The Illegitimate Billionaire (Whiskey Bay Brides Book 4; Billionaire & Babies)

by Barbara Dunlop

  Deacon was her boyfriend.

  Seven

  Deacon finished reading a story to James and Ethan. He’d told them their mommy had a headache and was going to bed early. Luckily, they didn’t ask any questions. They both seemed content to let Deacon give them a bath—an exciting experience for Deacon—and get them into their pajamas and tucked into bed.

  Ethan had fallen asleep during the last pages of Wilbur the Little Lost Pony, and James was giving slow blinks, looking cozy under his rocket ship comforter. Deacon quietly closed the book and left their bedroom.

  He made his way to the opposite end of the hall, through the open double doors to Callie’s room. She was sitting up in bed, with a tablet on her lap and a small white bandage on her forehead. She was wearing a pretty pastel nightie with lace around the shoulders and across the neckline. Her hair was lustrous in the yellow lamplight.

  “You’re awake,” he said softly.

  “It’s only eight o’clock.”

  He came forward to sit on the edge of the bed. “Sleep would be good for you.”

  “I have a boo-boo,” she said. “I’m not sick.”

  “You almost got a concussion.” He couldn’t help himself, he smoothed her hair back on the uninjured side of her forehead.

  “I came nowhere near to getting a concussion.” She paused, and her eyes shadowed. “Thanks to you.”

  “I’m just glad you were okay.” He moved closer and drew her gently to him.

  She set aside the tablet and hugged him back. She felt perfect in his arms.

  “Did the boys fall asleep?” she asked against his shoulder.

  “Ethan did. James is almost there. I read them the pony story.”

  There was a smile in her voice. “They love that one.”

  “They’re amazing kids.”

  “I’m so lucky to have them.” She wiggled against him, then suddenly drew back. “What is that?” She pointed to his shirt pocket.

  It was the ring box bulging out against her.

  The circumstances were hardly ideal. He knew he should wait a couple of days. He knew he should give her a chance to feel better. He knew he should do it somewhere more romantic.

  He wanted a yes.

  Above everything else, he wanted a yes.

  But he suddenly didn’t want to wait another second.

  He let his emotions rule his judgement and reached into his pocket. He extracted the box and handed it to her.

  Looking half perplexed, half intrigued, she flipped it open.

  Her expression froze as she stared at the diamond ring.

  He knew immediately that he’d made a mistake, and he had to fix it somehow. “I know this might seem sudden. But, Callie, if one thing has become clear to me these past weeks, it’s my feelings for you. I’m crazy about you. I’m crazy about your sons. We’re good together. We belong together. We can have such an amazing and wonderful life together.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “Are you...”

  “Marry me, Callie. Make me the happiest man in the world.”

  “I...” She seemed to stumble over her words. “When... Why... How...”

  “Why? Because you’re amazing. When? I think the second I saw you. And how, well, a very nice woman at the jewelry store helped me buy this.”

  “Deacon, this is...” She hadn’t said yes, but she hadn’t said no either. She was hesitating.

  He couldn’t tell if she was simply acting the part of a tentative, newly widowed woman, or if she thought another man, someone like Hank, would be better for her.

  “I can give you a fantastic life,” Deacon said. “Both you and the boys. You’ll have everything and anything you need.”

  Her voice was soft, cautious, nervous. “Do you love me, Deacon?”

  He couldn’t bring himself to utter the ultimate lie. “I am head over heels,” he said instead.

  “I love you, too.” Clearly, she was a woman who could go all in.

  He admired that, even as it put him slightly off balance.

  “Is that a yes?” he asked.

  “Yes. It’s a yes.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he gathered her close against him.

  “Don’t let me hurt you,” he said, restraining himself, trying to be gentle.

  “You’re not hurting me.”

  There was a sheen in her eyes as she drew back, holding out her hand. It trembled ever so slightly.

  As he took the ring and slipped it on, a cramp formed in the pit of his stomach.

  It was happening. She was going to marry him, and his impossible childhood fantasy was going to come true.

  He should have been thrilled.

  He should have been over the moon.

  But something didn’t feel right. No, something felt too right.

  Callie was too good at playing her part. She was taking his emotions along on the ride, and there seemed to be nothing he could do to stop it.

  “Make love to me, Deacon.”

  He hesitated, his conflicting emotions trampling all over each other. “I don’t want to hurt you,” was his excuse.

  But she stripped her nightie over her head. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

  She was beautiful. She was beyond beautiful. She was perfect.

  There was nothing he wanted more than Callie in his arms. He wanted this to be real. Once again, he asked himself, where was the harm? She was getting what she wanted. And he was definitely getting what he wanted.

  Why not delve completely into the fantasy?

  He kissed her mouth, wider, longer, deeper. He closed a hand over her breast, feeling her nipple bead into his palm. He firmed his forearm across her lower back, easing her down on the mattress, resting her head on the white pillow.

