Marrying My Billionaire Boss

by Lee, Nadia

  “You didn’t see just missionary in the statue, did you?” A naughty gleam sparks in her eyes.

  My body reacts instantly, my cock going hard. “No, but maybe we shouldn’t do too much. You’re pregnant, and we need to be careful until you get checked out by an obstetrician.”

  She frowns. “You think?”

  “Yeah. Definitely. A baby is a serious business. It’s better these days, but women used to die all the time.”

  “You’re so morbid.” Her tone is surprisingly gentle.

  “It’s just that I’m involved with health care. I know a lot about it, including its history. Even today, things can go wrong.” The hospitals and clinics my family funds treat so many cases like that. They’re heartbreaking, and I can’t let anything happen to Evie or our baby. “Besides, you fainted this afternoon. You don’t know what it did to me to see you just collapse like that.” I put a hand over my chest. “Unless you want to take a decade off my life, don’t do it again.”

  “I’ll try not to.” She sighs. “As for the other fun stuff, I guess we can ration it out.”

  “Yes. Trust me, this is frustrating my dick more than it’s frustrating you.”

  That makes her laugh, as intended. “But only until tomorrow. I’m definitely going to see my doctor, no matter what kind of bribe I need to offer.”

  * * *

  Nate

  Some random sound pricks me awake. I open my eyes, listening and wondering what time it is. The bedside clock says it’s barely three. Evie’s sleeping, curled next to me. She breathes so quietly that it takes me a moment to realize she really is inhaling and exhaling.

  Another bump outside. Tension grips my body. The security system in my house is top of the line. It shouldn’t let intruders in.

  No. Wait. Is that Mari out in the hall? She might need something. I should go check, make sure she doesn’t trip and hurt herself in the unfamiliar space.

  I slip out of bed and put on a robe from the closet before padding downstairs. There. She’s standing in the kitchen, holding a glass of water. Her gray hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail. There’s something about her that’s tough, but fair and down to earth. Honest. It’s obvious Evie took after her mom a lot. Then I note the threadbare pea-green pajamas on her thin frame and make a mental note to get her something nice and luxurious.

  “Mari, you finding everything you need?”

  She slowly turns her head toward me. “Yes.”

  No smile. A small frown forming. Okay. She’s the disapproving mother-in-law. I thought it was the fathers-in-law who didn’t care for their daughters’ choice of husbands. On the other hand, I shouldn’t stereotype. Just look at Court’s mom.

  I should get everything out in the open, smooth over whatever issues she has with me. I want Evie happy, and getting along with her mom is going to be a factor. “You know, we didn’t get to talk at all, even at the party. I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

  “I’m wondering what’s going on with my daughter. She’s not the impulsive type.”

  I laugh. “Tell me about it.”

  “And yet I had to learn about her wedding from a gossipy neighbor. It’s clear Evie married you out of impulse—or maybe because she’s pregnant. And obviously it’s been stressful. She passed out at the party.”

  “Yeah. I feel terrible about that. I should’ve been more attentive.” For a second I debate telling her we were likely already married when we got ourselves pregnant, but decide against it. That would sound even worse, especially if she ever learns that we don’t remember either the wedding ceremony or the wedding night.

  “I care about Evie very much,” I say instead. “I respect her brain, admire her beauty and love that she’s hardworking and honest. I plan to make her happy.” And I mean that. Every time I make her smile, I feel like the most accomplished man ever.

  Mari’s expression doesn’t change. “The scariest man of all is the earnest jerk. They hit you when you least expect it.”

  I stare, stunned. What makes her think I’m a jerk? And not just any jerk, but a Class-A, Sneaky as Fuck Jerk?

  “I’ve read articles about you,” she adds. “I’m sure there’s some journalistic exaggeration, but where there’s smoke…” She purses her mouth.

  Tabloids. “They are so much worse than the reality,” I say. “You know how it is.”

  “Actually, I don’t. I’ve never had to deal with anyone like you. And I worry about Evie. She’s too innocent and trusting.”

