by Lara Swann
My arms wrap around her instinctively, and my heart surges in my chest, tears coming to my eyes already.
Oh god. So much for making it through this without crying.
“I’m glad you’re marrying Daddy.” She says to me, quietly enough I have to strain to hear it, and I hug her tighter, nodding.
“Me too. We’re going to be a family together, Maddie.”
She nods, and after a moment I reluctantly let her go.
She’s totally messed up both our dresses, and it takes some last-minute readjustment before I’m ready to walk forward again, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Even if I am impatient as all hell to see Alistair. Getting married on this island somehow meant that instead of avoiding each other for the traditional night before, we haven’t seen each other all week. And I already feel like I have so much to catch up on.
Eventually, we’re finally ready to go - and Emma flicks on the speaker we’ve got to accompany our walk, playing my entrance music.
I smile, my heart feeling like it’s about to explode in my chest, and then slowly start walking forwards.
The image of Alistair as he comes into view is even better than I ever imagined - in full formal dress, hair mussed and fluttering in the breeze, his jacket flapping - and the sun, sky and sea behind him. He looks like something from out of a period romance novel, and I can feel the familiar stirring of lust as I start walking down in between the arches made of wood and leaves and flowers.
The pure physical response is, for once, almost entirely overwhelmed by the emotional - and the moment he sees me, the beaming smile that lights up his face lights up my heart as well, clearing away any possible shadows and making me feel open and empty and waiting for him to fill me up.
We walk almost agonizingly slowly down the aisle, when part of me just wants to rush to him and jump into his arms. But I hold his gaze the whole time, unable to see anything else.
There are others here - I know that. Tommy standing just behind Alistair, ready with the rings, and Meredith watching from the side. But I can’t make myself look at any of them.
My whole focus is fixated on my husband-to-be.
It feels like I’ve waited my life to walk down this aisle - like everything I’ve done has led me here.
And when I finally step up next to Alistair, I think I finally feel complete.
Our hands link together, and we just about manage to turn away from each other long enough to listen to the minister marrying us.
I barely take it in though, too absorbed in Alistair beside me, the way he keeps smiling at me, and the idea of what we’re doing.
We make our vows - formal versions of things we’ve been saying to each other for the last year - and Tommy passes Alistair the ring that he slips onto my finger. My skin tingles with every slightest touch, and as the weight of the band settles there, it thrills something deep inside me to know that it’s not coming off. That we’re together, now, bonded permanently. I touch it with my thumb - keep rubbing it with almost a sense of disbelief, before I take the other ring from Tommy and do the same for him. Then I finally hear the words I’ve been waiting for.
You may kiss the bride.
Alistair barely waits for him to finish - he pulls me forward in a gesture I’m pretty sure is not usually part of the ceremony, and kisses me with the kind of passion we usually reserve for private. Unrepentant, unstoppable, undeniable.
All mine.
“Mine.” He breathes it into my mouth, and my heart skips a beat as we have the same thought, all at once.
The small group gathered around us starts a calm kind of clapping - until Emma and Mathilda burst into cheers, and the children follow suit. Then everyone is just laughing and smiling and cheering for us, and my heart feels so full it could burst.
It’s not a traditional wedding ceremony. None of our blood families are here.
But all of my real family is.
And it’s ours.
This one is all ours.
* * *
“It was beautiful, Leah.” Alistair murmurs to me, his lips on my neck. “But I’ll be honest…I feel like I’ve been waiting an age to get you right here…as my wife.”
I shudder, looking around at the beautiful spot we’ve gravitated towards, just below the beach hut we’re staying in. It’s part of a cove on the island, private and secluded…and perfect for what we want to do.
The beach hut fits my desire for a simplistic theme - but Alistair had it secretly had kitted out with all the modern luxuries I didn’t even realize I probably needed. Which in turn, I’m secretly very grateful for…I’ve already had several fantasies about the shower alone.
I move in towards him, our lips meeting and the kisses deepening as our hands gradually run over each other.
“I love the sound of that.” I say. “Your wife. My husband.”
He smiles at me, full of the same joy I feel.
“Me too…my perfect woman. First my baby momma…and now my wife. Everything a guy could ever want.”
I sigh against him, happy and content in a way that I once doubted would ever happen.
“I’ve been looking forward to this night for so long.” I murmur, my hand running down the handsome formal attire, but eager to be under it already.
We’re just having this one night together, instead of a traditional honeymoon - neither of us wanted to be away from Maddie for that long. But we decided to use the opportunity to take everyone away on vacation for a couple of weeks. Maddie, Emma, Mathilda and Tommy.
The vacation we’ve been talking about going on for at least a year.
Emma and Mathilda also made it clear that if we wanted to disappear to this little alcove at other points after that first night…they’d be more than happy to cover for us.
Looking around at the pristine beauty of the spot…and the man currently stripping his shirt off within it…I can definitely see that happening.