  The words I love you formed inside his brain. But he didn’t dare let himself go that far.

  His phone rang in his pocket. He knew deep down it would be Tyrell.

  He shut if off without looking, then he stripped off his clothes, pulled back the covers and lay down beside Callie.

  She cradled his face with her hands. “The boys adore you.”

  “I’ll do right by them.” He promised himself as much as he promised her.

  He’d bonded with her sons in a way he hadn’t expected. They’d be his responsibility from here on in. As his half nephews, they were his blood relatives on top of everything else. No matter what happened, he’d make sure they were cared for and protected forever.

  She kissed him. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Neither can I.” That part was the absolute truth.

  * * *

  Callie’s life galloped forward at breakneck speed.

  The Mobi Transportation project was still just an idea on paper, so Deacon wanted Callie and the boys to move to Hale Harbor. Deacon said it made sense to keep her house in Charleston, because they’d be back and forth quite often.

  At first she didn’t see how she could up and move out of Charleston. But Hannah eagerly offered to take over management of the bakery. Deacon confessed to having made another donation to the City Beautification Committee to get them to move the rose garden.

  At first Callie was stunned and annoyed that he’d gone against her wishes. But then she saw Hannah’s reaction, and she knew he’d solved a big problem for them. He’d also circumvented Hank. And, on Hannah’s behalf, Callie appreciated that. So she decided to forgive him.

  Before long, Callie realized that living in Hale Harbor was a realistic option.

  She’d expected they’d have a small wedding, but Deacon was in a hurry for that, too. He wanted to rush down to the courthouse and sign the paperwork. She found the idea sorely lacking in romance.

  But Deacon argued that couples were wrong to fixate on the wedding. Personally, he was focused on the
marriage, and he wanted to get to the heart of their relationship as quickly as possible.

  She had to admit, he actually made the courthouse idea sound romantic. She also had to admit she admired his practicality. She also admired his efficiency. And she found herself anxious to get started on their new life.

  So newly married, they’d landed at the small airport in Hale Harbor. Deacon had chartered a plane, explaining that the number of connections they’d need to get in and out of small airports would be hard on the boys.

  She hadn’t stopped to think about Deacon’s wealth before now. She knew he had money, but somehow, she hadn’t expected it to be at this level—maybe first-class tickets and maybe five star hotels, but chartering an entire jet? She experienced a new wave of uncertainty at the pace of everything.

  But when they arrived at his house, she was relieved. It was nice. It was beautiful. It was even generous in size. But it wasn’t a mansion. She’d been worried that he might have a household staff and a dozen luxury cars lined up in air-conditioned garages.

  Then when he showed her into the boys’ bedroom, her heart nearly burst.

  It was larger than their old bedroom, and the windows were in different places, and there was a connected bathroom, but otherwise, it was identical to their room in Charleston.

  “I wanted them to feel at home,” he told her as the boys hopped onto James’s bed.

  “How did you do this?” She took a step inside, even James’s rocket ship comforter and the train pictures hanging on the wall were the same.

  “I took some pictures and sent them to my housekeeper. She’s a miracle worker.”

  “You have a housekeeper?” Callie asked, getting nervous again.

  “She comes in a couple of times a week.”

  James scooted across the blue carpet to his dresser. “Our clothes go here.”

  “Don’t tell me you changed the carpets,” Callie said, realizing it was a near match to her house.

  Deacon shrugged. “They were getting worn anyway. I wanted to go all in.” He raised his voice a little. “If your mom wants to give you a bath, I’ll bring up your suitcases and unpack.”

  “You’re too much,” she said.

  She wanted to ask him exactly how much money he had to throw around on frivolous things, but the question was going to have to wait. It had been a very long day, and the boys were going to get cranky soon. She wanted to have them tucked into bed before exhaustion set in.

  By the time she had them bathed and toweled off, Deacon had their clothes unpacked and their pajamas laid out on the bed. Callie couldn’t help but appreciate the extra help. It took only minutes for the boys to be happily tucked into bed.

  Outside the boys’ room was a loft overlooking a curved staircase, with a spare room next door, facing out the front of the house. Past the staircase, a short hallway led to the master bedroom. It was magnificent, a very large room with a high ceiling, an adjacent sitting room, a huge master bathroom and a giant walk-in closet that was only about a third filled with Deacon’s suits and clothing.

  “This is gorgeous,” Callie said, turning to look from all angles.

  “It was one of the things that sold me on this house plan. I like space around me. I don’t like feeling cramped.”

  “When did you buy it?” she asked.

  “Three years ago. The company had a good year, and the dividend payment was unusually high. Besides, I’d never intended for my apartment to be permanent.”

  “Was it new when you bought it?” Callie hadn’t seen anything in the house that looked remotely worn.

  “I’d bought the building lot a while ago, so it was just a matter of finding the right plan. Do you want to unpack, or look around a bit first?”

