everything. The scar is all I ever see when I look in the mirror. It’s the bitter reminder of the day that changed my world. My mom might have died in the car, but she dragged my father with her into the grave. Nothing has been the same since that day.
Now when I look into the mirror, the scar isn’t the first thing I see. I see my mother. When I was unpacking boxes last night I pulled out a photo album of my parents when they were younger. I look just like her at my age. From my white-blonde hair, to my too-big blue eyes that take over my face, to my front teeth that are a little bigger than the rest, and my small upturned nose.
We almost look like twins in pictures of us at the same age. Reaching out, I touch the mirror, wishing it was my mother. But all the wishing in the world can’t turn back the clock. I spent the first year after she died wishing for so many things. Wishing gets you nowhere.
I wipe at the tear that’s somehow escaped. I miss when I looked in the mirror and I only saw the scar. It was easier to deal with. Grabbing my bag, I head downstairs knowing the mess my dad made will still be there.
Since my mom died I’ve sort of taken her place when it comes to the household chores. I make sure everything is kept clean, the laundry is done, and dinner is on the table before my dad gets home from whatever job he is doing. Normally it’s some kind of security since he lost his badge after one too many DWIs. I don’t know how he can drink all night and still get up for work, but he does it.
I finish cleaning up the shattered coffee mug from the floor and make sure everything else is in its place. I pull a pack of hamburger meat out of the freezer and sit it out on the stove to defrost. I’ll make something with it when I get home.
Bundling up the best I can, I pray that the weather won’t be too bad when school finally lets out. I need to see about finding a job on the weekends. Maybe I can fill out most of the applications online during lunch at the school library. I’ve seen a few small places in town that are on my way to school. I can see about popping in and applying on my way home. They’d be the best bet being so close. Maybe I’d get lucky and could even work a few hours after school, making it home before Dad.
Dad will never go for me working through the week if it means no dinner on the table, but the weekends he seems okay with. I’ve been pooling every penny I can and saving it away. I feel like time is running out and I need as much money as I can get to try and get a place of my own. I want to be able to afford college next year and to put a roof over my head. I have to get out of here. I can’t watch my father kill himself. I already watched my mother die.
 

Alexa Riley is two sassy friends who got together and wrote some dirty books. They are both married moms of two who love football, donuts, and obsessed book heroes.

They specialize in insta-love, over-the-top, sweet, and cheesy love stories that don’t take all year to read. If you want something SAFE, short, and always with a happily ever after, then Alexa Riley is for you!

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Mary-Jane wasn’t looking for drama. All she wanted was a family of her own, so she decided to make that happen. A mix-up at the sperm bank leaves her with a baby in her belly, but the father is none the wiser.

Ty was injured in a bull-riding accident, and now all he plans on doing is working on his ranch and keeping to himself. That is, until a little dark-haired woman shows up on his doorstep.

When their paths cross, will Mary-Jane be able to reveal to Ty that he’s the father? Will Ty be able to keep Mary-Jane from running? Will there be a lot of steam in this book? You betcha!

Warning: This pregnant virgin story is wonderfully ridiculous and just as sweet as it sounds. Saddle up and take an evening stroll with this easy quickie.