  “Her trust isn’t misplaced, ma’am.”

  “It isn’t?” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her cool eyes. “Do you know the origin of the term ‘con man’?”

  “No,” I say, wondering where she’s going with this. Is she trying to warn me somebody’s about to fleece me blind?

  “The ‘con’ in ‘con man’ comes from ‘confidence.’ Using lies and deception to gain someone’s confidence and then betraying them in the end. And I’m not sure how honest of a man you are.”

  My throat closes. I still have those two lies I haven’t fessed up to Evie yet. Yeah, so they’re minor ones—the one about my smoothie and my inability to pick out my own clothes—but they’re still lies. And they’re like a double garrote around my neck, choking me, especially when Mari’s sharp gaze is pinning my face.

  She lets out a sudden sigh, her shoulders drooping. “Maybe you don’t mean to hurt her now. Maybe you think it’s not going to be like your previous relationships. But it’s my job to worry anyway. She’s everything to me.”

  I cringe inwardly. If she’d seen some of the crazy shit that I’ve done, of course she’d think I’m a good-for-nothing, lucky-as-hell bastard who happened to be born to a rich family. Hell, I’m embarrassed about some of it.

  But her disapproval is coming from the fact that she loves her daughter, and I can’t fault her for that. “Then I’ll simply have to prove myself—do everything in my power to keep Evie happy. All I ask is that you withhold judgment until—actually, make that unless I screw up.”

  For a brief moment, Mari’s expression softens. “That’s…acceptable.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Evie

  I’m the first to wake up. Of course, I’m used to getting up earlier than Nate anyway. I roll on my side, prop my head on my hand and look down at his face. He looks so relaxed and peaceful. His mouth is soft—and just slightly curved upward at the corners. Must be having a great dream. Maybe a sex dream about me.

  I wish he were just a little more selfish about his needs. But his refusal to go for a second round last night meant a lot to me, especially when he explained why. He’s been managing so many hospitals, and I’m sure he’s seen and heard about all the things that can go wrong with a pregnancy. I lay my hand over my belly. Besides, it’s good to be on the cautious side. I’m sure my doctor’s going to clear me for sex and every other normal activity I can think of. I’m healthy as a horse. The fainting yesterday was a total aberration.

  Quietly, I sneak out of the bed, then out of habit, I walk into the closet and pick out a sky-blue polo shirt and jeans for him. He doesn’t have any appointments, but it’s always best to dress him somewhat nicely. Just in case.

  That done, I put on my night shirt and shorts, then make my way downstairs. I’m hungry and need to take better care of myself. No more eating only a single piece of toast all day or any of that stuff. I go check the delivery chute. There’s a cooler full of fresh greens for Nate’s shake. He hasn’t had one for so long, basically since his mom’s been here, and we have a huge pile of kale. I should toss out all the wilted ones.

  At the very bottom of the bag is a head of broccoli. It’s a deep green and extra firm. I inhale it. Smells incredible. I never knew a smell could be so tempting.

  My mouth starts to water as I wash the veggies like I routinely do in the morning. I put everything into the blender, let the appliance work its magic, then dump the concoction into a glass. The thick smoothie rises, a frosty, gliste
ning column of forest green. The smell somehow isn’t pungent like usual. Instead, it’s alluring, seductive, a cruciferous siren calling my name.

  Unable to help myself, I swipe a finger around the inside of the blender and taste it.

  Oh. My. God.

  The flavor explodes on my tongue, the taste sweet and refreshing. How can vegetables be like this? The last time I tried a green smoothie, it was like licking sewage. What’s going on? Did the delivery service change the type of kale? I check the leftover leaves. They look the same. Is it the broccoli? No…can’t be.

  I look down at my belly. Is it the baby?

  Quite possibly. He—I decide to settle on he, because he and/or she is mouthful and I’m not going to have a girl just because Barron says he wants one—could’ve gotten his taste for the green goo from Nate.

  Saliva pools in my mouth, and suddenly I feel like I’ll die if I don’t have a shake for myself. I make one using the remaining kale and broccoli.