  “Can I look around?”

  “You can do whatever you want.”

  She made her way back to the staircase, passing another loft that overlooked the two-story living room. At the bottom of the stairs, the foyer opened to a library on one side and a formal dining room on the other. Moving to the back of the house, she came to the two-story living room with an arched bank of windows facing the yard and connected to an open-concept kitchen, breakfast nook and family room.

  “There’s a covered porch off the family room.” Deacon flicked a switch and lit up a generously sized deck with padded all-weather furniture and a hot tub.

  “Is the hot tub secure?” The thought of Ethan accidentally falling in made her nervous.

  “I put a lock on the cover.”

  She turned to glance behind her, taking in the sparkling kitchen, the pristine family room furniture, the art work and fixtures.

  “I don’t know how to ask this,” she said, walking back, trailing her fingertips along the burgundy leather sofa.

  He followed. “Ask away.”

  She abruptly faced him. “I didn’t think... I mean, we never discussed... How, um, rich are you?”

  “On a scale of one to ten?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  His expression became a little guarded. “I have enough to support us.”

  It was a nonanswer.

  From what she’d seen, he had far more than enough to support them.

  She tried to put her concerns into words. “It’s a little... This wasn’t exactly what I was expecting.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, his lips pursing as if she’d annoyed him. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

  She didn’t understand. She struggled with how to phrase it. “I can’t help wondering how much my life is going to change.”

  “I didn’t really want to do this tonight,” he said.

  “This?”

  He kept talking. “I hoped we could have a little dignity about it.”

  “Dignity?”

  Was he secretive about his money? If he wanted to keep it private, she supposed she could live with that. But it was an odd way to start a marriage.

  “Why don’t you go first?” he said.

  The question baffled her. “Go first at what?”

  “Why did you hide Frederick’s money?”

  “Hide it where?”

  Did he mean by buying the bakery? That wasn’t hidden. And hidden from whom?

  “I think we’re past playing coy, Callie.”

  “Deacon, if you don’t want to talk about your money...”

  “I don’t want it to be one sided.”

  She peered at his expression, trying to figure out what was going on. “Okay...”

  “Good,” he said. “What’s your net worth?”

  The question confused her even more. He’d seen her house, her business. He knew her lifestyle.

  “You mean the house and the bakery?”

  Deacon looked impatient. “I mean Frederick’s money.”

  She cast around for an answer. The few thousand dollars in her savings account didn’t seem worth talking about.

  “Frederick didn’t have a life insurance policy,” she said. “Not with the injuries to his lungs.”

  “I meant his family money.”

  “What family money?”

  He threw up his hands. “This is getting us nowhere.”

  She was feeling as frustrated as he sounded. “Then tell me what you want? What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the Clarkson family fortune?”

  He was joking. He had to be joking.

  She waited for him to laugh, but he didn’t.

  She braced her hand on the back of the sofa. Something was terribly wrong with this conversation.

  * * *

  Deacon couldn’t figure out what Callie had to gain by continuing to pretend. They were married now. The deal was done.

  They’d played each other. But they’d both done it. They were both bringing something to the
table, and they were both getting what they wanted.

  “I know all about Frederick’s family,” he said. “So let’s just figure out how this is going to work.”

  She still didn’t drop the act. “What about Frederick’s family?”

  “I grew up in Hale Harbor.”

  She didn’t respond. If anything, she looked even more confused.

  “Everyone in Hale Harbor knows the Clarksons. The castle, the Port, their history, their money.”

  “Frederick’s family lives in Miami.”

  The statement stopped Deacon cold.

  Either she was the greatest actress on the planet, or she believed what she’d just said.

  Plus, there was no reason for her to have made that up. There was no benefit to that particular lie. Was there?

  “They don’t have a fortune,” she continued. “They sure don’t have a castle.”

  A feeling of unease crept into Deacon. If Frederick had lied to her, where had his money gone?

  Deacon frantically reframed a world where Callie hadn’t known about Frederick’s money.

  Her hold on the sofa tightened. Her expression hardened, and she gestured around the room. “Is this all a sham, Deacon? Are you a con artist? Are you under the impression that, by marrying me, you’ll get your hands on a fortune? Are you in debt, is that it?”

  “No!”

  “You didn’t want a prenup. I thought that was odd. I should have listened to myself.” She turned to leave the room.

  His brain was struggling to make sense of everything. “Callie, something’s wrong.”

  “You bet it is,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Frederick lied to you.”

  She gave a slightly hysterical laugh. “It’s you who lied, Deacon.” She kept walking.

  He rushed across the living room and caught up to her in the foyer.

  “You can divorce me,” she said. “And go find yourself some other rich woman to marry.”

  “I don’t want your money.”

  The front doorbell rang.

  “I’ll be out of here in the morning,” she told him.

  “Deacon?” a man’s voice called through the door.

  Deacon recognized Tyrell’s voice and swore under his breath.