Line: Alpha Billionaire Romance

by Colleen Charles

  “Yeah, so I told her years ago that I can’t be with her anymore, not when she’s living a life I don’t want any part of.”

  “I take it she hasn’t improved?” I asked.

  “No, not at all. Frankly, I’m concerned for our baby.” He sighed and looked like he was afraid to say anything else. “Then, she came to me a few months ago and told me she was pregnant. That changed everything. I’m not the kind of guy who can walk away from something like that. We hadn’t been together in years. One night. One mistake.”

  I respected that a lot, but it didn’t lessen my jealousy. I grabbed the pen from him and clicked it a few times, then placed it beside my ledgers. “How sure are you that the baby is yours?”

  “What do you mean? She says it’s mine,” he said, shrugging.

  “And you didn’t get a paternity test? No offense, but it sounds like Faith has a certain kind of lifestyle. Are you really going to trust her word on this? You should get a paternity test if only for your piece of mind.”

  And mine.

  “I trusted her.” Gabe scratched his chin. “Maybe — wait, yeah, you’re probably right. I’ve got to go.” He hopped off the chair and tugged his jeans down by the pockets. “I’ll be back later.”

  “What? Where are you going?” I rose too and swallowed my nerves. How could he leave now?

  Gabe pulled me into a hug and kissed my forehead, sending a spike of pleasure down my spine. “I’m going to make things right.”

  Chapter 28

  Gabe

  The brick mansion on Summit towered above me, literally hanging over a snow covered expanse of lawn, a true monument to excess. I’d never liked it. An ostentatious display by a narcissistic fuckwad.

  George Callahan. Faith’s Irish father. Where she’d inherited her auburn locks and her feisty temper.

  I squared my shoulders and ran up the twenty or so cobblestone stairs, careful to steer clear of the ice. The groundskeeper would probably get fired if George or his wife, Fran, saw it. I poked my finger against the pearly knob next to the massive oak door, complete with stained glass insert. Footsteps echoed on the other side of the door and it creaked open a second later.

  “Hi, Mister Gabe,” a lovely Hispanic woman answered the door wearing a ruffled, white apron.

  “Nice to see you, Rosaria,” I grinned at her. The housekeeper was way to good and kind for the likes of the new and improved Faith Callahan.

  “You finally decided to pay me a visit,” Faith said from the expansive, marble foyer. She stood on the landing of the curved staircase that wound upwards to the second floor. Even though she’d never looked more stunning with the glow of pregnancy filling out her sparse curves, I still couldn’t believe I’d fallen for her all those years ago. Memories of our time together were nothing but empty promises now.

  I walked toward her and entered the house, trying to keep my jaw from clenching. I needed to get Faith to agree to the paternity test and I’d come to realize that with her, I could catch more bees with honey than with vinegar.

  “I wasn’t sure I’d find you here,” I soothed. “I thought maybe you’d be at your condo.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Where else would I be? Mom’s already doting on me and fixing up one of the guest rooms as a nursery. She wants me to stay here with her and Daddy for the first couple of months. That way, I have Mom and Rosaria to help me with the late night feedings so I can get some sleep. Besides, if you visited your dad more often …”

  “This isn’t my life anymore,” I grunted the reply as I gestured to the ten thousand square foot house. Even when I’d lived on Summit before college, almost right across the street, it’d never felt safe like a real home, more like a prison of goddamn paternal expectations.

  “He’s not here,” Faith said, motioning me to follow her to the kitchen. She paused to stroke her pregnant belly and smiled. “I assume you’re here to see him and not me.”

  “Actually, I did really want to talk to George, but now that you’re here, we can chat. There’s something that’s been on my mind.” I walked behind her into the gourmet kitchen, filled with walnut cabinets and Italian tile. Faith was walking around her parent’s multi-million-dollar home like she owned the place when she’d never worked a day in her life. George might be an arrogant pain in the ass, but no one could begrudge his impressive work ethic. Clearly, Faith was desperate to stake her own claim.

