Ashville Players

One night. Two lines. A play neither of us saw coming.

The itinerary for girls' weekend in Las Vegas was simple. Gamble. Get drunk. Wear a little black dress that screamed "newly single and ready to make bad decisions."

That bad—yet oh so very good decision—came when Maddox Gallagher walked into the bar.

In my defense, it was hard to resist the younger football player. Between the dimple in his cheek and the way he held me when we danced, I was a goner. Add in the fact that he was celebrating a championship trophy and I was toasting to no longer being married, we were a match made in one-night-of-fun heaven.

But what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?

Whoever said that was a liar.

Because tell me why my one-night stand is now walking into my bakery, bound and determined to turn our one night into something more.

And why did I bring home a souvenir that won't get here for nine months and also not have a return policy?

This isn't how the new chapter of my life was supposed to start. I wanted to be my own person.

Own the bakery I've always dreamed of.

Travel.

Date and see what the world had to offer.

Not fight off feelings for the football player who's turning my world upside down and painting a nursery in the process, wondering if he's really my forever.

Because he, and this baby, might've been unplanned, but I'm now wondering if this is exactly what the itinerary was supposed to be all along.