Christmas Baby For The Billionaire

CHAPTER TWO

AFTER JEREMY’S LAST statement, tensions had ratcheted up again. Tori had asserted that nothing was going to be decided that afternoon and perhaps they could pick up the discussion later after they’d both had time to think. He hadn’t looked happy, but Tori knew they could have gone around in circles indefinitely. It was going to take time to sort out, and she needed time to decide what she really wanted and how best to present it to Jeremy. Being caught on the fly had only made her panic, though she’d tried to cover it up as best she could.

She could compromise on a lot of things, but not on the basics. The baby would live here, with her. As far as his involvement went, that was negotiable. Now that he knew, she could hardly shut him out of everything and pretend he didn’t exist if that wasn’t what he wanted.

If she tried to cut him out of the baby’s life, she had the suspicious feeling he’d start throwing his weight around. And he had the money and connections to make things difficult. The fantasy bubble in which she’d held the memories of their time together was truly popped. It was like her mom said—if it seemed too good to be true, it probably was.

What a tightrope she was going to have to walk. Hopefully he was in town for only a few days.

He’d gone to check in to his room and she logged in to the reservations system to get the details of his stay. To her dismay, she discovered he’d booked twelve days. That took them well into December. And it was more than enough time for things to go seriously wrong. She tapped her fingers on her desk. How the heck was she supposed to navigate this?

She thought back to earlier, when she’d admitted flat out that she’d lose in a power struggle. His gray eyes had looked so shocked that she’d even think such a thing. He’d run his fingers through his hair, and his throat had bobbed as he swallowed. Her words had left their mark, and it boded well as far as being able to reach him. He wasn’t a cold and calculating monster, though she knew he was a tough negotiator when pushed. Watching him work closing deals last summer had shown her that, and she’d admired him for it at the time.

His wounded expression had also touched something in her heart she wished didn’t exist. She cared about him. Two weeks together in the summer had been more than enough time for her to develop feelings. Not love, certainly, but definitely affection. It hadn’t all been sexual. He’d been charming, and funny, and smart. In fact, he’d been nearly perfect. Even if she’d been absolutely fine knowing their time together would be no more than a whirlwind fling, it was hard to erase all of those memories and see him dispassionately as the father of her unborn child. He wasn’t just a sperm donor.

One morning they’d basked in the sunlight streaming through the bedroom window and he’d told her about why he loved real estate. It wasn’t just about the bargaining or the money. As his fingers had traced down her arm, he’d said it was about finding homes for people, places where they belonged and could be happy. And when he’d realized he’d let her in, he’d immediately backtracked and said it was just a big bonus that his clients were all stinkin’ rich.

But it had been a defense mechanism, she was sure. And she’d liked that glimpse into the man, and not just the fantasy.

Perhaps the best way to reach him was to approach the situation on a very human level. She could do that and still keep her other feelings locked away, right?

She put her hand on her tummy, wondering when she was going to start feeling the baby move. So far she had the bump but she hadn’t really felt much. A few times she wondered if she might be feeling flutterings of movement, but she’d been told they were probably just gas.

Either way, she’d do what she had to in order to make sure her baby was loved and secure.

Whatever it took. Even being super nice to Jeremy Fisher.

The mile-long beach in front of the Sandpiper Resort was beautiful, even in late November. The waves were now more gray than blue, and the wind was raw, but there was a wildness to it that Jeremy loved, and the sound of the waves soothed his troubled mind.

Because he was, indeed, very troubled.

He’d left his running shoes on, meaning he’d have to shake them out later as the sand, even in the November chill, was still soft and thick. The wind whipped his hair around and made his jacket billow out behind him. Just a few months ago he’d walked this very beach with Tori. She’d worn a red bikini and had left her hair down, damp with seawater. They’d had so much fun; fun that had been missing in his life for too long. For those two weeks he’d put his troubles aside and let himself go. She had, too, or at least he’d thought so. They’d shared a blanket on the beach and soaked in the sun’s rays; nibbled at a picnic prepared by the hotel kitchen; plucked seashells out of the damp sand that she said she was going to keep in her bathroom.

And then she’d taken him to her house and they’d spent hours exploring each other.

Just the memory made his body react, and he briefly considered jumping into the ocean, fully clothed, to cool off.

It had been easy being with her, because he’d known all along that he’d be leaving again. She wasn’t his usual type of woman; his family and his money generally ensured that his dates were not of the small-town, girl-next-door variety, and being with her had been utterly refreshing. Now he’d be tied to her forever, because she was having his kid and there was no way on earth he would abandon his own child. He’d never planned to have any children, but he had to deal with the reality that he was going to be a father, and he was determined to be a better one than his own had been.