  I was determined not to be that claim, now that Allegra was softening.

  God, Allegra.

  I’d never felt that way about a woman in my life and I’d known a few. Hard working, gorgeous, tough, feisty. All with her own life. Her own thing going on. There just wasn’t anything hotter than a woman who knew what she wanted and went after it with everything she had. And she wanted me as much as I wanted her. At least physically. I loved the way she looked at me, her body coiled with desire. The way her skin flushed and her breathing became shallow. How she couldn’t stop the visceral reaction of her body.

  For me.

  I cleared my throat, noticing that Rosaria had gone off on another task, leaving us alone.

  “Can I get you a drink? Scotch?” She smirked and took out a glass tumbler from the cupboard.

  “I’ll pass on the alcohol.”

  “Why, you on a diet or something?” She filled the tumbler with ice from the commercial fridge, then topped it up with water from the built in dispenser on the gleaming monstrosity.

  “It’s not even noon, Faith,” I replied. “I’ll take an ice water too.” She got another glass, filled it with ice cubes and water and slid it across the counter toward me. Even with the snowy weather outside, I still loved a cool drink. Must be my hot blood.

  “Do you remember that time we took the boat out down in Miami this summer? What a mess. A fun mess.”

  “Yeah,” I replied. I remembered that day well. Scalding hot temperatures and Faith in a white bikini that became see-through the minute she hit the water. We’d sipped Patron and taken George’s yacht out, gotten in trouble for it later, but what stood out was the memory of her flirting. The moment my back was turned she’d turned.

  We’d had fun back in high school and on family vacations and that wasn’t something I’d ever deny. But that was the past and Faith didn’t belong in my future. Now, my son …

  I glanced up and met her expectant gaze. Like her trip down memory lane would cause me to fall in a heap of adoring man at her Jimmy Choo clad feet.

  “A top ten night for us, don’t you think?” She winked at me and tipped the glass in my direction in salute. “I don’t suppose you recall how it ended?”

  With her trying to seduce me, succeeding, then sneaking off afterwards to find another party.

  “Faith, I want a paternity test,” I said.

  Her eyes widened and she spluttered on an ice cube, almost choking. She ejected it into her glass with a clink. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

  “You heard me,” I replied, “I want a paternity test. I want to know that the baby’s mine for sure.”

  Faith slapped the glass down on the countertop and flicked water off her hand. “A paternity test.”

  “That’s right. It’s a pretty common thing to do in situations like ours.” Not that I needed to rationalize it with her. My hormone infested, teenage self had been madly in love with this woman and she’d vaulted all over my heart like a fucking gymnast on crack.

  And I wouldn’t let her do the same to my budding relationship with Allegra. I didn’t want to raise someone else’s baby. I had a right to know for sure if Faith’s baby carried my blood.

  “I won’t do it. And why should I?” Faith demanded, then sidled forward and looped her arms around my waist. Another blatant attempt at distraction. And manipulation. “We belong together.”

  I detached her like I would a piece of lint. “No, we don’t. And I want the paternity test, Faith.”

  She drew her lips into a thin line. “This is because of her, isn’t it? That slu
t you’re fucking.”

  “That’s rich coming from you. Have some respect for your own condition. Even if the baby can’t understand your words, he can feel your anger, sense your tone,” I snapped, then jammed my mouth shut. She wasn’t worth getting riled up over.

  “So this scarlet devil, this Jezebel, has somehow convinced you that I might not be carrying your child. What a bitch. Don’t you see? She’s just trying to manipulate you.”

  You’re trying to manipulate me. And you won’t succeed this time.

  Faith growled, and paced back and forth in front of me, belly protruding underneath her tight cotton shirt. Almost like she’d had some kind of sixth sense that I was coming and had dressed to expose her best assets.

  “I have to go. But I’ll be in touch about the test,” I replied, sparing a moment to look her straight in the eye. Not backing down.

  “I won’t do it, Gabe. There’s no reason for me to do it.” Faith called out to my retreating back. “I won’t do a paternity test.”