It takes both of us far longer than we’d like to get out of our complicated wedding clothes - but when we do, we sink towards the warm sand almost immediately, our ring fingers locked and intertwined as we start touching the way we’ve been wanting to all day.
“Leah…” Alistair murmurs, his head lifting from where he’s been kissing and nibbling along my chest.
“Mmm…” I say, my hands running through his hair and drawing him up for another kiss.
“You know…” I open my eyes at that tone in his voice - enough to see the sparkle in his. My stomach flips. That only ever means some outrageous suggestion. “Maddie keeps talking about wanting a baby.”
My eyes go from half-lidded to wide awake, and I blink at him.
“Alistair…”
“Yes?” He asks, trying to act innocent - which is so ridiculous after a comment like that, that I can’t help but laugh.
“We can’t…” I say.
Though I can’t deny I’ve thought about it - every time she mentions it. And when I see the look in his eyes.
“Why not?” He smiles at me, leaning down to kiss and suckle my breast.
I moan, arching up into him, and think how entirely unfair it is to be having this conversation while he’s doing that.
“I…just started studying again. And…and working part time, to help with Emma’s physiotherapy clinic. And you - you’re about to launch Sinclair & Family, finally back…back under your own name. And Maddie’s just started school. We don’t have…time…” I try to object, as distracting as he’s being.
But then he looks down at me, totally serious, kissing me gently while he caresses my cheek.
“Those aren’t good reasons, Leah.” He rumbles, his voice deep. “We can make it work with any of those - you know we can. If you didn’t want one, that would be a good reason, but…do you, Leah? Do you want another baby?”
I really stop and think about it for a minute. I’ve never seriously considered it - I spent so long knowing another kid would completely devastate me, and upset th
e careful just-about-doing-okay balance I’d cultivated with Maddie. Another one was just never a possibility.
And life feels busy now. It feels like it hasn’t really slowed down since I found Alistair again - but in a good way, filled with all the things I really want. Another kid sounds…difficult.
I open my mouth to say that. But that’s not what comes out.
“Yes.” I whisper, and my hand clutches him - whether for support, or something else, I’m not sure. “Yes, I want another baby, Alistair.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but his beaming smile gets even bigger, and he leans down to kiss me - taking every last breath from me as he does.
“Let’s do it, then.” He murmurs, as if it was that simple.
And maybe it is.
When he finally lets my star-studded vision fall back for a moment, I grip him harder - looking at him properly.
“You promise me we’ll work it out? That it will be okay?” I ask. I need to hear it from him.
“I promise, Leah.” He leans forward, and when his breath brushes my ear, I shudder. “I’m going to put a baby in you tonight. Another one. And we’ll make it all work.”
He leans forward, takes my mouth in his again - like he can’t ever get enough. Exactly how I feel.
Then he sets about keeping all those promises.
THE END
This copy of Billionaire Baby Daddy also includes a bonus copy of The Boyfriend Arrangement – keep reading to enjoy it!
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BONUS BOOK:
THE BOYFRIEND ARRANGEMENT
A Fake Marriage Romance
Chapter One
Josh
“We need to talk.”
“Oh?” I give Katy a quick glance before looking back at the performance of Hamlet I’m studying.
She turns off the TV and settles down on the couch next to me.
“Yeah, I think we need to have a real discussion, Josh.” She turns to face me, her knees bumping against mine and her expression serious.
Oh.
One of those talks.
“Okay…” I agree, already knowing where this is going.
How long has it been? Three months? Four?
Yeah, sounds about right.
“I really like you, Josh, really I do. And I’m enjoying what we’re doing here, but…we’ve been going out a while now…” She trails off, waiting a moment to see if I’ll jump in with what she wants to hear.
I feel a little twist of guilt as I don’t, knowing there’s nothing I can say here. She sighs lightly, glancing away, and I’m surprised at my own flicker of disappointment.
I liked Katy. Well enough, anyway.
She doesn’t have a drug problem, hasn’t insisted on blowing up my phone every hour, and she doesn’t expect me to buy her expensive gifts every week. Which is a remarkable improvement on my past relationships.
And the sex has been hot, drama-free fun.
She’s just…a little boring. Stable. Predictable.
And surprisingly, she got tired of my shit before I had a chance to get tired of hers. That’s a rarity in the girls I date.
“I’m just not sure where we’re going, Josh.” She takes my hand in both of hers and looks into my eyes.
I have no idea what she sees there - to me, hers are just a pleasant blue, nothing I can read or interpret. Not that I need to. I’ve had this conversation enough times now.
“I feel like I don’t know you any better than I did three months ago.” She continues, “I mean, I don’t expect you to suddenly start gushing about how you feel, I get that you’re not that kind of guy, but…you seem so distant sometimes.”
This time she really does pause, wanting a response from me.
I don’t have one. At least not one that will help.