But how could he demand that Tori uproot her life? That wasn’t fair either, and as much as Jeremy was used to getting what he wanted, he was a fair man. Or at least he wanted to think so.

He needed a plan. He was having a hard time formulating one because he was still stuck on the idea that he was going to be a dad.

The idea was terrifying.

The raw wind bit through his jacket right to his bones as he carried on down the beach. His own parents had divorced when he was two, and he barely remembered his dad. Too often he’d been a pawn in battles between his parents, to the point where he’d often felt like a commodity rather than a son. His mother had remarried when he was four, and his siblings had been much older than him. By the time he’d started high school, his sister had been eighteen and starting college, and his brother, ten years his senior, had already been working in Silicon Valley. Jeremy had gone to prep school, away from home.

From the outside he’d certainly looked like a child of great privilege. There had always been money. There hadn’t been a lot of love or warm fuzzies.

He stopped and stared out into the white-topped waves. Yesterday he’d watched as Tori cradled her gently swelling tummy and he’d seen the beatific expression on her face. That sort of maternal affection was completely foreign to him.

No matter what, he wouldn’t take this baby away from her. And he or she would never be a pawn in some battle. Not if he could help it.

He started the mile-long walk back to the resort, his thoughts still churning. It would be different if Tori forced his hand. What if she tried to shut him out? He wouldn’t try to shut her out, but he wasn’t about to let her keep him from being a part of the baby’s life. He didn’t want his child growing up feeling unloved, or that he didn’t care. The situation had to be handled with delicacy, that was for sure.

When he was almost to the resort, he looked up and saw a figure moving around the deck that in the summer had been a patio restaurant. The woman wore a heavy coat and a headband covered her ears, a dark ponytail keeping her hair tamed and out of her face in the brisk wind. The swirl of tension in his gut told him that it was Tori, even though her back was to him. On closer examination, he saw that she was stringing lights along the railing.

He jogged up to the main resort building and climbed the steps leading from the beach to the deck. “That’s a cold job,” he called out, and her head snapped up, the strands of lights forgotten in her fingers.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I didn’t hear you over the wind and waves.”

He opened the gate and stepped onto the deck. He had gloves on his hands, but her fingers were bare and red. “You should be wearing gloves.”

“They make my fingers too clunky,” she answered, going back to the string of lights.

Jeremy moved forward and took them from her, then removed his gloves, tucked them beneath his arm, and took her hands in his. They were icy cold, and he chafed his fingers over hers to warm them. “Here. Put these on.”

“Jeremy, I’m—”

“Shh. They’re warm.” He tugged the gloves over her fingers. They were too big, but she flexed her hands and he knew the material still held some of his heat.

Moments ago he’d been ready to take her on if she decided to play hardball. Now he was giving her gloves for her cold fingers. For a moment he wondered if he was a weak man, but then he reminded himself that being on good terms would only help matters in the end.

“Let me do a few of these. You show me how you want them.”

“I’m just looping them on each post, see?” She held out a hand full of tie wraps. “Putting these on them, and snipping the ends with cutters.”

Unease slipped through him. She was looping them, certainly, but he went back and saw how she did it and tried to re-create the same positioning of the string, though it took a few tries. And the tie wrap… He figured out that one end went through the other and he had to pull it tight, but it was a foreign sensation. He was not a handy kind of guy, in any sense. Someone had always done that sort of thing at home. He had many talents. Being handy was not one of them.

Ugh. He really was a spoiled brat, wasn’t he?

She reached into her pocket for her cutters, then tightened his wrap a bit more and snipped the end. “Have you never hung Christmas lights?” she asked.

“First time,” he admitted, pulling on the strand until it was taut again. His fingers were already getting cold; how had she managed to put this many up without getting frostbite? But he pushed on because he didn’t want her to think he was a wimp or completely inept. Together they positioned, fastened and clipped the lights into place. Once they traded gloves so he could warm his hands, too, and then he put the lights up and over the arched entrance to the deck. “Will anyone even come out here?” he asked, trying hard not to shiver. He was pretty sure he couldn’t feel his ears anymore.

“No. But we always put the lights up and a lit tree out here. It looks nice from the beach and also from the dining room.”

He clapped his hands together for warmth. “You mean we still have to do a tree?”

“What’s the matter, not used to the cold?”

New York got plenty cold in the winter, but the icy wind off the ocean was going right through him today. When he didn’t answer right away, she laughed—a soft, musical sound that suddenly made him feel lighter. “Your ears are pink. We’d better get you inside. Don’t worry, we set up the tree inside and then move it out. Thanks for your help, though. My fingers appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” Despite the cold, it had been kind of fun.