  I turned. “Why not?”

  Faith’s gaze flicked from left to right, searching for a valid reason. “Because,” she said, then grasped at her belly again, “because it might hurt the baby. They’ll stick a needle in him to do that and I won’t allow it.”

  I frowned at her. “I’m pretty sure paternity testing has advanced since the turn of the century, Faith.”

  “She’ll pay for this,” she snapped.

  “I’ll see you around,” I said, then strode out of the kitchen, ignoring Faith’s frustrated squeal which echoed along the travertine floor. I tucked my hands into my pockets and strode toward the front door.

  “Bye, Rosaria.”

  “Bye, Mister Gabe,” she called from George’s open office door.

  I wrenched the front door open and stared at the bright blue sky, the soft lilt of snow had stopped again, but there was the crisp smell of winter on the air. It bit at my nostrils and my breath hitched for a second. Before I hit the steps, I stopped to blow a puff of white smoke into the clean air with my warm breath. I felt lighter already.

  What if Faith had lied? I certainly wouldn’t put it past her. She was a spoiled princess who had a way of getting everything she wanted. Even me.

  A paternity test. I should’ve brought it up before. Insisted. Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t be in this damn position in the first place. But the dates had been spot on; the doctor had pinpointed the due date and it corresponded perfectly to when I was with her.

  Damn.

  I probably should’ve run this by Dad since Faith was sure to go running straight to George in an effort to shift the scales in her direction.

  I sucked in a lungful of painfully cold air and took the descent two steps at a time.

  Chapter 29

  Ally

  I stood behind the glass front counter and admired the day’s creations. Vanilla Vixen. My new favorite. It was afternoon and I hadn’t heard from Gabe since yesterday, but the bakery was up again. Nothing could dampen my mood.

  The bakery was empty of customers, so I leaned back and yelled towards the kitchen, “Tess, we need more Red Velvets! Mrs. Atkinson nearly cleaned us out. She brought friends.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” came the reply. Clangs and bangs emanated from the kitchen for a second. “We’re almost out of cream cheese frosting.”

  “I’ll put it on my list,” I answered back.

  “No, I mean we’re out of it in the next two batches,” she replied in her characteristic Tess drone.

  “Damn,” I murmured, then raised my voice again, “I’ll run out and get the stuff to make it in a few minutes. You’ll have to handle the front, though.”

  More clanging and banging, this time because Tess hated the thought of handling the front of the bakery. She was definitely the kind of woman who got on with dough; probably because she was allowed to punch it until it begged for mercy.

  I tapped my chin. That wasn’t a bad idea. Dough, hmmm, we might be able to pull off a couple of croissants, or maybe …

  The bell tinkled on the front door and I snapped to attention, plastered on that ‘welcome to my bakery, please buy as many cupcakes as you can’ smile.

  Faith waddled into the bakery and this time, her annoying grin was nowhere in sight. She sniffed and looked around the room. “What’s that smell?”

  “Carbs,” I replied. “What do you want, Faith? I think you proved your point the other day. You and I don’t have anything more to talk about.”

  She licked her lips at the cupcakes and then turned them down in disgust. “I don’t think I did. If I had, you wouldn’t have talked to Gabe.”

  I wasn’t about to get into a cat fight with a heavily pregnant woman in front of my customers. Not when everything was going so well. Even though I’d never wanted to bitch slap another woman more in my life. I could always tell her my mom was a resident of the Shakopee women’s correctional facility. That might scare her away. I grinned in spite of myself at the thought.

  “Gabe doesn’t belong to you,” I said, running my hands over the top of the counter. I really didn’t want to engage. The bakery was running so smoothly that I just wanted to focus on the positive. And I’d had a lot of that lately.

  “Gabe’s heart has always belonged to me and now it will belong to his son too.” Faith shifted one of the chairs in the bakery aside and sat down. “Always.”