  Just then, Nate walks in, wearing a plain white shirt and shorts. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning.” If words could bounce, mine would be hitting the ceiling. It’s so exciting we can actually share his favorite breakfast! “Look, I made you your shake again!”

  He looks at me like he can’t decide if he should cry or hug me. I knew he would be touched.

  “Um. I thought we’d make something else for your mom.” He clears his throat.

  “She doesn’t really eat breakfast. Just coffee is fine.”

  “Uh-huh.” Nate eyes two servings of shake on the counter. I can see some internal debate fleeting through his gorgeous face.

  Finally, he says, “Look, Evie, you don’t have to drink one just to suit me. I don’t even really li—”

  “Nonsense! It tastes amazing! I love it!” I hand him his glass, and take mine. “Cheers!” I clink our glasses.

  Nate smiles brightly—probably thrilled I’m doing a better job of ensuring that I get sufficient nutrients—and starts drinking.

  Pleased with myself, I chug mine down. I can feel all the antioxidant goodness and hydration coursing through my veins, infusing me with super health. Okay, maybe it isn’t happening instantly—it hasn’t even been digested—but it’s lovely anyway.

  “I can see why you insist on this every morning.” I put a hand over my belly. “I think the baby’s taking after Daddy.”

  “I’m…” Nate’s smile is even wider now. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. Just be happy.”

  “I’m happy. Very, very happy.” He clears his throat. “Can we have some coffee?”

  “Actually, I can’t. I don’t think I’m supposed to.”

  “Oh.” He looks concerned again. “Are you sure you don’t want anything else, though? Maybe yogurt? Berries?”

  I beam at him. “I’m fine. Really.”

  He nods slowly. “Well then. Let me get the coffee started.”

  “I can do that for you,” I say out of habit.

  “It’s okay. Really, you don’t have to be like my assistant here.” He goes to the coffeemaker and makes enough for two.

  “But I am your assistant.”

  “Sure, at the office. But we’re at home, and this is the weekend.”

  Ah. That’s sweet, I think with a smile, although there’s no way I’m letting him select his own clothes.

  “I can make my own coffee.” As soon as the brewing is done, he downs his quickly.

  I don’t know why he’s in such a hurry. I don’t mind if he wants to take his time and enjoy his java.

  “I’m going to shower,” he says.

  I grin. “Let me go with you.”

  Just then, Mom comes down, and I realize that Morning Shower Fun isn’t going to happen. I should spend some time with her, especially since she doesn’t look any less worried. She’s trying to hide it, but I know her too well not to notice.

  “Actually, you go ahead,” I say to Nate.

  He looks at me, then at Mom, sighs slightly and goes upstairs.

  Mom’s in a white T-shirt and soft jeans. She takes a stool by the counter, and I serve her the rest of the coffee. She takes it black. Says it’s better that way, but I also suspect she likes it that way because it’s cheaper—no need for cream or sugar.

  I take a stool next to hers, running my sweaty palms on my shorts. Why do I feel like I’m back in high school and got caught sneaking out late? “Hi, Mom.”

  “Morning, Evie.” She’s quiet, almost too calm. It’s the voice she uses when she wants to talk about something I might not want to hear.

  “Did you have a good sleep?” I ask, even though I’m sure that isn’t what she wants to talk about.

  “Yes.” She takes a couple sips of her coffee. “This is good.”

  “Nate likes to indulge.”

  She looks at the dark brew, then at me. Her gaze is so penetrating, I’m afraid she’s reading every thought in my head. “You really care about him.”

  I adore him, but I don’t want to say that to Mom yet. Nate should hear it first. “He’s a great guy.”

  She nods. “He seems to be nice to you.”

  “Hang around a little while, and you’ll see.” And I really do want her to spend time with us as a couple. Besides, I want to take her shopping and buy her something nice. Maybe new clothes or shoes. Maybe a mani pedi. She hasn’t splurged on herself in ages.

  “I can’t. I need to go back.”