She looked at her watch. “It’s nearly noon. Do you want to come in for some lunch? Or do you have appointments?”

He shrugged. “I don’t have an appointment until two, so I have an hour to spare.”

She opened the door that led from the deck to the dining room. “Our chef, Neil, does a curried carrot and ginger soup that is amazing. Definitely cold-weather comfort food.”

They went inside and he watched as Tori went to the bar and spoke to the server behind the counter. When she came back, she led them to a table near the fireplace and hung her jacket over a chair. “Phew,” she said, sitting down. “I’m not going to lie, that fire feels wonderful.”

There were a handful of guests in the dining room, but it was otherwise quiet. “Not your busy time of year, huh?”

She shook her head as he took the chair opposite her. “No. The weekends are busier. People out for dinner, and our Sunday brunch is amazing.” She looked up, and he got caught in her eyes again. Today her hazel eyes looked more green than brown, and her thick lashes made them seem bigger. He wondered if their baby would have her eyes.

“I’ll have to try it while I’m here.”

He sat back when the waitress came over with a basket of warm rolls and pats of butter. “Your lunch will be right out, Ms. Sharpe.”

“Thank you, Ellen.”

Tori looked up at him, a smile on her lips. “You warming up yet? Your ears aren’t quite so pink.”

He chuckled a little, his gaze stuck on her lips. Just his luck he couldn’t quite forget kissing them. There could be none of that now. “The fire is helping. The wind is so bitter today.”

“So why were you walking the beach?” she asked, picking up a roll and breaking it in half.

“Thinking,” he replied, meeting her gaze. “I had a lot to think about.”

“And did you come to any conclusions?”

Her voice was calm, but he could see a tightening around her mouth. She was nervous about this, too. It gave him a little comfort. The lives they’d both built—separately—were about to be disrupted.

“A few,” he admitted. “But I’m not sure you’re ready to hear them.”

CHAPTER THREE

UNEASE SETTLED THROUGH HER, making her limbs feel heavy and her breath short. This was never going to be easy, but despite all the thinking she’d been doing the last twenty-four hours, she felt ill-prepared for whatever was going to come out of his mouth next.

She nibbled on a corner of the roll, though her appetite was diminishing rapidly. “Oh?” she asked, keeping her voice deceptively light.

He met her gaze and held it. “One thing is for sure, Tori—I can’t go back to New York and pretend that this isn’t happening. I’m going to be a father. I’m not going to abandon you or my child.”

Tears stung her eyes and she looked down at the napkin in her lap. It was lovely to know that he accepted the pregnancy and wanted to be a part of their baby’s life. But it stung that they were no more than an obligation to him; that he was tied to them out of duty and DNA and not affection.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“And whatever you need, you only have to ask. You need to know I’m willing and able to support you financially.”

Financially. She clenched her fingers into fists under the table.

“Tori?”

She’d been silent so long he reached over and touched her arm, prompting her to look up. She took a deep breath, met his gaze and said quite clearly, “Thank you, Jeremy. But I’m quite able to provide for us.”

His expression grew puzzled as his brows knit together. “Then what do you want from me?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. Time, I suppose. To figure this out.”

He looked at her tummy and then back to her face, and a hint of a smile quirked at the corner of his lips. “Well, we are on a bit of a ticking clock, don’t you think? And it’s halfway to midnight.”

She raised her eyebrow in response. “I’m hardly Cinderella. Or a damsel in distress that needs rescuing.”

At that moment their lunch was served; piping-hot bowls of soup along with bacon-and-avocado paninis that seemed to satisfy some sort of craving of Tori’s right now.

“This smells delicious.”

“It is. I’m kind of addicted to these sandwiches. I’m not sure if it’s the avocado or the bacon that the baby likes so much, but it’s my favorite.”

They ate in silence for a few moments, and then Jeremy spoke again. “This feels so weird. Last summer…”

His voice trailed away and Tori’s cheeks heated. Last summer she’d felt about ten years younger and stupidly carefree. Days on the beach, toes in the sand, love in the middle of the day. She’d told herself she deserved a bit of fun, but she’d been careless. They both had.

“Last summer was just…what it was.” She wiped her lips with her napkin and tried to calm the rapid beat of her heart. “We got carried away. We were impulsive, and now there are consequences. We can’t be impulsive this time, Jeremy. We have to make the right decisions.”

“I know.”

She thought of her mom, who was both dismayed at how the pregnancy had occurred and ecstatic about being a grandmother. There were just the two of them now. She was an only child, a bit of a miracle baby, really, since her mother had been told she’d probably never conceive. Her grandparents lived in Newfoundland and she rarely saw them. Her father had died two years earlier. Tori felt a certain responsibility to be there for her mom. Without Tori, Shelley had no family.