  “Faith, why are you here again? Apart from the obvious name-calling and passive aggressive innuendo, I mean,” I said, glancing at the door. Lunch had passed, yet there was usually a pre-dinner rush for sweet treats. I had to get out and get those baking supplies before it was too late. The Red Velvets were definitely the most popular, even above the Vanilla Vixen. But give that creamy white concoction time. I knew in my heart she’d catch on with the customers too.

  Tess had come up with that name.

  “Hello, I’m over here,” Faith said, clicking her fingers.

  I snapped my focus back to her puffy face. Since she was nearing the end of her pregnancy, she appeared to be retaining water. “What?”

  “You planted lies into Gabe’s head.”

  “Such as?” I already knew the answer. I wanted this from her lips, straight from her foul mouth.

  “He wants a paternity test. He’s never wanted one before. It’s because of you.”

  “It’s because he’s a rational human being. You say the baby is his and he’s so kind-hearted that he takes your word,” I said, then snapped my fingers right back. “Just like that. I merely suggested that he needed to be sure.”

  “You’re a tramp. A fat-assed, poor, redneck strumpet.”

  “Great comeback,” I replied, “you used a lot of big words that you must have learned at Brown. Now, if we’re done here.” I looked at her, then at the door and pursed my lips.

  “No, we’re not done here,” she growled, then gripped the edge of the table and lurched upwards, grimacing at the discomfort, but never taking her eyes off me.

  “Don’t get too worked up, Faith. Remember your baby.” I couldn’t resist the shot so I folded my arms and studied her.

  Faith collected herself, straightened the hip-length white trench coat which barely concealed her bump and the immodest silk blouse she’d paired with it. She hobbled to the counter and placed her fists on top of it, right above the Dark Chocolate Decadence.

  “You stay away from Gabe,” Faith said, leaning forward until her belly touched the glass. Which wasn’t that far forward, but just enough to get her point across. “I won’t tell you again.”

  “Or what?” I asked, unfolding my arms and placing them on my hips instead. I planted my feet.

  “My father is George Callahan. He can make you so sorry you’ll wish you were dead.”

  “I’ll look forward to meeting him then,” I replied, looking her up and down. This wasn’t my normal behavior, but this woman brought out the worst in me. In fact, I’d been a turbulent sphere of rioting emotions ever since the fire. Maybe it was the
fact that Faith flaunted her former closeness with Gabe. Or that she could actually bear children. Or that she’d phoned me continuously and called me a whore.

  “This is the last warning you’re going to receive from me.” She snapped her teeth once.

  I flinched, but held my ground.

  “I’m not going anywhere and I certainly won’t stay away from Gabe.”

  “Suit yourself,” she hissed between those perfectly white teeth.

  I opened my mouth to reply.

  “Are you ever going to get the cream cheese frosting ingredients?” Tess asked from the door to the kitchen. She held a whisk in one hand and patted her top pocket for a pack of cigarettes with the other. “There a problem here?” she asked, gesturing with the whisk.

  “This is Faith. She’s leaving. Problem soon to be removed.”

  “Faith,” Tess said, then nodded her recognition at the name. “Heard a lot about you. Didn’t expect you’d come round here again.”

  “Well, maybe you should —”

  “That means … don’t come round here again,” Tess said, stepping forward and whipping the whisk through the air in front of her. “Don’t come here again unless you want to deal with me.”

  “Tess,” I said, though there was no strength behind the warning.

  “I’m not as nice as Allegra over there.”

  Faith flapped her jaw for a few minutes, looked from Tess to me and back again. “Who the hell are you?”

  Tess lurched forward, but I held up my palm and stopped her in her tracks. “We don’t need a lawsuit on our hands right now. We’ve just gotten out of one, remember?”

  “I’ll be seeing you again,” Faith warned.

  “Wow, something to look forward to,” I quipped, then gave her a wave goodbye.

  Faith hurried out of the bakery, casting glances over her shoulder at Tess every few steps.

  Tess waited until she was gone and the bell above the door had settled before whipping the whisk through the air again. “Am I ever going to get that cream cheese frosting? We can’t afford to lose any sales right now.”