  The announcement hits me like a slap, and I suddenly feel like crying. I thought she’d be spending at least a week. Maybe I should’ve asked and made sure, but I was so stressed and frazzled about meeting Nate’s family that I never did, just assumed. We haven’t seen each other since I left Dillington, and surely she has enough vacation days saved up. If not, I can make it up for her. I have savings now.

  Guilt rears its head. I didn’t contact her—no text or calls. I was too wrapped up in maintaining the happily married couple façade. And I didn’t know what to say to Mom about that, so I just told myself I’d talk to her later…later…until…

  I put a hand over my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, baby, it isn’t your fault. Betty’s been out sick.” She sighs. “Breast cancer.”

  I gasp. “Oh my God. Is she going to be okay?” Betty was one of the very few who stood by me through the Chadwick ordeal.

  “It’s treatable, but it won’t be easy. I just want to be in town. Help keep an eye on her, make sure she’s okay.”

  “Of course. I’m sorry to hear it,” I say, wishing I could be there for Betty too, after all she’s done for me. “Is she getting good care?”

  “The doctors are doing what they can. She’s going to beat it. She’s a fighter.”

  “Yes, she is.” I squeeze Mom’s hand. I know cancer treatment is expensive, and I can’t help but think maybe I can ask Nate if the foundation can do something for Betty. “If you or Betty need anything, just call or text anytime. I’ll do everything in my power to help.”

  Mom gives me a small smile. “You’re such a sweet child. Always were.” She smooths my hair from my face, tucking tendrils behind my ears. “Your husband is a very wealthy man. A powerful man. He has a lot of powerful people around him, too. His friends. His family.”

  She isn’t being too obvious, but I don’t miss the subtle emphasis she puts on “his.” “Mom, what are you trying to say?”

  “I’m just saying you need to be careful.” She bites her lip, something she does whenever she’s debating how much to say. “People who never treated you well might come out of the blue to be friendly. There are so many who want to take advantage.”

  Oh. Maybe she heard about Chad’s rather pointless call. “Mom, I’m not a kid anymore. I can tell the difference between people being genuine and people trying to fake a friendship.”

  She gives me a slight smile, patting my hand. “I know you’re smart, Evie. I’m probably fretting over nothing.”

  I
shake my head, not wanting Mom to feel bad about it. “Probably, but I love it that you still worry about me. It means you still love me.” I turn my hand over so I can squeeze hers. “Besides, Nate is used to dealing with people with, let’s say, less-than-genuine intent. So he’s not going to let anybody use me like that either.”

  Something like relief flickers in her eyes. “That’s true. Yes, you’re right.” She looks up the stairs. “He would know how to handle something like that.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Evie

  Nate and I take Mom to the airport, where Nate’s jet is waiting to take her back. I hug her tightly, asking her to come back anytime. Nate says the same.

  Mom jokes that no husband wants to put up with a mother-in-law, but he says it’s because none of them has Mari Parker as their mother-in-law with his most charming smile. Then he tells her few amusing anecdotes from his childhood and eventually has her laughing, the sound light and easy.

  I stare, wondering when the last time I heard her sound like that was. And the answer is: never. She’s always been serious. But then, our lives were hard, just one tiny misstep away from missing a meal or even homelessness. We’ve been extraordinarily lucky that neither of us ever got seriously sick or injured.

  “Thank you,” I say to Nate as we step into our home. It still amazes me that this beautiful place is mine too.

  “For what?”

  I turn around and hold his hands in mine. “Making my mother laugh like that. She’s sacrificed so much for me, and I didn’t realize how much until now,” I say quietly, slightly embarrassed at how selfish I’ve been.

  He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t make it sound like you’ve failed somehow. She adores you. She lived and worked hard for you, and she’s proud of you. And you know what? How about if we send her and her friend on a nice cruise for Christmas? A suite with a butler, concierge service, the works. They can cruise the Caribbean. And get pampered.”

  His offer is generous, and I feel my heart grow warm. Smiling, I hug him. “Thank you. But…” I sigh. “I don’t know if she can. Do you know why she had to leave early?”