CHAPTER ONE

*Mary-Jane*

“How did you get yourself into this, Mary-Jane?” I ask myself for the twentieth time today. I was set to arrive at my new temporary place of employment in a little over two hours and dread was weighing heavily on me. I just hope the clothes I brought will do well to hide this little baby bump that keeps getting bigger and bigger by the day. I’m running out of time.
I let out a long sigh as I absently rub my hand over the bump. This little boy has become my whole world. In all my planning I never thought this would happen. Just when I thought I was getting something I’d wanted so dearly, everything else in my life started to fall apart. Just goes to show you: you can plan everything how you like, but someone else can come to kick it out from under you, and you have to try and pick the pieces up the best you can. This time, though, it isn’t my pieces I’m picking up. I have a baby to protect and to make a life for.
“I promise, little man, I won’t let anyone take you from me.” I rest both hands on my stomach, praying my words are true and that I’m not making a giant mistake by going to see the one person who could take my baby away from me. My heart clenches at the thought of losing him. I can’t. I won’t, I correct myself. Losing this baby isn’t an option.
Someone couldn’t be that heartless, could they? To take a baby from its mother? I’m not so sure here, though. If what I’ve found out about my baby’s father is true, then heartless is pretty damn close.
Last week my doctor told me that they’d made a mistake. A giant one. They’d given me a specimen from the wrong sperm donor. Someone who wasn’t a willing donor at all.
I’d gotten two giant kicks in one day. I’d lost my job and was possibly losing my child. The clinic said they had to inform the man who’d donated. I’d asked for his name and requested they give me some time before they contacted him. They were reluctant at first, but they’d given me both after I threatened a lawsuit.
After a little online stalking I’d found my baby’s father. When I’d seen who he was, I’d lost my breath. He was known all over Texas, or so it seemed with all the articles a few years back. He used to ride bulls, but now he owns a big ranch down south, almost two hours from here. The place I’ll be calling home for a little while.
A lot of the articles weren’t flattering. He was one of the best bull riders, having won dozens of competitions, but he had a reputation to go along with it. Many articles and posts I found called him an arrogant asshole. Meaner than the bulls he rode. It made me think he wasn’t going to have any compassion when it came to this situation. Or maybe he’d just sign on the dotted line and let me and my son go.
Or he could try to take him from me. He had the money. The thought of running kept fluttering through my mind. I had money saved up, and made a small profit when I’d sold my little house just two days ago, but something about running felt wrong.
I had to be sure that if I did choose to run, I was making the right decision. That I was protecting my baby, making sure we could be together. That’s why I had to do this. I had to go meet this man. See who he was in person, because you can’t always believe rumors.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Ideally, maybe we could share custody. I could get a place in town not far from his ranch. Find a local job there and we could do this together, if that’s what he wanted. It wasn’t what I signed up for when I’d decided I wanted a baby. I’d made the choice to go this alone, which I’ve been doing my whole life.
What if he has a wife or girlfriend? The thought makes my stomach turn. I could be turning their lives upside down. Then my baby would have another mom. A lump forms in my throat. It feels like every time I get something good going in my life, someone or something is trying to rip it from me.
I searched and searched for anything on him with someone else and came up with nothing. I’d read article after article on his bull-riding days and never was a woman mentioned or pictured with him. He had a hard look on his very handsome face, so I’m not sure I’d want to stand next to him and pose for a picture either.
It was hard to see his face in a lot of pictures with the cowboy hat, but I could always see the grim line of his mouth and hard jaw. It always seemed locked in place. You’d think if you just won some big competition you’d at least smile or something. Nope. Not him. Picture after picture he still had that hard, locked jaw. Almost like he couldn’t talk. He’s scary and intimidating. I don’t know how I’m going to tell him about this baby.
Worse is thinking maybe he does want to be in this baby’s life and he’ll be cold and hard to my little boy. I’d grown up with a father like that and it wasn’t easy. Even to this day I can’t say whether or not he loved me. Did he take care of me? Yes. But I feel more like he put up with me because he had to. It didn’t matter if I was there or not.
I think I would rather him at least be angry or something. The indifference and coldness left me empty and numb.
What I did find during my internet search was a job opening on his ranch. Someone to help around the house for the summer and do some of the books. I could get an up-close look at the father of my child before I had to tell him the truth.
“Ma’am, I think that’s everything.” I look up at one of the movers who’s been packing up my stuff to put into storage. I take the clipboard he’s holding out and sign on the dotted line. He hands me the key to the storage unit they’d put it all in.
My hand closes around the key that holds almost everything I own except two suitcases I have packed away in the trunk of my car. Even the stuff for the baby room I’d started to put together has been packed away in here. I hold back a tear, not wanting to make this poor man uncomfortable.
“Thank you,” I tell him, handing back the clipboard.
He nods before turning to leave.
I stand in my empty house. The place where I thought I’d be raising my son. A home that would have been filled with so much love. He’d never feel the coldness like I had.
Even without the donor mix-up I would have been leaving anyway. I’d moved to this little town because I wanted to get away from the big city. I dreamed of living somewhere where everyone knew everyone. I wanted to have a family in a place like this.
Problem was, I couldn’t find anyone I wanted to have a family with.

Alexa Riley is two sassy friends who got together and wrote some dirty books. They are both married moms of two who love football, donuts, and obsessed book heroes.

They specialize in insta-love, over-the-top, sweet, and cheesy love stories that don’t take all year to read. If you want something SAFE, short, and always with a happily ever after, then Alexa Riley is for you!

Author Links

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