She looked at Jeremy. “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

“One of each.”

The topic had never come up during their few weeks of bliss. Now that Tori thought back to those sun-soaked days, she realized that anytime she had gotten close to talking about his family, he’d changed the subject. Even now, he didn’t offer any explanations. Just “one of each.”

“And your parents? Are they both back in New York?”

“My mother is in Connecticut. My father lives in the Virgin Islands. They divorced when I was little.”

He picked up his sandwich and took a bite, but his face was set in a grim expression even as he chewed. Her heart sank a bit. It would be a shame if he wasn’t close with his family. What would that mean for their child?

“Cousins? Favorite aunts and uncles?”

He swallowed and wiped his fingers on his napkin. “What’s the point of this family tree examination?”

All the warmth from earlier was gone from his voice, and she withdrew a little bit. “We just…don’t know much about each other, that’s all. And it seems strange under the circumstances. Besides…” She lifted her chin a bit. “These people are going to be our baby’s family, too. Isn’t it right I know more about them?”

He took a drink of water and put down his glass, then placed his napkin on the table as he rose. “I’m sorry, but I really should head out to my appointment. Thank you for lunch.”

He took a step to pass the table and she reached out to put a hand on his arm. “Is your family so bad you won’t even talk about them?”

He looked down at her, and she couldn’t read his eyes at all. They were flinty gray and shuttered, keeping her from seeing anything too personal. “It’s not something to discuss over lunch.”

“Then later?”

He moved his arm out from beneath her hand. “I’ve got to go, Tori.”

The way he said her name at the end told her he wasn’t as closed off as he appeared. Perhaps what they really needed was some time away from prying eyes to discuss properly what the pregnancy meant—to both of them.

“Drive carefully,” she replied and shifted in her seat, letting him off the hook.

When he was gone she tried to finish her sandwich, but her appetite had gone with him.

The hot shower was exactly what Jeremy needed after the long day. This afternoon he’d visited three different properties along the South Shore, looking for the perfect home for his client, Branson Black, who was also a former classmate and one of his closest friends. Black was nearly as rich as Jeremy, but he wanted little to do with the money, which Jeremy couldn’t quite understand. His instructions were to find a property with a view of the ocean and away from just about everything else. Jeremy was all about giving the client what he or she wanted, but he worried that Bran was trying to hide away from life and not just recover from recent trauma.

Still, he’d found one that he felt was perfect, and under three million. It even came with its own lighthouse, which, of course, was defunct but still lent the property an air of history and uniqueness. He had appointments to see several others during the week, though, before narrowing the choices down to send to Bran.

Being next to the ocean all day, walking the properties, had chilled him to the bone. He’d warmed himself during walk-throughs and by cranking the heat in the car, but the hot shower and warm hotel were more than welcome once he returned.

The hotel might be cozy, but Jeremy’s thoughts were not.

He kept messing things up with Tori. He should have known that she’d start asking questions about his family. She was that type. Girl-next-door, nurturing, home-and-family type. He’d always been able to spot them because theirs had been so very different from his own upbringing. Last summer she’d talked about her mom a lot, and missing her dad, and Jeremy had always changed the subject. She didn’t need to know that his dad had walked out when he was a little boy and that his mother hadn’t been much of a mother at all; she’d left that to the nannies—plural, because his mother tended to hire young women looking to gain some “adventure” by working for rich families for a year or two and then moving on. Some had been nice. Some had been tolerable, more excited about the money and their days off. The last one had had an affair with his stepfather, and that had been the end of the nannies and the beginning of the talk about boarding school. His stepdad had stayed. Jeremy had been sent away.

But it had been a blessing, really. When he’d finished middle school, he’d been sent to out-of-the-way Merrick Hall. And there he’d found his family—of sorts. Including Branson.

He tugged on a warm sweater and called down to room service for dinner. When it was delivered forty minutes later, he opened the door to find Tori’s soft face behind the cart.

“Room service,” she said softly, and offered a timid smile.

He couldn’t find it in himself to stay irritated. He opened the door wide and let her in, watching her hips sway as she moved the cart into the room. He swallowed thickly. Tori Sharpe was no less attractive now than she’d been five months ago. There was a subtle sexuality about her that was alluring. And when she turned around and the gentle swell of her tummy was visible, his heart gave a little thump. That was his child in there. He had no idea what to do but he knew for sure he wanted to be a better dad than his own had been.

“It’s late. I didn’t think you’d still be working,” he said, then realized how critical he must sound right now. “Thank you for bringing it,” he added, trying to be less of a jerk. After all, he’d walked out of their lunch like a coward.