“I’m sorry.” I say, shrugging.
She sighs again. “Look, I don’t mind giving it a little time…”
It won’t help.
“But I want to know you feel something for me.” Her voice strengthens, determined now, and she pulls on my hand to grab my attention. I blink and my eyes land back on her again. “Tell me what this is to you, Josh, you and me.”
I sigh, not even trying to hide it as I give her the wrong answer.
“I’m…having fun, Katy. With you, with us. It’s a good time, what we’ve been doing.” I say just enough to give her the reason she needs to end it. “But…that’s all I’m doing here. I’m not in the right place to be thinking about more, so if that’s what you want…”
I make it clear. That’s the least I can do, I guess.
I see the flash of hurt across her expression - maybe, despite the truth in everything she’s just said, she was hoping for something more.
“Seriously?” She exclaims, suddenly angry. “You’re not even going to try?! I come to you with a few little doubts and…and…you just…give up on this?”
She jumps up and looks back at me accusingly, then paces across my living room.
“God, I can’t believe this is happening to me.” She moans, her hands running through her hair. “Me. I really thought…”
She looks back at me, dashing tears from the corners of her eyes.
“I really thought you were different, Josh. Th—that we could’ve had something…that you were the right guy for me.”
“I’m not - I’m sorry. I wish it could be different.” I finally say, offering the expected empty platitude and hoping it will end most of the emotional outburst.
She shakes her head, anger and hurt written all over her expression, and I try to work out what I should do here.
Why the hell isn’t she just leaving now?
I dimly realize that I haven’t rehearsed being dumped enough to play my part properly. It’s usually the other way around - and then, I get days to work out the right combination of words and actions. It still mostly goes to shit, but at least I’m prepared.
You’d think this way round would be easier, but it’s not - it’s not like she’s just sending me a text or announcing we’re done and walking out. God, wouldn’t that be easy? No, it turns out that this way I get no warning or prep time, and I’m expected to play an active part. Talk, respond, argue, reason. Which is hard when you have nothing to disagree about.
And “okay” isn’t an acceptable response.
I feel like I should do something - stand up, go to her, comfort her in some way. But I also know that will just make it worse - it’s the worst kind of condescending to try to sympathize with someone about not returning their feelings. Either that, or it’d give her the wrong idea.
She’s still staring at me. Waiting for me to do just that, probably.
When I don’t, her eyes narrow and she glares at me.
“Ohh, fuck this. You cold-hearted bastard. Fuck you.” She practically spits it at me, turning on her heel and storming out of the room. A moment later I hear the front door slam and I sink back into the couch, throwing my head against the back of it.
Thank fuck for that.
After a couple of minutes, I open one eye and glance around.
Nothing broken or smashed. No out-of-control raging. No suicidal threats.
All in all, probably about as good as could be expected.
I pull myself out from the couch and head to the fridge, pulling out a beer and popping the cap against the counter that separates my small living space from my even smaller kitchen. I take a quick swig and lean back against the counter, staring at the door Katy left through and sighing.
I did actually try this time, whatever she thinks.
I was the perfect eye-candy for her work events, charmed the hell out of her parents, took an active interest in her life.
I talked with her for hours, tried to get lost in everything that could possibly be fascinating about her. The beautiful events manager with the fun, quirky sense of humor. The girl that got looks wherever we went, admiring glances and flashes of jealousy.
I did everything I could to nourish that initial spark and excitement into a fire, a flame, hell…I might’ve settled for a candle at this point.
It died anyway.
I probably knew that a few weeks ago too, if I’m being honest about it. But I was busy with this upcoming audition and Katy was nice and fun so…I relegated my maybe-potential girl to fun-kicks-for-now.
I raise the beer to the closed door. “Good on you, Katy, calling me out on my shit.”
I down a good quarter of it, and my phone buzzes as I set the beer down on the counter.
Maybe I spoke too soon.
My stomach sinks, and I reach for it really hoping that it’s not Katy with a change of heart, or wanting to talk further and work things out or…anything else.
I flick it on, and Cassie flashes up on the screen. I relax instantly, smiling down at the device.
Then I shake my head, my smile turning wry.
Probably says something that seeing her text gave you a bigger burst of excitement than being around Katy ever did…
Cassie Jacobs.
My best friend.
And undoubtedly the reason I haven’t been able to form more than a half-assed connection with any of the women I’ve dated for the last couple of years. Or longer. Two years is just the time I’ve known that she’s the reason.
Not because I’m the kind of bastard that prioritizes Cassie over one of my budding relationships, either. If anything, I do the opposite - go quiet on her and put my time and energy into whoever I’m seeing instead. And because we’re friends, those times we see less of each other make exactly no difference to our friendship. We just pick up where we left off when those relationships inevitably fail.
No, the problem is that none of those girls has ever made me feel the way I do simply being around Cassie. That zing of energy and excitement that’s been missing with everyone else.
